The Land of Milk and Honey

If you read comments on my blog, you might have run across someone that is pushing me to be a bit more honest.

So, you are right, things here are not peaches and cream. I had wanted to attempt to concentrate on the positives for now. I hear it said that the universe gives back what you release into it. I figured I could at least try.  ~shrug~

My failures or trials, or whatever you want to call them, are my own. Things are very rough for us, and have been since we got here. We will make it through, eventually.

And to answer some of your questions, no, if it requires money it will not be made, replaced, repaired or built for at least the next year. If we can scrounge up materials, then yes. 

Basically you will be watching me can a bunch of green beans. The suspense is killing you, I know. But we will not be talking about the horrifically scary driveway that broke the swing bar of my truck, nor the fact I have no interior walls in my house, or the floor is caving in, nor will we idlly chat about babbysitting cows, or refrigeration, or the fact that I am temporarily back to wearing a brace. (Falling hurts by the bye). No, what we will talk about is garden mulching, 

pickle making, dehydrating with the sun, how to get blood stains out of clothes, cooking on a campfire in the rain, preparing for the winter months and Jellies! 

And we will be happy about it, darn it! Ha! If we can't find the simplest of joys and reasons to laugh, there is no use doing any of this.  

For my sanity and my Husband's welfare, we find the optimism, the positives, and cling to the hopes. It's really all we have right now. And our love. (Gag) 

If I mess up really big, I will be sure to get pictures and fill you in. Promise. 

Tax and consequence

I do learn from mistakes. I am not insane, though some may argue crazy, but insanity isn't one of my quirks. I also tend to accept the consequences of my actions. 

The shop is on a quarterly tax plan. Meaning every three months, I fill out a form for the State of Kentucky and pay what I owe. This is enlightening in many ways. I keep books, but hadn't paid real attention to how much we actually made. For the last three months, we were living on less than $75 a month. That is how much we had for food for five plus pets, gas and mortgage. We find ourselves in a frustrating loop. We must have the shop to make a living, but we can barely live. The shop has picked up in business, but it is too late.

Our planning was bad. We put trust in people that we shouldn't have. We lost the Neophyte Homestead on promises, we are unable to find second jobs, though we have applied as far away as Huntington, WV.  Now we face even more consequences.

I have failed. I apologize, but it is the truth. We are unable to survive here. (Financially)

I don't know what we do from here. But this blog is on hiatus until further notice. There are years upon years of knowledge, mistakes, recipes and how-tos if you look around. 

When we decide what happens, I will let you know. Right now I am in mourning, and not the best person to be around. I put on my big girl panties every morning to deal with the world. My blog is where I find solace, it has always been cathartic. But lately it has felt like I have had to hide some things that have been happening. That to open up as I have done in the past will bring about even more trouble, criticisms, and backlash.  

There are so many things I wish to share, not just to vent, but to remember when I finally am subdued by the brain damage and forget, so my boys know what truly went on when I can no longer recall, and so we can learn through my mistakes as I have always put forth. 

I know exactly what we did wrong, we didn't fully do our research, we didn't plan the move correctly, and we moved too soon. We allowed our excitement and love for the land to override logic. 

We tried. We tried our damnedest to make this work. We are drowning, and there is no life guard on duty.

I am asking for nothing. It gets exhausting being accused of trying to get things out of people every time I have bad news to share. Yet another reason I no longer feel comfortable sharing as much as I once did. Your good thoughts, positive vibes, well wishes and prayers do us a world of good.

Thank you.

First born in Kentucky

We have had our first lamb born at the new homestead.

If we can ever catch it, I will let you know the details. It looks like. . . A lamb.

If you have forgotten what my lambs look like, here is one born in Kansas.

The newest addition is a darker brown with white socks and tail, and a black belly. Or so it seems from a distance. 

Ah well, still a happy sign.

The reality of it.

I will agree that we were far from ready to deal with the worst winter in 20 years. The winter has taken it's toll on me. Emotionally I am rebounding, physically I am set back. No, not my knee. That gets stronger and I have seen more flexibility as time has worn on. There are days that someone brushing up against the skin makes me cringe, thousands of hot needles scratching the surface. Other days the muscle behind my knee is stiff and sore, making walking more difficult. I still can't run, but I can scurry with the best of them.

