Cuteness...

Megan popped in for a little visit today, and brought me the cutest thing I've seen. She knows how fond I am of my chickens, and the lovely eggs they produce.

 She gave me a wee little stamp and some ink. Turns out the stamp is meant to mark EGGS!

 This cute, tiny little glass chick was in the bag with the stamp.

Now I can tuck an egg or two into every dozen, and the recipients can read, "Daryl's Coop," on their breakfast.

How sweet and adorable is this?

Golden ticket...

One of my wonderful Christmas gifts from my generous husband was three "Golden Tickets." One is to take me to a fun dog trial weekend in May, one is for a romantic weekend get-away, and one was to visit my brother and sister-in-law in Vermont. When we first moved to Maine, I was happy that I would get to see more of my siblings, because we would all be in New England. Unfortunately there is no quick way to get to Vermont, so visits have been rare. It's about a 5 hour drive to get to the lovely part of the country where Dana and Paula live. So this weekend, I cashed in my ticket, and we had a pretty drive through Maine and New Hampshire, finally landing near Mt. Ascutney in Vermont. Chris had arranged for us to stay in a marvelous hotel. We checked in, then Dana and Paula came and got us, and took us out for a delicious supper at Skunk Hollow Tavern.

The next morning they were there again, and after a terrific breakfast Paula sweetly chauffeured us and gave us a nice driving tour of their corner of the world. We stopped in at their son's newly purchased property, where he stores his fleet of construction and excavating vehicles. As I looked at all the massive vehicles lined up, emblazoned with our family name, I couldn't help but think how proud our father would be to see his grandsons thriving enterprise.

We also stopped at my brothers real estate office. It has a brook running behind it, and he once saw a moose splashing in it!

Next we swung by their other son's house and picked up their precious 5 year old grand-daughter, Nora.

 Then we were off on a new adventure. They had arranged to take us for a sleigh ride.

The old sleigh had been beautifully refurbished, and each seat had a soft cushion and a warm lap robe. We watched as they harnessed the horses, Duke and Jake, then hitched them to the sleigh. For the next hour we rode over sparkling snow, past babbling brooks, over a little bridge, through meadows and woods and past fabulous old farms. The weather was completely perfect, bright sun and warm temperatures for this time of year, but plenty of snow for the sleigh to glide over.

A strap of bells on Jake's harness made a clear, ringing sound. The runners of the sleigh creaked over the snow, and the horses hooves made a muffled tattoo as they jogged along. It was all quite magical.

A red tail hawk perched overhead, looking for lunch.

Best of all was a little time spent with my big brother. He has always been one of my all time favorite human beings on the planet, and it makes me sad that we don't see each other often. Now that we know the road to Vermont, maybe we can make our visits more frequent. 

My first Golden Ticket provided a delightful weekend, with Chris driving me safely there and back, treating to yummy meals and being a perfect companion. The finest of gifts.

Doldrums..?

Sometimes I have trouble thinking of things to write about this time of year. I feel like all I write about is snow and goats. Life in winter gets a little small, and I don't wish to be boring. I was thinking this today when Rachel pointed out that Spirit goat was lying in some shavings/manure/compost that made up a little island in a sea of snow. She also mentioned that Spirit was looking very pregnant. I grabbed my camera... because she is looking rather wide.

Before I could put the camera back, she turned and yawned an enormous goat yawn.

She is clearly feeling the winter doldrums.

After she vacated her spot in the sun, it gained new occupants.

 Abraham and Bliss looked awfully sweet side by side. In the second picture, it looks like Bliss is whispering in his ear.

In the front yard, I was surprised to see some visitors.

Three Bluebirds came by for a brief stay, cheering the place up considerably.
Maybe things around here are not so dull after all.

Chickens...

Last September, 21 new White Rock chicks arrived in the mail. I've enjoyed them very much, sitting out in the coop with them while they were little, feeding them out of my hand, delighting in their antics.
They are 5 months old now, and looking very adult.

 When chicks are tiny, they don't have visible combs or wattles. As they grow and get their adult plumage, little combs and wattles appear, in a soft pink color. As they reach maturity, the pink blushes to a deep red. Once that happens eggs follow soon after. (Interestingly, when hens become too old to lay many or any eggs, the combs fade in color.)

