Winter in the Country

I made it back to the farm just in time for Christmas.  Then the dearly beloved's father passed away.  Then the cool weather prompted the powers that be to close the schools for a couple of days.  That prompted time with the stepson which prompted me to go on a drinking binge which prompted me to call the school officials and demand the schools be reopened which prompted a visit from the sheriffs department to check on my mental stability...It's not easy to update the blog when my hands are cuffed behind my back (tee hee).
We were stuck in the house for about a week with the "coldest snap since 1969."  Then we had a few days of temperatures 20' above normal.  That only brought us to the mid 40's. But it allowed me to run outside and make sure the chickens and the horses were still alive.  I gathered up a few dozen frozen eggs, cleaned out the coop, the water trough and threw a few extra tulip bulbs into the ground to benefit from the last couple weeks of freeze before they bloom.  I relished the few days of decent weather then braced myself for the next onslaught of "winter splendor".
Just when I thought I couldn't take another moment, my mother called from Sunny Southern California and had the audacity to complain about enduring their 2nd day of non-stop rain.  Oh boo-frickin-hoo.  As I had the burners on the stove on high and the oven cranking at 450' with the door wide open toasting my hands and feet and both fireplaces burning.  I don't think my mother even knows how to open an umbrella.  She saw a picture of snow flurries once and thought the sky was falling.  To ease my pain and discomfort, I called my relatives in Pennsylvania.  It brings me peace and contentment to know that others are suffering more than I with the cold.  My 82 year old aunt was out shoveling 18 inches of snow off of her sidewalk.  I thanked God for my blessings, grabbed my coat and gloves and went outside to feed the animals.  I am now anticipating the news from the prophet of Punxutawney or better known as Ground Hog Day.  Surely he won't see his shadow and let us know that Spring is imminent.

Christmas in the....City!

I've been out in California since October 15.  I'm really missing the farm.  It's been interesting running around So Cal, though.  The weather is good.  I'm grateful for a few more weeks of warm weather as opposed to the low temperatures that have set in at the farm.  I'm always looking for reasons to be grateful.  I'm working on an attitude of gratitude.  It is a hard life out here.  There are too many people and everything is crowded. But the weather is nice.  I am preparing to come back to Tennessee just in time to set up the tree and brace for Christmas.  I have a hard time celebrating Christmas but I'm happy to go home, check in on my animals.  I miss Gus tremendously.  The goats should be having babies shortly.  I have to be home for that.

Round and Round

I call my trips to Los Angeles my gratitude trips because I come home nicer.  I come home grateful and aware of the blessings I have here on the farm.  I worry about my animals because the dearly beloved does not nurture the animals the way I do.  I am learning to accept the things I can't control, to control the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.  I know that the animals will be fed.  They won't be pampered and doted upon but they will be fed.  They are farm animals, they are foragers, they were fine.  Gus, the prince of Shih tzus was alive and greeted me at the airport.  He went right from the groomer to the airport.  He jumped up and down and ran around, excited to see me and ran right outside and rolled in the horse manure.  So much for pamering the animals. 
I missed autumn.  I'm sad for that but I am grateful  for the warm weather in LA and the good food.  I am grateful for the opportunitiy to work.  I'm blessed to have opportunities.   

Country girl gone to Los Angeles

I got called away from the farm for work in Los Angeles.  This is a challenge as I have to give up control of all of my precious animals until further notice.  My animals are my loving pets and not considered "farm stock" and the fear of losing any of them is troublesome.  I have to trust that my dearly beloved is going to take good care of them.  I am fully aware that they need not be cared for with anywhere near the attention I give them.  They are foragers.  They do not require the constant nurturing I give them.  My baby, Gus, is another matter.  He is very accustomed to, and in need of, the attention I give to him.  I bet they all manage fine without me for a few weeks.  For me this is a lesson in giving up control.  They won't be petted like I pet them, they won't be doted on like I dote on them but they will be good.  I will come home with a new appreciation of country life like only spending time in the city can cause.

Animal Control

I received a call from Clay, the animal control guy.  He said someone had been complaining about Mister and Sister running in the pasture across the road from the house.  We are surrounded by about 400 acres of cow pastures.  While it is true that Mister and Sister run in the pastures, so do all the other dogs in the area.  For some reason my dogs have been singled out and threatened with time in the dog pound.  I see Tornado the black lab walking up the road every day.  And Daisy the 15 year old mut doesn't even get out of the road when you honk.  The beagle at the end of the road chases the car every time I drive by.  Mister and Sister are in exercising the cows.  We need to have healthy, fit cows in Tennessee.  By the time Mister and Sister are done running them through the fields, they've been sufficiently exercised.  Buddy Welch, the cow's owner  knows the dogs hang out there and he's fine with it as long as they don't nip at the cows' heals.      We installed the invisible fence a few years ago to keep the dogs at home.  The stepson was weedeating under the fences and he cut the wire which rendered the invisible fence useless.  Repairing the invisible fence is on Fred's to do list of things to fix around the farm but it's WAY down at the bottom of that list.  I'm all about keeping animals responsibly immunized, fed and contained, but we are surrounded by several hundred acres.  It's a little weird to keep them chained.  Being the reasonable, responsible, respecful woman that I am, (anyone who knows me, please wipe the grins off your faces) I agreed to keep them chained up until Fred fixes the invisible fence.  As I am chaining them up, I am fully aware that these dogs could possibly be chained to that fence for two years.  Fred does intend to get to it.  He intends to get everything done on his to do list.  Trouble is that the list grows much quicker than he completes each project.  So I am going to take a picture of my poor pitiful farm dogs sulking in the corner of the yard, completely demoralized, defeated, and depressed.  The chickens come right up to them and peck the food right out of their bowls.  The goats wander by and eat the leaves from the trees by the fence that they are chained to.  The horses wander by and eat the grass all around their dog house.  They just lay there sulking.    

Here Comes the Vet (bills)

We were sitting around the breakfast table with the family this morning enjoying farm fresh eggs, bacon, sausage and fluffy biscuits when I looked outside and noticed that Abigail had drool pouring out of her mouth.  She had liquid gushing out of her nose as well.  I pointed it out to Fred.  We watched her for a bit as we cleaned up the breakfast dishes.  She didn't appear to be getting any better.  We started calling every horse afficianado we knew.  It's 10:30 on a Sunday morning.  Everyone is at church.  Finally I was told that there was a rodeo bronco rider who happened to be speaking at the Cowboy Church.  I jumped in the truck and flew down to the Cowboy Church just as church was letting out.  I found the cowboy, explained my situation and he agreed to follow me home.  At first he thought Abigail had gotten into some clover.  I happened to be missing the head to my scarecrow and I thought she may have eaten the head which is made out of styrofoam.  He admitted that he had never seen liquid pouring from a horse's nose and suggested we get ahold of a vet.  Delightful news to hear on a Sunday morning. 
This is a picture of Abigail and Dr. Smith standing in the rain on a Sunday afternoon.  He tranquilized her and ran a tube down  her throat while Fred held onto her.  We did not find the head to my scarecrow but there did appear to be a feed blockage.  Alls well that ends well.  The patient is doing well.  Dr. Smith will be taking his wife out to a very expensive dinner tonight.  Fred and I will be eating leftovers.  HA