Electric Garden

So, we have this problem with the hay area in the winter.  As you can see-it gets really nasty and ruins potential grazing pasture.  It also makes it harder on their feet, making it more prone to cause problems like disease, etc.

 Oh fine Pepper-say "Moo!"

 So, Arlis set up this really cool fence.  And this cold morning

I decided to blog this lovely idea of his.

Notice anything strange?  Go on, look again...  We put up a temporary electric fence.  Oddly, regular fencing is not tax exempt, but this is, something about property value increase with the permanent fencing.  It's solar powered.

And butted to the neighbor's fence.

The back gate is left open for free access to it.  The mommas were using it as a playpen for the calves this morning, and the sheep soon joined in.

Paprika lays around chewing the cud.

Lightning digs for more.

And Thunder doesn't seem to mind the electrical current.  In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say he enjoys it.

The rest of this year's hay will go into this area, and it will be used as a feed lot.  The fertilization of next year's garden has already begun.  Here's hoping for another idea to be great in the long run!

 

Bragging rights

We have run out of land.  We have a registered Dexter breeder that we buy excess bulls from in order to keep customers for beef.  They recently delivered three.  I have changed their names to John.  I was SO PROUD of this e-mail that I had to share.  I have changed NOTHING but her husband's name.

John and I were BLOWN AWAY this morning when we made hamburgers for breakfast.  John had 2 even.  That beef was by far the very best we have ever ever tasted.  I am in shock how great it was.  Unbelievable flavor and texture.   You obviously have the magic touch.  We have also been discussing what a great job you're doing there with your whole farm n We have had a lot of customers throw money and words at their farming goals but you are actually putting in the hard yards and making it work.  You are doing a great job Arliss.  Keep up the good work!!

We believe God has blessed us, and hope that is all it is, because if it is our land and we move, we will lose our great flavor, etc.  If it is just that one calf...well you get the idea.  We believe we are doing what God wants us to do.  If this isn't proof, I don't know what is!  Thank you my God for allowing us to serve You the way we believe You want us to.  Please speak to us so that we may always do Your Will. 

Out there in front of everybody

I've been sick and uninspired, so I apologize for not writing in so long.  However, a friend of mine told me three stories that cracked me UP!  So, I thought I would share.  I have changed all names, etc.

So, a friend of mine, Betty, works at a local apparel store.  She was in charge of the fitting room one night when this man struts out in a G-string.  He's pulling the sides up in order to enunciate his...item of interest.  Strutting up to Betty he says, "Do you have anything that will fit this?"
Betty, "I'm sorry, we don't carry peewee."
He immediately turned and went back into the room slamming the door behind him.  Concerned for her job, she called management and told them that there may be a complaint against her.  She then told management why.
Manager, "Betty!"
Betty, "I'm sorry, but he had his thing all up in my face, and I'm not having that."

So then, another day, a woman comes to the fitting room with a cart of clothes.  She appears....to have been smoking....not cigarettes....a lot.  So, Miss Betty informs her that you are only allowed four items of clothing in the room at once.  This lady picks one up and says, "One..."  She then proceeds to think hard and long.
Betty, "Two."
Betty helps this...lady...to count out four items and lead her to a room to use.  A while passes and the customer walks out of the room...in a thong...just a thong...
Betty, "Excuse me ma'am, but you forgot your pants."
Customer, "I want more clothes."
Betty, "You need to want to put on some pants."
Customer, "One..."
At this point Betty grabs several, not bothering to count, and throws them into the fitting room.  The lady follows suit and Betty calls management to report the situation.  The lady returned later dressed appropriately...well, appropriately for her anyway.

