Okay, I don’t really believe that, but I do think that, with the exception of having babies and peeing sentences in the snow, tasks can generally be interchanged between the genders. Tasks that require tremendouis physical strength may tend to be more successfully carried out by men, for example, but by and large both genders can pretty much tackle tasks equally.
I was thinking about this the other day, as we went to a “caprine industry event” and heard a goat farmer talking about marketing and his customers. He was saying that he had individuals that came and butchered on the farm, and he had learned a great deal about their cultures and practices. He spoke very highly of them, and remarked that his and his family’s lives had been enriched because of these interactions with those of other faiths and nationalities, and that he was proud to have furnished the goat that facilitated those interactions.
One thing that he mentioned, however, is that in some cases, the men will come to purchase and/or butcher the goat, but they refuse to transact business with his wife. He said that often they will not even speak to her on the phone—not even to confirm an arrival time, or ask for directions. The speaker noted that in their culture(s) they cannot transact business with a woman.
For me, this poses somewhat of a problem, since the goat operation is primarily mine. I have an amazing amount of support and help and contribution from B, but if you want to know how much we feed, or what we use to worm, or who was vaccinated with what when, you ask me. I am involved in the day-to-day operation, and B is part of the decision-making process and direction of the venture. So, when it comes to fixing a price based upon market value, plus what we have invested into the animal, you would need to ask me.
I have often reflected on how I was brought up. My dad is a truck driver, and when I was younger, my mom had to run the house when he was gone. She ran it when he was home, too! I have always had an example of an independent woman, so I am very independent myself. Not only that, but my father has reinforced htat in me. I used to struggle quite a lot in math (well, let’s be honest, I still do!), and my dad would work with me whenever he could to help me understand. They supported me when I went out for sports teams, and encouraged me to pursue my interests when I headed off to college. There was never an expectation (or lack thereof) because I was a woman.
In fact, the other day I had this very conversation with my dad:
Dad: Hey, did you and B ever get that lawnmower running?
Me: Yeah, but it’s hit or miss. It starts sometimes, but not others. I know you told B you thought it was the starter, but he hasn’t had a chance to take the engine apart to see. You know, it’s interesting, he dives right into a lot of DIY projects, many of which he hasn’t done before. But he’s told me that he just doesn’t feel comfortable with small engine repair. I think it will come with time—after all, you need to know that on a farm! But for now, he’s just not comfortable.
Dad: Why don’t YOU become the expert in small engine repair?
Well there ya go. Just do it myself, and why not??
So, to think that a potential customer would not feel comfortable doing business with me is just mind boggling! That they would eat the fruits of my labor, but could not hand the money over to me, or haggle with me over a price, is just a very unfamiliar and even unsettling concept.
Of course, I will be respectful of that, and B can transact business just as well as I can, but I have really spent a great deal of time mulling this over and trying to make sense of it in my head.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Sixteen
It's been sixteen years that I have been married to the love of my life. Lucky, lucky me.
He sent me these sixteen roses on Friday. Are they not lovely?
Not a day goes by that I don't thank God for such an amazing man.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Chevon Castle
Is this not the best goat digs ever??? B did a marvelous job giving all the kids their own space, and extra space to boot.
Notice that great construction-- nothing is going ANYWHERE. See the feeders and water buckets? We designed the stalls so everyone could have their water and food refilled from the outside. We can't do that with hay, unfortunately, since putting the hay too close to the buckets means dirty water buckets too frequently. But the rest is down to a science. The opening allows them enough room to put their head outside the stalls, but not the rest of their body (keeps the poo out of the feeder, too, which cuts down on worm infestations).
The white PVC pipe outside of each stall holds minerals. There is a little part that sticks into the stall so the goat can eat it whenever it wants. One is mineral, and the other is baking soda. Baking soda is like "goat tums" and helps prevent bloat or other tummy troubles.
