Snow day...

I slept in a bit, until 6:30. When I looked outside the early light of dawn showed me that the promised 6 or more inches of snow had, indeed, arrived while I slumbered. This topped the 10 or so inches we received two days before. My day stretched before me, a blank canvas. My only solid plans were that friends were coming for supper around 5:30 PM. I thought to myself, "Hmm. I can snuggle up by the fire and write today.I'll make hot cocoa. It will be cozy and serene." With that delicious thought in mind I dressed up in boots, hat, warm gloves, heavy coat and a neck cowl and hauling 40 or so pounds of water went out to do chores.

First I carried water to the poultry. Then I topped off their food container and tossed them sunflower seeds and cracked corn to snack on. Next I carried water and hay to the horse and goats. I then had to encourage the goats out of their cozy shed and out into the deep snow to walk across the yard to where they are milked in our garage. Once they were milked I carried the milk inside, strained it, and let all the dogs, (including one that is visiting) outside. Then the dogs got snacks and I was back outside, carrying more hay and more water, shoveling any wet or soiled shavings out of the shed, gathering eggs from the coop. Our neighbor stopped by and plowed out the end of our driveway where the town plows leave huge embankments of heavy, wet, salty snow. He came in for a cup of coffee and a sweet chat, then was on his way to help someone else out. My husband and I went outside with shovels and cleared the steps to the driveway and the yard. We shoveled the little path, and shoveled around where the cars park and spots the plow could not reach. We cleared our vehicles of snow, and shoveled out the bed of my truck. Then we gathered up our trash and recycling and headed out to the transfer station. After that we swung by the farm where I buy hay and filled the bed of my truck with stout, fragrant bales redolent with the scent of summer. When we got home we unloaded the hay, and I checked on all the livestock (wading through knee-deep snow!) and gave everyone a snack. At 12:30 those chores were done and I sat to have my cozy day. Knowing that very soon I'll need to hop up and prepare the meal for friends, tidy the house and ... take care of all the animals again!

The snow is beautiful as it falls, and it blankets the world around me in unbroken perfection. But it does make for more work, and not so much time to drink cocoa and write!

After Christmas happenings...

Sister Deb came to visit... and snuggle puppies. The pups are growing, filling out and becoming more active. They are achingly cute.

The goats got coats for Christmas... and since we had a Nor'Easter that deposited about a foot of snow here and the temperatures have been in the single digits, this is a good thing. They also got home made treats from a friend, and they ADORE them. I am going to have to beg her for the recipe, because no other treats have ever had quite this sort of enthusiastic reaction.

I've been bird sitting this character for about 10 days. His name is Woody and he is an Eclectus Parrot. He has an expansive vocabulary, and has been a well loved pet for 25 years. He says things like, "Good BOY!" "Hickory Dickory Dock" "Come to Mama" "Where's the ball?" (He loves his toy balls!) He has been a pleasant companion while here, except for occasional bouts of ear piercing screams. He goes home today, but will hopefully come visit again when his owner travels next. I've had a few lazy days off, and have a few more before I return to work. Treasured, peaceful days with no agenda. Bliss!

Angst free Christmas...

Smooch was very excited to find what Santa left him in his stocking (Balls! He is mad over balls!) We very much missed Lilly, our Boxer this year. She was so smart that when we hung the stockings up in early December she would check them EVERY DAY. On Christmas morning when she found them filled with toys and goodies she would sit very still below them, staring up and wiggling her stubby tail as hard as she could. That dog understood and appreciated the miracle of Santa Claus!

Our daughter occasionally borrows our cameras and proves to have a very good eye. She takes wonderful, intuitive photographs. She was delighted to find a camera of her own under the tree.

Poppy pug found her 13th (or is it 14th?) Christmas to be a bit of a bore. Same old same old... people giving her things, making sure she had a wonderful day full of treats. Our day was peaceful. Punctuated by good food, good will, generous and thoughtful giving. The best thing about Christmas with our little family is that there is no angst. Just pleasant peacefulness. It is how we like it.

Jingling all the way...