Now, for the last, and best story.  A couple came in late one night, and hung around the halter tops near the door.  She was not dressed appropriately to begin with, and he was swaying, so there were a few clues there.  She grabs a top or two and holds them up to herself.  Her friend reaches up and starts to slip one of her straps off of her shoulder.  KaWHAMO!  Out they come right there in front of everybody.  A family next to them throw their hands over their children's eyes and run off in shock and terror.  Betty jerks up so unexpectedly that she whacks her head on a clothes rack.  She runs to the manager's office slamming the door open and screams, "WE'VE GOT BOOBS!"
The manager, startled and confused, "What?"
"SHE'S GOT BOOBS?"
Manager, "Um...."
"OUT THERE! NAKED! IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY!  BOOBS!"
Manager, "Are you sure?"
"LOOK AT MY HEAD!"

Enjoy your next clothes shopping spree :).  And please, behave yourself ;p!

Stress free animals

I had no intentions of writing this, but then I read an article on stress and livestock.  I was going through some old pictures of when we first got started, and we could NOT believe the difference in our animals from when we first got them to now.  We give all our cows names.  The guineas don't have names, and the chicks don't have names, but probably will someday.  Beef cattle are given generic names that are reused for emotional reasons.  All other animals are named out of respect, telling them apart, and it is required for registration.  I had a customer ask us why we named our animals.  He found it as odd to name them as we did not to.  The article also mentioned that animals named and talked to and treated as more than lawn ornaments produce better.  I believe it.

Here is Fargo now.

 For those not in the know, he's a GOOD looking bull!  He would win prizes for sure, but I refuse to put a ring in, and regulations require one on bulls.  I understand why and don't dispute that, but I can't do it to Fargo.  That's Booger to the front/left, and Betsy is the black one behind him.

Here is Fargo when we first got him.

 The big one is Betsy, and the little one is Booger.  We figured he must have been younger than we thought.  We checked his papers, he was over a year old when we got him.  He looks like a tiny little thing, like a calf.  Arlis refused to believe is was him.  Then I showed him more.

Here's Betsy when we first got her.

 Skin and bone.  Here she is just a year or less later.

 Not the best picture, but you can see that our cows are NOT skin and bone now.

When we looked through, we wondered what on earth do we do differently?  We don't grain feed or supplement or anything.  But Arlis works with them every day, and I used to.  They are respected and loved, that's all.

I've also noticed the chickens were fatter, laid more, and healthier looking when I was at home.  I spent the time with the birds the way Arlis does with the cows.  There must be something to it.  Less stress also makes better meat because of less adrenaline.  One we raised from birth was FAR better in taste and texture than one we bought as a calf.  Just another reason to buy from the right places. 

In memory

   I've been wanting to do this for a while.  We've lost a lot of lives here at the Burrow Farm.  That's normal.  We've learned to accept death more, and live life more.  Our son is probably a lot healthier emotionally about the cycle of life as well.  Many deaths were expected.  Slaughtering is a part of life, a part I truly believe needs to be revisited by most.  When you take the life of an animal, an innocent, beautiful animal, you learn what it's like to kill, what it's like to take a life.  And when you literally butcher an animal after killing it, it makes you ask "When does life actually end?".  You refuse to waste a single piece of meat.  You choose to give that sacrificed life the fullest meaning possible.  Holding a gun is taken more seriously when you've used one.  The true potential of knives and violence are realized and respected.  But enough of that.  

Below I choose to post the most memorable of those lives lost that weren't planned.  

In their honor:

George-found one morning in the floor dead.  We believe old age and therefore a heart attack.  He was the most awesome rooster ever.

Baby-a bottle heifer that wouldn't get pregnant.  Eighteen months old and with 4 bulls that really liked her, she still wasn't pregnant.  We planned on her being a milk cow, and possibly nurse maid.  Slaughtered and sold for food.

 
Red-Refused to eat.  Died.  Arlis really wanted a Hereford.  Buried in what is now pretty much our calf graveyard.

 
Bluefoot-attacked the back of my leg one too many times.  Cute little pet rooster, beautiful.  Eaten.

 Delta-the most awesome hen ever. Ravaged by a raccoon we killed in an earlier post.  Her chicks are doing well.

Goldie-Eggbound killed her.  (no picture)
Red-Found dead one morning with no explanation.

