I stagger in and drop into the chair at my desk amid the syncopated chorus of crowing roosters and the sounds of a dog trying to imitate monkey chatter. My wife tosses something out the back door, and the pigs beyond it set up petulant screaming for their breakfast. The little boy wanders about the rooms in a manic mumble of morning-happy, self-absorbed chatter. Cats yowl to be let out of their nightly confinement, rabbits and hens scratch and peck, and I am surprised to pick out of this din the absence of large breed guard dogs staking their claim on the space, or of goats complaining for hay.
It has been over half a year since we posted here, but though there have been changes, they are fewer and smaller than we'd hoped. We do have pork in the freezer, and though none of the does are milking right now we expect several kids in the upcoming early spring.The little farmling is learning to read, the older one is learning to read Latin and polynomials. The fodder system is working both better and worse than expected, but we are planning to expand - expense in the hope of saving money and improving the overall feed.
Life goes on.
Friday, January 2, 2015
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Wait, We Didn't Post This Week?
This month.
This quarter.
Well, farming is kind of a busy life. I work days, so the wife is the real farmer. I sit at a desk all day and just try to be useful between the time I get home and the sun goes down. I dig the post holes and do most of the hammering, but she's the one who really runs the place. Thank goodness for the teen daughter. We call her the OLSD: Organic Labor Saving Device. It's GOOD to have a farm hand, even if she is barely a hundred pounds if you don't count the hair.
We homeschool. I handle the math and Latin, Mom handles - as usual - everything else. Some days I take the DD (that's Darling Daughter for those of you who didn't know) to the office and stick her in an empty cube, which is more productive for her math and Latin, but it means she's not around to help Mom by feeding critters, making lunch, or wrangling the little parasite (the boy, that is...he's 4, not exactly a contributor yet).
She's great at keeping track of where she is and what she needs to be doing in her coursework. Maybe not so great at actually doing it without a hot poker prodding her now and then, but in general she very mature and conscientious. So far we have decided to let her live despite the encroaching hormonality of teen-ness.
When not doing math and Latin, she does history, science, lots of reading... but she also does a lot of stuff that is much less traditional, like archery. She looks like Merida from Brave out there firing at a hay bale. She studies Falconry, and hopes to get her license this year. She writes, and is currently in the process of creating the script for a comic book, is taking classes where she's storyboarding it, and drawing animation backgrounds. She's taking a history bonus class that requires her to play Minecraft and built historical reproductions on the servers.
Meanwhile, the little one stands on his head on the couch with an XBOX controller in one hand, playing Godzilla, fighting Mothra and Megalon and MechaGodzilla. He never wants to eat until it's time to put him in bed, and then it's "I'm hungry" and "read me a story." He plays educational games on the computer, and carefully, consistently chooses all the wrong answers first before picking the right one, so that he gets to see all the animations. He *is* learning to sound out small words, though.
All this time, the Mom is sprouting wheat to fodder the goats and pigs and rabbits, tossing the ones that didn't sprout to chickens and ducks. Collecting eggs, which we need to eat faster (Quiche, anyone?) Training the new karakachan as a herd guard, and trying to find kennel housing he can't escape. Checking the horses' hooves to make sure the rain and mud isn't causing problems. Crocheting me hats and a shoulder-slung phone pouch. :)
Oh, yeah, there was supposed to be some blog posting somewhere in there. (Yes, boy, I'll go outside and swordfight with you in a minute, can't you see I'm trying to...oh, ok.)
*sigh*
Hold that thought, will ya? :)
This quarter.
Well, farming is kind of a busy life. I work days, so the wife is the real farmer. I sit at a desk all day and just try to be useful between the time I get home and the sun goes down. I dig the post holes and do most of the hammering, but she's the one who really runs the place. Thank goodness for the teen daughter. We call her the OLSD: Organic Labor Saving Device. It's GOOD to have a farm hand, even if she is barely a hundred pounds if you don't count the hair.
We homeschool. I handle the math and Latin, Mom handles - as usual - everything else. Some days I take the DD (that's Darling Daughter for those of you who didn't know) to the office and stick her in an empty cube, which is more productive for her math and Latin, but it means she's not around to help Mom by feeding critters, making lunch, or wrangling the little parasite (the boy, that is...he's 4, not exactly a contributor yet).
She's great at keeping track of where she is and what she needs to be doing in her coursework. Maybe not so great at actually doing it without a hot poker prodding her now and then, but in general she very mature and conscientious. So far we have decided to let her live despite the encroaching hormonality of teen-ness.
