Odds and Ends and Escape Attempts - Both Caprine and Fowl

Thursday flew by, mostly consumed with doing work on a typing job I have at home. (Hurrah!)  I don't think that anything really unique happened at all, except I was happy to learn that Phillip Phillips will be in the American Idol finale.  I know, I live a really exciting life, eh?

The last time I made cucumber melon soap, the imprint stamp in the bottom slipped, so the pattern was off and they were unsuitable for sale.  I melted and remolded the soaps on Friday morning and plan to get some good photos taken (now that I have a tripod) and get those listed at etsy.com.  Typing again Friday morning.  I really enjoy this job and wish I had more of this type of work.  I have some plans to see if I can expand it over the summer.

We got home late on Friday, so feeding the animals and moving the goats to the barn, milking, was all done after dark.  On a warm summer night it's not too bad, and definitely better than rain.  I am grateful to have a good cover over us for milking, and the time was spent pleasantly ... until just about the time Imbri was done eating her grain.  I started to hear the yipping and squeals of coyote pups.  There's something that's really indescribable about the sound of them.  They sound cute, because it's obvious they are trying to be "big," and are learning a craft, but some of the sounds they make are spine-tingling.  Then, the adults joined in.  Typically I can hear one or two groups, but that night I was surrounded.  The coyotes were far away, probably not even on our land, but there were at least five distinguishable areas, and they were all around me.  Their voices soared and the pups went silent, and then after a couple of verses, joined in the chorus.  It's magical and frightening at the same time.  There's a primal instinct that tells you to get the critters and yourself indoors.  My friend, Tammy, described her reaction at hearing these at her old home - and my reaction - perfectly.  "Smiling with goosebumps."

Saturday morning was bright and sunny, with no trace of the fog that had haunted the last few days.  It was still cool as I started the morning routine, but nice and clear, and I smiled really big when I saw the barn door.  Salsa was ready to get out, and had turned the handle open.  There is a lock on the door, but I don't lock animals into a building, in case someone needs to get them out in an emergency.  This is why my dad built a bar to go across the outside of the door.  Often as I move it into place at night, I hear in my mind, "Katie, bar the door," and feel like a pioneer woman.  I decided to see if I could record Salsa playing her game with the door, and it worked.  I had Becca look at this video later in the day, and she laughed out loud, saying that it was funny and kinda creepy at the same time.  Maybe you'll enjoy it, too.

She's a smart goat!  While I was turning off the recording on my phone, she opened the handle again and suddenly slammed into the door.  She's done this before, and the screws on one side of the piece securing the bar come slightly loose and I have to slam it back in. 

Zeus and Persephone have been outside for a couple of weeks now and are settling into their little chicken area nicely.  Although Imbri used to answer Zeus when he crowed, I never noticed Foghorn taking any notice of him, until Saturday morning.  I was working at the computer when I realized that they were answering each other, Zeus crowing, and then Foggy.  That was fun to hear.  Zeus is getting more confident in himself and is really starting to sound like a rooster, instead of a frog trying to croak out a crow.

The plan was to bring the four youngest chicks outside and introduce them to Americaunas.  Becca went on a hike with her sisters and their husbands, so it was me all alone when it came time to make that decision.  I kept putting off doing it, because I knew it was going to be a challenge, moving the box out to the run and physically getting four chickens into a new area.  Suddenly, I heard a huge commotion coming from the room they are in, and - as always - I was afraid one of the many predators in our house had found a way in.  It was Traz doing her normal routine, trying to escape, and getting close.  She has learned that if she flies up really hard and fast, she can dislodge the clothespins holding a section of the netting, and get out.  I decided that it was time to go ahead and put them outdoors, NOW.

It's a large, square box they are in, difficult to handle.  I dragged it at first, and then decided to go ahead and pick it up.  I was afraid of them trying the escape routine into my face while I carried the box, but the movement had them staying close to the bottom and cautious.  Picking them up and putting them into the small run was easier than transferring the food and water.  I got everyone in and secured the bird netting over the top opening, confident they'd be happy enough outside to not try to escape.

I underestimated Traz.  More on that later.

Zeus and Persephone were fascinated by their new neighbors.  They might recognized their chirps, because though they never saw each other, they probably talked like prison inmates through the walls.  Zeus paced back and forth, looking up and down, trying to find a way to get in to see these new chicks in the neighborhood. 