  Merlin-This is especially sad for me.  I got food poisoned and almost died.  She has her own special story.  We found her dead outside my bedroom window.  It's where I hadn't seen her in 3 weeks and she was sleeping outside my window.  Most awesome duck ever!

RIP my friends, RIP.

Ace

I already had a blog saved and ready for today.  But life took a different turn.  After getting to bed at 1AM the night before (I was waiting for the midnight release of BOIII so I could get a T-shirt for Arlis) I drove the next day to a town an hour away to get Marcus the dog he's been wanting.  A five year old lab mix that's already neutered.  He didn't smell bad, and wasn't covered in fleas and ticks.  We wanted a lab because the neighbor's labs are perfectly fine with our chickens.  We were told he LOVED to be hugged and snuggled and the previous owner was thrilled he was going to a farm with a little boy.  She was in a fix and didn't want to give him up.  So I'm writing this blog today to let her know how it's going.

Ace was friendly enough, but he didn't want to get in the van.  We thought he wanted to stay home, but I now believe it was for other reasons.  While driving down a country road, thank God it was country road, I had to make an emergency stop to let the dog out to poop.  Arlis was holding him in his lap when I looked over and saw it coming.  "Poop!  Poop!"  I grabbed his tail and held it down, applying pressure to said area.  He got as much pleasure out of it as I did.  He then dropped a good deal outside, and I cleaned up the small amount inside.  He still didn't want in the van.  About 2 miles from home, "Poop!  Poop!"  We let him out where Arlis figured he was fed grass because only cows poop that much.  There wasn't a mess this time, thankfully.

We got home and walked him about, introducing him to the cows and other animals.  Boy-seen below-informed Ace how he felt with claws on his face.  I scolded Boy, and they just pretty much avoid each other now.  He pooped again.

 He seemed alright with the chickens, and I was real tempted to just let him loose.  Glad I didn't.  I got him up from his "nap" today before I went into work and leashed him out with the birds.  He was fine until they moved.  Then...he was REAL interested.  Sigh.  So I guess he'll be like Mya.  He's allowed free reign outside in the mornings and evenings or if the birds are ever up, but if he needs out while they're out, he'll have to be chained.  Sorry, I know that's not what you wanted, but he doesn't seem to mind much. 

 Other than that, he gets along real well with everybody.  The cats are too scared to go near him, but they'll get used to him, and Mya likes him.  That's saying alot because she's usually real jealous of other dogs.  So, dear Ms previous owner, thank you so much for Marcus's new pet.  Marcus used him as a pillow last night, and Ace really liked it.

And I wonder why I have insomnia

When I worked at home, insomnia wasn't even an issue.  And the blue moon that it did happen, it didn't matter because I can do my work whenever pretty much.  But now, insomnia is an every night occurrence.  But at least this time, I have a reason.

One of our chicks disappeared.  No feathers, no body, nothing, just gone.  (The white one under Delta.)

It happened before they were all put up at night we believe.  For it to happen during the day, it had to be a fox or a hawk.  We can't shoot hawks, and foxes are very hard to catch.  It did surprise me because my birds were always real good about hawks.  They always hid under the cars, porches, etc.

Well, not long later, we found Delta.  I went to put everybody up, and Delta was in a nesting box mutilated and eaten.  I was real upset.  But as you can see above, the chicks are big enough now to be OK.  Shame though.  She was the only broody hen we ever had, and she was a GOOD mother.  One of the orange chicks was also missing.  We assumed eaten like the white one.

Not that it bothered our guard kitties any.

 

We cleaned up the mess and noticed Niles and Daphne, the ducks, were hurt, but not bad at all.  Just missing some feathers.  We put them all up in the coop, cleaned up the mess, expressed our emotions, and went in.  We also noticed poo in one of the nesting boxes.  This narrowed it down to either a fox or a raccoon.  Due to the daytime visits, we believed it to be a fox, and dreaded having to keep our poor birds locked up until further notice.

Later that night, we heard a noise outside.  The coop is right outside our living room window.  Now, our coop is a metal building that closes up pretty good, with a concrete floor.  Granted, rats can get in, but they can get in anywhere.  We thought everyone was safe from the big boys and rarely paid attention to the nightly coop noises because chickens can get frisky at night sometimes.  But this time, we were on guard, so we went out.  It's a good thing we did.

