How Sweet It Is

It is exactly three weeks ago today that the poodles, Pooker, and I moved to the new house. And today, exactly three weeks later, the other feathers and furs joined us. They moved in like they have been waiting to arrive, waiting to demonstrate their new routines. And they got right to it.

At some point I'll be able to articulate what I am feeling in this moment. For now, I'll use words like relief, contentment, satisfaction, pride, exhaustion, hopeful, encouraged, grateful, humbled, determined, protective, accomplished.

Today, it's mostly about the word gratitude. Heaps and buckets, rivers and pools, an endless supply.

Moving the ranch is not easy. Moving while renovating is not easy. Moving while leaving half your family behind is definitely not easy. Without my friends, well, let's just say I was fortunate enough to not know what that would mean.

I thank you, my friends and family, for your support, your time, your encouragement, your talent, your car, your trailer, your truck, your generosity, your caring, your strength, your humor, your effort, your thoughtfulness, your food, YOU.

I love you all. You all have your own spot in my heart. And while my animals are not sure who some of you are yet, I know they too send you love because they know who and what is important to me, that is for sure.

So, as I sit here worn out from the day's physical activity and emotional experience, I am freshly showered and comfortable on my sofa. The night air is cooling. I can hear the night bugs, I can hear my pups breathing in deep sleep. And I can hear my boys outside my window moving around, Shadow calling up to me on occasion, and I can reassure him quite easily no matter where I am in the house.

This is how sweet it is.

Rosie the Riveter

"We can do it!"

I always said that I don't want to have an animal on the ranch that I cannot handle.  Of course, there are things that require the expertise of others, but it has always been important to me that my animals come when called, respond appropriately and treat me with respect.  It doesn't mean they all don't have their bad boy or bad girl moments, but at the end of the day, they know who rules the roost.  And it has to be that way.

While taking care of the animals was always my responsibility, I used to have help from the ranch hand for projects, repairs, an occasional feeding and trimming goat hooves once the little wethers got too big for me to tip and hold down to do on my own.  Then things changed and the directive was given not to help me any longer.  He would sneak help me with certain things, acknowledging it was a lot of work for one person.

I don't have a ranch hand at my new place but on occasion I could call him and hire him to help me with a few things.  With Pinkie's recent vet bills and the rising cost of hay and feed, my budget is too tight to call in help.

This morning, I woke up feeling strong.  I did two 20 minute segments of Rodney Yee's Power Yoga video and then I did plank for 1:14, which I used my timer to record because I wasn't sure if I was really hitting that 6 minute mark that it felt like!  With the sun shining and the air still, the temperature was very agreeable and inviting for spending the morning outdoors.

I took care of the regular chores: giving Alibi his twice daily Cosequin supplement; treating Faramir and Hy Note to a bite of carrot; loading the cart and putting out hay for the horses and different hay for the goodles; opening up the hen house and greeting each one as they dash out the door to their morning treat of a sprinkling of hen crack; doing a quick about face to shoo Shadow, who had bolted down there like an Olympic sprinter, out of the hen house so he couldn't eat their grain; filling water bowls and buckets; scooping up bad boy Ginger as he chased after my little Squirrel; greeting the sparrows and finches who live in the hay shed; and before scooping 30-40 piles of horse poop, I took advantage of an empty poop cart and head over to start raking pine needles.

The goats' hooves have been on my mind for a while.  I had been hoping I could call someone to come help me trim them.  Everything here just seemed calm and according to plan.  When that's the vibe, it is to be fully appreciated and every second is to be used up.  The goodles had been browsing for over an hour and Pippin started following me around.  We've been doing a lot of work to set a firm routine with him as routine is not in his repertoire.  He needs to do something I ask and then he gets a peanut.  There is no more random doling out of peanuts.

We were near the rails and he stuck his head through to eat the hay on the other side and I thought, this is it.  We can do it!  I filled my pocket with peanuts, I grabbed a long lead rope and the trimmers, he followed me back to the rails and I looped his horns, tied the rope well (still not in the perfect knot but he wasn't getting out), gave him praise and a peanut and picked up one of his feet.  At first he was not into the idea but he quickly relented, stood still, I trimmed, we kissied like mad and he got more peanuts.  I did all 4 of his feet, released him and continued to praise him and thank him.  That was easy.

I think it was easy for two reasons: Pippin was sick as a baby so I had to pick him up a lot, handle him, stick a thermometer up his little rump and he learned that I was never going to hurt him and, he has no fear.

We all went over to the pine trees and I resumed raking.  Ginger got a hold of Squirrel and just as I grabbed him, Bodie grabbed Squirrel.  I have learned that if you can catch a dog in the split second they are doing something they are not supposed to do, that's your only moment for teaching.  I let go of Ginger, grabbed Bodie, Squirrel ran, Ginger ensued until he ran into Big Red at which time I knew Squirrel was safe and I went on to scold Bodie.  All of this happened in a matter of 5 seconds.  Bodie was mortified that he got in trouble.  If you have never seen a dog embarrassed before, his body language and eyes were it in full definition.  It was a moment of chaos and being a herder, he jumped in to see whose heels he could nip.

Several wheel barrows full of pine needles are piled in the center of the dry lot waiting for fuel to ignite. I have the fuel, I need the torch.  Then it was time to attend to the morning chore of poop scooping.