Notice the black kitty by the far pen (Wolfgang's pen). Our goats have their own kittens.
Big pat on the back to B. He's the man. ; )
Introducing Aurora!
Click on the photo for a slideshow of our newest baby, Aurora. (Click here just to see the photo set, if you aren't able to view the slideshow.)
We brought her home on Sunday, and she is finally settling in. It's taking some time, as she's quite skittish. Cindi did not take so much time, but she was also bottle fed, and loved to be loved on. Aurora is skittish, and misses her old herd.
She was born on March 24, so she is just a few months old. I would estimate her weight to be about 45-50 pounds.
In other developments, Ernie hurt his foot, and while at first we thought it might be broken, I think it was just a very painful bruise. He is now walking on it, and seems to be much better. On the other hand, you know the old joke about if something hurts, then just hurt some other body part worse, and the first pain will seem insignificant? Well, his other horn came off, so he has a massive head wound there! The first horn site is virtually healed over, and he doesn't mind being touched on that side of his head. He is obviously favoring the second side. And maybe that's why he's walking around on his foot! Doesn't seem so bad now! But seriously, I gave him a vitamin b shot and he was much better after that. I can't tell you the significant difference I have seen in goats who have been "under the weather." Give them a Vitamin B shot and they are up running around like they are in tip top condition. Do people get Vitamin B shots?
It's in the high 80's today, and the flies are MISERABLE. They are much worse than they have ever been. I'm going to go to Menard's this afternoon to buy some more fans for the animals, and also to see if they have any sort of gizmo/gadget/miracle to ease the fly problem. This year we have more animals, so it stands to reason that we'd have more flies. I have the fly traps, the fly paper, even a funky fly sprayer that automatically sprays ever 15 minutes. It seemed to work well at first, but now seems useless. I bought some diatomaceous earth, and hope to begin feeding it to the animals-- if it is in the poo, then it is effective when they lay eggs and the larvae hatch. The fly spray that we've used for years is not phasing them one bit, and even the Repel-x that I bought last year as "The Big Gun" is acting like a water pistol this year.
Speaking of guns, the neighbors' dog was outside the other night, probably about 11 pm when B and I were watching a movie. We were all snuggled on the couch, L was sleeping (M is in San Diego, visiting grandparents), and the dog chased a car down by our house. Of course, all of our windows are open, and he can hear voices from the tv. He begins to bark and bark and bark and bark... and it goes on for over 1/2 hour. While he is off of their property, he is across the street and not on our land. But he may as well be, since he is virtually right outside of our door. My dad happened to call, and I was venting to him, and he suggested firecrackers! I am SO buying some!! My dad is great, isn't he? I will keep you posted on the outcome...
We brought her home on Sunday, and she is finally settling in. It's taking some time, as she's quite skittish. Cindi did not take so much time, but she was also bottle fed, and loved to be loved on. Aurora is skittish, and misses her old herd.
She was born on March 24, so she is just a few months old. I would estimate her weight to be about 45-50 pounds.
In other developments, Ernie hurt his foot, and while at first we thought it might be broken, I think it was just a very painful bruise. He is now walking on it, and seems to be much better. On the other hand, you know the old joke about if something hurts, then just hurt some other body part worse, and the first pain will seem insignificant? Well, his other horn came off, so he has a massive head wound there! The first horn site is virtually healed over, and he doesn't mind being touched on that side of his head. He is obviously favoring the second side. And maybe that's why he's walking around on his foot! Doesn't seem so bad now! But seriously, I gave him a vitamin b shot and he was much better after that. I can't tell you the significant difference I have seen in goats who have been "under the weather." Give them a Vitamin B shot and they are up running around like they are in tip top condition. Do people get Vitamin B shots?
