Burning the Candle at Both Ends

It is another one of those weeks. We are just swamped with things to do, since we are showing our goats this weekend. I am so nervous about it! I think I clipped Aurora too short, and Cindi is too wild and bossy, and oh, well, we'll just have to see. I have a shopping list a mile long, and have to stop for something on the way home every day after work.

Work? What's that? Something I try to ditch as often as possible, but for some reason they just don't seem to understand when I don't get my stuff done...

I will definitely take pictures this weekend, hopefully we'll have a ribbon or two to show for it. In any case, and I totally mean this, we will have a most excellent judge. It's a small town, county fair, non-ABGA sanctioned show. But the judge is an ABGA sanctioned judge, who really wants people to succeed. He has given impromptu clinics following shows before, so I am hoping for a lot of good insight to help me with the show on September 9th. L will show his goat, and I am just as excited and nervous for him as I am for me.

I am also working on a new business website for our farm. My mom brought me some gorgeous, really high quality business cards, and I have been handing them out. So I want a webpage that really looks slick to go along with the professional image we're trying to present. I'm enjoying it, but it is way time-consuming. I'm composing it in Joomla, which is something I know *nothing* about. Although I know a little now... : )

Happy Monday.

Burning the Candle at Both Ends

It is another one of those weeks. We are just swamped with things to do, since we are showing our goats this weekend. I am so nervous about it! I think I clipped Aurora too short, and Cindi is too wild and bossy, and oh, well, we'll just have to see. I have a shopping list a mile long, and have to stop for something on the way home every day after work.

Work? What's that? Something I try to ditch as often as possible, but for some reason they just don't seem to understand when I don't get my stuff done...

I will definitely take pictures this weekend, hopefully we'll have a ribbon or two to show for it. In any case, and I totally mean this, we will have a most excellent judge. It's a small town, county fair, non-ABGA sanctioned show. But the judge is an ABGA sanctioned judge, who really wants people to succeed. He has given impromptu clinics following shows before, so I am hoping for a lot of good insight to help me with the show on September 9th. L will show his goat, and I am just as excited and nervous for him as I am for me.

I am also working on a new business website for our farm. My mom brought me some gorgeous, really high quality business cards, and I have been handing them out. So I want a webpage that really looks slick to go along with the professional image we're trying to present. I'm enjoying it, but it is way time-consuming. I'm composing it in Joomla, which is something I know *nothing* about. Although I know a little now... : )

Happy Monday.

It’s a Pizzle, fo’ shizzle

Yep, this post will not be for the squeamish or prudish. Because if we can talk about poop, we can talk about male anatomy.

It’s just a curious thing, as a relatively new livestock owner, to see how these animals behave.

First it was the stallion. Of course, he is “ready and willing” at a moment’s notice, and that was to be expected. We could both handle that. And that he was so, um, aptly equipped, was also something that was not a shock—he IS a horse, and there is some truth to that age-old expression… But I digress.

One day we were wondering what on earth he was doing, as he was standing in the corner of the pasture, just chilling out with his head down, and his, um, “Little Major” very much awake. After a few minutes, it was apparent: self-gratification. But, mind you, he can’t REACH it. So the whole thing was over with in a few moments, with him just moving it strategically. B was quite impressed, and I think his actual quote was, “WOW. No hands. That.Is.Some.Skill.”

But I digress again, as this discussion is about goats. Isn’t it always about goats?

So wethers are just like girls, for the most part, in their behavior. They all do try and mount each other for pecking order, but that is no big deal. Our kids have coined the term “doing the victory dance.” Which is quite appropriate. Who will be victorious as the one in charge?

But bucks. Well, bucks are a different animal altogether. They are known for their rude sexual behavior. I remember studying about satyrs in art history, and they are half goat and half man, and are symbolic of sexual prowess (and “drunken revelry” as McGraw Hill defines it). So the goat image is appropriate.

While goats can reproduce all year, they do have a mating season which begins, funnily enough, right about now. Bucks go into rut, and they stink to high heavens. Frankly, I don’t think Wolfgang stinks all that badly right now, though I am told to expect much worse. I think I can handle it if it doesn’t get too much worse. To me it doesn’t really stink, it smells a lot like a dairy smell, like a cow barn. But right now it’s not too intense.