It's the weight loss that everyone is glad to see that is the problem. The truth is, I really don't eat. I am lucky to have a sandwich once a day. I could eat more, but I have three growing boys, they need the food more than I do. I, like so many moms out there, sacrifice a huge portion (if not all) of their meals to ensure the health and happiness of our families. I have gotten very good at hiding it from Husband. You are correct in the assumption that they don't know. It's not that they aren't paying attention, it's that they are use to me eating as I cook, or having a migraine that keeps me from eating. Though last night, Husband caught me not having any dinner, and basically forced me to have some of his. But he expends more energy than I, and he needs it. Yes, some days it makes me cranky, some days. I am more tired than I should be. But this is the reality of what I have to do. Take no pity, this is my choice.

Spring is encroaching on the holler however. The turkeys are returning and wild foods are starting to erupt. A garden is in the planning stages, and things will be back to normal soon.

The motorcycle shop has also seen an uptick of work. Apparently those we need to know; those that know everyone, and are liked by everybody, have been coming in. We make them happy, we get more business from their buddies. Husband has put applications in at a few other shops. They are very pleased to see him. Some even knew who he was. But they don't seem to believe that he is willing to take work for less than what the last shop paid him. He tries to point out that the shop that fired him paid him way less that the shop before and the shop after. But in their minds they see that large wage and I guess get uneasy. We just have to have faith in the shop.

I haven't had a job outside the home in 10 years. Makes finding something for me even harder. I work to keep the shop going, selling off many of the things we brought with us to stay above water. I will admit, we should have done things differently. But here we are, and I can only make the best of what I have.

The boys are growing like crazy! Small still loathes school; the teacher mainly. Both Medium and Large are on their second girlfriends now. And Husband had a birthday on Sunday. I had enough items to make some brownies for him. 

We trudge on. Waiting for that light that comes after the darkness fades. (Your care packages have been my sanity savers) We have our good days, and our bad. Most of the time we are happy (no matter the sacrifices) and in love. We remind each other the reason we came here. That the motorcycle wreck helped us reevaluate our lives. And that even though right now it seems we made a major mistake, that we have had it worse in our lives. And that we will make it the best. Sounds sappy I know, but hope is all I have right now.

Bloat in Lambs equals a terrifying experience

Bobbert began coughing, mucus bubbled from the side of his mouth. His back teeth made a grinding noise. Symptoms fitting that of chocking. His stomach not hard or distended.

With in moments he was struggling for breath and falling to the ground. Husband jumped into action, sticking his finger down Bobbert's mouth in attempts to dislodge whatever it is he was chocking on. Husband got bit for his efforts. Blood was drawn and Husband worries about becoming a weresheep now. But nothing blocking the lamb's airway.

His stomach still not showing signs of bloat. But I am now at a loss. Bobbert is at this point having seizure like symptoms, thrashing and struggling to baa in Husband's lap.

I have never dealt with bloat in any of my animals before. This was a new, and terrifying experience for us. However I do research, and suddenly was recalling some of the things I learned. I quickly drenched Bobbert with 1/4 tablespoon veggie oil and 1/2 teaspoon water. Followed by some watered down pepto. Husband yelled at me that I was drowning him. He of little faith! Suddenly Bobbert's heart rate was no longer race car levels, and standing with balance. Of course I get to be smug now.

All this happened in less than a five minute time frame. If I hadn't known what to do, Bobbert would have been dead within a few moments. Suffocating.

His breathing is no longer labored. He is standing and staring. For now he will be ok. But for us, this is yet another drama involving this little ram. We almost lost him a few days ago because of the formula we had for him. After a saltine and sugar water, his system was cleared of that poisonous swill and he was back to his normal self. And now the bloat. He will have a stricter diet for the next few days, reduced amounts of everything. And we will slowly increase it over the week. I should have paid a bit more attention, but after the formula debacle, he had stopped eating for almost 48 hours, only taking water. I was thrilled he was eating again. But it was too much too fast.

He might be the death of me.

Lesson for the neophyte 'steaders, do lots of research because you never know when you might need it. Don't wait until the last minute to google it.

Butchering with Wounded Knee

No worries, no butchering pics this round.

Being down for four months can really set you back. A quick update, I can bend my knee 95 degrees now. The things I did before, not including standing and walking, feel like I am physically doing them for the first time.