Our daughter is home for the holiday and we had a wonderful Christmas eve together. We made two kinds of yeast bread, tidied the house, watched Christmas movies and baked sugar cookies. Then I tossed said daughter up on Chanel the pony. Chanel had her new wind bells on, and she jingled sweetly as we walked up to our sweet neighbors house and dropped off a box of goodies. We sang "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" in the gathering dusk. Our neighbor said she teared up a little to see us there. (Or maybe it was our singing?) My daughter giggled,"Well, we are making a memory." A happy one, I think!

Growing...

The puppies are 5 days old now, and growing. They make adorable little sounds and are so cute we spend way too much time just looking at them. You would, too.

Small miracles and a cup of kindness...

On December 19th, after a long and restless day, Flirt followed me as I did my evening chores and was quite insistent that I settle somewhere. She was ready to have her puppies, and she wanted to be very near me. I made a sandwich instead of cooking supper, put on my comfy clothes, grabbed a stack of towels and hit the sofa. Flirt snuggled in and napped for about an hour, then arranged herself on my towel covered lap with a lot of panting and nest making action. Then she began to push, her little rear legs bracing against my leg. Very soon the ageless miracle occurred, a tiny new life emerged from her body. The pup was encased in a little form fitting sack. Flirt licked and nibbled and in seconds had the puppy free. I had to avert my eyes as she ingested the afterbirth and used her razor sharp teeth to nip the umbilical cord oh-so-close to the wee babies body. Within seconds the pup,a girl, not much longer than my finger, had found her way to her mama's belly and was nursing with gusto. After a rest of about 20 minutes, another pup was delivered.

This one a boy. Flirt repeated her deft clean up action and I took the chance to grab a photo of the wee things while the third and final puppy, another girl, emerged. All three puppies are quite sturdy despite their size, and vigorous. They are all eating well and have grown and filled out noticeably in the very brief time they have been alive. Flirt is a dedicated mother. I have to force her away from her pups to take care of bathroom needs and eat and drink. She keeps them well polished and warm, and has a look of glowing bliss as she snuggles up with her babes. Though the past few weeks have been rife with horrible news around our country, and personal loss as well, the addition of these sweet, innocent puppies is a welcome miracle in our lives.

And this... this is a cup of kindness! I have been working very hard to NOT get a cold, swilling Aireborn every few hours and thinking very healthy thoughts. My friend Carol stopped by my house today to pick up something I had left for her. She called me and said, "I left you some homemade chicken soup for your cold." This was the most welcome of surprises! I came home in an icy downpour and got drenched taking care of the animals. When I came inside, dripping wet, I put the soup on the stove before I changed to dry clothes. And soon I was snuggled up with a cup of kindness that warmed me in a variety of ways.

December snow...

I love snow. Particularly in December. That whole "white Christmas" thing makes me undeniably happy. This snow is nice because it is quite cold out, so it is light and fluffy, easy to shovel!

The poor chickens don't like the snow, no matter what month it arrives. They huddle about dejectedly in the coop. This one ventured out, hated it, perched on the gate and stayed put until I scooped her up and carried her "home."

I am listening to Christmas Classics on Pandora,something I have very much enjoyed this season, and baking sugar cookies while the snow comes down. I heard someone outside and looked out to see a stranger plowing my driveway. I am not sure if they were confused or if they were practicing a random act of kindness, but I am most grateful!

Before the sun sets I'll go out and fill the livestock water buckets, top off the wild bird feeders and make sure everyone is snug and well fed. Then I plan to finish off the day by wrapping some presents. December snow days agree with me.

Feeling the love...