We grabbed guns and lights and threw on coats.  Arlis shown a light in the coop.  Hens were in the floor-that was a bad sign.  On the top of the run door was a raccoon, perched up trying to escape or hide like a cornered cat.  Now, raccoons don't come out in the day.  If they do, something's wrong.    Since this was the first nightly visit, that means this coon was probably rabid, and much more dangerous than normal.

"There it is!  Over the door!  Coon!  Coon!  Shoot!  Shoot!"

Arlis shot with rat shot and then turned and ran.  It's pitch dark out and a bunch of birds are terrified.  They're hitting Arlis in the back of his legs.  He thinks it's that coon.  He screaming words to make a sailor blush (I wrote some down to look up later), and since he had the light, and there was a potentially rabid and wounded coon on my trail, I followed.  Of course since my loving husband practically ran me over getting out, there wasn't much to think about.  I passed him up, tripped on chicken wire, and turned (apprehensively) screaming, "Are you OK?  Are you OK?  Did it get you?"  I honestly don't remember what he said, just that we met in the house and calmed down. 

At this point, we weren't thinking too much ahead, just on instinct.  The instinct was kill the coon, not much else.  Therefore, in our momentary lapse of intelligent thought, we let the dog out to get the coon.  She didn't bother a bird, miraculously, but she didn't get the coon either.  Arlis is waving a gun around, one of the flashlights died, and the other one needed charging.  I'm carrying a pistol scared to death I'm going to shoot someone or thing because this is absolute chaos my friends.  Feathers and animals everywhere.  Screaming and running.  Hilarious now, not so funny then.  Arlis aims at the dog, thinking it's the coon (he's blind remember?) and pulls the trigger.  Thanks be to God, it didn't fire.  Mya is safe and sound.  I think it's got a hold of one of the ducks so I start screaming, "Shoot the duck!  Just kill the coon!"  No other animals were harmed, please relax.  We went back to the coop very carefully and found the blasted thing dead in the coop.  Dead all this time.  Not following us, not harming birds, no need for Mya or fear or chaos.  Arlis shot it with the shotgun just to be safe, and I opened the back door and pushed it out with the hoe relieved it was over and feeling mighty stupid for overreacting.

In my defense, Arlis coon hunted growing up.  That's different.  You're hunting them with dogs and others in a tree with a shotgun.  Not with rat shot in a small enclosed building where chickens and ducks attack you trying to get out.

Only one hen and two chicks were left in the coop by this point.

 

We put Mya up and spent the next hour rounding up animals.  Daphne was hurt pretty badly, and Niles was bleeding now. They were both so terrified that they let us carry them.  I was afraid I was going to have to kill her myself.  Her skin was missing on one side of her neck from head to wing.  I was afraid of her pain, infection, and rats or other pests bothering or eating her and then wanting the other birds.  (To my relief, she has made a recovery.  Most of her feathers have grown back, and she now just has a small scabby section on her neck.  She is almost back to normal.)  Just Henrietta and that one chick were missing now.  We had to give up and go in.

The next morning, we put Mya on a leash to go out, just to be safe.  Glad we did because we found Henrietta.  She had made it through the night perfectly fine.  Two days later we found the missing chick.  Tough little booger.  It was still alive and strong, just scared apparently.  Arlis closed up the one hole we think was used, and we haven't had a problem since.  We've lost three hens and a chick in the past few weeks, but we have three chicks that will hopefully make good replacements. 

As far as my insomnia goes, it's gone away.  I'm sleeping a whole lot better now again.  Please, feel free to laugh at our expense and remember, the birds are happy and free again, no locking them up.

Faded colors

I noticed our trees started to turn.

 And I noticed my drive to work was getting prettier every day.

 I love to look at a mountain and see a collage.  It makes me think God must love diversity.  That He made all the animals, plants, and people different colors and shapes and sizes for His own pleasure, not just ours or some natural selection requirement.