The bull calf wasn't that big. Yet it was Husband that had to swing the half over his shoulder. I have yet to even attempt a bag of feed. And it does make me feel bad, almost worthless at times. I am getting stronger, and doing more things as I feel comfortable with. Skinning the calf was troublesome as my squatting powers are a bit fatigued as of now. Today we broke down what usable beef there was. The temperatures got too warm to allow it to hang any longer.

The meat on his ribs were too bruised to be used. We did manage to salvage 14 lbs of hamburger. I woke this morning sore. It didn't take hours to deal with the meat, yet it feels like it had. I am a big whiner, aren't I? Don't answer that.

It is amazing though, well interesting, the changes you experience. Before, I was physically able to preform feats that are normally portrayed on tv by teen boys. Now. . . I had a impromptu race with an elderly woman, her and her walker beat me hands down! I will challenge her to a rematch soon.

As Weldrbrat said in comments, things will change for me. I am accepting that, but it doesn't stop from me pushing myself. I am stubbornly hardheaded. But back to baby bull.

We were unable to hang the meat for the full five days. Unfortunately that means that the meat was still a bit wet. It isn't too big of a problem, an annoyance and a bit messy, sloshy. Very slippery when trying to hold onto a strip of meat and cutting it from the bone. A few minutes in the freezer helps greatly when pushing it through the grinder. Plus with an electric grinder, it reduces the chances of "cooking" the meat. As the machines tend to warm up when in use. The meat will change to an awful grey color when heated up through an electric grinder. And will give it a microwaved cooked texture. I personally suggest avoiding that at all cost.

I weighed the meat out to two lbs bags, sucked the air out and sealed. Into the freezer with you! I have the liver, ground pork and pork fat thawed out and waiting for me today. Oh the things we can create. Wry grin.

There's blood on my brace

Yesterday Husband was sharpening the blades on the meat grinder, and we were all ready for the test run. I had this nice butt ready to be sausaged. I might never know what suddenly possessed him to go outside to the far side of the garage, but he was compelled half way through sausage making. It was a good thing he did.

He returned and informed me that the bull calf was down. He could only get the calf to respond with eye blinks and a small twitch of a front hoof. There was no fever or signs of disease, yet no visible trauma. After he informed me of that, my thought was Mama. We have had issues with Mama before. If a cow can be territorial, she is it. Our problems with her started with her not allowing others to eat. She attempted to starve out Murial when she first got here. We should have butchered her a while back.

We decided to go ahead and end the calf's life. Once we cut into him, we could see the injuries. He had bruising on his groin area, his stomach and side. His organs were clean and intact, no signs of trauma or disease. He was a healthy boy. But then I found it, his back had been broken.

Yes it ticked me off, and yes Mama is slated for butcher, she has been for a bit, but the weather hasn't cooperated with our plans.

You know how you feel after spending a winter doing little, and you go all crazy that first day in the garden, working so that the next morning you are super sore? I haven't stood that long in four months. My ankle is so sore, the back of my good knee is in knots, stretching my bad one causes spasming cramps. No, not a good time! But it is good for me, sigh.

Just another day at the Neophyte Homestead.

Never play Limbo with an electric fence

So, this girl walks into an electric fence and. . . Oh I forgot the punch line.

I was out watering the garden this morning, and decided to check the cattle tank. As I filled it, I noticed that we have another lamb. This little guy should be the last for the season.







But as I walked out to get a few pictures for you lamb lovers, I decided to test the electric fencing, with the top of my head. With how the previous owners set things up, there is no choice but to go above one of the six hundred gates they have here. I usually only have to duck a bit, but I was so intent on the little guy, or maybe I was in the mood to lose at a game of limbo, that the hot fence tapped the top of my head.

Guess what,


It's working.

I bit my tongue so hard I drew blood. I went to my knees faster than my brain could call me stupid. I might have a bald spot now. My eyes swam for a bit. But I didn't cry out. So I stayed on my idiotic knees and cooed and that cute little bugger like I meant to go down on my knees that fast. Just in case the neighbors saw. It's not like I don't give them enough to talk about already. Of course horse neighbor wife reads this through my Facebook feed, so there will be endless jocularity there.

Ugh, my head. Oh and if you have any fillings, I highly suggest you don't play limbo with a hot fence. It keeps them buzzing for a bit.

