Some days, life is better than other days. This week has been kind of hellish. My brother-in-law, one of the people that manages the Yahoo folks who create all those ads, discovered he has Leukemia. Mike's sister is still in shell shock. But there's been a good trend with the chemo he has had, knocking down the 'count' from 320 or so to less than 80, where this 'count' should be.
If there ever was a cure, now's the time. This man has two children, Alice and Johnny, very nice, well-behaved and creative kids who just love their father - a man who can't help but smile and make those around him want to, as well.
You have to think about these things, as I do, when planting new plants for the fall, knowing that Winter will cut out some of the harvest, as early as mid-November. Such is life. But we still plant, still hope and wonder what it would be to have our own lives cut short or pulled from our current path onto another one that's not so bright, not so brilliant. You have to think about these things when you go through life normally, day-to-day, without the affect of a disease of your own blood, without worrying whether you will be retiring one day, or living your life as an invalid, whatever life you have left on this old planet. Maybe 'think' isn't the right word. You are blessed if you are not thinking about these things. As I am.
So today I am thankful, wholly aware of all that is good around me -- the animals, the farm, my guy who sits across from me (as I write) this learning about new woodworking techniques with his new equipment.
I wonder about those out there who have discovered their loves have shortened lives or lives that will be very different from the way it has ALWAYS been. I wonder if they realize how much strength they will need just to continue to continue.
And so I sleep, a heavy heart, but one that need not be - for it is not my life, right? For it is another's, one that is distant from mine that suffers, right? No, it remains with me, this weird feeling that I am so lucky to not have this trauma in my life, to not know the dread of having to be in hospitals, of blood testing, of some set of doctors watching over my progress or egress from this life.
I am so very lucky. I hope you are, too.
Monday, September 08, 2008
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Billy be gone
Ah, the sound of the country in the morning - the birds and sleepy nature waking gently with the morning sun, the slow rising out of bed to meet the quiet, new day...
NOT!!!!!!!!!
Noisy geese wondering when we're going to get our butts out of bed to go feed them... and all night, the sound of a horny Billy Goat in rut, keeping us awake... the guineas in alarm over what? A leaf that's blowing in the wind, probably. Hummingbirds attacking each other outside our windows over the juice we give them... it's just... just... well, noisy.
But yesterday, thanks to some accommodating neighbors (well, far away neighbors) and some good people, we now have one less noise-maker in the barnyard.
Our billy goat has moved on to a new home, one that has fifty acres, not 15, one with more goats he can... rut with than just our mere 30 or so females...It's not sad, but it does mark the last of the remaining goats that we started with four years ago (yesterday marks our fourth anniversary here).
He was the leader - when he called the pack in, they came. When we opened the tack room in the barn, he was always the first there to partake in whatever we had to feed him. He was the greediest goat, but when the very young came and challenged him by simply eating out of the same bowl, he was gentle with them, just kind of moving them away with his head and not goring them, like any other mean goat would do. He really is a very gentle goat. When he would rear up because of something I was doing, I would however, let him know who's boss and chase after him, yelling and screaming to not ever do that again. He only did it a few times, but I think we got things sorted out. :)
But really, the rut makes goats nasty-smelling because they not only pee on themselves, they smell the females' butts and generally ask for them to pee so the billy can put his nose in it, raise his head afterwards and breathe in the fine... smell of the piss. It's just gross. But it's a goat's way. Luckily, us humans don't behave that way. I can't imagine what the world would be like if we all ran around naked and, when some guy was rutting and we were in heat, we'd have to squat, pee and then watch as the guy raised his head and opened his mouth to savor the.... oh, it's just too gross to think about.
The peachick is getting bigger and has survived.
The geese are very large, but really still cute. They are spreading their wings more every day and run around the yard in packs, almost in pre-flight.
