Trust

Our summer has been really rough, dry, dry and glaring heat. We lost a lot of pasture, trees and bushes to the drought. It finally rained a little and things have greened somewhat, but I have had to take the goats on our walks, farther and farther from the house.

This requires a great deal of trust on their part. Because the farther we go from their home the more vulnerable they are to danger and the more they have to rely on me to keep them safe. Some dangers ARE really bad, like predators, and some, (as with humans too) are things only goats can envision in their imagination. Now I have seen them deal calmly with howling wind and crashing thunder & lightning then practically have a heart attack over a blowing leaf. Horses will do this too. I'm sure it has something to do with being a prey animal and instinctive reflexes that kick the flee response into overdrive.

Which makes it all the more remarkable that they trust me to lead them out of their pen and off into the wild twice a day. I appreciate it and am flattered. This was no easy trust to win. When they came to me as babies, they had not had a lot of human interaction. They were whisked away from mama, stabbed with hypodermic needles and stashed in the back of my car and then put into a pasture where nothing was recognizable. They huddled together and glared at me...and ran from me...and screamed bloody murder when I tried to pick them up- no joke if you haven't heard a kid goat cry out in fright or pain, you haven't heard anything. It is heart wrenching - They ran as if I was a goat eating tiger.

Those smart little goats made me work for their trust. It didn't come easy...and even now 3 1/2 years later, Bessie is a hold out..who frequently gives me the evil eye and snorts at me. It has taken it's toll on me. I have had to give up a lot for them..sleep, time, money. I have been knocked down, tripped, had to dig through 4 ft of snow, made emergency vet trips, learned to give shots, spend hours and hours giving comfort and aid...only to be snorted at and glared at and rejected.

And then one day, Fritz, my big black wether, walked up to me and rubbed his head on my leg and nibbled on my shirt sleeve and I melted. And we started taking our walks, me and 7 very interesting goats.

Every day I learn something from the animals on our farm..patience, perserverence,courage, but their trust is a gift...AND an obligation because now I have to live up to that trust. Everything in the animal world mirrors ours. We have predators after us too and problems and dangerous situations and people in our lives. We should all demand that the people we bring into our lives earn our trust and renew it daily. Just I have to do every morning and evening when I go to the goat pen and say, "Come on goats, let's go walkies!"

Prairie Madness

This morning Ed & I got up at 5:30. Not so unusual on a farm. But not something I LIKE to do.

Anyway, today was summer shearing for the goats and it needs to be done while it's still cool outside.

Did I mention that we have been dealing with temperatures in the high 90's (two days of over 102) and no rain for about 2 months now? It's not the end of the world and it's not as bad as the 4 feet of snow last winter, but it makes everything a challenge. Sure, there will be no second cutting of hay..uh...actually there is no grass. And sure, the ponds have dried up and the trees are starting to drop leaves early...but it could always be worse. Think Sahara.




Living on a farm makes you a philosopher, like it or not. You have no choice but to accept whatever is thrown at you and deal with it. Nobody but you cares if you are having a crappy day or a crappy life. No sympathy from the goats, that's for sure. Chickens could care less whether your sweating your butt off. So you are left to draw on your own resources. Doesn't mean you can't rant and rave...just that there is no one to listen or care.

I often think of the early settlers that went out to homestead in The Dakotas and Kansas, Iowa, Nebraska. Tough people. The women frequently went nuts from the ordeal. They called it Prairie Madness. I can believe it. I have driven across Kansas and it was an ordeal in a comfortable car.

Anyway, we got up and out early to shear the goats. They were up too, but just. Yawning and stretching and looking at me as if to say "whaaaa"? (they don't have a big vocabulary). But then we all got to work...us doing our job, catching goats, checking eyes & ears, trimming little cloven hooves, feeling for lumps, cuts, ticks, shearing, scissor trimming,dusting for parasites, giving worm meds, hugs and pets...and them doing their job, jumping, snorting, pretending to hate the attention and snapping up the pretzel treats being handed out. And then I saw the sun coming up behind the trees and it was beautiful and we all stopped to look. Two humans and seven goats all took a moment to breathe. And it was very very nice.

Now it is 98 degrees...the goats are all resting very quietly in the shade...I am resting quietly in the air conditioned house, all of us fending off Prairie Madness.

Why Did You Move Here? A Rant From WV

OK...so here's the question heard in every rural community in America, "If you think we're such hillbillies and living here is such a pain, why did you move here"?

A nasty rumor reached me yesterday...now the first thing I must say is that rumors abound in the country. While they are seldom entirely correct, there is always a kernal of truth lurking.

So this nasty rumor was that a neighbor, a "city feller" recently moved here, has joined ranks with some land grabbing developers and vowed to work to get rid of all the hillbillies here once and for all. I would have dismissed this rumor as it goes around periodically, but I know this neighbor well and wouldn't put it past 'im.

