Sensational 60...

For the past 6 months or so I have had the fleeting thought, "I'm almost 60!" Mostly this happened when I was lifting a 50 pound sack of animal feed or tossing a hay bale from one spot to another. As my birthday approached, we chatted about how to celebrate. Due to the Corona virus pandemic, a party was out. Traditionally Rachel and I go antique shopping to celebrate, then have a special lunch out, but most stores and all restaurants are closed. It seemed that my "round" birthday might be a little flat.

I woke up early, cooked breakfast for Chris, then did animal chores. There is a daily satisfaction in making sure all the critters have their needs met.While I worked I was serenaded by a song sparrow on the burn pile, filling the air with the sound of spring. A pair of Canada geese passed low overhead, singing their haunting song. A loon, newly arrived from southern climes, called from the lake. The air was chill and a dusting of late snow clung to everything, but the mud underfoot promised the changing season is underway.

 I cleaned the donkey dorm and goat room, and sat watching the baby goats frolic in the fresh shavings. After that I tidied up the house and headed for a long shower. Rachel arrived and handed me a sinful hazelnut frozen coffee to enjoy while I stood in the warm steam.  So far my day was off to an excellent start.

When I was a kid one of my favorite birthday treats was Icebox Cake. Made with thin chocolate wafers layered with whipped cream, the concoction chills in the refrigerator for hours. The cookies absorb the whipped cream and the simple creation tastes... well, to me it tastes like love and happiness. Rachel kindly put one together for me.

I had read that an antique mall we like was still open, and I called to check. I was told that they were not, but if we came and knocked on the door, they would let us in. We were off.

The only customers there, we took our time and poked around, finding several treasures to bring home. The morning clouds had parted, and though a cold wind was blowing, we stopped at a local beach just to be near the water a little.

Our next stop was to grab some take out Thai food. We took it to the Belfast harbor and dined while enjoying an excellent view.

Back home a fine family supper, a pile of thoughtful, creative gifts and that amazing cake capped off a day that was a worthy celebration of a major birthday.

Add to that the blessing of this day being the 36th anniversary of our wedding, I can happily say despite these challenging times, I am among the most blessed of women.

It was a sensational 60!

Juggling lessons...

Abraham donkey has been here for three kidding seasons, and Sarah for two. They tolerate the antics of baby goats with what appears to me to be a gentle sense of humor. Abraham lets the kids jump on his broad back, and both are very gentle. Jezebel donkey arrived last summer. In her previous home she lived on a goat farm, and shared a pasture with the buck goats and older kids, but never tiny babies. She has shown tremendous interest in our kids, and it worried me. I've been keeping the goats and donkeys separated, but last week one kid got into the pasture where the donkeys were, and all was fine, so I decided I was worried for no reason.  Thursday I got brave and let everyone hang out together. I was showing a friend the kids when Jezebel grabbed one baby and bit it, throwing it to the ground. I yelled at her and she stalked off, sulking.  The kid was OK, but it was a scary moment. I went back to keeping everyone apart. Unfortunately the way our little barn and pasture is set up this is very tricky. The goats access their room by going through the donkey dorm. I lock the mama goats and kids into their room at night, but in the morning the juggling begins. Some days I serve the donkeys their breakfast in the back yard. They think this is a fun treat. Bravo watches them closely, he thinks they don't belong there. (Side note, my son in love says the bird in this picture is, "the roosteryest rooster ever.")

 While they are having a picnic, I let the goat families roam the little paddock and open pasture. The kids are growing fast, and they need room to race and run, twist and flounce. When the weather is fine, I can alternate leaving the donkeys in the back yard for a few hours, and locking them into the new paddock that is in front of the donkey dorm. But this means that the goats cannot access their cozy. I have put a calf hutch out in the pasture for them to seek shelter, but it's not ideal. By late afternoon the kids are tired and want to go to bed, so they line up at the gate, looking very small and sleepy. Then I have to carefully move them in without letting them bump into Jezebel. This is tricky, because baby goats have a death wish. Every day they try to squeeze through the fence, and they try to do it as close to Jezebel as possible. They sneak past me when I open gates, and head right for the critter that wants them dead. My adrenal glands get a work out several times a day, it's exhausting.