A man I went to college with recently put the following post on his Facebook page: "Tell ya what. If you ever forget how much you're loved, just start unpacking all those Christmas ornaments people've given you over the years. Oh my God. Life is good." And so it is. My tree was semi-naked for about a week. I had lights on it, and a few of the crocheted snowflakes pictured in the previous post. It was so simple, so pretty, I nearly left it that way. But I was rummaging through a box of ornaments looking for one I wanted to attach to a wreath I was making, and the memories began to scroll through my brain like one of those grainy 1950's home movies. There are a handful of decorations from my childhood,one from my long ago boyfriends grandparents,a few from college friends who have long lost contact with, a small box full from our first married Christmas. Then the "babies first Christmas" ornament, a wee bassinet with a blond baby in it that was gifted to my by sister Deb when our daughter was born. The ones from customers whose dogs I groomed nearly 30 years ago,(and still remember!) ones from neighbors at various places we have lived. The hand made ones from my precious friend Betty Sheetz Rohrbacher made me stop what I was doing to go get a tissue. She died too young and I miss her too much. There are hand painted kitties made by my niece, and a coffee filter angel created by my daughter in Montessori school. My favorites are hand crafted, some by new friends here in Maine. So, my very simply decorated tree is now a jumble of ornaments gifted over the span of 3 decades. It is a glowing reminder that I have been well loved, and that yes, life is so good.

Repurposing and stuff...

I like old stuff. I like to use old stuff in new ways. At a junk store I unearthed a box of prisms that once decorated a chandelier or something similar. Now they decorate my Christmas tree. They reflect the little lights so sweetly.

I delight in unwrapping the ornaments tucked away all year. I bought these crocheted snowflakes many, many years ago. They look so pretty on the green boughs. This year I am decorating the tree slowly. Lights and a few ornaments up last weekend. I'll finish up this weekend. I've never done this before, but it feels nice, to stretch out the pleasure and the beauty.

And the world didn't stop...

My good friend and co worker Beth died last week. She was fine on Tuesday. We chatted about Christmas, shared some laughs like we did every day, and as I left work I saw her run to her waiting husbands truck. She flashed me a huge smile and gave a big wave. And that was the last time I saw her. She never woke up Wednesday morning. None of us were ready to say goodbye. Beth was smart, funny and wickedly creative. Her patience was epic. She left a lot of heart broken people (and pets!) behind. I should be able to write something better about her. Something memorable. But I am just too sad. The thing I find the hardest, and have since my grandmother Waters died when I was 5, is that a very important person can die and the world doesn't even slow down a little. The sun keeps rising and setting, chores still demand attention, meals must be cooked. It has always seemed to me that there should be some sort of cosmic pause. Some kind of global recognition that a momentous thing has happened. A good heart has stopped beating and a huge void has been created. But that is not how it works, of course. The world does not stop. But I still think it should.

The Parting of the Pigs...

It is with mixed sorrow and relief that I tell you the pigs have gone off to "freezer camp." I miss them. When I go out to the pasture I look down to where their large pen was and am startled not to see their dark, hulking forms. I listen for their companionable grunting to each other and only hear the wind over the winter grass. I would have told you that I could never, EVER raise an animal and then have it butchered. I've loved animals all my life, and could not imagine becoming attached to one, then eating it. But my perspectives have changed. Much of this is due to the influence of my friend Marion. She got me to thinking about raising animals for food one day while we were riding our horses together. I may have blogged this before, but will repeat this bit. Marion raises wonderful beef cattle. She loves her cows, takes excellent care of them, and enjoys having them. I told her I didn't understand how she could see a calf be born, all innocence, big eyes and wobbly legs, then know it as it grew, then eat it. She is German and precise in both her actions and dialog. She simply said, "I know my animals have had a wonderful life, with just one bad day." When one looks at the food system in our country, it is clear that most of the animals that end up in tidy packages at the grocery store did NOT live a wonderful life. Marion's words got me to thinking. This was all several years ago. Since that time I have raised chickens, lambs and now pigs for our table.

I can tell you this. It is an awesome responsibility to raise livestock for food. I have spent hours reading up on the proper care and feeding of these animals. I have been up at dawn carrying food and hauling water in the dark of evening, and we have spent more money than I really care to think about to provide proper food and housing for each critter on the property. I take great pains to make sure that their physical, social and nutritional needs are met, and that the short lives they have are happy. I also take pains to make sure their end is swift and humane. And when I sit down to a meal that originated from here on my tiny farm, there is a reverence, respect and gratitude for the food that I never felt when I bought it at the local market. And if you are curious, I will tell you that home-raised chicken, lamb, beef and pork do taste different from any you ever bought at the grocery store. The flavors are intensified somehow, the texture more firm. The experts tell us it is better for us, too.