They shot Fritz! Those yellow bellied fairies shot Fritz!

Normally I would not hesitate to show you a war wound. But this time, this time I think I will pass. However I will gladly tell you about it. It's not that it is very gory, it's just in a spot that makes it difficult for me to capture the true essence of it.

I know many of you live vicariously through my words, and many of you had a romantic ideal of this life, until you met me. I still have dreams of romantic visions, I am a product of Little House on the Prairie. But sometimes silly little actions can have consequences and slap that dreaminess right out of your head.

Prepare yourself for the drama.

What a gorgeous day yesterday turned out to be. The temperature was in the mid 60's, the wind was a mere zephyr, and the new fruit bushes were planted. We have had to replace so much due to the extreme drought we have be dealing with for a full year, luckily this month has had our spirits reborn, as I type there is a pleasant, hypnotic pitter patter of steady rain falling on my cement roof. The sound reminds me of a medium sized fan running on high. At times it will pick up, fall faster and harder, not quite the frog strangler, but a torrent of a temper tantrum. As beautiful as the sound is, I am getting away from the impending drama at hand.

I retrieved an entire rear leg of pork from our refrigerator, as over the past week I have been slowly breaking down our dear Missy into more manageable cuts and sizes. And as I had earlier come to the conclusion that the saws-all was quite off limits to me while alone, I opted to debone the entire ham, breaking it down into more family of 5 appropriate pieces. The first ham I did beautifully with, the second rear, the one I chose to work with yesterday decided that it would seek a bit of revenge, or maybe it was determine to become a Virgina ham, or more possibly it was my haughtiness that caused the situation. We may very well never know, as the ham refuses to confess.

The leg was beautiful, laying there on my counter top. My knives cleaned and sharpened to my high expectations. The first slice into the flesh took little effort, and an outline began to form. I found the bone, and began to cut around it, the first side showing me what the finish product should look like. With it completed, it was time to flip it over and work on the more difficult side, the thick layer of tough skin and hefty fat. As I rolled the 30 plus lbs of leg over, my hand slid across the already cut underside, finding a willful bone. The palm of my hand was immediately on fire and throbs of incessive pain shot throughout my left arm. Without looking, I thrusted my hand into the bleached water, then under clean running water.

Next I proceeded to do the, I hate the world, you are all evil, I am in pain, dance. I am sure you have a variation of this dance and have preformed it more than once. As the dancing seemed to escalate, blood poured, oh how I wish that was dramatic exaggeration, from my palm mingling with the smaller amount oozing from my wrist. Soon Large walked in the door, and in appreciation of my dance, joined in with one of his own. However he was smiling, and tears burned with threatened eruption in my eyes. Luckily for the teen, he is smart enough to offer to take over the butchering while I waried myself out with my improv moshing. He ended up hacking up the first small ham.

I bandaged the wound and ignored it for the time being. I made sure that appropriate cleaning requirements took place first. And I woke this morning in much soreness. I believe I slept with a clinched fist. Removing the bandages, the wrist looks fine, the palm... I don't know how many of you have seen a large piercing needle. They are triangular shaped, and hollow. Now imagine that, not piercing clean through, but grazing the surface skin, almost to the meat. No flap of skin remains. And that is what my wound looks likes this fine rainy morning. Sore, but no infection is evident.

(the post title is a quote from an anime film, and is really talking about folk legend, nothing more. Since someone already guessed correctly to what movie the quote is from, if you are interested in knowing, the movie is Wizards>>>)

No foolin today

It's early evening as I write this to you. I am exhausted, sunburnt, and there could possibly be blood dried somewhere under the caked on mud. I am sitting under a rapidly leafing maple, trying to cool off from this absurdly summer day visiting us so early in April. I hear it told that we will see 60's in a day. An actual spring would be most welcome as I am tired of living in a famine time.

The farmers around me say they too are done with this struggled survival we have had to live in for a year now. Many will lose everything if more rain doesn't arrive soon.

Winston ( bull ) put on a show for good neighbor, enough to scare the scream out of him. I see good neighbor running through the field, yelling and Winston trying to get him to play. I told good neighbor not to chase him like that, and I got a scowl in return. Winston is by no means out to get you. He wants to play, he gets all excited and kicks his heels up in the air. His head swing is because they have a blind spot directly in front of them, he has to, to be able to see where someone is. I had to save good neighbor. Winston, my spoiled baby, bellowed as good neighbor walked away, then licked my face and waited to be scratched. I think he really hoped that good neighbor would have been his new playmate, but it was not to be.

