C'etait un Rendez-Vous (avec le privé)

So yesterday B turned 38. It was a great day for a birthday, and I made him chicken and dumplings to celebrate. His favorite. He bought his own birthday cake this year, at his request. He bought cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory.

I bought him, among other things, the movie C'etait un Rendez-Vous. Of course I love it because it is French, and it has great views of Montmartre, where we stayed in Paris. But it's a stomach-turning car racing movie-- all 9 minutes of it. We bought the DVD online, of course, and when it came, it had come loose inside the package. So, L and I decide that we need to open it up and watch it and make sure it was not damaged in shipping, before giving it to B for his present.

Well, it was fine, and L was riveted. I asked him why he thought the guy was speeding along through the streets of Paris at breakneck speeds. His answer?

Because he had to go to the bathroom.

What a romantic.

(B loved the movie!)

A Quick Snow

It snowed on Friday, melted on Saturday. I was able to capture a few good shots. Click on the photo to view the slideshow.

Epiphany

No, I’m not talking about the holiday kind that we just celebrated, I’m talking about the “wake up and smell the coffee” kind of epiphany. The kind that kicks you in the pants and makes you wake up in the night.

The kind that aren’t so good.

Yesterday, as I was feeding the animals, it suddently occurred to me: Ernie and Bert are not pets. They are livestock. And I mean that in all seriousness. Perhaps that occurred to YOU, but to ME, it has taken a couple of jabs to the face with horns, being jumped on as I bring hay into the pen, countless bales of wasted hay, and many hours of repairs to realize this.

I remember the cute little babies we brought home, who answer to their names, cute “smiley” faces and how they bounded over when I called them. And they still are that, to some degree. But they are also large, they will soon weigh more than I do, if they don’t already. They have large horns, and they know how to use them to get what they want. They go on only instict to get what they want most: food. They tear up anything that stands in their way.

And they are becoming less and less endearing. And I wonder why I ever thought they were going to stay endearing?? I look at Cindi, and I hope that she always stays little, petite and sweet. And she may, as she is a doe, and should always be handled. But wethers, they are just not pet material.

THIS is why I blog. THESE are the conversations I need to have with myself if I will ever reconcile farming. I need to have these epiphanies and talk them through. It is such an adjustment for me. It is one that I want to make, and that I am ready to make. But I don't know how to do it, other than to learn as I go. And that's what I am doing, and that is why I decided to blog. I wanted a record of my thought processes and my epiphanies-- good and bad.

I am not saying that Ernie and Bert will be sold or slaughtered. After all, they are the farm spokesgoats! But as I was reading on an online livestock board recently, I took offense at a woman’s comments about how “wethers should only be one place: the freezer.” I am rethinking my offense at her advice—they can be dangerous, and they are too large to be pets, even the one with great personalities.

Part of the problem is that they have been inside all winter. We let them out when we can, but as long as the neighbor’s dogs are loose, we can’t be sure that they won’t be in harm’s way (at least all day long when we’re not here). The paddock fence has been reinforced, keeping them in mind. We had hoped they could go out during the day into the paddock with Joe. However, watching Joe jump the fence like a gazelle, and Ernie and Bert slip through between the (reinforced) gate and gatepost has only underscored that we need to be here when they are out. (And that we need better fences.) We will be getting better fences this spring, and may fence off a new area just for the goats. But until then, they must stay in the barn the majority of the time. And I can’t blame them for trying their escape tactics when they are cooped up all day. However, this has been good—it has revealed to me the exact sentiment that I was hoping I would someday feel: babies are cute, but you can’t keep them all as pets.

Maybe there is hope for us someday to get that beef steer… I don't think we're ready to eat Ernie and Bert, but maybe a steer.

Small Talk

Do you have trouble making small talk? What IS small talk?

It has been quite the obsession around our home today. When you have a child with autism, the importance of (and the ability to make) small talk is not easily grasped.