In the wee, dark hours, it occurred to me that maybe I could board Jezebel somewhere for a few weeks. That might be confusing for her, though. Then I thought that if I had a little door from the goat room to the pasture, it would solve my problem. The goats could come and go at will, and the donkeys could spend the day in the paddock but still have access to their room. At night I can still lock the goats up into their cozy, and the donkeys can roam the pasture. It would make my life so much easier, and the kids would be safe. So I called a friend who does carpentry. She came out today to measure and plan. The donkeys helped her.

Jezebel had her nose touching the measuring tape. She also begged for a good butt rub.

Meanwhile, I had another small project I wanted to work on. The chickens have a pretty good sized yard to be in, but there is a small opening in the wire fence that allows them to access the big pasture. This flock has not discovered the opening yet. It was partially obscured by dead grass. Today I took a hoe out and cleared up the weeds. Then I tossed a bunch of cracked corn and sunflower seeds around the opening. It didn't take long for the chickens to figure it out. I may or may not have "helped" by giving them a little pat on their feathered bottoms when they poked their head through. It was fun to see them out exploring new territory.

Later the two lady ducks also figured the opening out. But the poor drake did not. Maybe tomorrow, when the juggling continues.

Frenetic Friday...

Friday dawned chilly and the work calendar for the day was full. I went outside to feed and water all the animals and one look at Bliss told me we would have more babies on the way, too. I got everyone taken care of and Rachel and I started our grooming day. Every 30 minutes or so I went out to check. Bliss was pawing the ground, lying down, getting up, chuckling to her unborn kids. Nothing much happened until around 10:30, when I helped her deliver a very large doeling, who came out backwards. It seemed we were not to have much in the way of normal kidding this season. Bliss and I cleaned off her new baby, and I hustled back inside to help Rachel finish up the standard poodle we had on the table.

I very much wanted someone to be out monitoring Bliss, and wonderful Chris volunteered. He is working from home, but took an early lunch break and dove right in to the project at hand. I feel I must mention now that deep in my heart I believe that left to his own devices, Chris would live in a condominium in Florida and not have as much as a house plant. Yet here he is, on a farmlette in Maine, finding himself on his knees in a goat stall, awash in amniotic fluid. He is amazing. The most wonderful help mate of all time. Rachel and I got to work on a lovely Australian Shepherd, and Chris became a goat midwife. He called us, "I see an amniotic sac, should I break it?" We told him not to, and he waited. He managed to capture this incredible image of the next kid as she emerged into the world.

"She was looking all around," he later told me, with awe in his voice. A second doeling was soon taking her first breaths, and Chris helped dry her off.  The customer/friend who owned the dog we were grooming had worn boots, because I told her we might have kids arriving. She went right out and helped Chris, bringing him extra towels, and taking some nice photos of the kids as they arrived. Bliss paused in her cleaning efforts to deliver a third kid, another girl. I have someone wanting to buy all the girls I will sell them, so having three new doelings arrive, live and healthy, was cause for relief and celebration.

But meanwhile, I was worried about Spirit. She was acting as if she were in pain, shifting her weight from leg to leg, pressing her head into the wall, not wanting to lie down or move much. I was in contact with my amazing veterinarian all day. My marching orders were to inject her with pain medication, vitamin B complex and penicillin. I was also to give her some probiotics and calcium. I didn't have all the necessary medications, so had to borrow some from farm friends, and Chris made a run to the feed store to pick up other supplies when his work day was done.

After we made the Aussie clean and pretty Rachel went out to make sure each kid got a turn at the milk bar. She is particularly good at this, and it's trickier than you might think. Once again a team effort got the new kids off to a good start.

