tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43337642632670357272024-03-13T02:30:09.895-05:00HighTail FarmsBig Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04527230954979575296noreply@blogger.comBlogger308125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-9834399640139855012018-03-05T21:50:00.001-06:002018-03-05T21:50:32.505-06:00Lamb SurpriseIt's been a heck of a long time since I posted anything, but I thought I would jump right in with a little story from this morning on the farm. My mother is currently visiting. She came out to give me a hand with morning chores this morning. I was wearing Elliot on my back since he's just old and mobile enough to cause himself great bodily injury if left unattended in the house for more than five minutes<br />
<br />
We'd taken care of the mule and all the goats that live up front by the house. We were out at the barn, and mom had gone out back to let the birds out when I heard a weird sound. It was the call of a sheep in distress or discomfort. I wheeled around and immediately spotted a sheep on the ground. A closer look revealed that it was Emily, one of last year's lambs, and she was pretty obviously in labor. I could just see the white tips of a newborn lamb's hooves peaking from her backside. This was a real surprise because we were pretty sure we were done lambing for the year. We figured Emily was just a bit to young to catch during breeding season. Apparently we were wrong.<br />
<br />
As I watched, she got up and laid down again, alternately pushing and resting. I could just see the two little hooves and a nose appearing and disappearing again as she pushed. I called mom to come quick so she wouldn't miss this lamb being born. We stood and watched and waited, but momma wasn't making any progress. The stuff hanging from her backside looked suspiciously dry, like she'd been pushing quite a while. She was looking very tired, and I was pretty sure we would have a dead lamb on our hands if it had been stuck as long as I suspected.<br />
<br />
I decided to intervene. It was pretty obvious that this lamb was trying to come out with its front legs tucked back. It's front legs and nose were trying to emerge at the same time which jams up the shoulders and makes it a lot harder for them to pass through the birth canal, also called an elbow lock. I'd seen it before in the goats. I got Elliot out of the carrier and handed him to Mom. I knew I would have to chase this ewe as she was one of our least tame ladies, and I really didn't want to stress her any more than she already was. I moved slowly and after a short chase, I was able to grab a back leg and then the rest of her. I carefully and gently laid her down on her side and used a knee to keep her from getting up and running off again.<br />
<br />
At this point, Emily had sucked that baby back up and almost out of sight. I waited a few seconds for another contraction for the feet to emerge then slowly pulled one leg and then the other forward. It took quite a few pushes for the nose and mouth to emerge again. I hadn't felt any resistance or movement from the lamb as I pulled so I was sure we were dealing with a stillbirth at this point, but to my surprise and delight I saw that wet little nose twitch and the little tongue move! It was alive!<br />
<br />
Momma pushed and I pulled those legs with one hand while carefully pushing back her vulva with the other. That baby was stuck but good! It took what seemed like forever, but eventually little eyes then ears emerged then the whole rest of the lamb sprung free! Momma laid flat out and closed her eyes, totally exhausted. The lamb hadn't even fully cleared her back end, but she did not care. I let her rest for a bit while that wet bundle of limbs that was the newly born lamb flopped around in the dirt trying to get it's bearings in this giant new world.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FM706Y9bxs4/Wp4FwkfDXMI/AAAAAAAAx0c/Oagxvypc7xE6qbmZ9_ldcxryxd-0Got3ACKgBGAs/s1600/20180305_112149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FM706Y9bxs4/Wp4FwkfDXMI/AAAAAAAAx0c/Oagxvypc7xE6qbmZ9_ldcxryxd-0Got3ACKgBGAs/s640/20180305_112149.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Eventually Emily came around and started talking to and cleaning her baby. Once she was on her feet, I got her and the lamb penned up in an enclosed area where no one could bother them with some fresh food and water. It was only after all was said and done that I thought to check the sex of the little one. It was a male, and a pretty one too. Dark brown with a mottled white face and small splotches of white on his body. We decided to call him Finnian. It wasn't long before he was on his feet and looking to nurse. We left mom and baby to do their thing.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SR5pRi8usMM/Wp4F4BQk-eI/AAAAAAAAx0g/xYtArocyg5EwjYvwEb6dXCL4-9I1gVjbwCKgBGAs/s1600/20180305_113643.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SR5pRi8usMM/Wp4F4BQk-eI/AAAAAAAAx0g/xYtArocyg5EwjYvwEb6dXCL4-9I1gVjbwCKgBGAs/s640/20180305_113643.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