They seemed to all be doing fine, so I went back into the house to work, leaving a door open so I could hear any problems, and doing an occasional head count.  I heard a commotion outside and again leaped up to see what was going on.  I stepped outside and saw ... Traz, out of the pen and perched happily on a bar on the top.  She was comfy, just sitting there, looking at the other chickens as if to say, "Hey, what's taking you so long?  It's nice up here!"  I slowly approached, hoping she wouldn't move, and she didn't.  She stayed still and I picked her up and gently placed her back inside.  Then I put a piece of plywood over the opening.  They stayed put the rest of the day.

I would have taken a picture if I hadn't been so concerned about getting her back in quickly.

The rest of the day was uneventful.  I was able to move the chicks back indoors for the night (they need to be introduced slowly so there's no crazy chicken gang fighting when the new kids move in) and the only sound that night was the beautiful voices of people singing at the retreat center next door.  What a great way to end a great day.

A note on the Sonoma Chicken Salad.  I forgot to mention that I didn't use the poppy seeds in the recipe, and it was just fine.  In fact, I think better, because I'm not a big fan of poppy seeds. 

Short Work Week

Just another week in paradise.  How lucky are we to be able to live in Sonoma County's wine country?  This is the time of year when the grapevines begin to turn, spectacular colors beginning to appear, as they prepare to lose their leaves and add to the Fall glamour of bare vines and trees waiting for the warmth of Spring.  The air as we drive down Westside Road is fragrant with the smells of harvest and crush.  Grapes freshly harvested have a spicy smell that makes me want to start baking, and I don't mind as much being behind a large truck filled with the fruit, or a slow tractor making its way to the next vineyard.  The crushed grapes tantalize with a hint of the wines to come, and I wish that I had the time to stop at one of the many wineries just to taste and bring a bottle home.

Sunday afternoon we got aaaaall dressed up for a wedding, our first since CorSica (Cory and Jessica) were married in May.  Guess what?  I can wear my mother-of-the-bride dress again!  It's too beautiful to keep in a closet forever, and I was so happy to be able to put it on again.  This time I wore some sassy shoes, though after about 5 hours, Becca grabbed my boots from the car and I got my feet into something more comfortable for dancing.  Becca was going to wear her bridesmaid dress from CorSica's wedding, but decided to change into a cute little blue print dress that she looked really sweet in.  This was the wedding of the mother of one of Becca's best friends.  Diane has been through a lot the last several years, heartbreak that was just too public (in the newspaper) and helping her kids to pick up the pieces while she did the same for herself.  She and Reuben met in a divorce group and started out as friends.  Their friendship grew into a beautiful loving relationship, and they celebrated their wedding and new blended family on 10-10-10.

The wedding was hosted by a family from their church, who provides a beautiful setting on Mark West Springs Road AND catering and decorations to boot, as part of their ministry.  Diane and Reuben didn't have the means for a fancy wedding, and Diane's expectations of something very simple were blown away by the gift of this fabulous setting for their wedding.  The oak trees were filled with paper lanterns and accented by tiny white lights that sprang to life after the sun went down.  It was a perfect day, still warm even as guests started dancing to fun music.  I hope for a lifetime of happiness together for these generous, loving people.

Monday was a day off of work for me, but not for Becca.  Columbus Day is a "charged holiday" in this household, you could say.  The partners at the law firm I work at select the court holidays that we'll get off at the first of each year, and they normally would have chosen Cesar Chavez Day, but the mid-week holidays are more difficult, and definitely not as fun, so we had off the day commemorating the person who supposedly "discovered" North America, and who decimated and enslaved native populations wherever he traveled.  At our house, this is Indigenous Peoples Day.  Take that, Columbus.  This has happened before, where I have a day off work, but Becca still needs to go to school.  A few years ago, the first time this happened, I made the assumption that Becca was off school, too.  Imagine my surprise when I got the phone call from the school that she was absent!  Whoops!  I am always careful to check now.

What to do with myself?  I had a whole day to myself.  I made it productive and fun, too.  After bringing Becca to school, I took a trip to the feed store (of course) and headed home.  Lots of laundry to catch up on, and some major reorganization needed in the living room, meant that I could do both AND catch up on some of the television programs I'd recorded on the DVR.  I started some focaccia in the bread machine, and got busy.  I needed to leave about 12:30 to meet Dr. S and pick up a tape to transcribe, otherwise, I was on a roll at home.  For lunch, I decided to use all these wonderful things I had from home.  I grabbed the chevre I'd made the previous weekend, and some of the pesto I've been making and freezing from farmer's market basil.  I mixed them together, and spread it on the freshly baked focaccia.  Good food like this is even more special when everything has been made by you from the freshest ingredients possible.  A lovely interlude!  (I used the bread, cheese and pesto as lunch for most of the rest of the work week, adding fresh tomato slices from our garden!)