Another of their attractions to the female is that they constantly pee on everything, mostly themselves. They have an “attachment” called a pizzle, and it helps them, notsomuch aim, but actually create a fine mist of spray that covers everything around it. They have a knack for successfully aiming for their beards. Why goat chicks find that impressive, I don’t know. But they do.

So why do I feel compelled to discuss this? Well, I am preparing Wolfie for an upcoming show in September, and I am trying to work the rudeness out of him. After a few days, he is really cleaning up nicely (behavior-wise). I will get a fitting stand tomorrow and will clip him and bathe him and see what else we need to do to get him tip-top before the show. But yesterday I recall *twice* thinking that he was amazingly calm as I coached him to stand with his head on my knee and pose for the (imaginary) judge. And both times, I looked down to find him spraying all over my shoes and ankles.

Let me just state for the record, that if you pee on me, I reserve the right to blog about your anatomy.

The Rollercoaster

The year's four seasons, for me, are like a rollercoaster. Winter is somewhat at the low point. There are such good things about it, it's cozy, I love the snow, and the scenes are always magical. I love sledding and snow days and Christmas, and all of the fun things that come with it. I hate the dark days, with sunrise coming so late and sunset here before you know it. I hate breaking ice buckets in the barn, and worrying about the animals being so cold. I hate the bare trees, except when they are snow-covered, and I despise the bitterly cold days when it is subzero.

Spring is starting up the hill, rich with anticipation, looking forward to the thrill of being at the top. It's such a change from the winter, not just in that it's green vs. brown, but in the significance of that. Out of death and hibernation comes new life, and all the promise that it holds. Spring at our house is crisp air with warm sun, and lots of dew in the morning. It smells like damp hay and freshly cut grass, and horsehide. I appreciate it for what it is, but to my fault, I also appreciate it very much for what it signifies: Summer is coming.

For me, summer is the thrill. I think it stems from childhood, because some of the things that I *say* make me happy are really not true. For example, I say that summer is lazy and worry free. Umm, No. Not at my house now. Summer is crammed with plans, alternating with boring days that the kids spend at home (making me worry about what they will get into). Summer is desperation in finding a perfect childcare solution, it's extra money for daycare and more trips to the grocery store. It's a huge shift in schedule that is stressful on everyone. The days I remember as being warm and sunny are often oppressive and sticky. The animals are plagued with flies, and the manure can sometimes smell. Stalls should be cleaned daily to remove what attracts flies, and that work is always sweaty and dirty. Summer is starry nights and hammocking, and cookouts and staying up late. Not if you get up at 5:30 to work in the barn and then go to work. (But obviously, I like to pretend.)

Coming down the big thrilling hill is fall. I am still loving the weather and the routine, since the kids are back in school, but the peak is over, and the low point is ahead, which always makes me a little sad. The crisp nights discourage the flies, and in the mornings you can see your breath. The changing leaves are a sign of what is to come, and they always inspire me to take walks, lately with my camera in hand. Fall means Thanksgiving, my second favorite holiday, and football, and baking, and cozy kitchens, and canning and good smells. It means winterproofing and "battening down the hatches" and settling into the routines. And I love all of that.

For me, sadly, the craziest month of my year at work is October. So I am very busy, and unable to enjoy most of those things about fall. But this year, I think I am going to try and mentally adjust the peak. Maybe it should be right about now...

The kids are back in school, the days aren't quite as hot, but there are still plenty of warm days to get work done. The routines are back, and with the fall schedule comes some semblance of sanity. Fewer worries when the kids are at school, and reasonable expectations all around.

Soon it will be breeding time! Cindi will go on a date with Wolfgang, and we'll have even more spring babies. We are hoping for twins from the three does that will be bred (Cindi and the two does coming from our friends).

I am really going to try and love the winter for the break it provides, and the rest that it gives. We certainly need that-- and should look forward to it.

Oh, guess what I did... I went and entered my first show! It's September 9th, so start crossing your fingers now. I will show Wolfgang and Aurora. Luna is too tiny and fragile (arrgh) at this point, to show. She needs to beef up a little (or is that "goat up a little"?). We are also showing at a nearby county fair next Friday-- that's just 9 days away. Yikes!! L is showing his dairy goat, and I will show Aurora. No buck classes there, so Wolfie will stay home. B and I (and L) are frantically coming up with stall decorations and trying to put together all the supplies we'll need.