We are in negotiations about a fall garden. Mike will have to get his tractor out and I have to specify where and when and all that. We've never really had a fall garden, but the spring garden didn't work out all that well, so we're going to try a Texas-style fall garden. "Texas-style" because we really do have two growing seasons here.. but who wants to get out in the middle of the heat and plant stuff? But we'll do it. Probably put in onions and garlic, tomatoes, peppers, cilantro and maybe some beans and a few other things. I never know until we get out there and start doin' stuff.
We still have to put the buck pen in. We (more Mike than me) set the posts, but we haven't attached the fence to it or cut out the door in the barn that we need to go along with it.
We need to buy a new pump for the pond and Mike's made a sand filter out of a fifteen gallon
container, sand, large rocks and pea gravel (see photo). That will be attached to the pump so we can get the sludge out of the pond - the geese have left this legacy for us. They are no longer allowed in the pond - they also leave a trail on top of the water of oil - and we have goldfish who need air (especially when there's no pump) and so away the geese go. They have other containers to float about in and we're looking for a used, plastic kid's swimming pool that's a little bigger than what we have. This is the time to find them pretty cheaply.
Off to do some of those things we have to do. Like drink more coffee.
NOT!!!!!!!!!
Noisy geese wondering when we're going to get our butts out of bed to go feed them... and all night, the sound of a horny Billy Goat in rut, keeping us awake... the guineas in alarm over what? A leaf that's blowing in the wind, probably. Hummingbirds attacking each other outside our windows over the juice we give them... it's just... just... well, noisy.
But yesterday, thanks to some accommodating neighbors (well, far away neighbors) and some good people, we now have one less noise-maker in the barnyard.
Our billy goat has moved on to a new home, one that has fifty acres, not 15, one with more goats he can... rut with than just our mere 30 or so females...It's not sad, but it does mark the last of the remaining goats that we started with four years ago (yesterday marks our fourth anniversary here).
He was the leader - when he called the pack in, they came. When we opened the tack room in the barn, he was always the first there to partake in whatever we had to feed him. He was the greediest goat, but when the very young came and challenged him by simply eating out of the same bowl, he was gentle with them, just kind of moving them away with his head and not goring them, like any other mean goat would do. He really is a very gentle goat. When he would rear up because of something I was doing, I would however, let him know who's boss and chase after him, yelling and screaming to not ever do that again. He only did it a few times, but I think we got things sorted out. :)
But really, the rut makes goats nasty-smelling because they not only pee on themselves, they smell the females' butts and generally ask for them to pee so the billy can put his nose in it, raise his head afterwards and breathe in the fine... smell of the piss. It's just gross. But it's a goat's way. Luckily, us humans don't behave that way. I can't imagine what the world would be like if we all ran around naked and, when some guy was rutting and we were in heat, we'd have to squat, pee and then watch as the guy raised his head and opened his mouth to savor the.... oh, it's just too gross to think about.
The peachick is getting bigger and has survived.
The geese are very large, but really still cute. They are spreading their wings more every day and run around the yard in packs, almost in pre-flight.
We are in negotiations about a fall garden. Mike will have to get his tractor out and I have to specify where and when and all that. We've never really had a fall garden, but the spring garden didn't work out all that well, so we're going to try a Texas-style fall garden. "Texas-style" because we really do have two growing seasons here.. but who wants to get out in the middle of the heat and plant stuff? But we'll do it. Probably put in onions and garlic, tomatoes, peppers, cilantro and maybe some beans and a few other things. I never know until we get out there and start doin' stuff.
We still have to put the buck pen in. We (more Mike than me) set the posts, but we haven't attached the fence to it or cut out the door in the barn that we need to go along with it.
We need to buy a new pump for the pond and Mike's made a sand filter out of a fifteen gallon
container, sand, large rocks and pea gravel (see photo). That will be attached to the pump so we can get the sludge out of the pond - the geese have left this legacy for us. They are no longer allowed in the pond - they also leave a trail on top of the water of oil - and we have goldfish who need air (especially when there's no pump) and so away the geese go. They have other containers to float about in and we're looking for a used, plastic kid's swimming pool that's a little bigger than what we have. This is the time to find them pretty cheaply.Off to do some of those things we have to do. Like drink more coffee.
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