That evening little Finnian was nursing great and hoping around like little fool, and mom was happy to get some extra grain and hay for all her hard work.<br />
<br />
It occurred to me that this not the first or even the second birth that Elliot has witnessed in his short life. This kid is going to grow up knowing exactly where babies come from in very graphic detail, and I think that's pretty cool.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k9gzTjfjzQE/Wp4F_0tW4UI/AAAAAAAAx0k/_YDe63FizO0x25GFDPs3pzLya2md9wv9ACKgBGAs/s1600/20180305_114213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k9gzTjfjzQE/Wp4F_0tW4UI/AAAAAAAAx0k/_YDe63FizO0x25GFDPs3pzLya2md9wv9ACKgBGAs/s640/20180305_114213.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-83550232548141482362017-11-20T10:07:00.001-06:002017-11-20T10:07:41.317-06:00Currently not in business ...For those of you who may be looking for holiday turkeys or other products, we are not currently offering anything for sale. When we relocated to North Carolina we scaled down our operations and will be staying relatively low key for the time being.<br />
<br />
If you are looking for a locally produced turkey or other produce, I highly recommend using<a href="https://www.localharvest.org/" target="_blank"> Local Harvest</a> to find a small farmer near you. If you are in Louisiana and searching for something, I would recommending contacting <a href="https://hollygrovemarket.com/" target="_blank">Hollygrove Market</a>.<br />
<br />
We wish you the best of holidays!Big Onionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15828663940095148052noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-6687692131677552072017-04-03T12:47:00.000-05:002017-04-03T12:55:58.812-05:00Swim fetch fun <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /><iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/hxhm049JBTE/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/hxhm049JBTE?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<br />
After expertly moving all the sheep and goats out of the back pasture, Rialey got to play some swim fetch in the pond.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_hUjr5xbytQ/WOKEQ6ZxIXI/AAAAAAAAdeo/VW3Ne3oWxYMunfpGegAJ0Xl82T9hqRFmQCKgB/s1600/20170403_123247_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_hUjr5xbytQ/WOKEQ6ZxIXI/AAAAAAAAdeo/VW3Ne3oWxYMunfpGegAJ0Xl82T9hqRFmQCKgB/s400/20170403_123247_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Then the thought occurred to me, what if something went wrong, and I had to go in after her. Rialey's a great swimmer, but there I was standing there with a 7 month old strapped to my back. Although Elliot has been taking swim classes, I'm not sure he's quite ready for an inter-species water rescue. I guess we'll stick to dry land play for a while.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nAeMT7qw8co/WOKEQ6Nx7eI/AAAAAAAAdeo/D5_-DXLhqWQh3on3iNf9A_FhvF8usFz2ACKgB/s1600/20170403_122816.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nAeMT7qw8co/WOKEQ6Nx7eI/AAAAAAAAdeo/D5_-DXLhqWQh3on3iNf9A_FhvF8usFz2ACKgB/s400/20170403_122816.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-40929770770271518392017-04-02T17:52:00.000-05:002017-04-02T17:52:46.908-05:00North Carolina Sheep Day <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This Saturday we decided it was high time we had a "sheep day." This is a day where we gathered up all the sheep for health checks, get weights on the lambs, and just generally make sure that all is well with the flock. This is something we did weekly at our old place because there seemed to always be at least one sheep or lamb who was doing poorly and needed deworming at the very least. Since we have moved to North Carolina, the sheep have been doing so well that we didn't feel the need for such hands on care. Still, we have 8 lambs on the ground now, and it was time to get our hands on them. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uPX4aZbbVvA/WOF1NgVODHI/AAAAAAAAdcA/DBgdq7QO4XkBSN-vGQksM4sVRIw2adEvwCKgB/s1600/20170401_132112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uPX4aZbbVvA/WOF1NgVODHI/AAAAAAAAdcA/DBgdq7QO4XkBSN-vGQksM4sVRIw2adEvwCKgB/s640/20170401_132112.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