When not doing math and Latin, she does history, science, lots of reading... but she also does a lot of stuff that is much less traditional, like archery. She looks like Merida from Brave out there firing at a hay bale. She studies Falconry, and hopes to get her license this year. She writes, and is currently in the process of creating the script for a comic book, is taking classes where she's storyboarding it, and drawing animation backgrounds. She's taking a history bonus class that requires her to play Minecraft and built historical reproductions on the servers.
Meanwhile, the little one stands on his head on the couch with an XBOX controller in one hand, playing Godzilla, fighting Mothra and Megalon and MechaGodzilla. He never wants to eat until it's time to put him in bed, and then it's "I'm hungry" and "read me a story." He plays educational games on the computer, and carefully, consistently chooses all the wrong answers first before picking the right one, so that he gets to see all the animations. He *is* learning to sound out small words, though.
All this time, the Mom is sprouting wheat to fodder the goats and pigs and rabbits, tossing the ones that didn't sprout to chickens and ducks. Collecting eggs, which we need to eat faster (Quiche, anyone?) Training the new karakachan as a herd guard, and trying to find kennel housing he can't escape. Checking the horses' hooves to make sure the rain and mud isn't causing problems. Crocheting me hats and a shoulder-slung phone pouch. :)
Oh, yeah, there was supposed to be some blog posting somewhere in there. (Yes, boy, I'll go outside and swordfight with you in a minute, can't you see I'm trying to...oh, ok.)
*sigh*
Hold that thought, will ya? :)
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Adventures of Khavien Farmling
So on this fine Sunday morning the four year old is taking a bath. He's predictably splashing and having a good time, though I am somewhat surprised at the minimalism of the actual mess. As I sit to watch and chat, I put a toy boat into the tub with him; it's just a single piece of molded pink plastic, but he likes them.
He grabs it and starts using it to stir the water, them leaves the poor thing listing and adrift. I pour the water out and set it back aright. "If you put water in it it doesn't float upright. See? Now it's a boat."
He grins and starts splashing water directly into the boat. My son the hurricane. I just smile and shake my head, and let him play as he likes, but after a minute he tells me the people are swimming in their clothes.
"In their clothes? That's not good."
"Can they not swim in their clothes?"
"Well, they can, but it's hard. It's not good."
"They're swimming in their clothes."
"Well, okay then."
He splashes a few more times.
"Oh, no! The monster is coming to get them!"
He points at the sadly listing and waterlogged pink toy.
"Uh oh," I say, and look around. A rubber ducky is lying forgotten by the base of the toilet. I grab it and lob it in to land between him and the boat.
"There he is! It's a monster!"
His little face breaks into a gleeful grin as he grabs the ducky and proceeds to maul the boat.
"Papa," he says, "where's the baby monster?"
"Just a minute," I say, and look around some more. The rubber ducky was part of a set with three smaller ones, but none of those are available. I find a pelican that one can fill and squeeze to squirt from a hole in his beak, and toss that in.
"There it is!"
He picks it up and looks it over, then turns his little eyes up at me with a sigh and a mildly disdainful scowl.
"Papa," he says, "that's not a baby monster. That's a toy."
He grabs it and starts using it to stir the water, them leaves the poor thing listing and adrift. I pour the water out and set it back aright. "If you put water in it it doesn't float upright. See? Now it's a boat."
He grins and starts splashing water directly into the boat. My son the hurricane. I just smile and shake my head, and let him play as he likes, but after a minute he tells me the people are swimming in their clothes.
"In their clothes? That's not good."
"Can they not swim in their clothes?"
"Well, they can, but it's hard. It's not good."
"They're swimming in their clothes."
"Well, okay then."
He splashes a few more times.
"Oh, no! The monster is coming to get them!"
He points at the sadly listing and waterlogged pink toy.
"Uh oh," I say, and look around. A rubber ducky is lying forgotten by the base of the toilet. I grab it and lob it in to land between him and the boat.
"There he is! It's a monster!"
His little face breaks into a gleeful grin as he grabs the ducky and proceeds to maul the boat.
"Papa," he says, "where's the baby monster?"
"Just a minute," I say, and look around some more. The rubber ducky was part of a set with three smaller ones, but none of those are available. I find a pelican that one can fill and squeeze to squirt from a hole in his beak, and toss that in.
"There it is!"
He picks it up and looks it over, then turns his little eyes up at me with a sigh and a mildly disdainful scowl.
"Papa," he says, "that's not a baby monster. That's a toy."
