for the barnyard

 A Christmas morning treat.

These seasonal spice cookies are heavy on the molasses and loved by all the critters.

An occasional cookie hasn't hurt anyone yet, so they were a perfect sweet indulgence.

We mixed in plenty of veggies, too.

Good Practice

"Mommy, are you sleeping out there?" I heard my daughter call from the back door. My eyes were open; she must have picked-up on the stillness. What is it about sitting down by the chickens that slows my breath and nudges my mind past thought? I watch it come over the kids sometimes...the eyes seeing everything and nothing for a moment as they hold a bird and listen to the sounds of the flock.

The same thing is experienced sitting within a herd of horses, or cows. After initial observation, the mind accepts the movements and sounds as a sort of rhythm. Even the occasional squabble rolls into the pattern. You are aware of it all, but without surface level thought. Could we say it's a moment of transcendental consciousness?  I think time spent with the healthy herd or flock can ease us into this state of relaxation. The dramas of the human experience are reflected in the animal kingdom; we can see them cycle and resolve, but aren't pulled into unnecessary action or judgment. We are invited to share the time and space without attachment. Good practice.

Seven Roosters – Japanese Woodblock Print by Hokusai. Katsushika Hokusai (葛飾 北斎, 1760 – 1849)


 

removing the tag

A few of you asked how I was going to remove the tag from Vera's ear. I wasn't sure because I'd never bought a tagged animal from an auction. Like so many other questions this first year on the homestead, I thought I could probably find the answer at Tractor Supply Company or Southern States.


Me: "My goat has a tag I need to remove; do you have something I can use to do it myself?"

(doing it ourselves is what keeps this whole thing going)

Tractor Supply Guy: "Yes m'am, right over here"

I know, I got m'amed, but in the context of buying a livestock ear tag remover at Tractor Supply it felt quite right. $4.99 later I was headed home to free her from her big plastic earring.


In case you were wondering, this is how it works:

The tag reads, unlawful to remove, so the first step is to ignore that.

Take the knife and slide it between the tag and the ear. You will be cutting the post that goes through the ear. Get a firm grip and gently pull on the hook while moving in a twisting motion.  Do not tug too hard or you could do more damage to the ear - especially long ones like this Nubian cross has.

Next apply antiseptic to the hole in the ear to clean it and prevent infection.

It does leave quite a hole

This is what Vera thinks of ear tags

the next morning

Everyone was safe this morning.

While collecting eggs we found this nest in the honeysuckle by the coop...

Life goes on - get back up on your horse.

the difficult days

As I write this I hear the red hen, Penny, calling again and again to the flock that will not answer. I've been up since 3:30 this morning when I heard bird cries through the window. I grabbed a dim flashlight and ran to the hen house in boots and pajamas. I didn't want to look. I didn't want to scream if I saw it - the creature who had torn these bodies and lay them out in the pen yard. Some bodies were missing, some looked as if they were killed for sport, their beautiful feathers plucked and left in the mud.

Two birds looked dead at first, but upon further inspection I could see they were breathing. They are inside and I'm hoping for the best. Two chicks found a crack in the wall to hide in. Their bodies were so stiff with fear I thought them dead at first. I put them in my shirt while I searched for survivors. Three adults looked at me from high in their perch.

As the sun came up the morning birds threw their songs back and forth in the trees above. My path back to the hen house was paved with dandelions; some of them rose and flew away - goldfinches - I wasn't paying attention. I was thinking about telling the kids. I hurried them out the front door to the bus this morning. I wasn't ready for the tears. The birds we have had for close to three years are gone. All but two of the teenagers are gone. Belly feathers fell from the sky - sparrows were collecting them for nests. The survivors got a drink of water. I grabbed the rake and started to cleaning.

This week the southeastern storms washed away many of my seedlings setting back the garden by weeks. My hen house, inside a fence within a larger fence was ravaged. Around town I've listened to the stories of lambs being dragged off, wild dogs killing kid goats, and hen house slaughters. I wondered if I could escape the experience - it seemed everyone with livestock had their story. How can you ask to be this close to life and only accept one side of the coin? This is the baptism -this is the "jump-in".

I've posted my childhood prayer for animals before. We'll say it at their grave today:

Dear mother
hear and bless
thy beasts and singing birds
and guard with tenderness
small things that have no words.

Rest in peace,
Falcon & Friends

a boy and his ducks

The girls have been busy working on handling their hens for poultry showmanship competition. The boy must set himself apart...

I'm happy to say he has fallen in love with his waddling troupe and we're all learning about waterfowl as we go along.

One of my first posts (many months ago) was about children's connections with animals and the importance my early years on the farm played in my development. I am thankful that we now find ourselves in a place where my children can experience these gifts.

Our task must be to free ourselves... by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty.

Albert Einstein



studio audience

My little studio looks out toward the back yard - I always have an audience.

Their level of interest can range from endearing to spooky.

the renegade pony and the little prince

I woke to a cold, grey morning - chewed granola and watched clouds roll themselves over the mountain and linger, dropping a steady rain over the forest and fields. As I settled into some work, I received a call, our little pony, who is staying at farm over the mountain while we prepare the barn for her, had escaped and was running around evading all efforts to capture her. She refused apples and sugar. She disappeared into the woods and returned, defiantly tossing her head and kicking up her heals.

I left my work on the table, dragged my son (home from school with a stomach bug) into the car and took off to capture our renegade mare.

When I pulled up I saw her across the field. I was prepared to chase her around in the rain cursing, but she waited as I walked across the field and took hold of her halter. She licked the palm of my outstretched hand, steamy breath lingering above the tall grass.