First order of business was to figure out which lambs belonged to which mommas and get them marked for easy identification. Anthony then checked the color of everyone's mucus membranes around the eyes to make sure no one had any serious issues with parasites. They were all nice and pink!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X3SAsHwBHQg/WOF1NvJobLI/AAAAAAAAdcA/VUCwZYyJPWc6vdm3e6NP6Xzu7dB3LCkswCKgB/s1600/20170401_130414_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X3SAsHwBHQg/WOF1NvJobLI/AAAAAAAAdcA/VUCwZYyJPWc6vdm3e6NP6Xzu7dB3LCkswCKgB/s640/20170401_130414_HDR.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
<br />
Anthony's sister Theresa was in town visiting so she helped us get weights on all the lambs. I'm excited to report that the lambs are thriving in their new home so far. They are far and away outgrowing last years lambs. The real test will be in a few months when they are weaned and eating on their own. In previous years, this is when we have run into problems with the lambs. I'm hoping the milder temperature and far better pastures up here will help protect them in that stressful period.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kXVvMu81HmM/WOF1NgVojDI/AAAAAAAAdcA/fd-cHs79CVQid7AlwOvyIvmiane8pnW1ACKgB/s1600/20170401_125845.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kXVvMu81HmM/WOF1NgVojDI/AAAAAAAAdcA/fd-cHs79CVQid7AlwOvyIvmiane8pnW1ACKgB/s640/20170401_125845.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Fred and Rialey are still BFFs. He stole an opportunity to get some snuggles in while Rialey held the sheep in a corner of the barn for us.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ACOBzHHspLQ/WOF7sYbe0AI/AAAAAAAAdcc/n4j0QT5-hkUSGGt2gbnwMoYiKrKq-VePgCKgB/s1600/20170401_134413.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ACOBzHHspLQ/WOF7sYbe0AI/AAAAAAAAdcc/n4j0QT5-hkUSGGt2gbnwMoYiKrKq-VePgCKgB/s640/20170401_134413.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Once we were done checking the sheep, we decided to go for a walk around the pond and down to the lake. We moved the sheep into the back pasture to let them graze the lush, untouched grass that is growing back there.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h-b_EJIihIk/WOF1Ng0WsiI/AAAAAAAAdcA/MxCQZ3Fivp4jYrwkvWRox9xKOzYS6n_mgCKgB/s1600/20170401_134141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h-b_EJIihIk/WOF1Ng0WsiI/AAAAAAAAdcA/MxCQZ3Fivp4jYrwkvWRox9xKOzYS6n_mgCKgB/s640/20170401_134141.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
The weather was beautiful and Elliot was enjoying the fresh air and sunshine from the safety of the carrier on my back.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ua1dGmLkD6U/WOF1ilBOy5I/AAAAAAAAdcI/jwDveEfNzDskUD8TsxYGwOuxc0v1vP3KgCLcB/s1600/17621930_10102237944748038_7656205309622467496_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ua1dGmLkD6U/WOF1ilBOy5I/AAAAAAAAdcI/jwDveEfNzDskUD8TsxYGwOuxc0v1vP3KgCLcB/s640/17621930_10102237944748038_7656205309622467496_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The lake is so beautiful with clear waters and everything turning green all around. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6nrVTq0kNPY/WOF1NoQ0frI/AAAAAAAAdcA/AkWb4XVY0q8M7HSYq0b88No2ZY-oTyDyACKgB/s1600/20170401_133036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6nrVTq0kNPY/WOF1NoQ0frI/AAAAAAAAdcA/AkWb4XVY0q8M7HSYq0b88No2ZY-oTyDyACKgB/s640/20170401_133036.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
And apparently we have <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1hqklWJxUTo" target="_blank">beavers</a>!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-56329844351865507942017-03-20T18:54:00.000-05:002017-03-20T19:06:53.985-05:00Saying goodbye to Piro<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;">Early on Sunday morning we said goodbye to Piro, my sweet kitty boy. He was only 10 years old.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixt-vG8CUoCWeRUOayGKMp-dCivUNTDGMv7dPrQKGxymcfXoEk0-5lL9V2wcBhAHXbFdovZxNDvV26Vw98S_YyyjhYdhBOoQXI7UE1VZQl51ybuaad6LY65oyIH-Y9LHUcxUjImhoZo4k/s1600/DSC_9455.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixt-vG8CUoCWeRUOayGKMp-dCivUNTDGMv7dPrQKGxymcfXoEk0-5lL9V2wcBhAHXbFdovZxNDvV26Vw98S_YyyjhYdhBOoQXI7UE1VZQl51ybuaad6LY65oyIH-Y9LHUcxUjImhoZo4k/s640/DSC_9455.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;">Back when I was working for the library, I was helping host a meeting of a local amine club. I remember we were watching a show called Kanon. During the show, one of our regulars, a girl probably around 10 or 12, came in with a couple kittens. She'd found them on the side of the road in the local neighborhood. They'd basically been left in a ditch. She was going to keep one and give the other to a friend. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvXnQI7sDj0KF1_MKvajVaJ1HB_5Ypwz7zxhQXBIqMuY02GVU-fLVi7323jSlnVB5GHPZQJwQL9Vi6PUq0VoixtUnrVWG-6Zzy9UY7JRD9DQqlzL45vqMgjvKGUoTL1nHc75tafja6wg/s1600/IMG_2956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvXnQI7sDj0KF1_MKvajVaJ1HB_5Ypwz7zxhQXBIqMuY02GVU-fLVi7323jSlnVB5GHPZQJwQL9Vi6PUq0VoixtUnrVWG-6Zzy9UY7JRD9DQqlzL45vqMgjvKGUoTL1nHc75tafja6wg/s400/IMG_2956.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;">Eventually anime club ended, everyone left, and the library closed. We were cleaning up when there was a pounding on the back door of the meeting room, a door no one ever used. I opened the door to see the girl standing there with one of the little fluff ball kittens. She thrust the tiny thing into my hands, said, "My mom won't let me keep this!," and ran off. I was left standing there with a confused look on my face and a tiny kitten in my arms. I took him home with me with the intention of finding the little guy a home with someone else. I decided to call him Piro after the kitten in the show we were watching that day.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OCeaBuCley4/WNAZpmRI_YI/AAAAAAAAcYk/0nK1r2K9XEYDq1M7DotlITGqoWDCaxsDwCPcB/s1600/IMG_2963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OCeaBuCley4/WNAZpmRI_YI/AAAAAAAAcYk/0nK1r2K9XEYDq1M7DotlITGqoWDCaxsDwCPcB/s320/IMG_2963.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmOI2sio5JNUN7yTrcn0Yr9vuvAvw03zlrl5Mvq3uWQTFkIzwLa6l2EclXSh_G2D5Itp3h3M1l4-vSoi9jWyT8srIJPxgu0aka8I0dDOHV_N7AG3LsuQR65K8UxhBssUMMqQ_g9HoLQY/s1600/0515070738.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmOI2sio5JNUN7yTrcn0Yr9vuvAvw03zlrl5Mvq3uWQTFkIzwLa6l2EclXSh_G2D5Itp3h3M1l4-vSoi9jWyT8srIJPxgu0aka8I0dDOHV_N7AG3LsuQR65K8UxhBssUMMqQ_g9HoLQY/s320/0515070738.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;">Well, as you can probably guess, the little guy stayed. Luna fell in love with him and adopted him as her own. He took to eating raw like a champion and clawed his way into our hearts. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7rHZsJo_rjdbTCpuqTCKYQxQ1DNkZH1hWej3wFNj7mqP42PdGFPGpzHsnMkjYWjwcEk75UD_Tyc9AhmJfryiA63vKZPH2bqVSo42iQQwFNUAGuUY4mzzSmGRkUYIgAIKi0RASCJwUgNo/s1600/DSC_9087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7rHZsJo_rjdbTCpuqTCKYQxQ1DNkZH1hWej3wFNj7mqP42PdGFPGpzHsnMkjYWjwcEk75UD_Tyc9AhmJfryiA63vKZPH2bqVSo42iQQwFNUAGuUY4mzzSmGRkUYIgAIKi0RASCJwUgNo/s400/DSC_9087.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;">Piro grew up to be the sweetest cat. He loved being scratched around the head and neck and would fall over sideways while rubbing his face against your hand. He must have had some Persian in him because he ended up with a huge, puffy coat that I would sometimes shave down, leaving him a lion's mane and fluffy tail. He would snore when he slept. He also had chronic mild urinary issues that resulted in him peeing on anything and everything left on the floor. No rug, dog bed, or dirty laundry was safe. He taught us the hard way to keep the floors clear!</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiychkj__liR7VVHetZcJo-QrG05pk0-p1Z4EBpztwo-uUulnxeEzjaMIuhV0g5a8SIW3GcdvrVWljrdpxW6byJXAXS9yNLo6_4EcFXs5HJ3oEUjgA43dWxLuFf1uHgJFFRr6gmq2N_RU/s1600/DSC_6281.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiychkj__liR7VVHetZcJo-QrG05pk0-p1Z4EBpztwo-uUulnxeEzjaMIuhV0g5a8SIW3GcdvrVWljrdpxW6byJXAXS9yNLo6_4EcFXs5HJ3oEUjgA43dWxLuFf1uHgJFFRr6gmq2N_RU/s400/DSC_6281.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;">More recently he and Rialey developed the sweetest relationship. They had a morning ritual. He would jump up in the bed just about every morning and clean Rialey's head, licking carefully around her ears and nibbling on her ears. For her part, Rialey would hold perfectly still not even turning her head if we called her name. We said Piro was giving her a case of cat paralysis, and she loved it. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCCVtfkcn69sdjK2s4gR96KWKlvt0GUrLRvDrMjCfUpoZNBTGfpHDGxaTxGFBWvIieG_hUcQwoyK5o8sxRNwYbtdUWiNn09PJOgra8a2yHtQZwLBFABLb6xNaUdRS7HVDSR09BpjiEHQQ/s1600/DSC_9450.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCCVtfkcn69sdjK2s4gR96KWKlvt0GUrLRvDrMjCfUpoZNBTGfpHDGxaTxGFBWvIieG_hUcQwoyK5o8sxRNwYbtdUWiNn09PJOgra8a2yHtQZwLBFABLb6xNaUdRS7HVDSR09BpjiEHQQ/s400/DSC_9450.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;">Of all my animals, it was Piro who there for me when I most needed him. Unusual for a cat, he would sense when I was having a hard time and just be there with his furry little paw on my knee or shoulder. When Anthony and I first got together, Piro would climb up onto his chest, put his front paws on either side of his neck, and look him dead in the eye as if to say, "You hurt her, I kill you." </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8WM8PzcIShM/WNAZpsWGo-I/AAAAAAAAcdc/uJVIo0Avi20FDMM_WbrWkRdhx4trTJFdACPcB/s1600/P3171164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8WM8PzcIShM/WNAZpsWGo-I/AAAAAAAAcdc/uJVIo0Avi20FDMM_WbrWkRdhx4trTJFdACPcB/s400/P3171164.