Bravo wins big, (and other deep thoughts...)

Friday I skipped out of work early and hit the road.  Bravo was riding shotgun.  We headed north, on some scenic back roads, until we hit 95, then we drove, and drove, and drove some more. Soon there were no towns, just numbers. We were deep in what Mainers call, "the county." I listened to a book on Audible, and it was terrific, making the miles fly by.

 Finally we arrived in Presque Isle, a sweet little college town. We'd been there before, last spring, for a similar event. Dog training in a discipline called "Wag It Games."  Bravo and I have been training in Games since he was a young pup,we both think it's a lot of fun. This time he was 6 months older, and it really showed.  He was calm, confident, and paid good attention to me as we trained, and later as we trialed.  The proof, as they say, was in the pudding.

It went like this, both Saturday and Sunday mornings we had fun lessons and trained.After a friendly lunch, there were trials to see how much the dogs knew about the things we had worked on.  The top picture is from Saturday, when Bravo won some very nice ribbons.  The second picture was on Sunday, when he got a whole new slew of ribbons and his first "title" ribbon, which he found to be quite tasty. He was such a good boy, all weekend long, and we both had a really good time.

The weather took a nasty turn Monday morning, with hurricane force winds. I drove home white knuckled all the way.  Bravo, however, felt fully confident in my abilities, and snoozed happily the entire trip. There were many trees down along the roadsides,and huge gusts of wind buffeted and bluffeted my little truck.  Over 500,000 homes in Maine were without power. Including ours.

The weather was unseasonably warm, which was good. Except for the fact that I have several big freezers filled with locally raised pork, beef, and home raised chickens.  I went to bed last night fretting and worrying about things thawing. All day today there was no power. I could not work.  I cleaned the kitchen, and the bathroom, and the the front and living rooms. I cleaned the wood stove, swept the floors.

Rachel had brought me a special book to read.  When I was a child I adored the Little House series of books, written by Laura Ingalls Wilder.  I still have the collection, and re-read them from time to time.  Rachel had found a book called Caroline, Little House, Revisited. Based in the 1870's, it takes the story of the famous family into account from the mothers point of view. She
was a very young  woman, pregnant, with two little girls. She and her husband packed everything they could fit into a wagon and headed west, pioneers, in search of a dream.  I paused between cleaning chores, (with no running water and no electricity) and snuggled on the sofa, reading Caroline's story.  My brief period of not having electricity paled in comparison to her life, and put the little pause in my regular routine nicely into perspective.

The house feels different when there is no electricity. Even during the day, with the light steaming in, things are oddly quiet. There is no hum from the refrigerator and freezers. No sound of water rushing through the pipes as the washing machine or dishwasher spin and churn.  No music from the stereo, no whir of the fan of the computer.If I wake in the night, there is no glowing face of the electric clock, no familiar swish of  the window fan. And since we have well water, there is no flushing the commode. I missed that most of all.
The dogs notice the quiet, too. They seem a little subdued.

I grilled bratwurst outside at dusk, and kept it warm on the wood stove. And then, in a whoosh, the lights were on.  Magic, really.  What would Caroline Ingalls have thought of all the conveniences I enjoy?  I try hard not to take them for granted, always, but especially so after doing without for 30 hours or more.

So tonight, I am grateful for a lovely weekend away with my smart puppy, (such NICE people there!)
 safe travels, great books, electricity, the people that keep electricity coming to my home and running water.  That's a lot to be grateful for.

Taste of fall...

It was another beautiful, warm day, but I know cooler fall weather is around the corner.  I left the house early this morning for some errands and appointments, and when I got home decided I should take advantage of the lovely temperatures and put my front flower gardens to bed for the winter.  They have been so riotously flower-filled all summer, I was sad to see them go, but had to admit they were looking bedraggled.

I pulled the dying plants up by big armfuls, filling my enormous wheel barrow to overflowing, twice.

I know most people must struggle with what to do with all those plants.  I have no problem, however.

The goats, styling in their blaze orange, hunting season finery,  mobbed me at the gate, tearing huge mouthfuls of plants off the wheel barrow as I tried to move it out to the manure pile. I gave up and dumped it about 15 feet from the gate, and they descended upon the mess as if it were a fabulous smorgasbord.