"You had me drive over here with my sick child in the rain you absolutely naughty little brat!" She just looked at me and her eyes reminded me of a story:

"Good morning," said the fox.

"Good morning," the little prince responded politely, although when he turned around he saw nothing.

"I am right here," the voice said, "under the apple tree."

"Who are you?" asked the little prince, and added, "You are very pretty to look at."

"I am a fox," said the fox.

"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy."

"I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed."

"Ah! Please excuse me," said the little prince.

But, after some thought, he added:

"What does that mean-- 'tame'?"

"You do not live here," said the fox. "What is it that you are looking for?"

"I am looking for men," said the little prince. "What does that mean-- 'tame'?"

"Men," said the fox. "They have guns, and they hunt. It is very disturbing. They also raise chickens. These are their only interests. Are you looking for chickens?"

"No," said the little prince. "I am looking for friends. What does that mean-- 'tame'?"

"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. It means to establish ties."

"'To establish ties'?"

"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..."

"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince. "There is a flower... I think that she has tamed me..."

"It is possible," said the fox. "On the Earth one sees all sorts of things."

"Oh, but this is not on the Earth!" said the little prince.

The fox seemed perplexed, and very curious.

"On another planet?"

"Yes."

"Are there hunters on this planet?"

"No."

"Ah, that is interesting! Are there chickens?"

"No."

"Nothing is perfect," sighed the fox.

But he came back to his idea.

"My life is very monotonous," the fox said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the colour of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..."

The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.

"Please-- tame me!" he said.

"I want to, very much," the little prince replied. "But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."

"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me..."

"What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince.

"You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me-- like that-- in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day..."

~ Antoine de Saint Exupéry

And so, on this cold, rainy day I realize that my cycle of water carrying,feeding and brushing has tamed this little horse. She had been left alone for so long before we bought her and I wondered if she would respond, whether she felt a need for connection, but now I understand - she was just following taming protocol.

the mysterious spectrum - Horse Boy

poster photos by O. Rufus Lovett and Justin Hennard




A couple months ago I picked up the movie, Horse Boy while returning some of the kid's DVDs. I didn't have the time to watch it that week, so I catalogued it with the ever growing list of movies I intend to watch. This one in particular kept popping up, so I decided to make time.


Horse Boy is an insightful and moving documentary about a couple who's son is diagnosed with Autism and how they come to the decision to travel through Mongolia on horseback to visit nomadic Shaman in the hopes of finding help for their son. The movie touches on the connection between humans and animals, the increasing role fathers are taking in the development of their children, and the ties between cultures.


Autism is a core element to this story, but it acts as a symbol for so many other aspects of family life.

When people speak about Autism now, they speak about the spectrum. Because there are so many different ways that Autism manifests, it is extremely hard to make concrete rules for diagnosis. What each family needs will vary greatly, but I wonder if in some cases the struggle is being increased by our need to fit people so neatly into education systems and careers. One doctor in the movie points out that if you study the healers in other cultures, you will find that they all have something that we would label, "being on the spectrum" in this country. Are our environmental factors pushing over the edge a natural variation in human experience?

What do I know about this great mystery of the mind? Not much, but here's something I'm certain of - nature can heal. It brought tears to my eyes to see this father push to follow his instinct to keep his son close to the animals and the earth. And here's something else - some of the ways I see and hear things - ways of viewing the world that I find invaluable in my work, would land me somewhere on the autism spectrum. Seeing sound, tasting color, using language in "odd" ways, general sensitivity to my environment are all things that can be found on various Autism check lists.

What this film really drove home was that for many people the answer isn't going to come from an effort to fit the person into the lifestyle, but to find the lifestyle that fits the person. I hope parents can be open to that kind of flexibility whether the struggle stems from Autism or any number of other things. I'm asking myself right now to answer hard questions about where my family will flourish.

contentment and responsibility (sunbathing with a chicken)

Oh, the honest pleasure of soaking in the sun's rays close to someone you trust.

It's moments like this that evoke a feeling of pity for the human animal. Here we are with this miracle mind - one that harnesses wonders and dazzles with its explorations, yet can't make out a path to peace and abundance. It's the stories about the oil in the water, the poison on our plate, and the unending rotation of battle that make it apparent we forgot that balancing at such great heights requires responsibility.

When holding an animal that's content you realize that you pretty much require the same things to get there - a lack of hunger, companionship, and trust. I know, those things go by a lot of other names....if only being seduced by complications didn't cause so much harm.

small things that have no words

Do you remember the little chick from the last post? I am very sorry to say he didn't make it. Our best efforts could not stoke the spark of life; we hiked into the woods tonight to bury him.

We had a conversation about birth and what miracle it is when everything comes together just so to form a healthy thriving baby and that sometimes, despite our best efforts, that fragile life slips away. What a gift it is for children to spend time with animals, It gives us an opportunity to talk about the biggest topics of life...to feel them and digest them.

As a child I had special prayer that I always recited when I laid an animal to rest, here it is -

Dear nature, hear and bless

Thy beasts and singing birds:

And guard with tenderness

small things that have no words.

calling the chicken underground

My son's class hatched chicks this week, one of the chicks took a long time to come out, in fact I believe the teacher let them help it along (probably not a good idea) She took a long time to stand and didn't open her eyes for a day and a half. Her feet are crooked and point in. For all of these reasons she was having trouble getting food and water with the group. My son was hand feeding her in class and found out the farm didn't want her back...well, guess where she is now.

This is all very, Charlot's Webb, but we can't keep another chick. We will care for her until she is more self sufficient, but we would love if she could find a loving home. She came from a brown egg - that's all I know.

Are you in love yet?