I spent several hours yesterday, hot fencing the field. A quarter of a mile worth of wire later, I have a very upset Urth (cow) and a sun burn. Urth walked right up to the wire. She has seen it before, but not this shinny, brand new wire, and zapped her. She has stopped talking to me, for now.

Before I forget, Yart, your namesake (calf) has warmed up well to us. And now follows us around, bellowing, wanting to fist bump. ( her nose to our fist. She bumps we wait) no scratching yet however.

I sit here and begin to drift off. I have to stay awake however as I have more work to do before darkness swallows the yard.

We planted several trees, and propagated several apricot trees. Strawberry beds are done, and the garden is ready to be sowed. The onions were replanted and fenced in to keep the free rangers from pulling them up yet again.

I have dug, and fenced, been stuck in the mud and lost a shoe, I have tended to delicate plants, and been bitten by a chicken. Been rabbit kicked, and bum rushed, sunburned and calloused. Bee buzzed, tangled, smoked out, and pooped on. And I couldn't be happier that it's spring.

Rabbit mistake

Long story short

Took a doe to a buck

doe was larger than buck

doe killed buck

It has been brought to my attention

I was in a conversation with a long time friend, and she informed me that my masthead was a bit confusing the first time she saw it. And I come to find out that some find it disturbing. I will admit that I find that a bit funny. The reason being that every time I have tried to change the picture I get emails and comments (no matter what the post is about) to put the "does this goat make my butt look big" photo back up.

I always cave.

But I have realized (I am slow sometimes) that there are many new readers here since the last time I explained my masthead. Which a big WELCOME to all of you, has been tardy.

I have placed a link on the sidebar, that explains the picture.  Here it is for those that read via various feed readers >>> How to Sheer a Goat.

Yes Delilah is a goat, not a sheep.

And I leave the picture up as a reminder

Delilah's death>>>

Dora's (her sister) death>>>

A Malady of Melodrama

Husband got sick, I cared for him.
Small and Medium got sick, I cared for them.
I got sick, everyone left. Isn't that how it usually works?

If I wasn't such the white trash flatlander, the next accident wouldn't have happened, or is it if I wasn't such the white trash flatlander the accident could have been worse?

I run around barefoot all the time. Only putting boots on when I must. I have been this way since I was a child. The other day I was in the porch/bunker and felt a prick on the bottom of my foot. Felt like a sticker (long horn burr), but only just stuck. So I wiped the bottom of my foot off on the step, typically this will dislodge a precariously held sticker. But that didn't work, and the spot began to burn. Slowly, I could feel it burying itself into the bottom of my foot. Almost a perfect circle of physical pain. I sat down quickly and dug my fingernails into the spot, seeing nothing that would be doing this. I grabbed the Bactine spraying the spot and cooling it off. Turns out I had stepped on a hot ember that had jumped out of the fire as I had tossed on a log. First, good thing the floor is dirt, and second, my feet are so calloused that within a few hours no damage was detected. The callouses had saved me.

Yesterday I made an attempt to create a video post.  Bob Dole was up to no good and ran the calves into me. Of course he stood a few feet from me looking all innocent. I tried again, and Urth decided to be all affectionate, and lick the skin off my arm. And once across my cheek for good measure.

Death Becomes her

I now have a real tree in my house.





I know, many of you are like big deal. So you have this tiny tree in your house. However I am allergic to evergreens. All evergreens. And not the eyes are puffy watery, sinus owie,  skin break out in hives. No the last time there was a real tree in my house (can't believe I am saying this) 30 years ago, it was a OH MY GOODNESS!!!! SHE CAN'T BREATHE!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE'S ASPHYXIATING ON HER OWN VOMIT!!!!!!!!!! CALL AN AMBULANCE!!! Spend Christmas in a hospital with a throat swollen shut, deathly kind of allergic.

Honestly I have felt weirdly bad about the boys not having a real tree. Don't ask me why, it just isn't rational. I talked with Husband. He too has never had a real tree. He has always had the $38 Blue Light Special. And it has been years since I have even attempted to be in a room with one. So we decided to try a small potted tree.