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;">The last month or two his appetite had been dwindling. We went to the local vet, tried antibiotics, fluids, anti-nausea meds. We also tried some natural remedies, oils and homeopathics. We did bloodwork, xrays, and ultrasounds. Nothing seemed to help, and the vet wasn't certain of the cause. He just wouldn't eat. He lost a little weight, but generally seemed ok. As a last resort, we tried steroids, and he just crashed. The weight melted off of him until he was skin and bones. He was desperately thirsty and still eating poorly. One more trip to the vet for more testing, and she concluded that we were looking at large cell lymphoma, a fast acting cancer that seemed to have spread to most of his major organs. She recommended euthanasia and sent us with pain meds and fluids. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;">Even though it was a couple months in total, it felt so quick. He was doing ok, then he just wasn't. I wish we could have done more, but if it was cancer I guess there wasn't much else to do. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;">I'll miss my little man. My tuxedo clad pee monster. My sweet headbutting fluff ball. He was one cool kitty cat. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQO4MGQ9Q8keZhn_CEZfXQRdK-XrhzFyfaPXkSCIiQeJNPXRh3X4Tpn4Kow0cwdWiOFlXZrowRduRF4P9Sm0sPanFOUYRNs1lhBgdpHZi0hTo_gchYtRML0UY9R_hOAuxNrzsZYl3JLc0/s1600/DSC_9085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQO4MGQ9Q8keZhn_CEZfXQRdK-XrhzFyfaPXkSCIiQeJNPXRh3X4Tpn4Kow0cwdWiOFlXZrowRduRF4P9Sm0sPanFOUYRNs1lhBgdpHZi0hTo_gchYtRML0UY9R_hOAuxNrzsZYl3JLc0/s640/DSC_9085.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">
<span style="color: #222222;">\</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "times new roman"; text-align: start;">
<br /></div>
Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-43229208330678366462017-01-30T10:42:00.000-06:002017-01-31T10:50:00.464-06:00Cowvan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WRw9APqREJI/WJC9u5bOCbI/AAAAAAAAYdY/owaNI9tPPWAUVKhB4Ba1J_KO5gjfB3qEgCKgB/s1600/20170130_145744.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WRw9APqREJI/WJC9u5bOCbI/AAAAAAAAYdY/owaNI9tPPWAUVKhB4Ba1J_KO5gjfB3qEgCKgB/s400/20170130_145744.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Ran into this weirdness while out running errands. Better pictures <a href="http://www.strangecarolinas.com/2016/06/cow-van-greensboro-nc.html" target="_blank">here</a>.Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-39496152381775465422017-01-29T23:03:00.000-06:002017-01-29T23:03:23.175-06:00Naps<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
All along I've said that Elliot is a very middle of the road baby. He's not the kind of easy baby that sleeps through the night and endlessly amuses himself during the day. On the flip side, he's also not the kind of baby who required endless rocking and walking the floors.<br />
<br />
With him, it almost always boils down to just two things, gas and naps. As he's gotten older and I've learned what in my diet causes him issues, the gas has become less and less of a problem. I mean he still toots like a grown man on taco night, but the gas doesn't cause the same kind of pain and suffering for all of us.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wc6oIXY7gCo/WI7Izyo9NbI/AAAAAAAAYZg/Yzw2PRYsk-cuFdrxn_IBY005OlRW6rkZwCKgB/s1600/20170129_235545.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wc6oIXY7gCo/WI7Izyo9NbI/AAAAAAAAYZg/Yzw2PRYsk-cuFdrxn_IBY005OlRW6rkZwCKgB/s400/20170129_235545.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<br />
This just leaves naps. From the beginning, Elliot was not a great sleeper. He's not terribly difficult to get to sleep. If the timing is right, few minutes of walking and bouncing and singing boring songs usually does the trick. The problem is that he doesn't stay asleep. If left to his own devices, during the day he will nap for about half an hour at a time. My mother has solved this problems by spending many, many hours holding and rocking and soothing him into sleeping for 2-3 hour stretches. This has the advantage of getting him the hours of sleep he should have, that he needs but the disadvantage that little boy has never learned to sleep on his own. Plus his Mawmaw won't be around forever. Pair this with the fact that he was sleeping snuggled in the bed with me at night, and we have a baby who just cannot sleep on his own.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Aipbi82N4t0/WI7I3_Ex_FI/AAAAAAAAYZk/eLjBJNXGTQI2UYBrDupViLrJBuMDlON5wCKgB/s1600/20170129_234112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Aipbi82N4t0/WI7I3_Ex_FI/AAAAAAAAYZk/eLjBJNXGTQI2UYBrDupViLrJBuMDlON5wCKgB/s400/20170129_234112.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