Church is a great place to practice small talk. That’s not to say that you can’t discuss heavy issues with your church friends, or go to your clergy person with an intense problem to sort out. However, after church, when you’re sitting around having coffee and a donut, that’s not the time to bring out the family skeletons for dusting and cleaning.

Acceptable small talk:
The weather
The flowers in your garden this year
How one’s children/grandchildren are doing
How good the coffee/juice/donut tastes
The yield on your crops/vegetable garden
Latest animal antics at our farm


Unacceptable small talk:
Announcing that we have 19 cats inside (a lie)
Communicating your mother was running around with leopard print pajama pants threatening to wear said outfit to church
Pointing out to your co-conversant that it’s likely that she is the oldest member of the church
Pointing out to someone that they have a stain on their clothes
Declaring the food/drink awful
Telling fellow church members that we never pray (a lie)
Sharing that your grandfather is getting a divorce from his second wife
Announcing to everyone that you are rich
Sharing your feelings that your classroom teacher is annoying

Yes, please take a moment to commiserate with me: picture me, with my imaginary shovel, digging my imaginary hole in the tiled church floor, wanting to crawl deep into the hole and never come out again.

When I had kids, I thought they came with an owner’s manual. I know I’ve moved a lot, but I always registered my change of address with the post office. I never got a manual. Does anyone have one I can borrow? I’ll even take an emailed PDF copy.

I really need to go back and read the directions, because I think I’m doing this all wrong.

All work and no play...

I am finally getting close to caught up at work. However, it's taking all of my energy and focus! I took some pictures of my office today, since it seems like that's all I see these days. When I get home, I don't feel like doing much... : (

Check out the keyboard-- look at how the letters are worn off! I must be working too much. Certainly it's not from blogging too much!

Here are the photos of my office-- it's nice enough, but see why I prefer my farm?

OH ERNIE!!!!!

Ernie is such a little shit. We just can’t keep him in! We made the feeder, the “fix your wagon” feeder, which made him angry. He did get over it, but the only reason he got over it, I suspect, was because he got his graph paper and pencil out when I wasn’t looking, and plotted his next attack.

Yesterday I came home, and he was out. He had just jumped the side of the pen. I have no idea how he did it, as the one side is at least 9 feet tall, and there is only a small opening between the top of the gate and the header. Bert was inside of the feeder—you know, the one we constructed so that goats could not get inside. Everything went to hell in a handbasket.

So today, B went into the barn and Ernie had torn the top length of fence off, and had jumped out. He must have stood on top of the feeder for hours tearing the length of fence apart, then jumped over and got the alfalfa.

That alfalfa must be heavenly, since it seems as though it’s worth spending your days calculating the big breakout. On the other hand, with Ernie, you never know. It could be the thrill of pissing me off.

Well, you have to hand it to the kid, he has accomplished his goal!

Next we will move him and Bert to the stall that Joe and Cindi occupy. They hold horses, so with some chicken wire to give it some more height (a LOT of chicken wire), they should be contained. Now let’s hope that Joe and Cindi stay in the pen…

You can rest assured that I will continue to update on this developing situation.

EFNJ

I took a Myers-Briggs type test today online, and it determined that I was an EFNJ. Interesting...

Teachers are abstract in their thought and speech, cooperative in their
style of achieving goals, and directive and extraverted in their interpersonal
relations. Learning in the young has to be beckoned forth, teased out from
its hiding place, or, as suggested by the word 'education,' it has to be
'educed.' by an individual with educative capabilities. Such a one is the
eNFj, thus rightly called the educative mentor or Teacher for short. The
Teacher is especially capable of educing or calling forth those inner potentials
each learner possesses. Even as children the Teachers may attract a gathering
of other children ready to follow their lead in play or work. And they
lead without seeming to do so.

Teachers expect the very best of those around them, and this expectation,
usually expressed as enthusiastic encouragement, motivates action in others
and the desire to live up to their expectations. Teachers have the charming
characteristic of taking for granted that their expectations will be met,
their implicit commands obeyed, never doubting that people will want to
do what they suggest. And, more often than not, people do, because this
type has extraordinary charisma.