This breed lays brown shelled eggs. The first ones are quite small, but otherwise perfect. They will get larger as the hens mature. So far I only get a few eggs a day, but as the days grow longer and the birds get a little older, we will be collecting a lovely basket full every day. I can hardly wait.

I ended up with two roosters. Randy Roo and Randy II. They are quite handsome, and so far are behaving nicely. They haven't been fighting with each other, and neither have attacked me yet. I hope this pleasant trend continues.

I am looking forward to seeing the flock of them wander about the pasture once the snow is gone. I think a flock of white birds pottering about will be fun to see.  And there will be all those nice eggs, too.I certainly enjoy having chickens.

Snow days...

As Maine winters go, this one has not had much snow. So when winter weather is coming, the weather guys get a bit dramatic. It started to come down yesterday morning, but long before the first flake fell customers were cancelling. I told Rachel to stay home. I only groomed three dogs all day, well, 4 if you include Flirt, who was overdue. It was strange working alone, I'm out of practice. The storm didn't amount to much, but by this morning ice was hissing on the windows. I spent a while re-arranging a day full of customers, then had a cup of tea by the incomparable heat of the wood stove. The house was quiet and the free morning like a gift.

After a while I headed outside. The goat and donkey rooms needed cleaning. I put a little hay on the snow to lure them outside.They would all prefer to stay in when it's wet.

I shoveled and scooped as fast as I could, then put down fresh shavings.Let me just say here, I love the smell of clean pine shavings.  I got done in the nick of time, they all trooped in, drippy and looking disgusted. Abraham's former human brought a huge tub of mints the other day, and the goats smelled them, (despite the crinkly plastic wrappers) in my pocket. They nearly mugged me while I struggled to unwrap two for each. Abraham and Sarah love them, too. Jezebel is unsure, but I think she will come around. She is always hesitant to try new treats. At any rate, I think the candy and the fact that the maid had cleaned up the place cheered them all up a bit. 

I left them in their tidy rooms and walked around on the crunchy snow for a while.

 Bravo doesn't mind the cold and stayed right with me.

I had to fill the bird feeder several times. 

The ice came down all day, coating everything. It made it extra cozy to be inside. 

Sometimes snow and ice are nice. 

Blink...

Chris has always been an incredibly inventive and thoughtful gift giver. One of my Christmas gifts was cameras to go inside the donkey dorm and goat room. They are from a company called "Blink," and are incredibly nifty.

My dear husband hooked them up a week or so ago. They can be viewed from an App on my phone or computer. I simply log in, and can look at one of two cameras to show either room. They work at night, and I can even listen in on the animals, or talk to them. The looks on their faces if I say, "Hi Goats!" Or, "Hello, Donks!" is quite comical.

These will be amazingly helpful at kidding time. I will be able to peek out and see if the girls are in labor without ever having to leave the house. No more toddling out in the rain or snow at 2:00 AM when I wake up worried and wondering.

I just took a peek to see what was up and here is what the image in the donkey dorm looks like.

Though this is a still picture, in reality when I click on I can see them moving about. It's such fun. 

Chris also got me a Game Cam, and we have it set up in the pasture so we can see what sort of critters are out there at night. As soon as I catch something interesting I will share. 

Technology like this continues to boggle my mind and make my life so much easier. Who knew I needed to be able to spy on my critters whenever I want? 

Waistlines...

 The donkeys are still on diets, and are most displeased. They let their displeasure be known by braying, long, loudly and with amazing frequency. I feel sad for my neighbors. Their waistlines do not seem to be shrinking, but then neither is mine.

 We've had a few warmish days, and all the animals soak up the sun while they can. I love this picture of fuzzy Sarah, resting her chin on the ground. I rarely see the donkeys do that, but she stayed this way for a long time, the picture of contentment.

Abraham was nearby, digesting breakfast and contemplating when snack time might be planned for. Jezebel laid down, too, but at an angle where I couldn't easily get her picture. It is unusual to see all three down at once, normally one will "stand guard," but they were obviously feeling secure on this morning.