I'm getting old

I know that I am getting old because:

First, I would make a mistake, and not learn from it.

Then, I would make a mistake, but make a note of the lesson and do my best not to do it again.

Now, I try to learn from others' mistakes. I do make plenty of new ones on my own, but I still try to avoid those that others have made, if they share them with me.

At this point, however, I am doing things like I am elderly. A few weeks ago, our neighbor offered to sell us his horse very cheap, because he was moving. Now, I had fed the horse in the past, and I had spent a little time with him. I knew he was a nice horse, and had a nice, easygoing disposition. Our neighbor is our feed guy, so I knew the horse was well cared-for, and as neighbors, we had discussed things in passing, so I knew that the horse had regular vet and hoof care. The horse wasn't trained, though, so that was a big negative, but he was offering it very cheaply to us because he said that he knew the horse would get excellent care and attention (that was a nice compliment, even without the discount).

Now, I have always been horse crazy. My father attests to this day that he has seen horse crazy, and I am miles beyond that, approaching on "horse psycho." I asked for horses for every holiday, every birthday, every christmas. Every wish I made on a star, when I blew out the birthday candles, when I pulled the wishbone-- ALL were that I could have a horse. We lived in town, so that was pretty much out of the question. I did have riding lessons, and I did other activities that would allow me to be around horses as often as possible, but I wanted my own.

It subsided a bit later in life-- or should I say that it was overshadowed. I am not quite sure it ever subsided. But now that I am out where I can have horse(s), I just need the money, and B's blessing, to buy them and they are mine. No logistics to stop me.

And we *have* horses, but they are not mine. Technically they are everything *but* mine-- M doesn't check up on them, I ride when the spirit moves me, we care for them as our own. But they are *NOT* mine. And it is a big difference, at least to me.

So, my heart jumped at the chance to own my own horse, when our neighbor offered him to us at such a low price.

For about five seconds...

Okay, seriously, it was a few days. But in the end, we logically decided that it would be better to put that money into a goat. Even though the price was rock bottom, that was the better part of a goat purchase, and if that is our farm's business focus right now, we need to move forward with that. So, with a smidge of reluctance, I told our neighbor no thank you.

Fast foward a month...

We are caring for our neighbor's horses while he moves. I think they will be here a few more weeks or so, but it should not be long-term (famous last words). Since this horse moved in, the horse that was almost mine, I have been SO GLAD that I did not agree to buy him! He is dumber than a box of rocks! In his defense, I think that it is a combination of my high expectations after working with a beautifully trained animal, and his lack of understanding of my high expectations. But it has not gone well. I was nearly trampled a couple of days ago, and this morning he just could not figure out that I wanted him to go into the paddock to eat. This has been the routine every morning, so it's not new.

But I guess when you're young, everything's new.

I am SOOO glad that I said no to buying him. I would be tearing my hair out right about now.

Things I Learned at the State Fair

1. Battered, deep fried snickers bars are really not that good-- they are just one of those things that are so over the top. You know, like something that someone would use to (unsuccessfully) try to impress someone else.

2. If you are wearing a shirt that says, "I'm an Asshole" I'm likely to believe you.

3. If you are showing a lot of skin, people are going to look at you. And it may not be the kind of looks you are soliciting.

4. In that same vein, the more skin you have, the less you should show.

5. Large hair, that which might be used to smuggle familes across borders, is not in style. In fact, it has been out since the 1980's. However, some people are unwilling to accept this fact.

The fair was a great learning experience.

Oh, and our "mentor" (of sorts) won a gazillion classes at the show today. They were premier breeder (they bred the most winning goats, regardless of who owns them now), and they won premier exhibitor, meaning that they won the most awards. Their goat prices just went up! Woo hoo! We'll have three of their babies when it's all said and done.

Call me weird, but...

Maybe it's because I'm a transplant, or maybe it's because I am just strange. But each year our state fair tries to top the last year for something shocking "on a stick." Everything there is on a stick, the joke is that at some point they will figure out how to put soup on a stick. First there were some good ideas-- they have this giant turkey leg (it looks deep fried), but that's kind of on a stick. Then they put a pork chop on a stick. That's a good idea, too. Of course, we have corn dogs, and they have invented a chili dog that has the chili inside the cornbread, so you can have a chili dog on a stick. Okay great.