The Teachers are found in no more than 2 or 3 percent of the population.
They like to have things settled and arranged. They prefer to plan both
work and social engagements ahead of time and tend to be absolutely reliable
in honoring these commitments. At the same time, Teachers are very much
at home in complex situations which require the juggling of much data with
little pre-planning. An experienced Teacher group leader can dream up,
effortlessly, and almost endlessly, activities for groups to engage in,
and stimulating roles for members of the group to play. In some Teachers,
inspired by the responsiveness of their students or followers, this can
amount to genius which other types find hard to emulate. Such ability to
preside without planning reminds us somewhat of an Provider,
but the latter acts more as a master of ceremonies than as a leader of
groups. Providers are natural hosts and hostesses, making sure that each guest is well looked
after at social gatherings, or that the right things are expressed on traditional
occasions, such as weddings, funerals, graduations, and the like. In much
the same way, Teachers value harmonious human relations about all else,
can handle people with charm and concern, and are usually popular wherever
they are. But Teachers are not so much social as educational leaders, interested
primarily in the personal growth and development of others, and less in
attending to their social needs.

These things have been said about me before, not necessarily in such a scientific fashion.

I wonder what personality type is the best goat farmer.

The Wrath of Ernie

Wednesday evening we came home from being out, and the goats were out. When I leave in the morning, I crack the barn door a bit for some fresh air, but not so much that it gets cold. It was open about 12". The kids noticed the goats peeking out, and laughed and of course, the goats squeezed through the opening and through the fence and came running over. I called their names and they came running to me like dogs. "The food lady! The food lady!"

Apparently, they had head-butted each other and played rough enough that the gate to their pen came unlatched and there was a large opening between the edge of the gate and the gatepost.

Previously, we had made them a keyhole feeder. It's a piece of plywood cut with "head holes" in it so that the goats can only have enough room to get their heads inside. Ernie is mean to Bert and tries to keep him from eating. But, if his head is occupied in the feeder, he won't be as likely to fight. Also, they waste a tremendous amount of alfalfa, only eating the leaves (because they can). They really won't, instinctively, eat soiled hay. Once they have walked on it, or slept on it, it's as good as straw. The keyhole feeder was supposed to alleviate that.

We wired the wood into the corner, so that it cut off a triangle section of the pen, and we put the hay behind the plywood.

We didn't count on Ernie jumping behind the wood, and into the sweet little alfalfa bed that we made for him. Of course, this served many of Ernie's ulterior motives, such as keeping Bert from eating alfalfa, ruining copious amounts of good hay, and making us steaming mad. Oh, add into that our worry that he would cut himself on the wires that were behind the wood (holding it to the pen).

This past weekend we decided to fix Ernie's wagon. I took the plywood and constructed a heavy box, with a lid on it. B even shored it up, as the first thing that Ernie did was jump onto the box like it was his throne. We also added a locking latch to the gate, so they can't push the gate apart from the gatepost anymore. Oh, and because the box puts Ernie another 3 feet off the ground, we added another length of fence on that side of his pen. It's probably at least 10' high now! He can't jump it.

I swear that Ernie is angry with me now. He is making this angry little baaa noise when he sees me, and he doesn't answer when I call his name.

I'm sure I'll be back in his good graces soon. After all, I am the food lady.

Censored? Not here!

Okay, one of my new year’s resolutions was to censor less on my blog. I know that certain people read my blog (hi all of you!) so I am careful about what I write. Not that I have bad things to say, but as Eileen would say, my need for approval is evident. I may think something, but I don’t want to offend, or I wonder what people would think of me.

Originally, I started my blog as therapy. If you notice, I am quite anonymous—I don’t mention my location (just general), or my name, or my company, etc. If you wanted to find me, you couldn’t (I hope). My blog is just the general ramblings of a woman who was transplanted to paradise from the suburbs.