I was hearing it--today was the day to trim Shadow's hooves too.  Now Shadow weighs a good 50 pounds more than Pippin and is quite a bit bigger.  Shadow is a good boy, cooperative, respectful and also does not like to be in trouble.  But, he's much stronger than I am.  I went into the house to use the restroom, refill my water bottle and thought, if I'm going to do this, perhaps a big bite of a power bar will help me along.

I came out to find Shadow at the yard gate waiting for me and Pippin was back in the dry lot taking advantage of his choice of hay without being bullied.  Shadow had been browsing for a couple of hours at this point and his belly was like a bowl full of jelly.  He wanted a nap, he wanted to cuddle.  Later.  I went about tying him up the same way as I did Pippin and I slowly encroached upon his limited space, giving him less room to wiggle around.

Fortunately and most serendipitously, I was dressed perfectly for hoof trimming.  Shadow could move his head enough to grab hold of my loose jacket and jeans (the one pair of loose jeans I own!) with his sharp teeth.  Anything tighter might have yielded him a bit of my skin.

This took work.  He is so strong he can pump his hind leg in my hand in such a manner it's like holding onto a jack hammer.  So, having had this experience before, I opted for a smaller win which was his front feet.  We needed to both feel good about this experience and I did not want to get hurt.  I got his feet trimmed, he got peanuts and love and then I wanted to pick up both feet again before we called it quits.  When he allowed me to hold his foot without any struggle, I released the foot, praised him like mad and gave him more peanuts.  I did the same with the other side.

So, yes, it's a lot of work to do and it's hard work at times but if I go about it with a clear head, confidence in my ability, fully focused and with a lot of love and compassion, things get done and we're all still friends.

And so can I.  This is what I tell myself every day.

The Gift of Neighbors

Of course we can all take care of ourselves--haven't we just convinced ourselves of that?

But neighbors. Let me tell you about our neighbors out in Tumalo. We love our neighbors. We have learned oodles of tricks and tips from them. We have shared celebrations and holidays and lazy weekend days with them.

Larry and I have come to appreciate and enjoy fully the beauty and necessity of knowing your neighbors. A farm setting definitely lends itself to looking out for your neighbor.

Today, a day of extreme conditions, we were enormously grateful for all of our neighbors who despite dealing with their own extremes took time out to look after us.

Our plan was to wake up to our alarm at 5am to leave for the airport by 6am. At 4:55am my cell phone rang and it was Barb calling to be sure we were awake as the power had gone off overnight. Just minutes later, Steve was at the door knocking, "Are you awake? There's no power!"

So there we were, awake in a mighty cold house in -11 degrees! That is not a hyphen. The faucet water felt warm when I washed my face. Felon, who I've been letting sleep in the mudroom, took an unauthorized tour of the front of the house only to return to the mudroom because it was about 10 degrees warmer in there--everything is relative.

Leaving for the airport on time was easy. No showers, no breakfast, no clean-up. We made our way along the roads and noticed that Richard and April, our neighbors across the way, did have power. What a sigh of relief. Last night we dropped off Pooker to be in their loving care while we are away.

Leighsa texted to check to see if we got our flight okay. Barb and Randall checked that the chickens were still alive and Barb defrosted their water and refilled it. April called to let us know that despite the power outage for some of us, Pooker was doing fine and in fact, she made the room warmer for the little one. We got picked up at the airport, a little later arrival than scheduled, by Larry's office manager and when we arrived at the house in LB, the housekeeper and maintenance engineer met us in the garage with hugs and helping arms.

So to all of our neighbors, city slickers and Tumaloans alike, thank you for caring.

Put a holiday light strand on that and you've got yourself a fine present!

The 2nd Cutting

We just watched our last neighbor cut, fluff, bale and stack the 2nd cutting of hay. This means something.

The irrigation companies turn on the water in late April. The ranches along the route wait as the water makes it way from the reservoirs down the irrigation ditches, filling irrigation ponds. When your neighbor up the ditch starts watering, you know your turn is next.

In preparation for the incoming supply of water, fields are often burned, turned, seeded, pipes are put out, equipment is emptied of the mice nests that built up over the winter, whatever is necessary to prepare.

Then for the next 2 - 2 1/2 months we monitor and adjust water flow, change the location of irrigation heads to be sure every blade is getting showered, we wait and watch as the hay grows under the sun of the long days here in Central Oregon. It grows by inches in a day. Each ranch shuts off the water when they are preparing to cut; this gives the hay time to dry. Then the first cutting comes, some time in late June/early July. The 1st cutting is a herald of summer--it's officially here. This is exciting! It's summer, it's hot, and everything is alive!

Once the hay is cut, baled and stacked, the watering begins again to grow the 2nd cutting. But then when the 2nd cutting comes, during the weeks of September, it means something else. The days are shorter, the hay of the 2nd cutting isn't as power-packed as the 1st, it doesn't grow as energetically as the 1st. And we all know it means fall is coming. There isn't a 3rd cutting.

The watering begins again, but this time just to keep the grass growing and green and give the horses pasture to eat before it goes dormant in the winter. The irrigation will be shut down at the beginning of October. No more "tick tick tick tick tick" of the water guns as they rotate around in a circle showering feet of green carpet. That is a summer sound.

Who would have thought that there was so much significance in cutting hay? It marks a definite season, for sure.