We've started working on it. During the day, we are trying to put him down for naps and at night he is sleeping at least part of the night in a pack and play next to the bed. Night time is working pretty well (I'm slowing recovering from baby snuggle withdrawal), but so far he cannot nap for more than about 20-30 minutes without waking and crying. The pediatrician says this is a very common time for sleep regression anyway. He says no matter what we do, things should get better in the next couple months. For the sake of our cranky kid and my unfolded laundry, I sure hope so!Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-50200457458047723182017-01-28T23:03:00.000-06:002017-01-29T23:04:51.190-06:00The cuteness <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nAuUJUxJbHA/WI7JLEfM-mI/AAAAAAAAYZo/gHkSsBO9EBUCAPc2ic3DiAmVq1KRAvWYwCKgB/s1600/20170128_191400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nAuUJUxJbHA/WI7JLEfM-mI/AAAAAAAAYZo/gHkSsBO9EBUCAPc2ic3DiAmVq1KRAvWYwCKgB/s320/20170128_191400.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
Sometimes this kid is so cute it hurts! (if I do say so myself)Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-87524510128897251932017-01-27T23:06:00.000-06:002017-01-29T23:06:23.293-06:00A boy and his dog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WwGjDCWp5OI/WI7JmlgTCwI/AAAAAAAAYZ4/g7cHcggf3I4-M3KZXWS53PX13iFGm3X3ACKgB/s1600/20170127_161218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WwGjDCWp5OI/WI7JmlgTCwI/AAAAAAAAYZ4/g7cHcggf3I4-M3KZXWS53PX13iFGm3X3ACKgB/s400/20170127_161218.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Nobody messes with her baby. Nobody.Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-48119534247148936142017-01-26T23:08:00.000-06:002017-01-29T23:09:29.775-06:00Splashing away the grumps<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UOSjSJeRrsI/WI7J9r0zNaI/AAAAAAAAYaA/JB8oJxiXZBkSDtW4_zhJwH7KMLuLSzzygCKgB/s1600/20170126_143527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UOSjSJeRrsI/WI7J9r0zNaI/AAAAAAAAYaA/JB8oJxiXZBkSDtW4_zhJwH7KMLuLSzzygCKgB/s400/20170126_143527.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<br />
Elliot woke up this morning a cranky dude. Tried letting him splash around in his ducky tub to restart our day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u_jGcR1aKGw/WI7J9gvFRWI/AAAAAAAAYaA/GbpNc8LTqnQF5B-EeYIZbPS1yoaH0-01gCKgB/s1600/20170126_160021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u_jGcR1aKGw/WI7J9gvFRWI/AAAAAAAAYaA/GbpNc8LTqnQF5B-EeYIZbPS1yoaH0-01gCKgB/s400/20170126_160021.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Seems to have worked!Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-72060785618209613182017-01-23T10:35:00.000-06:002017-01-31T10:36:41.050-06:00Sleep, barn doors, and my Gwenny<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpgO1_f4NudZTefzZKlAms54V9uiUxBL-73o1fcOX9gZQQgpGr-ewKV5l50a2QLvkshEMMk7hSPHwRH1y40Spc62OnyE-QwL6NyL0w7QxH2z8i4EbgvKjJJy1AO9Y3bAZ3MXZn-_O9wA/s1600/20161223_184138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpgO1_f4NudZTefzZKlAms54V9uiUxBL-73o1fcOX9gZQQgpGr-ewKV5l50a2QLvkshEMMk7hSPHwRH1y40Spc62OnyE-QwL6NyL0w7QxH2z8i4EbgvKjJJy1AO9Y3bAZ3MXZn-_O9wA/s640/20161223_184138.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
We are pooped. The holidays and the packing have taken their toll. I treasure getting to cuddle up with my little guy every night and snuggle and nurse our way to sleep.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUSWewnKrHD24wtkd1ykKdUPujB0mxOgQ5w_eIhyvOiI0ewzorKTCPA4P__VeRt5N6wQx8rNBnD6ebFkeJe7kKRwq27qviUFyXZs_DjvSfkfshBwE79Kz2ZRptHpGEf7_1ojASllTCB0/s1600/FB_IMG_1482533243532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUSWewnKrHD24wtkd1ykKdUPujB0mxOgQ5w_eIhyvOiI0ewzorKTCPA4P__VeRt5N6wQx8rNBnD6ebFkeJe7kKRwq27qviUFyXZs_DjvSfkfshBwE79Kz2ZRptHpGEf7_1ojASllTCB0/s320/FB_IMG_1482533243532.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Meanwhile, up in North Carolina Anthony is hard at work getting the farm ready for all of us. He and his father built and painted these amazing doors to close off a safe room for the sheep and goats to overnight. I can't wait to see them in person. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU8sX8qJmBSH5_NTWlx9ITb1C6kyqR9XP1BYt_gW5vwtSuzKnWCRdET8zPbIx06O_CIwE8MfwG-AkJGICzTHJmqqingRF8qGJ424mQd720BHl-xxd30Z4s4Z1e5rtGSC6qvWU9XvQgIyU/s1600/export1306847633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU8sX8qJmBSH5_NTWlx9ITb1C6kyqR9XP1BYt_gW5vwtSuzKnWCRdET8zPbIx06O_CIwE8MfwG-AkJGICzTHJmqqingRF8qGJ424mQd720BHl-xxd30Z4s4Z1e5rtGSC6qvWU9XvQgIyU/s320/export1306847633.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