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Silver Fox Rabbit Colors.
Meat rabbits. They've been our most successful endeavor. Since we're diversity loving geeks, we chose the Silver Fox rabbit breed. The American Livestock Breed Conservancy says it best: "Ensuring the future of agriculture through the genetic conservation and promotion of endangered breeds of livestock and poultry."
Silver Fox rabbits are a beautiful breed, bred for both meat and fur. We have blue and black Silver Foxes and we're working on the other colors, especially chocolate.
My kingdom for a litter of chocolate Silver Foxes. But since I don't have a kingdom...
For those new to the Silver Fox breed, there are two accepted colors, blue and black. Why do I say accepted? Because when Walter P. Garland said "ta-da!" the finished product was either blue or black, like the rabbits below.
.
Okay, maybe he never said "ta-da," but you take my meaning. Today, the only acceptable color for showing is black. The blue was dropped by The American Rabbit Breeder's Association (ARBA) for lack of entries. The blue is still considered acceptable among Silver Fox rabbit breeders because it is one of the original colors. Those who keep true to the original color standard often call their stock "heritage" Silver Fox, not to be confused with the Silver Fox as a heritage breed. More power to them. You never know when original bloodlines will become important to the survival of a breed.
There's more to the palate than blue and black.
Although some breeders mark Silver Fox colors other than blue or black as taboo or at least very bad form, a few are experimenting with the new chocolate variety. In fact, Meara Collins currently holds certificates of development, or CODs, on both the blue and chocolate Silver Fox colors. That means it may soon be possible to find both blue and chocolate Silver Fox rabbits showing right alongside the blacks. Diversity AND equality!
Another color not under COD is lilac. Lilacs are a double recessive of chocolate with a dilute gene. Yeah, I know, genetics can make your brain twist. Or lock.
A lilac Silver Fox has a pinkish glow to the eyes and the fur is a soft silver with a browney tinge. Maybe that's not the best description, but it's my own. Unfortunately, they're so uncommon that if you look up lilac Silver Fox you won't come up with much.
The last and most despised color is white. Most breeders don't mention it as a possibility. Go ahead and look up the colors. Count how many mention white. Very few, right? White does show up and that shouldn't be surprising since the famed Mr. Garland never disclosed which breeds he used to create this amazing rabbit breed with the stand up fur. A few Silver Fox breeders do keep white rabbits. White rabbits dress out more easily than darker colored rabbits and commercial meat producers generally accept only white rabbits.
I said despised, didn't I? White Silver Fox are the redheaded step children among Silver Fox breeders. I can't tell which is more hated, white Silver Foxes or those born with the dreaded white star. I'll say the white star, since for almost every breeder I've met, white star's are an automatic cull. I think some believe it is a sign of the vienna gene, which causes blue-eyed whites. It is definitely a mismark under the breed standard and it does tend to carry through the generations. For this reason, I name starred Silver Fox kits "lunch."
This isn't to say you won't find a few Silver Fox breeders proud to flaunt their white bunnies. It's just that if you choose to do so, be prepared for some breeders to frown at you. Don't make yourself all blue in the face waiting for a COD either. The most common reason I see for the antipathy toward white Silver Fox is the difficulty in rating the silvering. How can you note the evenness of silvering if you can only see it in certain lighting from particular angles?
Whatever colors a breeder promotes or just has show up in their lines from time to time, let me go on record as saying disclosure often means the difference between a rabbit breeder with ethics and one without.
All of this to say, we finally have a litter from our one chocolate doe. We bred her to our black, chocolate carrier (there I go with genetics again) and the reward is six kits.
I see four blacks, a blue and maybe, just maybe, a lilac. Maybe one of those blacks is a really deep chocolate. A girl's got to have her fantasies.
Silver Fox rabbits are a beautiful breed, bred for both meat and fur. We have blue and black Silver Foxes and we're working on the other colors, especially chocolate.
My kingdom for a litter of chocolate Silver Foxes. But since I don't have a kingdom...
For those new to the Silver Fox breed, there are two accepted colors, blue and black. Why do I say accepted? Because when Walter P. Garland said "ta-da!" the finished product was either blue or black, like the rabbits below.
 |
| Black Silver Fox |
 |
| Blue Silver Fox kit |
Okay, maybe he never said "ta-da," but you take my meaning. Today, the only acceptable color for showing is black. The blue was dropped by The American Rabbit Breeder's Association (ARBA) for lack of entries. The blue is still considered acceptable among Silver Fox rabbit breeders because it is one of the original colors. Those who keep true to the original color standard often call their stock "heritage" Silver Fox, not to be confused with the Silver Fox as a heritage breed. More power to them. You never know when original bloodlines will become important to the survival of a breed.