It's in the high 80's today, and the flies are MISERABLE. They are much worse than they have ever been. I'm going to go to Menard's this afternoon to buy some more fans for the animals, and also to see if they have any sort of gizmo/gadget/miracle to ease the fly problem. This year we have more animals, so it stands to reason that we'd have more flies. I have the fly traps, the fly paper, even a funky fly sprayer that automatically sprays ever 15 minutes. It seemed to work well at first, but now seems useless. I bought some diatomaceous earth, and hope to begin feeding it to the animals-- if it is in the poo, then it is effective when they lay eggs and the larvae hatch. The fly spray that we've used for years is not phasing them one bit, and even the Repel-x that I bought last year as "The Big Gun" is acting like a water pistol this year.
Speaking of guns, the neighbors' dog was outside the other night, probably about 11 pm when B and I were watching a movie. We were all snuggled on the couch, L was sleeping (M is in San Diego, visiting grandparents), and the dog chased a car down by our house. Of course, all of our windows are open, and he can hear voices from the tv. He begins to bark and bark and bark and bark... and it goes on for over 1/2 hour. While he is off of their property, he is across the street and not on our land. But he may as well be, since he is virtually right outside of our door. My dad happened to call, and I was venting to him, and he suggested firecrackers! I am SO buying some!! My dad is great, isn't he? I will keep you posted on the outcome...
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Photos
I need your help!
I have decided, with some encouragement from others, to enter some of my photos in the Iowa State Fair photography competition. I have selected my favorites and put them into a set. Click on the link below for the slideshow.
Photo Slideshow
If you can't view slideshows (this problem was recently brought to my attention), click here to view the photos one at a time, in a set.
Photo Set
Which ones do you like best? I can't decide!
Thanks. : )
I have decided, with some encouragement from others, to enter some of my photos in the Iowa State Fair photography competition. I have selected my favorites and put them into a set. Click on the link below for the slideshow.
Photo Slideshow
If you can't view slideshows (this problem was recently brought to my attention), click here to view the photos one at a time, in a set.
Photo Set
Which ones do you like best? I can't decide!
Thanks. : )
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Llama Trauma
It has been so hot here lately that we knew the inevitable was coming: Joe would need to be sheared. So we put pencil to paper and decided that we could probably do it ourselves with an initial (hefty) investment for some "Shearmaster" clippers.
As an aside, I have some Oster clippers that I use to clip the dog and the horses, and let me tell you, there is a colossal difference. I was thinking that maybe I could try the Osters, but knew that once we started we couldn’t go back, so I didn’t want to go through all of that trauma only to have to stop halfway. Well, there was no comparison, the Osters wouldn’t have even cut an inch of this fur. That is why people charge $50 to shear your llama—it’s a job for the person and a job for the clippers. The Shearmasters are literally the size of my forearm, and they are built to run for extended periods of time. The Osters would have burned up if I left them on for the 45 minutes or so that it took to shear him.
Saturday we went out for some supplies and stopped at the grocery store. You remember, the beautiful store to which I hate to go… Anyway, B and I nearly busted out laughing when the checkout girl (a teenager), said, “So, you guys have any big plans for the weekend?” I’m sure she anticipated us chirping about our plans for a family gathering at the park, or a cookout, or even the excitement of a graduation party. I’m sure “We’re going to shear our llama” was not the response she expected. So we left it unsaid. But we should have said it…
I have asked B to make a llama chute so that Joe would be safe. However, we have hemmed and hawed about that because it is a lot of work for a contraption to be used once a year. And where will we store it? So it didn’t get built. Instead, we rigged up a sort of chute using a livestock gate. It was actually fine, except that when llamas are frightened, for some reason their instinct is to lie down. So they put supports under the llama’s body so that they cannot lie down. It’s definitely difficult to shear a llama when he’s lying down in a small space. Instead, we used a board, but it was at a small angle, and Joe ended up kicking it over. So that was not a good solution.
He has the most amazingly soft fur, and the Shearmasters worked a treat. It did take forever, however, and he struggled the entire time. I was drenched in sweat after finishing, and I bet if llamas could sweat, Joe would have been sweaty, too. But because he can’t sweat, well, that’s the reason we sheared him in the first place.
