My Gracie Girl

My beautiful girl Gracie.  It has been a bittersweet weekend.  I've been trying for a couple of years or more, to find a forever home for her and Brownie, though I had no hopes that anyone would take Brownie because of Brownie's advanced age.

Gracie showed up at the back fence as a yearling.  Dark gray and dappled with a dark mane and tail, she was a sweetheart and came regularly to see me.  The neighbors that owned her are the worst -  all I will say about them.  They neither fed nor cared for her.  So, I started feeding her over the fence

and fell in love with her.

Brownie showed up a few years later.  Her owner from down the road didn't want her and she had been on her own for years, wandering.  I had to start feeding her too as she was the alpha, and would eat Gracie's food.  So, now I was caring for two horses.

The neighbors were divorcing and asked if I wanted to buy Gracie.  We fenced in five acres, built a stall and tack room and brought Gracie to live here at the farm.  She and Brownie would call to each other and were inconsolable.  Brownie is skittish and I had no way of bringing her here except for cutting the neighbor's fence.  But, I did still feed Brownie.  

Brownie did finally find her way over and we put her in with Gracie.  They've been together several years.  Gracie is now eight and Brownie about thirty.  

With my husband's health problems and my joint replacement and other issues, it has become so difficult for us to haul hay (at $16.00 a small bale) and feed bags (at $12.00 a forty pound bag) for protein pellets and bags of oats.  I won't mention they love graham crackers, apples, peanut butter and carrots.  I've spoiled them rotten.

Three forever homes fell through for Gracie.  I was not going to let just anyone have her as they often end up on a truck bound for Mexico to be slaughtered and sold for meat.  Don't get me started.

Well, I found a forever home this weekend.  Gracie is huge, white with dark skin and they figured she must have some draft horse in her as she is so large.  They said they'd ride her and if she wouldn't, then she could just graze the pasture. That is what I wanted for her.  Nothing expected from her; just to live a peaceful life; no one abusing her or neglecting her.  And, they asked if they could take Brownie too.  There are angels still among us. They are only about a half mile away as the crow flies.  

The farm is quiet now.  No more fowl or horses.  It is as if the farm has a golden transparency over it.  Makes me sad to know the end of farm life is nigh, sort of like the many dilapidated farm buildings and barns I see around here.

I went out late last night to look at the stars, as I do every night when I let the weenies out one last time. I was surrounded in total silence.  

I cupped my hands and as loud as I could, I called Gracie Girl.

The First Time

Could this have really been my first post?  I remember I could barely figure out how to turn my computer on, much less post.  It was a steep learning curve and rife with the strains of trying to do things I knew nothing about.  That was in 2008.

  I remember that I'd read of a mother with four youngsters writing about it in a blog and making $4000. per month doing it.  I wanted to do that too.  One of the first lessons.  I now find those ads popping up in blogs irritating (sorry if your blog has them as I mean no disrespect.)

I also wanted to connect on some level.  Friends asked me what is the purpose of blogging and I really couldn't explain it.  They were all into Facebook and still are.

I still can't do many things on my blog and am amazed at those that can.  I have moved on from the shabby chic and rusty stuff blogs to others that I find interest me; a natural progression. We do change.  For instance, I see that I posted many more cooking and recipe posts early on (can't imagine what this old format was as it has changed so often as in the text alignment and other little mistakes.) I have received much from blogland: I am so thankful I landed here.

Well, here it is in its entirety.  My first post.

In Robert Herrick's poem, he instructs us to "gather ye rose-buds while ye may." Whether simply about the coming winter or one's journey through life, we must take time to gather now and then.  

I spend much of my time alone; occasionally alone is good. But, alone can also become lonely, which is not good. Nevertheless, together and sharing are gifts we give ourselves. So, let's get started, share recipes, stories and tips - celebrate the fact that we've made it - a time to gather at the farm.

The Circle Game

Perhaps you could listen to this song whilst reading this post...   I was riding through the fields today with the weenies on the ATV.  Looked at the brambles (wild blackberries) that have grown up on the backside of our fifty acre wood.  They'll need to be brush-hogged or they will take over the field; create a thicket akin to a hedgerow that can't be mown down.  Driving alongside the woods, I looked where the mayapples will be growing soon.  Next to those, the morel mushrooms grow for about a week around easter, but though I have looked and looked, I have never found one.  I think the deer and wild creatures find them first.

Since we don't ranch or have cattle, pine trees have been growing up across the fields and I like that very much.  A beauty to behold.  Ranchers would never allow them as they would shade out pasture grasses and plants to feed their animals.  

I stopped by the ponds and cast a few slices of bread upon the waters, but no feeding fish.  It was warm so I thought perhaps a few takers would come to the surface.  The turtles I so love are asleep on the shore under the mud holes they have dug.

The birds are singing loudly today and one I couldn't identify louder than most.  I walked in that direction, trying to see it, but it moved farther away and I never did catch a glimpse.  I have found a lost parakeet and love bird before on the farm, so I wanted to make sure it wasn't another lost bird.  Of course, the crows had to caw annoyingly loud about my goings on. How anyone ever sneaks up on anything is a mystery to me.  I think maybe the unknown bird might have been from the woodpecker family.  Just a guess.