The relief I mentioned in the first line of this post? Getting the pigs to the butcher was a bit stressful. Marion kindly brought her livestock trailer to our house several days beforehand. She parked it in the pigs pasture, so they could get used to the look and smell of it. The plan was that I would feed and water then in the trailer, so it was not a scary thing. The girl pig hopped on moments after it was parked, eager to explore a new place. The boy pig was wary. I fed them there, and if he hopped on I never saw it, until the day before they were to take the "big ride." Then he clambered up and ate his breakfast, and I figured we were home free. But that night he refused to go in for his supper. I spent a sleepless night fretting and worrying. If he would not get on in the morning we'd have a problem. He was too big to muscle, and one reserves a butcher date months in advance. Besides, my friend and her trailer were reserved for this specific date, I didn't want to inconvenience her further. To my delight the boy pig did hop on, after a few heart stopping moments. But then there was an episode of truck and trailer being mired in the mud. Mud! In December! In Maine! It is practically unheard of. But in the end the pigs rode calmly, unloaded easily and didn't seem to be the slightest bit upset. This weekend we'll bring home boxes of home raised pork and try to fit it in our freezers, which are already crammed with beef, chickens, ducks and lamb. And I will mix in some feelings of pride and gratitude to go with my sorrow.

Imperfections...

One of the things I like to do to decorate our home is to fill antique bottles with flowers and put them all over the place. I place them on random window sills, in the bathroom, on the table, in the hall, wherever strikes my fancy. In the summer I use wild flowers that I pick, in the winter I buy roses or simple mixed bouquets from the grocery store. I get a lot of mileage out of flowers this way, and it makes me smile to see them all over the house. When my husband was going to the grocery store a few days ago I asked him to please bring me some red carnations. I like carnations because they last a long time, and are simple and cheerful. I wanted red because I thought they would be nice and Christmas-y. My sweet husband did as I asked and brought me a big bunch of happy carnations. Pink ones. My first thought was that pink was NOT a Christmas color, and I was a bit chagrined. But I gathered up my bottles, went out to the woods and cut some pine boughs, and set about to arranging the little bouquets. They looked very pretty when I arranged them, and I got to laughing at myself... I almost got stuck in "perfect" mode. My pink carnations are not what I had in mind, but they are just lovely and I am enjoying them so much. I am also enjoying the lesson that things don't have to be "perfect" to be wonderful. A light, fine snow came down all day on Saturday. It would have been the perfect day to go pick out our Christmas tree. But I worked, so that was out! Sunday, as we went to our favorite place to pick out our tree, a cold rain was drizzling down.

The experience would have been so much more picturesque if it were snowing, but we had fun despite the lack of "perfect" tree buying weather.

The little sign on the window was perfect though... I love to live in a place where this is possible. I wish for you some lovely imperfections, too.

And then we gave thanks...

Chris loves to have what he calls "a gracious plenty" for our guests. Every year he sets up a bar that makes people say, "WOW."

I took a break from preparing a "gracious plenty" of food to enjoy a mimosa. Flirt joined me for a snuggle. And then company began to arrive...

Including these two characters, whom I refer to as "my hideously unattractive nieces."

And we dined. The food was great, if I do say so myself. My sister Deb and I do most of the prep work and we are a good team in the kitchen. We say to each other, "We have this down to a fine science!" And we do. Of course, lots of people contribute to the meal, and as the "kids" get older they help more and more. Who knew they'd grow to be such good cooks?

There was a highlight to the evening, too. Daughter Rachel proposed that we go around the table and everyone state what they were thankful for. When we got to the last two people, niece Aimee and her beloved Tim stood up and came to the end of the table where I was sitting. They said what they were thankful for and then...

The both dropped to one knee and in unison said, "Aunt Daryl, will you marry us?" I didn't quite know what they meant... until they explained that they, literally, wanted me to MARRY them. As in, perform the wedding ceremony. Well, how delighted could one aunt be? (The answer to this question is "pretty darn delighted!")

After supper there was more laughter and conversation. And pie. So much to give thanks for.

Peaceful kingdom...