There's more to the palate than blue and black.
Although some breeders mark Silver Fox colors other than blue or black as taboo or at least very bad form, a few are experimenting with the new chocolate variety. In fact, Meara Collins currently holds certificates of development, or CODs, on both the blue and chocolate Silver Fox colors. That means it may soon be possible to find both blue and chocolate Silver Fox rabbits showing right alongside the blacks. Diversity AND equality!
 |
| Chocolate Silver Fox lap angel still developing her silvering |
Another color not under COD is lilac. Lilacs are a double recessive of chocolate with a dilute gene. Yeah, I know, genetics can make your brain twist. Or lock.
A lilac Silver Fox has a pinkish glow to the eyes and the fur is a soft silver with a browney tinge. Maybe that's not the best description, but it's my own. Unfortunately, they're so uncommon that if you look up lilac Silver Fox you won't come up with much.
The last and most despised color is white. Most breeders don't mention it as a possibility. Go ahead and look up the colors. Count how many mention white. Very few, right? White does show up and that shouldn't be surprising since the famed Mr. Garland never disclosed which breeds he used to create this amazing rabbit breed with the stand up fur. A few Silver Fox breeders do keep white rabbits. White rabbits dress out more easily than darker colored rabbits and commercial meat producers generally accept only white rabbits.
I said despised, didn't I? White Silver Fox are the redheaded step children among Silver Fox breeders. I can't tell which is more hated, white Silver Foxes or those born with the dreaded white star. I'll say the white star, since for almost every breeder I've met, white star's are an automatic cull. I think some believe it is a sign of the vienna gene, which causes blue-eyed whites. It is definitely a mismark under the breed standard and it does tend to carry through the generations. For this reason, I name starred Silver Fox kits "lunch."
This isn't to say you won't find a few Silver Fox breeders proud to flaunt their white bunnies. It's just that if you choose to do so, be prepared for some breeders to frown at you. Don't make yourself all blue in the face waiting for a COD either. The most common reason I see for the antipathy toward white Silver Fox is the difficulty in rating the silvering. How can you note the evenness of silvering if you can only see it in certain lighting from particular angles?
Whatever colors a breeder promotes or just has show up in their lines from time to time, let me go on record as saying disclosure often means the difference between a rabbit breeder with ethics and one without.
All of this to say, we finally have a litter from our one chocolate doe. We bred her to our black, chocolate carrier (there I go with genetics again) and the reward is six kits.
I see four blacks, a blue and maybe, just maybe, a lilac. Maybe one of those blacks is a really deep chocolate. A girl's got to have her fantasies.
Friday, May 3, 2013
Turkeys. Who Told Me I Could Raise Turkeys?
No one told me, I just decided. Kind of the same way I decided I could raise rabbits and pigs, but those are stories in themselves. We've dragged ourselves back into a good place and we're trying again. We're serious about this homesteading thing and are better informed, stronger emotionally and financially, and ready to get down to business.
With so much chicken related success...okay, maybe success is too strong a word. A few bobbles aside, we're keeping them alive and healthy and they seem pretty happy, going about their chicken lives pecking and pooping and jumping each other for sport. Having eaten many yummy eggs and finally managing to keep some meat birds set me thinking I could probably raise turkeys too.
Blackhead, Newcastle Disease, Influenza, And The List Goes On
Turkeys are pretty delicate creatures, especially when they're young. Research tells me chickens and turkeys don't mix for that reason. Chickens carry diseases like blackhead, which they throw off but which kills turkeys. Not a fun proposition, buying a bunch of turkey poults only to have them turn black in the head and then keel over.
Okay, so their heads don't really turn black. The real symptoms involve gross, watery poops, ruffled feathers and stunted growth. The name comes from a bluish look to the head caused by cyanosis. Apparently, that doesn't happen all the time, so I won't bother looking for any blue heads. By that time it'd be too late anyway.
My best bet is to keep the poults in a clean environment and away from chickens and soil until they've built up some immunity. Parasite management is key in poultry raising. When I think about it, it's pretty essential in any situation where we keep animals in confined spaces. Imagine no toilets and having to slog through your own poop until someone came along and scooped it away. If poop scooping wasn't someone's idea of a fine pasttime, you'd probably get pretty sick. Lots of bugs enjoy poop and quite a few of them make you sick.