I have no ornaments that will fit on it. The topper is a candy cane topper that my best friend's mother in 3rd grade made me.

Medium is now working on some origami ones to put on it.

I am hoping I have outgrown the deathly allergic, and maybe a small 2 ft tree will make a difference (vs the 7ft one as a child). Wish me luck!

Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you

We managed to get a hold of 1,400 lbs bales of Milo!

It's a Thanksgiving miracle.

I called horse neighbor's hay guy. All he had was Milo. It was tested, nitrate levels well under the safety requirements, and the protein content at 10%.  And it was closer to a normal price than anything else I can find. Now I don't have to go out of State.

Happy dance!

We hurried over there to pick up our 3 bales (but ordered enough to make it through the winter), as that is all we can manage to drag behind us, this morning. We got loaded up and started to leave. And would you know it, I can't do anything without some type of adventure.

The rubber popped off the back wheel of the trailer. We were now stuck out in the middle of nowehere Kansas. Hay guy said that after he unloaded his 2 semi-truck loads at the co-op, he would run by his house and come back with a compressor.

Over an hour later, and Medium begging to go and catch field mice to eat, hay guy arrives. His compressor wouldn't start so we had to wait for his buddy. ~sigh~  20 minutes later, and a tire hissing from where a nail is stuck in it, we were on the road. Made it home fine.

Unloaded one bale out in the field. Winston the bull was so overcome in joy that he bucked and spun in the air as he bellowed. What a sight.

But now I am several hours behind on my pie making.

Happy Turkey Day!!!

Let's talk about Thankfulness

My family

 If whites didn't come to this country, and my Blackfoot family never met my Irish family, and then my other Irish family never meet my Blackfoot/Irish family, I wouldn't be here. So I am Thankful. If Husband's Scottish/English/German family never met his Cherokee family, we wouldn't have our 3 wonderful mutts. (Large is so flippin proud to be a mutt, it cracks me up)

I am Thankful that my Irish families immigrated here, both in the late 1800's and again in the 1960's. I am thankful for my dual citizenship (just in case I need to use it, giggle). I am thankful for my family, and the life we have created. I am thankful for my livestock and my garden.

There are so may things to be thankful for, yet we always get smacked with the things we don't want. And we harp and we dwell. I know I can get scared, depressed and gritchy.  I try hard not to, but it can get overwhelming.

I am really not that worried about Thanksgiving dinner. Even though my previous post made it seem that way. It was a distraction from my real worries, the hay problem.

Life is completely and utterly unfair. I know that, we all know that. But we strive to make the best of it. And I am thankful for that. Otherwise we would all be miserable lumps. And who really wants to be angry and sad all the time? If you can't find the joys in the little things, you will never find joy. And lately that has been a struggle for me.

I am thankful it was only a mild stroke, and that the big one didn't happen as they had warned me.

 I am thankful that Husband decided to be a motorcycle mechanic rather than a surgeon. Of course he will wonder out loud about what ifs. . . but he loves what he does.

I am thankful that I spent so many years homeless.  Without that I might not ever pushed myself, and appreciate what I have now. And thankful for those like Kris

I am thankful that I got to spend 30 days with my first son.

I know many women never get that much. He taught me to be strong. He taught me that it wasn't just about me. And he taught my friends that people of different religions, faiths, and God(s) can be in the same room, and share each other's prayers with respect. His NICU basket looked like an tribute to world religions. And the Grateful Dead. His name is Getty and my Father keeps his company.






I am thankful that I have three healthy hellions.  They are trying to teach me patience.

I am thankful to be given the opportunity to share all this with you.  And thankful that you have taken the time to read it.

I am thankful that I have stories, loves and laughter to share.

Guess I just needed to remind myself that even when things go bad, there is happiness and thankfulness in it.

(I really did mean for this post to be a discussion on thankfulness. But it took on something different.)

Bob Dole is evil, and other tidbits

Hope every one had a good Veterans Day. I managed to do a few things in thanks and appreciation for our Veterans. I did neglect to Thank my Uncle, my older brother, and my father. Thank you for your service.


And to all my readers that are currently enlisted or have already served. Thank you!


And to my readers with enlisted family members, thank you for your sacrifices.

And that brings me to why Bob Dole is evil.