But then, there is always someone that take it a little too far. Someone who ruins it for those who are innocent. That happened when they started battering and deep fat frying things like twinkies and snickers bars. Yep, they stick a snickers in some corn bread batter, put it on a stick, deep fat fry it, dunk it in some sort of sugar water mixture, throw a little powdered sugar on it, and for $3.00 you can have a heart attack on a stick! Each year they try to top the last year, and so far I know of (and maybe there are more) a battered and fried twinkie on a stick, hostess cupcake, snickers, milky way and reeses peanut butter cup.

I had not had any of this, but yesterday I went to the fair with a friend, who told me that this was the equivalent of manna, and that I must have it. I admit, I had been curious, but really was not sure. So I went for it and got the snickers.

It was way overrated. It was roughly on the order of a s'more-- melted chocolate with a breaded crust. But it was way too much, and after I ate it I felt gross. I will not be trying any other varieties, but I would consider the pork chop, as it is not breaded or deep fat fried. And I understand that it has been voted the favorite fair food!

Today I am going to the meat goat show. We'll see how that goes! I saw a lot of goats yesterday, and am encouraged-- Aurora could easily compete with them. I may show her in a couple of weeks at a different show.

Today is the last day of the fair, and we got to go four times. We're down a little from last year. : ) But hey, it rained all week.

Luna's Recovery

You know, all the knocking on wood that is done around here is about as fruitful as banging your head against the wall. As I type this, I am taking frequent breaks to knock on wood...

Luna has recovered from her tummy troubles. She is back on her feed, and I no longer have to work from home while bottle feeding her. I frequently refer to the goats as toddlers with horns, and I was proven correct again as I had to wrassle her and chase her around to catch her to stuff the bottle's nipple in her mouth. She pursed her lips tightly so I could not get it in, she let most of the (expensive) colostrum dribble down her face, and she would often jerk her head back quickly so she could hit me with her horns. She chewed one ($4.00) nipple beyond servicibility, and just when I resigned myself to using a second one, and had cut the hole and put it on the bottle, she decided to eat solid food.

But I am thankful that she is healthy again. I was worried about her!

Biting the Hand That Feeds You

Something like that isn't a good idea.

The horses that we are caring for on a very limited basis live outside most of the time. They are not as friendly (as a rule) as the other horses that we care for. Certainly not as friendly or needing as much human interaction as Major. There is one, Waco, that does like people, but he has personal space issues.

Waco is only 2 and is still growing. His owner asked if we could feed him twice a day. That is no problem, we feed 2x a day anyway. But we don't feed the horses, since in the summer we have a pasture full of tasty grass. Nobody needs grain in the summer unless they are working hard or not an easy keeper. Neither is the case with those that we care for. Except Waco.

Typically I take the grain outside in a bucket, and Waco knows the drill-- he runs into the paddock, where I close the gate and let him eat in peace, before everyone else tries to push him away. Waco is the low guy on the totem pole, so he loses the battle every time.

Yesterday Major was already in the paddock, so Waco didn't have anywhere to go. I was trying to yell at Major to get out, but Waco was trying to get at the bucket in my hand. It got more intense, until Waco was slamming his body against me, trying to get the grain. The situation was worsened by the immense amount of mud that was in our pasture (just outside the barn door), so I was afraid of being pushed down in the mud and trampled. I smacked Waco with the bucket, and he had the nerve to turn his butt around at me and kick at me with two back feet!! If I would have had some good footing, I would have beat the daylights out of him. But I was scared of falling.

So I did what I don't like to do. I went inside and got a big old whip. And I cracked it. And I liked it.

And I was instantly in charge.

incommunicado

Well, not completely. I have the internet, thank God! But something is wrong with our telephone, and our cell phones are useless at our house (we live in a big limestone valley).

Initially, I checked out the phone junction box outside, and determined that the wiring the previous owners used to run from the box to the house was, in fact, interior wiring. The jack coming out the wall leaves some to be desired, as well, since it isn't connected to the wall and just hangs from the wiring. So, for $2.50, I bought 50 feet of exterior phone cable and for another $2.50 a new jack. Easy and cheap fix.