Our visiting buck found the rose bush clippings to be particularly delectable.

Halfway through the project I popped back in the house to get supper started. I tucked a roaster chicken, raised right here, some local squash and sweet potatoes, into my trusty cast iron skillet.  Then I poured a mix of melted butter, honey, lemon juice, garlic and rosemary over everything and slid it all into the oven.  A harvest season meal, for certain.  As I dug and hauled I could catch the occasional tantalizing whiff of it cooking as a breeze wafted the scent out of the open kitchen window.

The next time I have a little free time I will rake the beds to rid them of the last stems and leaves and smooth the dirt. I should also cut back the foliage from the lilies, I realize now as I look at these pictures.  But the bulk of this job is done.

I fed the animals, threw Bravo a ball one hundred times and locked up the chickens, while a blood-orange sun sank behind the ridge. The lights from indoors were warm and welcoming as I kicked my dirty boots off on the deck. I came inside to find supper perfectly done and the house perfumed with savory smells.

It was a good day.

Yazgur...

Sometimes the planets align and things fall magically into place.  That happened today.
It only took a few polite emails and some brief phone calls, and then Charles from Tramps Rest Farm put a smelly billy goat in the back of his car and brought him to visit. Because it is the time of year when my lady goats are in the mood for LOVE!  I know this because they wag their funny little tails at a furious speed, bleat and baaa and talk more than usual, plus they seem very annoyed with each other, head butting and carrying on like a bunch of kids on the school playground. Most breeds of goats only come into estrus in the fall. They cycle through around every 21 days from around September till January or so.  Unless, that is, they get a visit with someone like Yazgur.

He is a Saanen buck, the same breed as my beloved Spirit goat. And not only THAT, but he has waddles, the little dangley things that hang off some goats necks. They are known as "goat jewelry" and I adore them. AND he is polled, which means he carries the genetic trait of being born with no horns. If his kids inherit this trait they won't have to undergo the horrid process of "disbudding," where the tiny horns are burnt off when the kids are very young. 

Yazgur made a bee line for Spirit the moment he entered the pasture.  He's a young guy, just born this spring, and these are the first ladies he has had an opportunity to, ah, entertain. That dirty face?  Bucks have a strange idea about how to be appealing to the girls.  They like to pee on their legs and faces, spreading the strong, hormone-laden smell of their urine all around.  Icky to humans, irresistible to lady goats.

Chanel came right up to check out the new comer.  When I first brought a buck here 6 years or so ago, Chanel had a huge temper tantrum. She ran and raced and bucked and snorted, furious by the sight and smell of the guy.  Wiser now, the two touched noses and all was well.

Abraham ignored him.

He zipped from goat to goat, inhaling deeply, and finally decided that Ella smelled just delicious.

I'll spare you more graphic pictures, but there was a whole lot of action going on in the pasture at FairWinds today.  And in 5 months there will hopefully be a flock of darling goatlings frolicking about.  And some of them will be pure bred Saanens. That will delight me. 

Sometimes the stars align and things fall into place.  This was one of those times. 

New project...

For months my energy has been directed towards THE. WEDDING. And now the wedding is over and I had a couple days of "down time."  Today I was back to work, with a very busy schedule.  And then my neighbor stopped by, asking if I could give up some goat milk to help a littler of new piglets.  Their mama is not doing well and has stopped producing milk. Of course I could!

Thirty minutes later the neighbor was back.  "Would you consider taking a few piglets?"  Of course I would!

In a blink these three babies were tucked into a crate in the grooming room.

Their farmer told me that even though they are only 3 days old, they could probably learn to drink out of a pan.  I warmed up some goat milk and quickly found that she is right. They are hardly neat, but they sucked down milk and then piled up for a cozy nap under the heat lamp.

Bravo thinks they are fascinating, and spent much of the day watching them, and licking their little faces if they pressed them to the bars of the cage.

Funny how the universe delivered a new project just when my old project was completed.  

October wedding...

The wedding happened, wonderfully.
October 15 dawned misty and turned to rain, but that passed and left us with a cool but perfectly fine day to celebrate.  Our efforts all came together and the place looked welcoming, whimsical,

 and warm.