We lost my babygirl Gwen last year on Christmas Eve. I realized this year that through the magic of things like timehop and facebook memories, I'll get to relive her swift and horrible demise in pictures every holiday season.<br />
That's why I was so happy to wake up this morning to this picture of my girl in her prime during her visit to a physical therapist for her knee. She was a an ornery and hard-headed goat who was so smart and funny and sweet in her own way. I still miss her every day.Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-64365085585662766942017-01-20T15:54:00.000-06:002017-01-20T16:15:20.643-06:00What's Happening!So a lot has happened since last I posted here.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JDv9g4PQBXU/WHsynIFf4GI/AAAAAAAAXqc/c3wwUSfeQY0wGsCba6C5j4AzFNk1mCfnACLcB/s1600/IMG_0665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JDv9g4PQBXU/WHsynIFf4GI/AAAAAAAAXqc/c3wwUSfeQY0wGsCba6C5j4AzFNk1mCfnACLcB/s400/IMG_0665.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Anthony and I welcomed our newest family member into the world on August 15th. Little Anthony Elliot was 8lbs 5oz and ?? in long. I had to be induced due to high blood pressure, but otherwise went natural. Labor was fast and furious. I walked and walked and walked around my hospital room until it was time to get into the tub and push. Elliot came out perfect and healthy into the warm water and his dad's waiting arms. I had a few health issues afterward, but all is well now. We are both doing just great!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
The other big news is we moved! Anthony was offered a really great job up in Greensboro, NC just before Elliot was born. The bad news was that they needed him to start very quickly which meant leaving baby and me when El was only 3 weeks old. Anthony found us a wonderful farm less than 15 minutes from his work and busted his butt to get it ready to move me, the baby, and a select group of our animals.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rk52KpRCGo0/WIJ-PqxfdrI/AAAAAAAAX2w/8IjftFra4eEb_UAMfyiZ3Hn6QP4_qcm3QCPcB/s1600/15590183_655666687927103_4648653254891889318_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rk52KpRCGo0/WIJ-PqxfdrI/AAAAAAAAX2w/8IjftFra4eEb_UAMfyiZ3Hn6QP4_qcm3QCPcB/s320/15590183_655666687927103_4648653254891889318_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
On my end, I sold off a lot of livestock and tried to pack up the house and farm. My mother moved onto the farm and helped with animal and baby care. Of the goats, Eve and Turnip got sent to a wonderful lady to join Rutabaga (now Mayberry) and get spoiled rotten. I sold off all but the very best of our flock leaving us with a very nice looking group. We ended up moving with 9 sheep, 9 goats, and a motley group of turkeys, chickens, ducks, geese, and quail. My dad helped us purchase a gorgeous livestock trailer to get everyone moved.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-34uauULhFpo/WIKECQf8YGI/AAAAAAAAX24/2nuibSYETs4_ZfqKPtra4mM9i_A0cdbxwCPcB/s1600/NCM_0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-34uauULhFpo/WIKECQf8YGI/AAAAAAAAX24/2nuibSYETs4_ZfqKPtra4mM9i_A0cdbxwCPcB/s320/NCM_0001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Anthony with the invaluable help of my step-dad packed a giant u-haul truck full to the brim with our belongings and used it to pull the stock trailer up to our new place. All the animals did well with the move, though Fred, our barn cat, was more than a little pissed at being moved with the livestock (safe in a crate, of course). We are all now settled in our new home awaiting kids and lambs and trying to convince the chickens to stop flying out of their pen at night.<br />
<br />
The farm itself will be shifting from a business to more of a homestead. A place for us to raise our own food and focus a bit more on our own family. There may be some products in the future, but both Anthony and I agree that egg sales are for the birds!<br />
<br />
So what is the future of this blog? We'll be keeping the name HighTail Farms because we feel like it is who we are, not where we are. Ideally I'd like to turn this into a 365 project. That's a picture a day, everyday. I did it for years, but we'll see if it is something I can keep up with now that we have a farm and a small human to contend with.<br />
<br />