Once the last dog was groomed and sent home, and dusk was gathering, Chris, Rachel and I went out and raked up all the soiled shavings from the goat room, then spread clean ones out. We put the kidding partition up and settled each doe and her kids into their half of the room with buckets of clean water and plenty of hay. I injected Spirit with the prescribed medications, poured calcium down her throat, and rewarded her with a bowl of goat grain. We had a heat lamp rigged up over Bliss and her little family. I finally had time to get a good look at her new babies, and was sad to see that one of them has a significant spinal deformity. Her neck is short, her shoulders humped. She has trouble nursing, and seems uncomfortable. We are supplementing her with a bottle several times a day, but I suspect she will not survive. The vet is coming out tomorrow and will give us her opinion. This has cast a pall of sadness and worry over the joy of the triplets arrival.

Meanwhile, Spirits kids provide smiles with their sweet antics.

When I went out to check on everyone later, Spirit was lying down and sleeping peacefully, her kids tucked up against her. Bliss and her new babies were snuggled under the heat lamp. We all slept well after that frenetic Friday.

(Note: Spirit is now feeling perfectly fine after her treatment.)

Twins...

During these strange days of Covid 19, taking care of the animals at FairWinds is both uplifting and grounding. The timing of the birth of the twins has been helpful. They are pure joy on tiny hooves.

If you have never held a baby goat, let me describe the experience to you. Their bodies are about the size of an average sized cat. Their legs are long, but when you pick them up they tend to just fold those legs up against their bodies and snuggle in. Their fur is dense and soft, and they smell like a blend of fresh cut hay, spicy pine, and the sweetness of milk. Of course, they are warm, and a delight to snuggle.

We named the doeling Hope, because new life is hope for the future in a difficult time. The buckling is Iggy. He is named after a groomer friends father, who is elderly and interested in the pictures and stories of the critters here. When my friend showed him a picture of the kids he said, "She should name one Iggy after me". So I did. Here is Iggy in a bucket.

And Hope posing for a selfie with me. 

Today I introduced the kids to Bliss, who is technically their half sister. She is due to deliver her own kids any day now, and checked the babies out with some interest. In the past we have had adult goats that tried to kill other goats babies. It is nice that she and Spirit are kind to each others offspring. This afternoon I let each donkey sniff the new arrivals. They have seen them through the fence, and checked them out with evident curiosity. I am hoping that when we let everyone hang out together things will go smoothly. It's always a worry, the donkeys are so big, and the kids so small.

There are hints of green coming up in the winter-brown grass. New bird voices join in the spring time chorus every day. And inside, there is forsythia blooming, thanks to sister Donna, who reminded me to go cut some bare twigs a few weeks ago and put them in water. Of course, there are those baby goats, full of sweetness and joy. In difficult times I try to focus on all the goodness around me.

New Faces at FairWinds...

Technically Spirit goat was due to deliver yesterday, but she wasn't showing any of the typical signs, so I thought it might be a few more days. This morning she was a little restless, and was "chuckling." This means she was uttering a special little call to her unborn kid or kids and it is a sure sign that labor will begin soon. We decided we had time to grab breakfast out, and did so. I have a camera in the goat cozy, so I was able to peek in at her while we were gone. Just about the time we got home she started to push. To my horror, a little goat head came out, without the prerequisite two little goat feet that should have come first. I had a reach in and there were no feet to be found. This was an emergency I was not experienced enough to deal with, so I sent Chris packing up the street to see if the nice people at the goat dairy would come help. Then I called farmer neighbor Cheryl, and she happened to be driving nearby and came right over. Poor Spirit was in obvious pain, and it was upsetting for me to see her and be unable to help. Cheryl jumped right in and in a few minutes had retrieved one front hoof.

 The other leg was out of reach. I called the vet, she was far away, but gave instructions to tie baling twine around the foot we had, and then push the kid back in and try to get the other hoof. I went to the house to get some things Cheryl needed, and when I got back she had somehow managed to deliver the kid, a boy, and alive. I was elated. Just then Chris returned with Morgan from the goat dairy, and Cheryl's friend Moe, who has lots of experience delivering sheep and other hoof-stock arrived, too, along with Mike. We had a crowd in our little cozy. Spirit was cleaning her kid and talking to him. Morgan reached in and found a second kid, but there were no contractions and we decided to let mother and baby bond and rest and wait a bit to see what happened.