Well, a cheap and easy fix if you are not Mrs. Murphy, and your family's law always applies...

BUT, I have been Mrs. Murphy for many years now, and I know full well that the law always applies, so before going to all of the trouble to pull the wiring and install the jack, I decided to take a short length outside, install the jack, and see if it worked. It did NOT! It was so crackly, I could hardly hear the dial tone.

So I called the phone company, and the repairman just left. Turns out that the cable between the box and our house has to be replaced. At leat I didn't run that cable for nothing! I will do it, it needs to be replaced, but sometime when I'm less booked up.

Sign in the local Hardware Hank: Husbands choosing paint colors require a signed note from their wife.

Hey, remember me?

I can’t believe it has been so long since I blogged. But how many entries did I start out that way?

I have so much updating to do, where should I start? You’d better go grab a drink and a snack, cuz this will be a while.

Work, schmurk. I am sick of being away from home. I am really investigating the Tomboy Tools option to see if it will be a lucrative part-time venture while I try to build up my goat herd. B really wants me to quit, my therapist is screaming about how detrimental the job is to my mental health. And I agree. But what can you do? Nothing will happen quickly, just because I am wiser in my old age, and won’t just up and quit.

It’s coming up to my busy time, so we’ll see how that goes. Hopefully I can maintain some semblance of sanity.

So enough about work.

It’s State Fair time! We have gone only once this year, so far anyway. I expect that we’ll go tomorrow through the weekend. I was disappointed to learn that the draft horse show that we have loved for the past few years is no longer one long day (which seemed like minutes for us). They are breaking it up to a few different classes each day. So when we went a couple of days ago we saw them lining up to go into the pavilion and took some photos. If you have never been close to a draft horse, they are immense. Often the back of a horse is taller than 6’ so a typical man can’t even see over the back. Their feet are as large as dinner plates, and that is not an exaggeration. They make Major look like a toy horse. I took a photo of a man bathing his Percheron, so you can see how tall the horse is in relation to the man. The man was not a small man.





I did also have a chance to look through the photography salon at the fair. As you may know, none of my photos were selected. I did have a vindicating moment a week or so ago when a professional photographer looked at my photos and said that she thought they were outstanding. We had a lengthy discussion about the placement and what made them look good. These were hard copies that she looked at, so I felt good—they all look good on the internet! At the fair, they had just over 1000 photos on display, those that were selected to exhibit. They had 200 that actually won ribbons, everything from champion to honorable mention. There were nearly 4000 photos that were submitted. They selected about 30% for exhibition. One thing I noticed was that the colors were really intense. I don’t mess with the colors in my photos much, but it was obvious that they wanted bright, bold colors. There were photos that took my breath away, and there were photos that I thought were fine, and then there were those that I thought mine superceded. So at least I feel that I have a chance at being selected to exhibit next year. I’ll definitey try again. And each year they have one class that deviates from the usuals: still life, people, black and whites, etc.. This year the theme was one-room school houses. Next year it’s winter wonderland. Now THAT I can do!!

The family is great. It’s nearly back to school time, and we couldn’t be more ready. Fortunately, it’s still warm, so unlike when I was a kid growing up in WI (and starting school a few weeks later), we don’t need to go out and buy jeans and sweaters. We do have all the school supplies bought and packed up for next week. L starts football practice on Monday, and today we check out all of his equipment.

This past weekend B and I canned a bunch of produce from our garden. We did buy other produce and canned it, too. We made bread & butter pickles, stewed tomatoes, salsa, peach sauce and strawberry sauce. We didn't do much of each, but we did end up with quite a stash. We will have an abundance of tomatoes, so now that we have the hang of it, we will get busy canning! Here is a photo of some of the fruits of our labor:



Last weekend we went to my 20th high school reunion. It was quite the trip, let me tell you. I was part of the planning team, so it was nervewracking for me. I think I shocked most of them when I told them that I was a goat farmer. Of course, I prefaced it all with discussion about my “day job” but I did bring photos of the goats!

And speaking of the goats, they are mostly great. MK was so awesome to feed them while we were out of town last weekend, and they all (including MK) survived just fine. I missed them terribly, though!