I wasn't born here. I was transplanted as a tween by my parents over 50 years ago and things were rough and ready here then. Our nextdoor neighbor was cooking moonshine, there was no indoor plumbing in our house, a tweaky coal furnace, woodstove in the kitchen and questionable electricity here and there. No phone, no TV.

What we had was amazing neighbors and some of the kindest most generous, funloving,smartest people I have ever known in my life. They are my neighbors, my family, my friends and I love them dearly. They didn't care that I was a city kid. They took pity on me and laughed at me and loved me. They played jokes on me, molded me, taught me about the land and animals and farming and canning and gardening and how to laugh. They enriched my life beyond words.

Now some people take to this lifestyle and some don't. My brother, never quite made the connection. Maybe he's just not the sort of person that can let go of himself. Or maybe he just takes after my dad...more of a spectator and commentator than participant. But my mom and I dove in with whole hearts and planted our gardens, canned beans, tomatoes, made jam...the whole nine yards.

So here's the paradox...all these hardworking people, the "hillbillies" and their ancestors, made this area and land what it is. They created the whole atmosphere that the city transplants and intellectual snobs seek to make themselves whole. So the elite move here and then begin to whine and complain about the very things and people that made the place attractive to them in the first place. My neighbor wants to get rid of the hillbillies and get more people like himself here so that he can grow to dislike them and go off in search of more hillbillies to look down on and displace.

My theory is that all the overeducated, self righteous, wine snob types move here because they need someone to be better than so they won't dislike themselves so much.
Or maybe whining just comes with the territory and lifestyle of these folks. I feel so sorry for them. They are missing the core of life.

My education in anthropology tells me that this pattern is eternal. I envision the cavemen, yog and og sneering at each other's lifestyle. It is, after all, human nature, to disagree. Every two year old, in every society, thinks they are the cat's meow and few get over it.

I firmly believe in positive thinking. Although I do enjoy a good rant now and then.I often wonder why people choose to make themselves unhappy, when it is so easy not to? Why choose to live where you are not happy? Anger, is the wind that blows out the candle of the mind. Envy eats the soul. No one lives forever. Why waste the precious minutes of life fighting with people or trying to change people or get even? Why not die knowing you did the best you could and tried like hell not to harm anyone along the way? My mom died with a smile on her face. I know why.

Winter Over?

Yep...well, it's been an awful winter. Very tough on people and animals alike. As you can see, Fritz..our biggest Wether, at almost 120 lbs, is dwarfed by the snow banks.

We lost trees, fences and business because of two tough months of snow...finally, just today, washing away under torrential rain. YIPES.

The B&B business has taken a huge hit from the economy, as has most of the travel and tourism industry. It has affected us as well, but fortunately we planned for slow times and are still running the Inn and using downtime to our advantage. Besides, the animals don't care about the economy and demand just as much from us as they always have. So here is the animal update:

The goats got through winter in pretty good shape. Berta caught pneumonia in December, but a course of antibiotics, nutridrench, probiotics and B12...plus a LOT of TLC got her safely through. We battled a minor outbreak of foot scald, and some leg mange (Berta, AGAIN), but all in all the gang seems to be in good shape. Next comes the joy of shearing...ooooh nooooo. They all have long long shaggy coats ready to be shorn.

The chickens and Guinea hens did well also. We lost one Guinea to an owl. Despite the fact that we had to confine them all to their coops for 4 weeks, snowed in, they came through like troopers and are rewarding us with dozens and dozens of eggs.

The cows had a rougher time as they are pastured on an upslope and caught the worst of the snowy weather. We brought them into the barn several times, but they are not used to being confined and protested by trying to destroy the barn..ha ha. Several of the cows have gone off to market and the herd will be considerably smaller this year. Again...the economy has taken it's toll on them as well.



So THIS is what I have been doing with my time...working on Kat'z Kritterz ragdolls!
They have helped pass the time and are actually selling! So I have added them to my inventory of studio "output" and will be taking them along with me to shows this year. And yes, I have been painting, but it has been difficult with all the distractions and snow shovelling to get in any quality studio time. I do have a couple of paintings going to the Millwood VA show and have some great ideas for more work this summer.

Any Uncle Wiggly fans out there? Well, If Mr. Fungus (and you know who you are) doesn't spread and cause the little spring plants to hide under the leaves, I'll be back soon with another update!

Thoughts on Rag Dolls

My mother was born in San Francisco in 1912. She died last year, here at home, peacefully in her sleep. I miss her companionship and her always good advice.