I glanced out my window this afternoon and what I saw made me smile. In the foreground; Clara bunny and one of the Silver Laced Wyandotte hens were sunning companionably. In the shed, Chanel the pony, Nova and Luna goat all were enjoying the warmth of the day. I've never seen them all lay down together like that. I was working hard and wished I could go out and hang with them, it looked quite relaxing!

Thanksgiving beginnings...

Traditionally I take the day off on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. I spend the day in my cozy house cooking, listening to pretty music, and getting ready for the feast. When I got home from work tonight (Tuesday) I decided there were a few things I could get started on early. So, I baked a rum cake (they are actually better if they have a couple of days to sit and mellow before they are eaten)and a pan of corn bread (for the dressing... not too fresh is best.)

I snuggled three loaves of whole wheat bread up near the wood stove to rise. I make this bread often so it is not particularly "special" to us, but guests seem to really like it.

And while I was doing all that I made a huge vat of stock with turkey, onions, celery, carrots, garlic, pepper and a couple of cloves. It smells amazing and will made our dressing and gravy extra delicious. You might note something not very Thankgiving-y there by the stove. Lobsters! A co-worker of my husbands brought him 4 lobsters today. So in the midst of preparing for this most fallish of feasts, I also boiled up some summery lobsters. Now I am enjoying mine with a glass of wine while I settle in and gear up for lots more cooking tomorrow.

Milking goats...

My daughter came to visit last weekend. She has been working on cleaning/organizing her old room. Most traces of her are gone... (unless you open the closet, where the things she wants to keep are neatly stored and stacked in plastic bins.) It is odd to look in there... but I digress. That is a topic for another post entirely. While she was home she and I prepared supper (home made taco soup) then it was time for me to milk the goats. She came out with me, so we could chat while I milked. I got the milk station set up, then was planning on showing off. I thought I would call the goats, and my daughter could see how they obediently run to me when I call them. I was prepared to holler out the names of the goats. "Luna! Nova!" I filled my lungs with air, opened the door... and there they were, inches away from me. Two little white faces, 4 intelligent eyes. "It is time. We KNOW already! Let's get to it." I admit to feeling a bit deflated. The goats are milked at 6 AM and 6 PM. They know the time, though they don't wear watches. And they know the order of things. Luna first. Nova does not push or shove, she stands respectfully as Luna and I enter the garage. Luna leaps nimbly up on the milk stand, and puts her head through the stanchion. She dines on alfalfa pellets (high in protein and calcium) and dairy pellets.Sometimes I add slivered carrots or raisins or other treats. Luna stands very still while I wash her udder, and milk a quart of rich milk from her teats. When her udder is empty I release her, give her a lot of pats, then watch as she nimbly turns and exits the building. Next, Nova shoulders in, hops up on the stand and the procedure is repeated. I thank them for the milk, fill their hay feeder, and go about my day. But this interlude with the goats? It is a bit of magic. My sister recently reminded me that I loved the movie Heidi when I was a child. She told me that I was particularly fond of the parts of the movie that involved goats. This fascinates me. Please Note: This photo shows me milking into a not-so-clean rubber bucket. This milk is destined to be be fed to the pigs. When I milk for humans I use an immaculate seamless stainless steel bucket and a cleaner technique. The pigs just don't care.

Peace and contentment...

One of the joys in my life is that I write articles for magazines. I love the process of writing and the opportunity to (hopefully) teach and entertain others. The actual process of writing is both exhilarating and exhausting, and every article takes much longer for me to wrestle out of my brain and turn into an actual, readable piece than I expect it will. Today I had a deadline for a new editor, and there was a lack of communication that made getting the article done rather frustrating. When I was finally finished and the thing was sent, I felt out of sorts. I have a long list of things I need to do before the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday, and had planned to work on that list this afternoon, but I couldn't manage to get myself motivated and moving. It was a beautiful day, unseasonably warm and sunny. I took myself outside to do some little projects there, and before I knew it I had a brush in my hand and was brushing the goats.