While I looked about the place, this song came to mind. I chose this version because it lists the lyrics. Joni Mitchell is a songwriter that comes around only once in a lifetime.  She had an aneurysm some months ago.  I haven't heard how she is doing or her prognosis. Sad. But, the seasons do go round and round and I can do nothing to slow them down.

In The Evening

 My evenings are the same.  I go up to the barn and feed the animals, collect eggs when I can find them, then tend to the other critters.  I have three farm ponds and there, waiting for me, day in and day out, are the fish and turtles.  Somehow, through my footfall or the sound of the ATV, they are always waiting for me.  The swarms of fish nearest the edge of the pond are the babies/small fry and they graduate in size the farther out they go.  The fish wiggle and wriggle, excited for the bread and pellets coming their way. 

Farther back still, the turtles, heads poking out of the water, start coming across the pond.  Most are skittish and wait for me to toss food their way.  But, a few have become braver.  Case in point, the snappers.  I have two Snapping Turtles in this pond.  Their cousins, the Alligator Snapping Turtles, can grow to over 250 lbs.

Let me just tell you, they are huge, ugly beasts and until recently, only feasted on the live baby fish.  They now have decided to eat the leftover food I leave for the other pond turtles.

This lug went straight for the raspberries and returned several times.

Then she spied a smaller Red Eared Slider coming to the feast.

Thai noodles?  Alright.

With berry stained lips, it went for the chicken tender and decided to head back out into the pond with her score,  just as the other snapper showed up.

So go the days at my farm.

Turtle soup anyone?

Here Chick, Chick, Chicks

Look what I got today. It has been awhile. We raised chickens for many years; enjoyed them, their eggs and their antics. When my son went away to college, they sort of went away too. Coyotes, old age and other varmints finally killed off our flock. We never would eat them and even eating their eggs are hard when you know what's in them. Its been lonely on the farm without them. This isn't the time of year one usually starts their flock, but I couldn't wait till spring. So I got 10 pullets (girls) and will get guineas and turkeys in the spring. Turkeys are my favorites as they are so loving and have great personalities.

Taking a little nap - it is too cute!

Cock Of The Walk

I had 3 peahens and 3 peacocks. The breed, though nosy are not aggressive and definitely have a mind of their own - meaning I have no control over them. They go where they please; down the middle of the road, to neighbors etc. The old meany down the road called at 7 a.m. one morning screaming that she was going to shoot them. They were in her yard and she didn't want them on her property. My husband tried to explain that he couldn't control them and there was no way of catching them. She continued to rant and rave until he hung up on her. So now we have 3 peacocks. The neighbors locked them up in their pen to breed with their hens. This is the only one we have seen since summer.

Two winters ago, they roosted up on the top of the barn when the ice storm hit. You get the picture. Their tails froze to the tin roof and they ripped them to shreds to get down. They looked awful. Now, these tails are six feet long and lush. They are funny to watch and call to each other from great distances. Peacock love!

Catbird Seat

Here's Teddy in the catbird seat or bird feeder I should say. He is the sweetest cat. Very vocal. Yesterday, I caught him with a chickadee in his mouth and chased him down. I got him by the scruff of his neck and he let go of the chickadee and it flew up in a nearby tree and fussed and fussed. Whew! If I can catch the cats just after they catch the birds then the birds can sing for another day. But, if I'm not around... Did I mention they bring in field rats through the doggy door? One day last week they brought in three in one day. Teddy, Boo, Midge and MeanMom are the barn cats that have moved up to the house. Teddy fights his brother Boo: Midge is young and plays with both of the boys while her mother MeanMom lurks around outside hissing and spitting and chasing or jumping my little weiner dogs. How mean is she? She's so mean, we are at the stage of clawing and grabbing my hand, pulling it to her, then biting it and licking it. A big improvement. I'm trying to tame her so I can take her to get fixed. I have become one of those people I revile; the ones who don't take care of their animals and/or have them spayed or neutered. Let me explain. My farm/barn has become a cat farm; I never knew they had so many babies. I have spayed and neutered 9 cats so far, but I can't afford to do all of them (and they usually leave after I do that). So, all I can do is continue to feed them. I love them all, even MeanMom. They are so sweet (except MM). My husband wants to shoot them but I won't let him. Teddy, Boo and Midge all got to the house because they were hurt or sick. More vet bills. And no, there are no rescues etc. in this area. By the way, MeanMom looks a little fatter, hmmmm. She thinks the garage is her house and goes into the loft where she has her litters. We've tried the havahart cage and she's too smart for that. Let me know if anyone has any ideas. In 23 years, we never had this problem.

UPDATE: Today after I wrote this the dogs and I went out for a walk in the field. I looked back and here came Teddy, Boo, Midge and MeanMom. Meanmom came up to me and rubbed my leg, a first, then let me rub down her back a couple of times then clawed my hand and bit it. We did this several times while out walking and she got better at letting me rub her. Major event for MeanMom. She doesn't bite hard; the claw she catches my hand with is a little more bothersome, but I think soon she will let me pet and rub her without biting. She's finally starting to trust me; it has only taken a year. Hurrah! I've finally made headway with MeanMom.