Not really, but it was the best transition I could muster up.

Pastor Mike arrived earlier this morning for X. Now X has been jumping fences to be with the herd, that meant that this morning I had to separate him out best I could. Stupid me for neglecting to train the bulls to a feed bucket. They know the sounds and will come running, however I can not lead them individually with the bucket. The girls will fight over it, but not the boys.  Time to do a bit of trickery.

Bob Dole is a sneaking one. He was out in the field last I saw. But I felt him in my leg a few seconds later. Out of nowhere he ups and rams my leg, trying to get me to drop the bucket. Didn't matter that there was corn just a few feet from him. Bam!, into the side of my lower thigh just above the knee. I jerk back from the impact, my opposite hip ends up on X horn. I growled. Bob Dole gave me the I am just a sweet innocent ram look, then turned around to eat the feed. I had managed to hold onto the bucket. So there Bob Dole!

I ended up shoving X out the gate without anyone else escaping.  Pastor Mike came out, we borrowed Horse Neighbors tractors (as ours doesn't like lifting that much weight) and soon they were off. I really do like Pastor Mike. Always a good word, though sometimes a funny sarcastic sentence. 

Now I have this nice bruise that I can tell everyone a good story, about how Bob Dole beat me up and I threatened to eat him. 

Horse neighbor's farrier gave me a good line on bales. Just waiting for a call back from them, fingers crossed.

Field peas (beans) did strangely wonderful this year. I have a good amount. I do hope you are all ready for some more recipes. Because this next week I should have a bunch of them.

Congrats to Fancy Horse, she has won the digital scrapbook software!!! Small pulled your name. I will email you with your code to download it shortly. I am having fun with it.

Hope everyone is in a good mood. I have a lot to be thankful for this season and am trying ever so hard to dwell on those thing.

Speaking of cows

The butcher workshop is going to be postponed due to the 63F degrees we will be having Monday. Much too warm to butcher. I will email and text those that were coming out with the new date asap.

Husband and I drove almost an hour yesterday to pick up our hay.

Now that' a bit scary. good thing Ma ain't on top with a rocking chair.

And that my friend is it. That is all the hay we have. Apparently $9 a bale is a good deal, I thought I was going to pass out when I heard that.  We paid $5 for these, normally we would pay $2.50. Grain is actually cheaper. I went yesterday and bought enough grain to supplement the hay. I have never grained them before, only given them cookies during milking. Hopefully this doesn't mess up their training, but I have no other choice. Large round bales of prairie hay are going for almost $200 a bale now. This is ridiculous. 1 cow use to pay for a year's worth of feed, now it buys 2 weeks worth.

Sorry, I am gritching.

As winter gets worse, this might be the end of the homestead livestock. Not sure what else I can sacrifice to feed the cattle. Christmas isn't a big deal, as we spend very little and trying to spend even less. Luckily the boys are old enough to understand that we can't purchase much for them, most everything will be handmade out of used materials that are here on the stead. There will be some lessons learned this Christmas. Husband was able to barter for something cool for Large, he is always on the look out for things like that. So it isn't going to be all bad. Someone gave me some gift certificates, and I will use those for the boys as well. Bugger. . . this doesn't matter, I didn't mean to go off in another direction. Sometimes worries get in the way.

I am starting to wonder if  trying to hold on to them is worth it. Even if it rains in the spring, and our breeders will be worth even more than this year, I still won't be able to recoup this year's losses. All our winter feed money for the next 3 years has gone to feed them through the summer and this fall. ugh! ok I guess I need to stop. Happy thoughts?

Happy. . . thoughts. . . happy. . . thoughts. . . ummmm. . .

I got nothing.

Oh wait! As you can see in the above pics, I have a running and legal truck again! It's been almost 2 years since I had it, but there ya go.

Husband is almost done with his project, so I will be sharing that with you soon. Noodle making begins in a couple days, as does pie's and other storage foods.

Bacon Soap. I plan on making bacon flavored soap. Bacon makes everything better.

Bad Dog Neighbor and I am a bad dog owner

This little polar bear is a week old.

We have 7 of them.

Sprocket is the mother, She is a great guardian dog for being  blue tick hound and German Shepard.

The father is either the Malamute we saw once or the bad dog neighbors hanging tree dogs.  We had thought we had fixed all the holes that those other dogs had dug up under the fence. In fact we added another two feet of dirt on top of the fence line, burying part of it. 