The goats enjoy this, and within moments I was feeling calmer. Next I eyeballed my awfully muddy horse and I began to brush her as she moseyed around the pasture. The goats followed along and I took turns brushing each animal. After a while I plunked myself down at our picnic table. Chanel (the horse) came over and stood in front of me. I ran the brush down the underside of her neck and over her chest. Her lower lip quivered, a sure sign she was enjoying the attention. She inched her way closer and closer to me, until her front legs were touching my knees. She alternately rested her chin on top of my head, or moved her velvety lips down the side of my face to my neck, where she would inhale deeply, then blow warm, moist air against me. The goats both nosed in, leaning on me, leaning on the horse. I petted them, ran the brush over their bodies, scratched their favorite places. The chickens were scritching around and making contented sounds, the dogs were soaking up the sun on the deck. It was peaceful. I was content.

And times like these are what makes leaping out of bed in the dark to milk the goats, haul water in the cold,and pull hay out of my hair from time to time worthwhile. These animals give me so much joy.

Obama the unwanted rooster...

If you are a regular reader of this blog you might have noted that my friend Marion is often involved in escapades involving animals. Especially livestock. One might call her an instigator, or an enabler. Well, she's done it again. She had a very pretty little rooster that she didn't need, and she talked me into adding him to my flock, even though I had previously sworn off roosters altogether. You see, one does not need a rooster to have chickens that lay eggs, and in the past my roosters have all decided that I am something that needs killing. No matter that I keep their coop clean and warm, their food pan filled to the brim with the best chicken feed money can buy, and several pans of cool, clean water out so that they are never thirsty, one by one each rooster I've had has developed a keen hatred of me. They fly at me with their sharp spurs. If you think being attacked by a bird is no big deal, I challenge you to give it a try sometime. A rooster can hurt. So I am skeptical about this guy, but he is good looking and the ladies find him charming. Since he was delivered on election week I dubbed him Obama. I can only hope he'll serve his term well.

I should have...

Thanksgiving is mere days away. I should have spent today tidying up the yard, fixing up the guest room, organizing the pantry.

But instead we left the house just after chores were done and drove down scenic roads, past waterfalls and rivers and lovely places to New Hampshire where niece Emily and her good husband, Jeff, have purchased a wonderful new home. They were having a party to celebrate. The house is terrific, there is lots to be happy about.

They are still unpacking and settling in, but it is clear that their new place is going to be a blessing to them.

I got to be with all my siblings... all but sister Dicy. Oh how we miss her! It is kind of funny to look at this picture and see all the gray hair. This aging thing is something I constantly have to try to wrap my brain around.

I should have been washing china and ironing tablecloths and more. But instead I captured a day full of family. Nothing could be more beautiful.

First snow...

My corner of the world was blanketed in about 4 inches of heavy, wet snow this morning.

Although the native birds and animals are beautifully adapted to winter weather, I find my livestock to be unamused by the change.

Luna goat was SHIVERING yesterday morning when I went out to feed and milk. I came home with a coat for her. I have no idea if it is advisable or appropriate to put a coat on a goat, but she seemed to rather like the idea. This morning she seemed toasty warm and quite content with her stylish new outfit. I know the neighbors are going to talk.

The pigs nearly refused to come out of their little hut this morning. I put their food bowls, full of good things and warm goat milk, right outside the door... they grunted and grunted and peered at the white world and ignored the food for a very long time. (NOTE: this is highly unusual for them!) I finally put it right under their noses, and after they'd had a bite or 6 pulled the bowls out far enough so they had to enter the world to eat. This was a slow breakfast... they kept looking around in wonder. Finally they finished their food and drank greedily of the warm water I poured for them. They wandered about a bit, took care of bathroom needs and then gathered their curly tails and cloven hooves and went right back to the hut. I worry about them being warm enough, they have such sparse coats. I don't plan to buy them store-bought coats any time soon, however. Winter chores are a good bit different than those I do in warm weather. There are jugs of water to haul (the hoses are frozen solid,) and extra food to supply. It is dark when I get home and I wear a very fashionable blaze orange ball cap with little LED lights in the brim to guide my way. There is little temptation to linger and watch the critters. It is all business and warm boots and hurry up. I am adapting to the new rhythm, and find great pleasure in knowing the animals have all they need, snow or no.