Here is a photo of the newly nekkid Joe Llama:
As an aside, I have some Oster clippers that I use to clip the dog and the horses, and let me tell you, there is a colossal difference. I was thinking that maybe I could try the Osters, but knew that once we started we couldn’t go back, so I didn’t want to go through all of that trauma only to have to stop halfway. Well, there was no comparison, the Osters wouldn’t have even cut an inch of this fur. That is why people charge $50 to shear your llama—it’s a job for the person and a job for the clippers. The Shearmasters are literally the size of my forearm, and they are built to run for extended periods of time. The Osters would have burned up if I left them on for the 45 minutes or so that it took to shear him.
Saturday we went out for some supplies and stopped at the grocery store. You remember, the beautiful store to which I hate to go… Anyway, B and I nearly busted out laughing when the checkout girl (a teenager), said, “So, you guys have any big plans for the weekend?” I’m sure she anticipated us chirping about our plans for a family gathering at the park, or a cookout, or even the excitement of a graduation party. I’m sure “We’re going to shear our llama” was not the response she expected. So we left it unsaid. But we should have said it…
I have asked B to make a llama chute so that Joe would be safe. However, we have hemmed and hawed about that because it is a lot of work for a contraption to be used once a year. And where will we store it? So it didn’t get built. Instead, we rigged up a sort of chute using a livestock gate. It was actually fine, except that when llamas are frightened, for some reason their instinct is to lie down. So they put supports under the llama’s body so that they cannot lie down. It’s definitely difficult to shear a llama when he’s lying down in a small space. Instead, we used a board, but it was at a small angle, and Joe ended up kicking it over. So that was not a good solution.
He has the most amazingly soft fur, and the Shearmasters worked a treat. It did take forever, however, and he struggled the entire time. I was drenched in sweat after finishing, and I bet if llamas could sweat, Joe would have been sweaty, too. But because he can’t sweat, well, that’s the reason we sheared him in the first place.
Here is a photo of the newly nekkid Joe Llama:
Friday, June 02, 2006
Keeping you posted
There is much to report these days! B and I have been very busy preparing our barn and farm for two new doelings that we bought. We went last weekend on our quest, and did not return empty handed. Actually, we did return empty handed, and also empty bank-accounted. :) The farm account doesn't have much money, it always has its hand out begging us for money...
We bought two little does, and they are not yet weaned. We bought them from two different farms, and will return in a few weeks to pick them up. It has been interesting to look at how other people do things, or don't do things. We are taking lots of notes about how we will and won't do business. It's very interesting.
I have photos of the two girlies, as yet unnamed. They are not good pictures-- the first girl was going potty when I took her picture-- the only way I could get her standing still!! When we bought the other girl, I had left my camera at home, so all I could get was a far away shot with my cell phone cam. Of course, when they come to live with us, you will have more photos than you ever wanted.
Jane Doe #1
Jane Doe #2
The garden is in and growing. Here are some pictures of the plot, and some of the corn and a cool bean sprout. Amazing how fast they grow! We planted corn, peas, beans, carrots, tomatoes and strawberries. We'll see what we get!
I've had some time to take a few pictures lately, here are some I took last night. I especially like the ones with the funky sky over the hay field.
We bought two little does, and they are not yet weaned. We bought them from two different farms, and will return in a few weeks to pick them up. It has been interesting to look at how other people do things, or don't do things. We are taking lots of notes about how we will and won't do business. It's very interesting.
I have photos of the two girlies, as yet unnamed. They are not good pictures-- the first girl was going potty when I took her picture-- the only way I could get her standing still!! When we bought the other girl, I had left my camera at home, so all I could get was a far away shot with my cell phone cam. Of course, when they come to live with us, you will have more photos than you ever wanted.