 Then I come home and breathe in pure joy as I look at what I can call mine.

 What my husband and I have built with our own hands and formed and grown from nothing.  We built all the fences.  We bought all the animals.  We planted all the orchard.  I can say that I've done something.

 And then I can go to my special place where the floor is covered in tall ferns and moss, and the trees surround me like a forest clearing, and I can watch cats and chickens play and see where they've nested in the day while sitting on my special stump in my own back yard.

Thank you God for what You have given me.  We have been truly blessed.

Here's your sign

I have to mention all the stupid people I come across.  

"Your machine printed my photos upside down!"  I turn the photos 180 degrees for her.  "Oh."  A glazed look of bewilderment strikes her face.

"My phone needs a new battery"  "You can't open the package without buying it first."  "Then how do I know if it works?"  "Buy it and try it"  She buys it, I have to install the battery into her cordless house phone....  "There's no dial tone.  It doesn't work."  "You do realize you're too far from home for it to work."  "Oh.  It won't work here?"

"How big is the screen on that 42" inch TV?"

"Will this Windows 7 work on a Dell?"  "What OS do you have?"  "Windows 2000."  "No, this is to upgrade from Windows Vista only."  "Oh.  Well will it work on a Sony?"  "What is your OS on the Sony?"  "Sony" ...  ...   ...  "No...it won't."

"I need a new computer.  My hard drive's full.  I need at least a topabite."

"Do you sell 58k modem cards?"  

"This GPS don't work!  I don't speak Spanish."  He brought back three GPS that hour b/c they "Don't work".(in other words, he couldn't work the thing at ALL!!)

"I bought a new TV there, and now I can't get channel 8!"  "Do you have an antennae?  "You mean I have to get an antennae too?!"

"Do you have the battery for this?"  "No"  "It looks like this."  "We don't have those."  "What if it's blue?"

Cub Scout Growl-Take 2

Remember the tent?

After all the activities of the first blog took place, we kept going to the tent to warm up, because it kept getting colder and colder.  I donned my hat that I knitted a few years ago.  It was more pretty than warm I came to find out.  We ate supper that was provided and then hunted for wood because one of the fathers just HAD to have a fire.  He couldn't get it started.  I finally did (thank you wood stove!).  Like I told him, I can start the stove, I'm just not good at keeping it going.  My husband's the opposite.  Weird.

Anyway, we marched away from the one light-and heat-source in the woods, with no moon in sight (it must have been cloudy) to the camp bon fire thingy.  We met a group going, otherwise we'd still be there at dawn yelling for help to get back home.  (I forgot to pack a flashlight...and a towel...but at least it wasn't the week in girl scout camp when I forgot to pack underwear...that was fun)  I utilized my cell phone for lighting only to find the benches surrounding said bon fire covered in hay.  Dry hay...what were these people thinking.  

Alllllll the way there, I was hoping we could have just stayed lost instead because this one kid was behind us singing the whooooole time, "Where's my momma?  I am sooooo maaaaad.  She was thiiiiiis biiiiig."  By the time we got there, the fire ready benches were a welcome change.  So the leaders sang a bit and talked a bit and then asked if anyone else wanted to.  This kid gets up and sings for us.

"Yesterday I'm walking home from school, walking home from school, walking home from school.  There was momma, and daddy, and brother, and sister-and who knows who else-where's my cousin?  I am soooooo maaaaaad.  He was thiiiiiis big." Holds his fingers up to show an inch.  I hold back tears.  You made one fatal mistake child.  I know what you look like now.  "Where's my momma?  I am sooooo maaaaad.  She was thiiiiiis biiiiig."  Hold hands wide in front of him.  Yeah-real funny kid.  You really know how to get on my good side.

A few more got up and did things, and then the leaders handed out patches to all the boys.  Then they said ,"We have a few extra.  Are there any parents who would like a patch?"  Hey-I EARNED this patch!  So did all the other parents because there was a line to get one.  They must be enjoying themselves as thoroughly as I am, and by the next morning, any who didn't get the patch were kicking themselves I'm sure.