I picked up Becca early and we headed back home.  She is getting really good about using her time after school to work on homework, so that it is much less stressful for her in the evening at home.  She had all of her homework assignments completed - yay!  We pulled up to the gate on Westside and Becca got out to open the gate so I could drive the car through.  She hopped back in, and we started the car, looking up the driveway to see a deer grazing by the road, just past the orchard.  We don't get to see deer very often lately, so it's always a treat.  Then it raised its head, and Becca and I both said, "Buck!"  He was a beautiful young boy, probably four points, and he started to move up the driveway as I slowly approached in the car.  We followed him for quite some time, as Becca and I laughed joyfully at how his jumps and hops reminded us of Mooney, our wether goat, who boings just like this deer was.  When the buck found a break on the side of the driveway, he leapt down the hill and was quickly out of sight behind the trees.  We never know what we will find on our .8 mile drive from Westside to the house, and love seeing the wildlife.  We were too transfixed, and he was moving too quickly, to get a picture.

Tuesday evening, I handed Becca the filled grain scoops and she headed off toward the milk stand while I gathered the alfalfa for evening feeding.  I heard her call to me, cautiously.  I popped my head out and asked what was up, and she said, "Snake," very quietly.  "Where??"  "In the grass there," pointing.  As she was walking by an area behind the house that I let get a little overgrown, she said she heard it slither, and saw the tail end of a brown snake go into the grass.  She didn't see or hear a rattle, but we never know, so we took it easy and avoided that area for the night.

The next morning, I heard water running and realized that I'd forgotten to turn off the sprinklers for my potted garden.  I turned off the faucet and went back to investigate where the sound was coming from, because it shouldn't have sounded like a water fountain.  Something had dug into the arugula, lettuce and two of the four blueberry bush pots the night before.  The lettuce was almost completely destroyed, because the soil in that pot had turned to sludge, and they'd been buried and floating in water, which had filled the pot because the sprinkler had been pulled up and unhooked.  I quickly transplanted what could be salvaged into another pot, and fixed some of the mussed dirt in the other pots.  It wasn't the cat, because he likes to use leaves and there was no evidence that he'd left anything in there.  It's a puzzle that I'm still trying to figure out, because whatever it was dug into the arugula again last night.  No evidence of raccoons, because nothing is eating Star's cat food.

We headed off to school, and as we were driving along Westside, I saw a coyote dash down the hillside to the side of the road.  She grabbed a newspaper, of all things, and ran back up the hill a short ways, standing there with the newspaper in her mouth as we drove by.  We wondered if she was making a nest for the winter, or what it might be for.  We often despair at the garbage and items left dumped by the roadside, but if the animals can make some use out of some of it, good for them.  Despite signs along some of the roadways warning of the illegality of dumping and camera surveillance, we see cartons of beer cans, mattresses, old appliances, even car seats - and I don't mean the kind you strap children into - full-on car seats from a vehicle.  We stop and pick up the items that we can when they are in a safe place for us to get them, but sometimes we have to complain to each other for months about something left that we can't get to.

The rescue of the miners in Chile started on Wednesday.  I had heard about the collapse when it happened,  the discovery of the surviving men and the start of the long process to retrieve them.  When I heard about the size of the capsule that was going to bring them 2000 feet up to the surface, I started to feel claustrophobic just thinking about it.  I recognize that I'm not suited to be a miner underground that far in the first place, so I'm sure that they were more okay with it than I would be - and the impetus to get out of there had to have been great after 69 days.  I was really surprised, however, when I got to work and asked someone if they'd heard about the rescue starting, and she ... didn't know what I was talking about.  She hadn't heard about the accident, about the discovery of them alive, about the preparations to get them out, or even the rescue that started that morning and was on all of the radio stations and the front of the local newspaper in our lobby.  I know I have a lot going on in my life, and I do get hyper-focused sometimes on my day-to-day living, but how can one be so out of touch with what is happening in the world to miss this story - completely?

Thursday morning, drive to school.  Only two more work days left until the weekend!  We listen to country radio on Froggy 92.9 in the morning.  A song came on the radio that we didn't recognize, and that always causes Becca and I turn up the volume and listen to it.  Wow, was this a good song.  Brett Eldredge, an artist I hadn't heard of before, singing "Raymond."  It is such as sweet song, about a man who works in a nursing home and one of the residents who has taken to him.  He brings her coffee every morning, and listens to her talk.  She calls him Raymond, and thinks that he is her son.  Such a tender song, sad to think of all the lost souls alone and without family, but such hope recognizing those who give of themselves to love and care for them.  Don't miss it if you can listen to it or watch the video here.