Jane Doe #1
Jane Doe #2
The garden is in and growing. Here are some pictures of the plot, and some of the corn and a cool bean sprout. Amazing how fast they grow! We planted corn, peas, beans, carrots, tomatoes and strawberries. We'll see what we get!
I've had some time to take a few pictures lately, here are some I took last night. I especially like the ones with the funky sky over the hay field.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
I'll Not Tolerate Rudeness
One of my big complaints about living in the suburbs, and even when I lived in Phoenix and Chicago, is that everyone is very me-centered and busy. I remember coming back from living in England and really and truly being astounded that people couldn’t at least return their carts to the cart places in the parking lots. Like they were just SO busy on their way from the Wal-mart that they couldn’t take 45 seconds to scoot their cart back to the little corral. But those people would be the same ones to be angry if and when someone else’s stray cart banged into their cars. Or they would drive around for 10 minutes looking for a parking place really close to the store, when they could have come in and out in that time.
Now I’m not perfect, and I am sure I do some of those things to some extent. But I know that I have not gone completely over to the dark side yet, because I still notice them, they still bug me, and when I lived in suburbia, it was those types of things that drove me away.
So Monday was the first day of summer vacation for the kids, and they were home alone. (See the above snake story.) I had too many calls that day to referee (he hit me, she is bossing me around, he won’t do his work, she’s making me breakfast I don’t want to eat… and on and on and on and – feel my pain yet??). So I stopped at the store on my way home. The final breath I could take before opening the door into the lions’ den. I didn’t exactly hurry, even though I hate that store.
Now, let me just paint a little picture of that store. I hate it because it’s the Beautiful People Store. It’s a grocery store chain, and there are plenty in not-so-beautiful neighborhoods, but this is one in a new, upscale neighborhood. It has a Starbucks, a huge deli, a video rental, a large liquor store, a pharmacy. Quite the beautiful one-stop-shop. It’s the last one in the burbs before you hit the country, so it’s where we shop. It’s about a 20-25 minute drive from our house. My feelings alternate when I go in there—I NEVER feel like I fit in, but either I am walking around very self conscious about my hick appearance, trying to blend in, or I purposely put on my barn boots and overalls and walk around checking out peoples’ reactions to me and my traveling stank.
Monday I was just trying to fit in, and since I was in my work clothes, I did okay.
I got up to the checkout, and was taking the items out of my cart, when I realized that the kids hadn’t called me in the 25 minutes I had been shopping. No, that CAN’T be right! I fished my phone out of my purse, and saw that they had called three times and I missed their calls. Fearing that this would be the one time that the kids didn’t cry wolf, I punched the button and called them back. Right there in line.
Now, if you remember why I hate the burbs, it’s the me mentality, and the disconnect from others. So it is my SUPREME, GRANDIOSE, HUGEST, GIGANTICIST pet peeve to see people chatting away on their phones in line, in the drive through, in the store, totally oblivious to the people that are around them IN REAL LIFE.
So I am in the line, and I am being hypocritical.
Imagine my surprise and horror and shame when the bagger (a teenage boy) came over to me, and actually said, (and I’m quoting, because this scarring situation is forever branded and seared into my memory), “Ma’am, you just keep talking on the phone. I’ll empty your cart for you.” And he proceeded to TAKE ALL OF MY STUFF OUT OF MY CART WHILE I CHATTED ON THE PHONE.
No, I take that back. He really did say that, but there is no way in hell that I would let the story be told like that. First, I winced, like he had just right-hooked me. Because it was that shocking. I mean, here he is ENCOURAGING people to be rude. And being so nice about it!! So I hung up the phone immediately, of course, and told him that I should be paying attention to my shopping, and that if folks couldn’t take 2 minutes to go through the grocery line without the phone jammed into their ear canal, then perhaps they needed to rethink their priorities. And that instead of offering to help them unload their carts, that next time he suggest that they stop talking and pay attention to what they are doing. And I took my own stuff out of my own cart.