My mother and I had a great relationship...not always the case with mother and daughter. I have a brother. To her he was the "cat's meow"..but I was the whiskers!!She said that I came out of an anniversary champagne bottle! Always partial to boys (she ADORED my husband and took his side on every decision) she found a kindred female spirit in me and we had some great times and a lot of laughs together. She was smart and funny and a superb straight man.

When I was about 8 years old, she made a rag doll for me.

Every Thursday afternoon a few of the neighbor gals got together to visit and chat and sew while waiting for all the kids to get home from school. Dubbed the "Busy Fingers and Fancy Doers", many a sad tale, family crisis, health problem and loving advice was aired over darned socks, embroidery projects and mending. It was here that my rag doll was born and lovingly sewn. Named Drucilla, by my mother, she appeared in my Christmas stocking. It was the best Christmas present I have ever received. Drucilla lived a long and happy life!

Recently, my mother whispered in my ear...make a rag doll. OK..so it wasn't quite that clear...actually I was in Michaels and saw a book on how to make rag dolls...The image of Drucilla came flooding back and I found myself irresistably drawn. With granddaughters and Christmas looming, I thought I would try to see if I could work some rag doll magic. What a treat it was to make those dolls..it came easily and I thought of what fun my mother must have had making my doll for me. It really is the little things. Before I knew it, my husband was involved, making little beds for the dolls. He even donated a couple of old sweaters so that I could make cheerful winter dresses for them.

Maybe I should channel the spirit of my paternal grandfather, a tailor, because I don't think my dolls are quite as expertly made as Drucilla was..but the love is in there passed on to me from all my female ancesters. And now I cannot stop making them. It's like a flood gate has been opened and I am finding real joy in creating these little rag beauties. Thanks ma...once again you have given me the best Christmas present ever!

Nobody Reads This Anyway....

OK..since nobody really reads these blogs anyway, it gives me a chance to let off some steam or go all poetic without fear of offending anyone.
This is a beautiful time of year and the trees and woods are putting on a spectacular show. It's 75 degrees and sunny and balmy and it is positively hypnotic.

Because of the slow economy, our usual rush of leaf peeping visitors (those who have "leafer madness") is just not here. Now, I like peace and quiet and enjoy having the down time to do repairs and play with the goats...but I cannot help but think that things are far from getting better.

One good thing about living here is that we have amazing friends and neighbors who are there for us and we for them. Farm living is the best! You have to give up a certain degree of personal privacy...but sometimes having everyone know your business provides a level of security found nowhere else. You get used to it. And while it may seem to our B&B guests that we are out in the middle of nowhere, nothing could be farther from the truth. Although I will admit that farm life isn't for everyone.

A couple of weeks ago our neighbor came over and helped Ed and I "dispatch" 6 nice fat hens. None of us relished the task, but it's just one of those jobs that needs to be done now and then. I don't like killing animals, but there is a certain confidence that comes with knowing that if needed, I have the tools and know how to take care of myself. I am not a gun nut or a hunter..but every farm has to have at least one good rifle and people who know how to use it.

Lately we have been awakened at 4:00 am by a very lively coyote, singing loudly. It is the eeriest sound. It is not a good sound. It means a very skilled predator is out and about and casing the joint. We have predator lights at intervals along the goat fencing and lock up the Guinea Hens and Chickens at night...but Mr. C. has struck at several other places, taking a cat, chickens, whatever he can nab. We have tried to see him with the spotlight but he is a ghost and yowls at us from behind trees about 100 ft from the house. He has several people gunning for him and a trapper on his trail. Poor coyote. I feel for him. But he must go. If he can he will kill our goats and chickens. He will kill our baby calves if momma cow is not alert. And he will bring in other coyotes with his calls. He is big..bigger than his Western cousin by far and very dangerous.

That's the way it is out in the country..the very beautiful and serene and the very dangerous and wild. It is an amazing gift to be surrounded by nature.

October!

Yes indeed, we have been busy. Fall is so beautiful up here that we always get a lot of visitors and guests at the B&B. This year has been no exception. Wellll, that is until this week when it has been coooold and raining.
The goats are very unhappy, as they hate rain and are like a bunch of 5 year olds trapped indoors.
We have had Ed's relatives visiting from Wisconsin. They, of course, have been wowed by all the wonderful sights and people here in West Virginia. Not what they were expecting at all.
We have also had some of the most interesting guests at the B&B. What a fun crowd the last couple of weeks. Lots of laughs and smiles. And, a lot of them from New Jersey.

As for the farm work, we are getting our Fall chores done and trying to prepare for winter. Trying to anticipate how much hay and straw we will need for the animals' comfort and how many piles of warm clothes for us. I am NOT a fan of cold weather, frozen water buckets, ice and snow. The goats are growing thick thick coats of cashmere and mohair and we have winterized the chicken houses. All the farm equipment has been made winter ready..the plow blade on the tractor. So now we just wait to see what Mother Nature has in store for us.