I am the bad dog owner because we have yet to get Sprocket fix. 

I think that the dogs are getting in good neighbor's field and then squeezing through the cattle gate. I need to assess it, as the coyotes are getting desperate. With the drought, this summer has been bad for small prey. Deer, rabbits, and birds have been dieing off because of the lack of water. The Arkansas river has strips of islands through it. Coyotes are moving up from the river area.There has been a report of coyotes attacking a horse a few miles from here. And I have been getting phone calls about coyotes encroaching into places that in the past 10 years they have never been spotted. They are going after the easy pickin' chickens.

Before snow falls (last nigh was our first snow fall, huge wet flakes, but they melted) I need to go out and find any place anything can get through, and make sure all the animals are secure. The sheep will be up front in the "yard". The cattle and their calves should be safe out of the field and in the barn yard. All the free range chickens will be butchered, I just have to make sure the layers are safe and the rabbits.

Winter will be rather rough for the coyotes.

Uma has been sold.

First I would like to welcome to the neophyte readers. 10 new guests decided to join us last week. Welcome! And those of you that have been coerced over by Kymber, no worries, I got your back.

The man that had bought Donkey and the other lamb, had expressed interest in purchasing one of my cows. However he didn't have a trailer. And because of the farm deal falling through, we neglected to purchase one ourselves. We have no reason to move them off property. So he had to pass, or so I thought. He showed up late afternoon yesterday with a trailer.

No warning, so Uma (the only butchering one I have up for sale) was not separated from the herd. Needless to say this showing up without warning didn't make me very happy. Luckily for him, he didn't attempt to haggle with me at that moment. Earlier in the week he had asked if I was willing to drop the price, I told him No. I could get more money from the meat, and besides she is already cheaper than papered animals. (even though she is papered)

So the attempt was on to get Uma loaded up in their trailer.

First off there was a language barrier with his younger helper. Usually this isn't much of a problem because they tend to allow me to do all the work. As I am unable to tell them exactly how we need to do something, and they tend not to want to get in the way. Sorry every one, I do not know Spanish, Greek or Arabic. Maybe I should learn a few phrases like Stop , and, let me do it! Might make things easier. But this young un was ambitious, and ended tripping me up, literally. And because they were confused on which cow it was, they ended up roping Urth. And she is so passive she had allowed it. Luckily Husband was able to step in a stop that. Urth has the personality that I want to keep bred into my milking staff. Uma doesn't. She is mean and will not allow the others to eat. She learned it by watching her mother.

Husband was able to wrestle Uma to the ground, and was disappointed in me for not getting it on film. I told him we could do it again with one of the bulls, make it look all dramatic and dangerous to show all his motorcycle clients.  He wasn't going for it.

We lead and dragged her as far as we could get her. Then I had to use the cattle prod. I hate using it, but it is the most humane thing available to move a stubborn cow.  The voltage is lower than the stun guns used in self defense. A lot lower. I know because I have been shocked by both, and prefer the buzz and surprise of the cattle prod.  The cattle prod will get me moving, the stun gun, well stuns me and makes me want to fall to the ground in a fetal position crying. So I used it on Uma. It moved her, but not onto the platform of the trailer.

Now I really don't have to tell you this story. I realize there are many out there that think this is cruel. But here is the cruel part of the story. The man that was purchasing Uma, told me to move away, then he proceeded to hit her with a board!  I almost shocked him in the neck with the cattle prod. I yelled stop at him. And told him that this was better, the prod. Safer and not painful only shocking (surprising). We got her in, and I gave her a big scoop of cookies to calm her.

He paid full price for her. The younger helper asked me a few questions in very broken English. Luckily I have dealt with it enough that I could get the gist of what he was asking. He was interested in the cattle prod, as he has never seen one before. I take it that it is customary for them to hit their cattle with boards.  And then they were off.

Later that night I felt dreadful. Guess I had second thoughts about selling her to whom I had sold her to. Now it is really hard sometimes to write about ones fears without coming off as a bigot. But allow us to call it media and documentary induced paranoia, as most my thoughts came from scenes I have seen on the tv, add to the fact that I watched him beat her with a board, and viola! bad thoughts of tortured animals.

I could only hope that they killed her quickly.