He looked at me a little puzzled. And with a sort-of grin on his face. I’m not sure what he was thinking—like, “Yeah, that’s what I think, too, but I can’t tell that to customers” or “This woman has just escaped from the home, and she is completely loony and unfit to be roaming in public” or even, “Jeez, I tried to help her out and she’s lecturing me on how not to be nice.”
Anyway, had I worn my overalls, he probably would have just looked at me and understood.
Now I’m not perfect, and I am sure I do some of those things to some extent. But I know that I have not gone completely over to the dark side yet, because I still notice them, they still bug me, and when I lived in suburbia, it was those types of things that drove me away.
So Monday was the first day of summer vacation for the kids, and they were home alone. (See the above snake story.) I had too many calls that day to referee (he hit me, she is bossing me around, he won’t do his work, she’s making me breakfast I don’t want to eat… and on and on and on and – feel my pain yet??). So I stopped at the store on my way home. The final breath I could take before opening the door into the lions’ den. I didn’t exactly hurry, even though I hate that store.
Now, let me just paint a little picture of that store. I hate it because it’s the Beautiful People Store. It’s a grocery store chain, and there are plenty in not-so-beautiful neighborhoods, but this is one in a new, upscale neighborhood. It has a Starbucks, a huge deli, a video rental, a large liquor store, a pharmacy. Quite the beautiful one-stop-shop. It’s the last one in the burbs before you hit the country, so it’s where we shop. It’s about a 20-25 minute drive from our house. My feelings alternate when I go in there—I NEVER feel like I fit in, but either I am walking around very self conscious about my hick appearance, trying to blend in, or I purposely put on my barn boots and overalls and walk around checking out peoples’ reactions to me and my traveling stank.
Monday I was just trying to fit in, and since I was in my work clothes, I did okay.
I got up to the checkout, and was taking the items out of my cart, when I realized that the kids hadn’t called me in the 25 minutes I had been shopping. No, that CAN’T be right! I fished my phone out of my purse, and saw that they had called three times and I missed their calls. Fearing that this would be the one time that the kids didn’t cry wolf, I punched the button and called them back. Right there in line.
Now, if you remember why I hate the burbs, it’s the me mentality, and the disconnect from others. So it is my SUPREME, GRANDIOSE, HUGEST, GIGANTICIST pet peeve to see people chatting away on their phones in line, in the drive through, in the store, totally oblivious to the people that are around them IN REAL LIFE.
So I am in the line, and I am being hypocritical.
Imagine my surprise and horror and shame when the bagger (a teenage boy) came over to me, and actually said, (and I’m quoting, because this scarring situation is forever branded and seared into my memory), “Ma’am, you just keep talking on the phone. I’ll empty your cart for you.” And he proceeded to TAKE ALL OF MY STUFF OUT OF MY CART WHILE I CHATTED ON THE PHONE.
No, I take that back. He really did say that, but there is no way in hell that I would let the story be told like that. First, I winced, like he had just right-hooked me. Because it was that shocking. I mean, here he is ENCOURAGING people to be rude. And being so nice about it!! So I hung up the phone immediately, of course, and told him that I should be paying attention to my shopping, and that if folks couldn’t take 2 minutes to go through the grocery line without the phone jammed into their ear canal, then perhaps they needed to rethink their priorities. And that instead of offering to help them unload their carts, that next time he suggest that they stop talking and pay attention to what they are doing. And I took my own stuff out of my own cart.
He looked at me a little puzzled. And with a sort-of grin on his face. I’m not sure what he was thinking—like, “Yeah, that’s what I think, too, but I can’t tell that to customers” or “This woman has just escaped from the home, and she is completely loony and unfit to be roaming in public” or even, “Jeez, I tried to help her out and she’s lecturing me on how not to be nice.”
Anyway, had I worn my overalls, he probably would have just looked at me and understood.
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