How'd Turkeys Ever Survive and Evolve?
They didn't. Not the way we think of them, those forty plus pound creatures that grow to such ludicrous sizes they can't breed on their own or even continue breathing much past butcher weight. Those white turkeys born on most commercial turkey farms were bred for fast and furious meat production and need help breeding and producing eggs. If you want to know what they call free range production of these creatures, take a look.
That's why I chose a turkey breed from the listing on the American Livestock Breed Conservancy. I'd like at least a good chance at keeping a flock of natural breeders that won't keel over from the weight of their own meat. Well, that and my need to get away from commercial production meat. I chose bourbon reds.
Teaching Turkeys To Eat and Drink
Normal turkey poults learn from their mama. When she isn't around, as in this case, they have to learn the most basic of skills on their own or die. Usually they die, so I used a couple of tricks to make sure that didn't happen. Water is essential, that's obvious, and they should have it pretty quick after coming home. So how do you teach a poult to drink?
Turkeys, like most birds, love shinies. Can't you just see it, turkeys wandering the woods, beaks thrusting back and forth on their tiny turkey heads, searching for yumm...oh, look! Shiny! Peck it!
I wonder how many wild turkeys that behavior kills. In captivity, I can use turkey curiosity to my advantage. I fill my waterer with clean water, add a little apple cider vinegar to help with those nasty parasites - hey, it can't hurt - and drop a few shinies in the bottom. Worked like a charm. Turkey poults came from all over the brooder just to peck at those shinies and each one came up with a beakful of water. Lesson learned. I'm keeping the marbles in there awhile because they just can't stop diving for the shinies, which means they drink more water, which helps clean out turkey systems while it hydrates.
I applied the same principle to the 28% game bird starter. Sprinkle some over a mirror and on a piece of tin foil and turkeys can't resist pecking. Now they've learned to eat.
Fascinating Turkey Poults
Maybe I'm an oddball, but I love watching turkey poults. They've only been here a couple of days and I'm already having a tough time not staring at them. Creepy as that sounds, it's a learning tool. Turkey poults fall out on their sides to sleep. I only had to run over in shock once to figure out they weren't really dead.
Watching them peck and strut also keeps me aware of their needs. If turkey poults are too hot, they'll flock away from the heat lamp. Cold turkeys pile, which could be a death sentence for those on the bottom.
As much as I've learned about poultry, I can't claim expertise in turkeys. I'm brand new to this, but experience is the best teacher, so wish me luck.
With so much chicken related success...okay, maybe success is too strong a word. A few bobbles aside, we're keeping them alive and healthy and they seem pretty happy, going about their chicken lives pecking and pooping and jumping each other for sport. Having eaten many yummy eggs and finally managing to keep some meat birds set me thinking I could probably raise turkeys too.
Blackhead, Newcastle Disease, Influenza, And The List Goes On
Turkeys are pretty delicate creatures, especially when they're young. Research tells me chickens and turkeys don't mix for that reason. Chickens carry diseases like blackhead, which they throw off but which kills turkeys. Not a fun proposition, buying a bunch of turkey poults only to have them turn black in the head and then keel over.
Okay, so their heads don't really turn black. The real symptoms involve gross, watery poops, ruffled feathers and stunted growth. The name comes from a bluish look to the head caused by cyanosis. Apparently, that doesn't happen all the time, so I won't bother looking for any blue heads. By that time it'd be too late anyway.
My best bet is to keep the poults in a clean environment and away from chickens and soil until they've built up some immunity. Parasite management is key in poultry raising. When I think about it, it's pretty essential in any situation where we keep animals in confined spaces. Imagine no toilets and having to slog through your own poop until someone came along and scooped it away. If poop scooping wasn't someone's idea of a fine pasttime, you'd probably get pretty sick. Lots of bugs enjoy poop and quite a few of them make you sick.
How'd Turkeys Ever Survive and Evolve?
They didn't. Not the way we think of them, those forty plus pound creatures that grow to such ludicrous sizes they can't breed on their own or even continue breathing much past butcher weight. Those white turkeys born on most commercial turkey farms were bred for fast and furious meat production and need help breeding and producing eggs. If you want to know what they call free range production of these creatures, take a look.
That's why I chose a turkey breed from the listing on the American Livestock Breed Conservancy. I'd like at least a good chance at keeping a flock of natural breeders that won't keel over from the weight of their own meat. Well, that and my need to get away from commercial production meat. I chose bourbon reds.