And then, that same afternoon, I learned that one of the sweetest, smartest, strongest ladies I've had the pleasure to know in my life, passed away at 92 1/2 after suffering the attack on her body by cancer.  I knew Ruth from R Ranch at the Lake.  She loved the place and had been a member there even before R Ranch was started, when it was a Napa Valley Horseman's Club.  Her daughter, Nancy, has had the struggle of helplessly watching her mother suffer in pain and trying so hard to make her at ease, knowing she was going to lose her.  My heart goes out to all of them.  I'll miss Ruth, but will always carry her and her example of quiet and loving and happy strength in my heart, to remember and learn from.

And this is what the beautiful sky looked like on the day that we lost Ruth.  A fitting tribute to her ...

The bucklings were trying to bust out of their crate last night, so this weekend I'll look for their mother's paperwork, see if I can get the boys registered, and see if that will help me find new homes for them.  I was able to get up early enough this morning to start a batch of yogurt and some honey wheat bread. Soon Becca will be up, and we'll get ready to head to Santa Rosa and meet up with Jessica, Amanda, and Amanda's future mother-in-law Marie, for an afternoon at the wedding expo.  This will be the first I've ever been to, so it should be interesting.  I know that it will definitely be fun to spend time with all my girls and Marie.  I hope all of you have a fabulous weekend, too!

Changes

Today we decided to see a movie. Everyone has been talking about Toy Story 3. I don’t think we’ve ever seen any of the Toy Story movies in the theater, but this was one of a few that Becca and I could agree on. I’ve heard so many people say that they cried during this movie, and couldn’t figure out why. About halfway through, I was thinking to myself, “There’s no way I can cry at this movie.” I was wrong. I won’t give away any part of the movie, but if you’ve seen it, you know where the tears started to sting. I fought them back. And then, at *that* moment, I couldn’t hold them back anymore. I sat there trying to surreptitiously dry my tears so no one would notice, wondering why the heck I got all teary at that part. Harrumph. Maybe there’s a soft spot still in this guarded heart.

After the movie, we had a little bit of extra time before Becca’s swim lesson, so we drove North on Healdsburg Avenue to see what was down there. I found the back way to the dump. I haven’t found the Salvation Army store/compound yet, but think that it’s in that direction.

Before Becca’s lesson, I talked to the instructor and told him that she didn’t meet the criteria for the class he was teaching, and even though other instructors said that she could be in it, I wanted him to know exactly what her level was. She did fine for the class, but he started teaching the breast stroke during the second half, and I recognized that she didn’t have the foundation necessary to build on for this class. I looked at all the other classes in the pool and also recognized that she didn’t really fit into any of them, either. She is in between the levels that are being taught.



Looking at the schedule, I saw that private lessons were an option for a slightly higher fee. I’d already paid for the group lessons, and the difference in price wasn’t much at all after getting that out of the way. I asked after class if it would be possible to shift to private lessons for the remainder of the session, and it is. So starting tomorrow, Becca gets private lessons that will really help her. The lessons start a half hour later, but that actually will be easier for us to get to once I’m back to work next week. I am feeling much better about this, and I think Becca will enjoy the one-on-one attention, rather than having to wait her turn while 2-5 other kids are taking turns getting individual instruction.

We stopped by the grocery store for a couple things, then headed home. At the second and last gate on the property, we saw the vultures again. What actually caught my attention first, though, was the dark grey coyote trotting off and away from the sheep pasture. Then I spotted the vultures sitting on the posts at the gate, intently watching where the coyote had left.



My landlords have lost another sheep. This time, in broad daylight. They are planning now to move the last remaining sheep and the llama with her into the pen with their horses and goats. The fence around Salsa and her bucklings is tall and strong, and the locals say that the coyotes won’t mess with an electric fence, including my PermaNet fencing, so I hope that my goats will be okay once the sheep snacks are moved. Hunters are coming onto the property tomorrow, and may take care of part of the problem. The deer population is down this year, and the predators are simply looking for their food, but it is hard to lose livestock.

The source of the water leak on the property has been narrowed to between my landlords’ house and the tanks, so we hope they’ll be able to figure it out before too long.

Friday might be warm enough to go to the river with a picnic lunch. We will have to see how it goes. Saturday morning will be the farmer’s market, and late that afternoon and Sunday we’ll help Jessica and Cory move to their new house. I can’t believe the week is almost over.