However, the word has gotten around, so my friends and family visit. And generally, that’s okay. But I like to keep relations between my friends and family friendly. So I don’t write about things that might offend.

But, by doing that I am not being true to myself. This is MY blog, MY vent, MY space to compose. If my writings offend you, I would not be upset in the least if you chose to refute my ramblings either in my comments section, or on your own blog. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and this is just the venue through which I share mine.

A fact that my cousin Mike will confirm, as he has really given me some things to chew on about farmers, and I greatly appreciate the dialogue that he continued with me. It was really good, and I am glad that he chose to comment on my writing and question me on my opinions. : )

By the way, you can make a comment in the comments section by clicking below the entry, and you can remain anonymous! So all of you 3000 people that have visited me, SPEAK UP!! At least let me know why you keep coming back!

Okay, and now my vent:

The recent news of the government spying on private citizens is shocking to me. I have nothing to hide—I’ve done nothing wrong. For that reason, I feel as though I deserve to be left alone and to have all of my constitutional rights respected.

Think about it: the government has legislated for years on privacy: the Freedom of Information Act, the Financial Modernization Act (requiring financial institutions to adhere to privacy standards), the Fair Credit Reporting Act, and even the Children’s Online Privacy Protection Act. These acts are in addition to the basic premise that allows personal privacy, as noted in the Fourth Amendment.

I did a little checking, and I found that the Supreme Court had ruled on this very same issue in 1968. In Katz v. United States, the Court found that: The Government's duty to preserve the national security did not override the guarantee that before government could invade the privacy of its citizens - it must present to a neutral magistrate evidence sufficient to support issuance of a warrant authorizing that invasion of privacy. This protection was even more needed in ''national security cases'' than in cases of ''ordinary'' crime, the Justice continued, inasmuch as the tendency of government so often is to regard opponents of its policies as a threat and hence to tread in areas protected by the First Amendment as well as by the Fourth. Rejected also was the argument that courts could not appreciate the intricacies of investigations in the area of national security nor preserve the secrecy which is required.

You can find the complete explanation of the proceedings here. (http://caselaw.lp.findlaw.com/data/constitution/amendment04/05.html#f151)

I think, in the wake of 9-11, all of us were beside ourselves with concern for our country’s and our personal security. I have to admit, I was fearful of flying, and even worried about trips to large cities. However, as the immediate fearfulness dies down, logic prevails, and we now need to stop and look at what is being done in the name of national security!

It is horrific enough that people are being profiled as security risks by the color of their skin and the origin of their names. We are now finding out that the President took it upon himself to authorize the wiretapping of anyone and everyone—superceding the Constitution, and a Supreme Court ruling on this very issue.

Have you bought a car lately? We bought one after 9-11, and we were asked for our drivers’ licenses so they could photocopy them. We were also required to furnish same when we bought a house, and also when we opened a separate checking account for the farm. Each time it was explained that the relationship and/or transaction was being disclosed to the government as per the requirements set forth in the Patriot Act.

You know, all of these things in and of themselves really aren’t that big of a deal. Come on, you pay taxes, all of your private information is out there and linked with your social security number. The government KNOWS YOU. But where do they draw the line? They could encroach little by little until we look around and say, “How the hell did it get to this point?”

I don’t want you to think I am one of those people who worries about this constantly, who is ready to barricade the borders of my farm and secede my own little plot of land from the US. Not at all!

But something came to my attention lately that has caused me to reflect upon all of this collective “government in my business”:

The NAIS. The National Animal Identification System.

If you have never heard of the NAIS, it was quietly instituted back in 2004, for implementation by 2009. It is a national program intended to identify specific animals in the United States and record their movement over their lifespans. It is being developed by the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) and State agencies. Animals will be tagged with radio frequency ear tags (or other RFIDs), and they will be tracked.

