The farmyard ice rink ... or is that slush pool?

9 January 2014

Have you ever seen a goat ice skating?

No, really.

It's been an amusing, messy, cold, wet week here at the farm. Between the sub-zero temperatures, ice and snow storms, and baby turkeys being born, I'm not sure where the muck ends and our house begins any more. AND of course this was the week when I started my new venture into full time writing.

What week would be complete without a blog entry about the farm critters?

Biggest excitement of the week - six baby turkeys hatched. They moved from the incubator to a big box with a heat lamp attached at the end of my bed after 24 hours. Remember those days of having a new born infant in your room? Yeah, it's kind of like that.They fall asleep at odd times, wake to the slightest noise, do not sleep through the night in any way, scream like a banshee if left alone for two seconds or if they get too cold or too hot or if all but one of them falls asleep or if one of them pecks another one or ... you get the idea.

But dang they are cute little unicorns.

Opening the shell after 24 hours of pipping

Standing up for the first time

A few days old in the brooder box

All the while it was snowing and blowing and cold enough to freeze soap bubbles. Everyone except the goats spent two days locked inside the barn which made for some messy messy housing. When I opened the doors finally yesterday to the snow covered yard, the birds all stood and looked at me like I had lost my mind. One chicken ventured outside and almost immediately returned to the house and chewed me out for about twenty minutes before I decided to be nice and put down a blanket of straw for them to walk on.

And no, no one even thanked me for that. The gratitude I live with ... Lol.

Oh, the soap bubbles you ask ... yep, we froze soap bubbles. I only got a picture of one of them so here it is.

It crystalized into this feathery pattern. It was fun to watch it grow at is froze.

And then today came along and melted most of the snow. Ugh. As much as I was tired of sliding and slipping and keeping the animals cooped up and carrying buckets of hot water around, the melting is often worse. Then everything is covered in a layer of muck and mud - floors, feed buckets, waterers, hoses, gates, handles, shoes, boots, birds, goats, ducks, sidewalks, steps, etc ... EVERYTHING.

The goats loved it though. They got to play in the slush and quickly figured out how to slide across the patio on the partially frozen partially wet surface. Vincent ran with glee, hit the patio and slide like an awkward overweight figure skater right into the garden netting, then turned around and repeated it all over again in the opposite direction.

It's funny. For the all the awkwardness the goats have, they are remarkably sure-footed and nimble. They prance around on the tiniest of ledges and branches and squeeze themselves through the smallest of openings. And we just watch in awe. If we were to try to move through some of the places that they move through, we would fall unceremoniously on our heads or break something in the process. But they just scamper like little mice. And they aren't little at all.

And then there are the meat birds ... that should have been processed three weeks ago ... Anyone need an 8 pound chicken??

End of the year or What matters in the end ...

2 January 2014

I don't normally do this. And by this, I mean, blog or write or even think about "end of the year" reports, updates, etc ...

I just don't believe in them.

When I was younger I did. Everything was about beginnings and endings, where I was going, where I had been, who was in my life, who was no longer in my life, what I accomplished, what I didn't accomplish, where I had been, where I hadn't been ...

But somewhere along the way, I realized that life is more about the journey and less about the destination.

When does a year end and another begin? By a date on the calendar? By the birth of a child? By the death of a loved one? By a wild night of drinking followed with a vow to never drink again? By the germination of a seed? By the harvest?

What defines where we start and where we end?

In June of this past year I lost a very good friend. Her death was unexpected and sudden and devastating to all those who knew her. I have grieved more than I even realized I could.

Then in December our nephew died in a car accident.

I've experienced death before. I've lost loved ones and friends. I live on a farm with animals where life and death is expected and dealt with on a routine basis.

But none of that matters in the end.

All my life I've heard people say that in the end, the people that matter the most, are the people that walk through the hard times together, who support each other through thick and thin, ...

"you know who your friends are by who was there when you needed them the most ...  "

But if I learned anything in the past calendar year, if I learned anything from the death of my loved ones, I learned this.

What matters in the end is NOT our birth or death, where we go or where we've been, what we accomplish or where we fail. It's NOT the number of good times we had or the bad times that consume us. It's NOT who stands by us when we need someone the most.

What matters in the end is the journey we take and how we take it.

What matters in the end is who we journeyed with.

What matters in the end is who we stood beside when they needed us the most.

People are human. They can't always be there for us. They can't always deal with our bad times like we need them to. They can't always be the people we want them to be. We have to accept them as they are and as they come to us ... for the day, the time, the need, the life ...

All we can do is be there for them ... as other people have been there for us.

Because, in the end, that's all we have to give.