We found our way back to camp more easily than there, mainly because we'd been there before, and warmed at the fire.  Then I went to the bathroom that's never been cleaned, and use by boys, and performed great feats to use it while not touching anything.  A hole in the ground would have been preferable.  But at least I wasn't the next guy that went in.  I warned him the lights were on a timer...he didn't listen...snicker

We went to "bed".  I wore thick pj bottoms, a T-shirt, my hat, my coat, one blanket and one sleeping bag below us, and one blanket and one sleeping bag on us.  Marcus didn't want his toboggan, so I wore it later when he fell asleep.  This tent, I later noticed, was advertised as "well ventilated".....need I say more?

I laid on my left side and held Marcus until I couldn't any more.  Then I laid on my back and found the one rock I inevitably always place my tent upon and held Marcus as long as possible.  Then I rolled to my right and let him shiver until that side goes numb, and my left is ready for more torture.  Meanwhile, a nice cool breeze from the thunderstorm blew through the top of the tent.  We did stay dry.

I also noticed, due to my inability to sleep, that I kept hearing cars driving all night long.  Sure enough, there were far less campers the next morning.  Snicker.  

We packed up, signed out, and got into the car with the heater on full blast.  An hour later, Marcus said he was finally warm enough.  I called home.  Arlis and Dad seemed to find this hilarious and mocked me for two days.  My brother took dad to boy scout campouts, I did not.  I did not think it fair that I should be laughed at as though payback by him when my brother has two daughters and therefore will not encounter this little payback adventure.  But if life were fair....

My son and I got to bond in a wonderful way, and I got a list of stories I have only begun to tell from it.  So all is good. :)  I also got to make my dad cry from laughing...for two days...sigh

Cub Scout Growl

I took Marcus to his first Scout camping trip.  Cute as a button, this Webelo is ready! 

 He was SO excited!  He started packing days ahead, and I was real excited too, as we got to do something together.  Let me say now that he had a great time, we got some things accomplished, and I was very pleased with it all.  Now, on to the fun-

We took a tent.

 Marcus helped set it up.  And then I broke one of the zippers I can only assume was for a power cord-you know, in case your TV needs watching...Fortunately, it didn't leak through.

 Everyone else got to sleep in these things-Many brought a tarp to hang as a curtain.  I was glad for our tent.  They didn't even have mattresses-sheesh!

 After we set up and all, we went onto the activities.  He made a marshmallow gun

 Which he used to shoot me...alot.  And then they went onto the obstacle course with their guns-where a vast amount of marshmallows were sacrificed on pie pans.

 I was real proud of how well he did.

After this, we went onto the BB range.  Here we have groups of 5-10 year olds with BB's and bows and arrows.  It's a wonder there were no fatalities.  He set up his target.

 I was REAL proud of him here, and praised Arlis on his teaching of Marcus how to shoot.  He did everything without any instruction while all the other kids had to have their parents help them...for pretty much everything.  Except for the kid next to Marcus whose grandmother didn't help, and he kept aiming down the shelter at the other kids while he was trying to cock his gun because it was too hard for him to cock.  That was scary. 

He did really well too.  The instructor commented to him privately.  All the other parents claimed the guns were off because if their child couldn't even hit the target it must be the gun.  I laughed inwardly and told Arlis in laughter later on the phone.  (There's two bullseyes) (Allow to me say I am not, nor was I ever laughing at the children.  I was laughing at the parents.  The children did the best they could with what they knew how to do.  And if you look below, you'll see my own not do too well either)

 Now for archery!  He wasn't very good at archery.  The arrow kept falling off the bow.  I kept waiting for him to hit someone with it.

 The instructor had to help him alot.  (maybe his bow was off-ha ha!)

 He did manage to hit the last two on target, and the last one near the center!  So maybe he'll get the hang of it eventually.

Then he got to be part of the color guard

 And take down the American flag.

The rest of the evening will be presented in the next installment-Cub Scout Growl-take 2.