Now let us discuss the goats waistlines. They are big girls, anyway, and from this angle you can see how broad they are. Spirit, on the right, is due to kid the last week of March. Bliss, her daughter, (left) is due the following week. That is a ways off, and those wide bodies make me wonder just how many kids are tucked up in there?

The waistlines at Fairwinds are generous. One of our friends recently told us, "I've decided you can't lose weight if you are happy." Maybe that's the problem, too much happiness.

Sweet T...

One of my best friends died on January 24th. Her name was Terese, and we have been friends for over 30 years. I met her when we had not lived in Memphis very long. I had just started a house call pet grooming business, and she was one of my first customers. She was living with her father, mother and brother in a long, low, brick ranch house. I went in the evening when Chris was home to take care of baby Rachel. Terese had two Border collies, and a Springer spaniel named Blessing. I was there to groom Blessing. We set my gear up in her bedroom, and chatted happily about dogs. She was a few years older than me, but we found we had much in common. When I was finished with my work, I remember quipping, "I have not lived here long, and don't know many people, want to be my new best friend?" She later told me that she had been thrilled by my question. I invited her to go shopping one day, and she popped over with a tote bag featuring a drawing of a Springer that looked just like mine for a gift. I had no way of knowing that this would be the first of many thoughtful, incredible gifts she would give me over the years. Soon she was part of the family, hanging out at our house, joining us for holiday celebrations, and becoming little Rachel's beloved, "Auntie Terese."

That first night I met her she told me that she would love to become a dog groomer. She had worked in Californian in some sort of office job, and then had moved home to care for her ailing mother. I met her when her mother was doing better, and Terese was looking for a new chapter in her life. I was working part time grooming at a veterinary hospital.I asked my boss if I could train a new person, and he agreed. I called Terese the next day and said, "Ok, so I have planned your life. You are going to come to work at the vet hospital with me, and I will train you to groom." She stuttered and stammered, and then agreed. Later she said no other approach could ever have been as effective as my bossy statement.She said she would have been too insecure to agree except for the way I delivered my plan left her no room to back out.  She continued to work at that place for over 30 years, making thousands of dogs more comfortable and beautiful.

I don't have many pictures of Terese, because she was one of those people who would run if a camera came out. I snagged this one off a video a mutual friend shared with me.

Terese was one of the most genuinely sweet people I have ever known. When I talked to her brother after her death he started the conversation with, "She was the only person I ever knew who loved EVERYBODY." That was true. Even people who were not kind to her, she would strive to find the good in them, and to find a way to dismiss their cruelty. It wasn't long before I dubbed her, "Sweet T," and that became my pet name for her.

When we moved to Maine 17 years ago I never dreamed I wouldn't see Terese again. I planned to bring her here, and offered, many times to send her airline tickets. She refused, wanting to wait until she lost weight, or had someone to watch her pets. We put a visit off, never knowing that tomorrow wouldn't come.

During her illness we texted volumes and talked on the phone almost every day. She couldn't sleep well in the early days, and said she often wished she could text me in the middle of the night so she wouldn't feel so alone, but didn't want to bother me. I asked if she'd like me to leave my phone where I couldn't hear it and she could call or text all she wanted, and I'd answer in the morning. She loved that idea. For weeks I'd get up at 6:00 and sit on the love seat in front of the wood stove. I would read all the messages she had sent me in the night, then call her. We would chat before I went out and did morning chores. As she became more ill, our pattern shifted. After work I'd get supper started and animals fed, then have a glass of wine by the wood stove and call her for a long, evening conversation.

Shortly after she was diagnosed with cancer, she confided in me, "I see dogs. Out of the corner of my eye, little dogs appear." She expected me to find this strange, and was happy that I thought it was nice. No one ever loved and appreciated dogs more than Sweet T, and it seemed to me that the dogs she was seeing were little guardians here to shepherd her along her way.

I am missing my friend and our fireside chats. I hope the little dogs she saw were there to greet her when she passed. Her kindness and generosity are forever woven into our lives, in ways that will keep us remembering until we, too, are mere memories.