Teaching Turkeys To Eat and Drink
Normal turkey poults learn from their mama. When she isn't around, as in this case, they have to learn the most basic of skills on their own or die. Usually they die, so I used a couple of tricks to make sure that didn't happen. Water is essential, that's obvious, and they should have it pretty quick after coming home. So how do you teach a poult to drink?
Turkeys, like most birds, love shinies. Can't you just see it, turkeys wandering the woods, beaks thrusting back and forth on their tiny turkey heads, searching for yumm...oh, look! Shiny! Peck it!
I wonder how many wild turkeys that behavior kills. In captivity, I can use turkey curiosity to my advantage. I fill my waterer with clean water, add a little apple cider vinegar to help with those nasty parasites - hey, it can't hurt - and drop a few shinies in the bottom. Worked like a charm. Turkey poults came from all over the brooder just to peck at those shinies and each one came up with a beakful of water. Lesson learned. I'm keeping the marbles in there awhile because they just can't stop diving for the shinies, which means they drink more water, which helps clean out turkey systems while it hydrates.
I applied the same principle to the 28% game bird starter. Sprinkle some over a mirror and on a piece of tin foil and turkeys can't resist pecking. Now they've learned to eat.
As you can see from the picture, the feed area already needs a cleaning. This picture was taken first thing in the morning, so you can see how much work turkeys can be when they're young. If I left the area like this for long, I'd have sick turkey poults.
Fascinating Turkey Poults
Maybe I'm an oddball, but I love watching turkey poults. They've only been here a couple of days and I'm already having a tough time not staring at them. Creepy as that sounds, it's a learning tool. Turkey poults fall out on their sides to sleep. I only had to run over in shock once to figure out they weren't really dead.
Watching them peck and strut also keeps me aware of their needs. If turkey poults are too hot, they'll flock away from the heat lamp. Cold turkeys pile, which could be a death sentence for those on the bottom.
As much as I've learned about poultry, I can't claim expertise in turkeys. I'm brand new to this, but experience is the best teacher, so wish me luck.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Pigs and goats and chickens, oh my!
In case you missed the update, the little potbellied piggy at left, our Moro's full brother, is coming to live with us sometime next month. His owners were told he would never grow bigger than a mid sized dog, and that owning a potbellied pig is like owning a dog. It wasn't mentioned that he'd need vaccines, tusk and hoof trimming, or the fact that a two year old potbellied pig will test its boundaries. Once they discovered this may well turn into a one hundred pound animal with a mind of his own, they decided to rehome him. They plan to have kids and are uncomfortable with the idea of a large animal around small children. If they feel that way they are correct, especially since they are having a great deal of trouble with the little one now. They're having him vaccinated and neutered before bringing him, as well as bringing a playpen, potbellied piggy moisturizers and shampoo, more potbellied pig food and harnesses. They love this little guy...how could I resist?
As for Moro, she's doing great. She uses her litter box faithfully, potties outside as soon as I bring her out there, and knows sit, beg, come, up, and spin. She's also a bit of a firebrand. Last night, she insisted on burrowing under Paul's armpit. When he wouldn't let her, she tried to bite him to put him in his place. He shoved her the way an older pig would, so she barked at him. I thought I'd fall over.
Oscar will provide Moro with potbellied piggy company and an outlet for her dominant personality. The current owners will be happier to know he is on a farm, with his sister, and they can come visit since they live in Atlanta.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Loose horses
Rural living can be interesting, in it's way. I was enjoying a hot bath and a book when my husband popped in to tell me the neighbor found loose horses on his property and he'd be going to see if they were ours. Either way, he'd help round them up and put any strays in our round pen.
Needless to say, up I jumped to dry, dress and check for myself. All three horses were still in the paddock, Paul nowhere in sight.
I waited, and put hay in the back of the truck (just in case), and before long, I looked out again to see the sheriff's car and a pickup in the drive. I followed the bobbing lights to a brown and an appaloosa being put in the round pen, our own horses running around like nuts in the paddock.
There they sit, munching hay, safe from traffic and hunger. Tomorrow should be interesting.
Needless to say, up I jumped to dry, dress and check for myself. All three horses were still in the paddock, Paul nowhere in sight.
I waited, and put hay in the back of the truck (just in case), and before long, I looked out again to see the sheriff's car and a pickup in the drive. I followed the bobbing lights to a brown and an appaloosa being put in the round pen, our own horses running around like nuts in the paddock.
There they sit, munching hay, safe from traffic and hunger. Tomorrow should be interesting.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)