 The flower girls were precious.

 The bride radiant.

And there were the most amazing flowers. Evans lovely aunt and cousins brought flowers in vases and old blue Mason jars and galvanized tubs. Little pots filled with rosemary (for remembrance!) brightened the tables. Their arrangements took my breath away.

 Friend Danie decided to make even the powder room special, and festooned it with roses everywhere. Perfection.

And she thought the bride and groom needed to be immortalized with enormous caricatures. 

 I love this image of my handsome Chris, captured in the wonderful old mirror we hung in the garage.

We had twinkle lights and other lights and we even...

hung lovely lace over the utilitarian florescent bulbs on the garage ceiling, elevating them to something rather magical.

Despite a few frosts, my gardens still boasted riotous blossoms.

The tent and linen dressed tables made things look quite festive. 

We had plenty of food, and wine and home brewed beer and champagne and soda and cider and coffee and everything.

Abraham sported a bow tie (made by the talented Barbara Ford!) and let all the children sit on his broad, fuzzy, back.  He loves kids.

The wedding cake was as delicious as it was beautiful, and was topped by a vintage cake topper which has previous graced the grooms maternal grandparents cake, as well as his parents cake, and many other family members wedding and anniversary cakes.  A sweet tradition.

 We got a little silly and made the newlyweds milk a goat. Because, well, why not?

I only cried a little, tiny, bit, but was deeply moved watching my beloved pledge her love to her beloved.  Chris and I held hands, hard, as we watched the milestone moment.

And now the wedding is over and sweet memories of a special event remain. I am steeped in gratitude to all the kind family members and friends who worked so hard to make it all happen.

 The couple is off on a lovely honeymoon, and a whole new chapter is beginning.

Crunch time...

The wedding is three days away. It will be the culmination of 6 months of plotting and planning.  And we have enjoyed it all SO much.  The "to do" list is in good shape, peppered with happy little red check marks.   However, it looks like a party came and threw up all over my dining room...

Stacks of dishes, serving platters and pieces, ruffled dog collars, cases of wine, boxes of bows, bean pots filled with silverware, a big ol' coffee pot, games to play and even... I hesitate to tell you, a donkey pinata.  Yes, it's going to be that kind of a wedding.

Chris took the day off today and smoked 4 enormous hunks of pork. He started early in the morning and finished at dusk. 10 or more hours on the smoker, the yard redolent with the smell of apple wood and slow cooked meat.  He will cook 4 more tomorrow, and I get to enjoy the scent all over again.  We carved a bit of the meltingly tender meat off tonight and tasted it... extraordinary!

And may I say, I'm a little bit proud of my prior planning.  In June I arranged to have the septic tanked pumped so it will be ready for the onslaught of a lot of guests. This is the sort of detail one must be aware of when they live in the country. Tank pumping happened this morning. Let me check one more thing off my list.

I had hoped for a big rain (we have been in a drought all summer) to settle the dust and help make the place smell a bit more fresh. We had that last weekend.  I had hoped for some pretty fall colors.

Got those now, too. And we had hoped the unseasonably warm weather would cool a bit so the hearty meal, cozy fire rings and hot mulled wine we have planned would be appealing. The forecast says we are on track for that.  Could God be smiling on our soiree? If so, he is laughing about this...

Chris tried on his one and only sports coat a week ago. He has lost so much weight it no longer fit.  Since he works in (almost) the city, I suggested he go buy a new one.  Rachel (smart woman that she is) thought she should drive in and go with him, to offer a bit of feminine guidance.  She and I were picturing him in a nice navy blue blazer.  He, on the other hand, gravitated towards this:

She sent me the picture with a text message that said "I told him 'NO' in a firm voice." I raised her well.

Today was my last day of grooming for a bit. Tomorrow I will clean the grooming studio, and get a pre-wedding manicure, and muck out goat and pony cozy and the chicken coops. I have some other things to do, as well, and will, working towards the big day.  All of the efforts are almost at an end, and now the realization is dawning, it's going to be an excellent party. Chris said today, "It's like our  A List of favorite people, all coming together for one day." We are shifting gears from getting ready to getting ready to have a wonderful time with some amazing people.  And Chris will NOT be wearing that ugly jacket.