Cheryl and her wonderful entourage headed to her place when she said, "I made a pot of chili, lets go eat lunch!" I stayed here, helping dry the kid. Chris rigged up a heat lamp and fetched towels and supplies for me, making countless trips to the house. After about 40 minutes the whole group of helpful farmers returned. The buckling didn't seem to have any idea how to nurse, so we got some milk from Spirits bountiful udder and Moe gave the little guy his first meal from a bottle.

Morgan gloved up again and reached in to check progress with the second kid. I took my eyes off her for an instant and when I looked back there was second kid on the shavings. She was covered in meconium, a sign that she was in distress. We started drying her, then handed her over to her mama, who took over to polish her up. She got a little taste of milk from the bottle, too. The wonderful helpers all headed back to whatever it was they were were doing before they dropped everything to assist us. I cleaned up the soiled shavings and put a fresh bale down, put up a partition to separate the goat cozy into two "rooms," so the new family could have privacy, and brought Spirit a bucket of warm water with electrolytes in it. She drank it down, sampled some hay, then went back to cleaning and admiring her beautiful twins. I left them alone to rest and came in to get supper started. After about an hour I went back out and plunked down in the shavings with the new family. Spirit, in "cleaning" overdrive, licked my face and hands and chuckled at me. I helped each kid latch on to one of her teats and watched, in grateful awe, as they filled their bellies with warm milk. Their little tails began to wag and their patient mama licked first one, then the other, then me. Late afternoon sun slanted in, the air smelled of clean pine shavings and fresh hay. It was quiet and peaceful. I sat there a long time, until the kids, full and tired, cuddled up under the heat lamp. Spirit carefully laid down beside them. I slipped her a few special cookies.

Now there are two new faces at FairWinds. A boy and a girl, small and perfect and full of life. It took a village to get them here, some people I barely know, and some I'd never met, but all of them came instantly, without question, to help a lady goat in trouble. Today was filled with blessings, and baby goats. I'm going to call it a very good day.

Signs of spring...

March is a special month in our family. This page on the calendar is home to our wedding anniversary and three birthdays; Rachel's, Bravo's and mine. In my head March is the beginning of spring, too. Realistically, this is a bit of a stretch, because we live so far north. But there are signs of spring if I take time to look.

In the winter the chickadee's sing a little song that sounds like, "Chick a dee dee."  In the spring they change their tune to a cheery little, "Phoebe" song. My friend Liz pointed this out to me years ago when I first moved to Maine. Now I listen carefully and delight when the spring time song begins. I have also heard bluebirds singing their mating song, and saw a red winged blackbird last week, newly arrived from warmer climes. The birds know it is time to find love and build nests. Soon the air will be filled with song from dawn till dusk.

Daffodils are for sale at the grocery store. They come in tight bunches with the buds barely open, but in a day or two they spread their yellow cups and scent the air sweetly. There are no flowers blooming here yet, but they are growing somewhere, and that is hopeful. 

Sennebec Pond is still mostly frozen,I can glimpse the dull, flat, whiteness of it through the trees. However, there are areas of dark, open water near the shore. Canada geese are migrating back. I can hear them calling from where they dabble and splash, sandwiched in the narrow space of water between the ice and the rocky edges. Soon the lake will be open again and they can search out nest sites for the next generation. 

Almost all the ice and snow has melted from our back yard. I was able to do chores wearing sneakers instead of my heavy winter boots with ice grips on. The chickens and ducks have vast new areas to explore now that the ground is open. They find seeds and bugs and who knows what else. At night when they head to their coops, it is gratifying to see their crops bulging full of whatever they gobble while scratching about in the dead leaves and grass. 

They are laying lots of lovely eggs. Yesterday I got my first "regular" sized egg, (above left.) Their first pullet eggs have been rather petite, but as they mature the size should increase. I feel the need to whip up a tasty quiche! 

The goats are looking very round. If I hold the flat of my hand against their swollen bellies I am sometimes rewarded by feeling a kid kick. This delights me. I am watching carefully for signs of impending birth. If I counted right, Spirit should kid next weekend. Nothing says "spring" quite as much as the sight of goat kids leaping and twisting around the pasture. 

Spring is coming, step by welcome step.