However, this past Friday, Luna (the newest baby), developed scours (diarrhea). That can be problematic, or it can be something she ate—too much grass, too much grain, just a tummyache, etc. So I gave her some probiotics. That encourages the natural flora in the animal’s rumen, and can sometimes stave off an intestinal issue. By the next day she was not any better, so I immediately started treatement for coccidiosis. There are always coccidia present in the gut, but an abundance of them can be detrimental. It can be deadly for kids. So I started the treatement, and she responded immediately. Again, those antibiotics can upset the natural balance of bacteria in the rumen, so I continued with the probiotics. All was fine. Until yesterday, when she stopped eating! I gave her a shot of B complex yesterday (to encourage appetite), but no luck. She had been off feed for 24 hours today when I finally called the vet. I took a sick day from work, and I am now feeding her calf colostrum every 2 hours by bottle. Ugh, what us goatmoms don’t do for our babies. I hope she perks up.



I have found instructions on the internet on how to do my own fecal tests. Goats are extremely susceptible to worms, and those worms are very commonly immune to some of the more popular wormers. With horses, for example, you worm every few months for a particular kind of parasite, and it’s a preventive if the animal doesn’t have a parasite load. However, with goats, you want to find out if your goat is infected, and if so, exactly what type of worm it has, and then treat only for that type of parasite. You run a much lower risk of the worms becoming immune to the poison. And that word, poison, is also the reason that you don’t worm preventively in animals that you eat. We raise these animals so carefully, so that we don’t have hormones or too many antibiotics, etc. It only makes sense that we carefully choose which medicines they take, and avoid giving anything unnecessarily. So, I will be doing a fecal test on Luna today. I have a microscope and everything. We shall see!!


The other goats are great. Wolfie is great, growing his beard and turning into quite a young buck. He is making all of his girlfriend-attracting noises and doing the gross things that girl goats are attracted to. So all is well with him.



Cindi is doing fine, we are hoping that L will show her in a nearby county’s fair just before Labor Day. I am possibly going to show Aurora also. I am so nervous about that prospect!!



Aurora is doing well, gaining weight and looking great. I am really, really pleased with our purchase of her. She is sassy, healthy, vocal, and if she is a good mom, she will be the total package of near perfection. I can’t wait to see how she does.



Ernie is Ernie. Silly, fun, always talking, and just a great guy. Especially since he is now dehorned.



I had some amazing and exciting news the other day, which was confirmed last night. My “mentor” in this goat operation approached me about a “partnership.” I was hesitant at first, since we have put out mucho cash so far and are staying put with our herd for the time being. But they have too many goats, and what they proposed is that they will bring us does that are bred. We care for the does all winter, and when they kid in the spring, they will get the pick of the litter, typically a twin. If there are triplets, or an odd amount, then a price will be fixed for the offspring. We get the other kid. Basically, they come to the table with the bred doe, and we come to the table with the space to keep them and the feed all winter. It is totally a win/win situation. I trust these people so implicitly, they have such an interest in the market and the industry, and are just genuinely good people. They have an impeccable reputation in the state, and can not keep their sale goats around long. They always have customers. I am honored that they would ask me to partner with them, and can’t wait to get the does. That would be a way to increase our herd by two or more goats by spring. Let’s just hope for girls!!!

So all is well in the barn.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention that our neighbor, our feed guy, has taken a job out of state. He has left, sadly, and has no place for his horses at the moment. During his move we have agreed to horse sit for them, so they are here keeping Major company. I think it will just be for a few weeks until he is settled, but we don’t mind the company. They stay outside all of the time anyway, though if they stay for any length of time during the winter, we will have to figure out a solution. They need some shelter, which they don’t have much of (just trees) outside.



So, that’s that! I hope to be around more from now on. Hope you enjoy the photos.


American Gothic for the New Millennium:

Could I be a tomboy?

OMG, check this out:

Apparently it's been around for a while, but I haven't seen it until now. Say goodbye to selling Tupperware, Mary Kay, Avon, Pampered Chef and all that. Hello TOMBOY TOOLS. Wow, this could be my calling when I leave the executive job behind and become a full-time goat farmer...

Socking this stuff away for a rainy day.