The premise is to track animals that could be sick, or animals that might have been exposed to bioterrorism. Many of the press releases that mention the NAIS specifically mention the BSE (mad cow disease) threat and the potential for this system to track the animal’s movements and exposure for its life. (As an aside, the total number of people in the WORLD that have died from vCJD [the human disease caused by mad cow disease] is about 150—think of that in relation to the number of people that have died from dog bites [20 per year] or the flu [36,000 per year]).

It isn’t just the big producers that will be required to tag their animals (in fact, “Big Ag” will not have to tag its animals, they can just create a premises ID and estimate the number of animals they have—in my opinion defeating the USDA’s proposed purpose), nor will it just be animals that are designated for meat. They will require cattle, swine, sheep, goats, horses, poultry, bison, deer, elk, llamas, and alpacas to be tagged. If you read the information that is provided on the USDA’s website, they say that not all animals need to be tagged, only those animals that are “commingled.” They define commingling as an animal having contact with, or being inter-mixed with, animals other than herdmates from that animal's premises of origin. While on the surface that may seem to mean “only if the animal leaves your premises,” remember that an animal may leave your premises if it is going to the vet, or on a trail ride, or to a show, or if you sell it. So if you sell that animal at any time, it must be tagged. Think of it this way: the only way you will get away with NOT tagging your animal is if it is born and lives its entire life on your premises, without ever leaving the property.

In my opinion, the government doesn’t even have much luck running the postal service, so what makes them think they can run a national animal ID program? And for what purpose? A valid reason, in my opinion, has not been established, and given the other privacy issues that have recently come to light, it is a little scary.

Remember, consumers will see the implications! I have ranted previously about the narrow profit margins for farmers, and now this is one more cost for them to incur in the process. Not only that, but if there is a perceived increase in liability (if you trace an illness back to my herd and I have to destroy my entire herd, kind of thing), then consumers will see the costs increase. There may even be insurance implications that could be costly and passed along to consumers.

For me, it just goes against common sense. Come on, I’m over here, just trying to mind my own business and keep my pets until I have the guts to raise real animals for business. Suddenly the government is saying that everyone, myself included, has to ear tag their animals with a radio frequency ID so that they can track every step of that animal’s life? Come on! What about those people who are reclusive and just want to raise their animals for their own food? If they bought that calf from the farmer down the road, it needs to be RFID-ed.

Breeders do keep records of their animals. Responsible animal owners keep extensive records for their animals, and would have no problem tracking illnesses. Those of us with registered stock tattoo our animals and register them with the appropriate organization. I have a database of my animals, and I record everything in there- birth, vaccination dates, manufacturers of the vaccinations, hoof trims-- everything. There are also government programs that require registration, such as scrapies eradication, that are currently in force, and folks can choose to participate. Or NOT. And that, there, is the key. The NAIS program will be mandatory.

The other shoe to drop is the registration of people who purchase animal food. This falls under the Bioterrorism Act. Now, there are certain exemptions for who needs to keep records but it will be mandated that feed is tracked, and the paper trail be documented from the time that the seed is sold to the farmer, from the growth process, to the feed mill, to the feed store, and then to the consumer. The information on this is vague, but some interpretations suggest that even dog and cat food will need to be tracked, and people who purchase it will be entered into a national database. There are already feed stores who are requiring customers to furnish name and addresses for the government database.

I’m just wondering WHY?

Okay, my rant is done for the evening. Feel free to comment—I’d love to dialogue about this.

P.S. I’d like to see Uncle Sam out there in his stripey top hat trying to catch Joe Llama so he can ear tag him.

URGENT: THIS JUST IN...

CAFE PRESS IS HAVING A SALE! IT'S LIKE $5.00 OFF OF THE HOODED SWEATSHIRT! SUCH A DEAL...

WHAT??

Okay, I admit to being old, and out of the hip lingo scene. B played Quake years ago, but to the best of my knowledge, he didn't play online. So, we were both shocked to learn that our newest species' name is being blasphemed:

Llama: A term coined by American McGee, formerly a level designer at id software. This is the Quake-lingo version of lamer, loser, idiot, etc etc.

Well, Joe, you're no llama in our eyes.