That means there will also be a bit of a shift in the content. Expect a lot of pictures of the ins and outs of our daily life, less direct focus on the farm, and of course lots of pictures and videos of baby Elliot because I'm a new mom and I think he's really stinkin cute. I'm warning everyone now so you can get out while the gettin's good!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hvWK9jC5n_0/WIKEf3M2WaI/AAAAAAAAX28/DPkcNNbxrYoSTLfb6g1wVwV1NJwCaVU-QCPcB/s1600/IMG_2157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hvWK9jC5n_0/WIKEf3M2WaI/AAAAAAAAX28/DPkcNNbxrYoSTLfb6g1wVwV1NJwCaVU-QCPcB/s400/IMG_2157.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I'll be moving a handful of posts over here in the next few days (weeks?) because I was originally thinking I would start a whole new blog for the 365. I hope everyone will stay tuned. Life with baby and farm certainly hasn't been boring so far. I look forward to chronicling our future here with all of you. Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-56366251988232070622016-12-22T08:41:00.000-06:002017-01-24T08:42:12.372-06:00Farm CallToday we had the vet out for a farm call. He did a quick inspection of the sheep and goats and wrote us a health certificate so that the animals would be legal to cross state lines. All the animals got ID tags with our Scrapies ID so at least that much is ready to go!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIYqqfY7aP3OUG1Kv_h4escU3UHTIhqRqeF3vRsDJhxU7Yt5ZkeVJNC33bxG1Qc9Z76sIUXZ2ZbgmUUGemxB9GwoahZZemsF3Hqu235xNf1hkNVeiR40a_BEO8Et972UpmHo1ssRsdM6M/s1600/20161222_165604.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIYqqfY7aP3OUG1Kv_h4escU3UHTIhqRqeF3vRsDJhxU7Yt5ZkeVJNC33bxG1Qc9Z76sIUXZ2ZbgmUUGemxB9GwoahZZemsF3Hqu235xNf1hkNVeiR40a_BEO8Et972UpmHo1ssRsdM6M/s640/20161222_165604.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-60497727405878292322016-12-21T08:39:00.000-06:002017-01-24T08:44:18.219-06:00SantaToday, mom and I carved out a small chunk of our crazy schedule to go get Elliot's first Santa picture. Because I'm a bit of a crazy person, I opted to sit in the picture with him instead of letting Santa with his touching every kid with every god knows what kind of disease gloves hold my baby. Look, I'm all for germs and early exposure and working that immune system, but not with my 4 month old and not right now. We don't even have a good pediatrician picked out in Greensboro yet.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Anywho, here's our Santa pic. We tried to get a smile out of the little guy, but did not succeed. His smiles are frequent and easy but fleeting so by the time the photographer got back to her camera, El was back to his default face. Oh well, he's still his adorable self. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The day was a bit of a kerfuffle. Everything that could...I don't want to say go wrong exactly, but everything we tried to do ended up being more complicated than usual. El managed to fountain my mother with pee THREE times during one diaper change, the last of which called for a costume change on his part. While we were out, he pooped twice. We arrived to the Santa place while they were out to lunch, and mom didn't inform me until halfway through the day that she had an engagement that evening. So by the time we got half of our to do list done, we had to run home. I nursed a very hungry Elliot then ran out and did chores in about 10 minutes flat. Afterward while mom and her husband did their thing, Elliot, Rialey and I finished our errands for the day. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My poor baby. By the time we were finally heading home for the last time, he had had it and started crying in the car. I pulled over twice to try and soothe him to no avail. I even tried driving (carefully down back roads) while dangling my cell above his head playing an app that has shiny balls rattling around. Nothing helped, but I did get pretty good at fishing out a dropped pacifier and shoving it back into his mouth blind and backwards though.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-WTCXUKyERD1Lfsj4T5lnEE2uihKc0bvjDemTdbx-72ZWZkuIOgDwYo1Xi8v_Tzy-nVl0-hWd9noLFpThiLt01WdsaLrwcHt1KYRknAEjVgQLMi8tbTZyjjViWsAi4BsFiUrpIOBloI/s1600/Elliot%2527s+First+Santa+Picture+-+4+mo.+old.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-WTCXUKyERD1Lfsj4T5lnEE2uihKc0bvjDemTdbx-72ZWZkuIOgDwYo1Xi8v_Tzy-nVl0-hWd9noLFpThiLt01WdsaLrwcHt1KYRknAEjVgQLMi8tbTZyjjViWsAi4BsFiUrpIOBloI/s400/Elliot%2527s+First+Santa+Picture+-+4+mo.+old.jpeg" width="266" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-42572057858594668312016-12-20T08:38:00.000-06:002017-01-24T08:39:22.722-06:00Respite<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaNMRUAJL_2U4D3kGmdTLgqwaRyDE8xqI4VMjnezOok8RhYkfpr9l5W7R13HcOP36iJZHvfnkNFhW39S6XCOwyMxDO6iTDWNr8ZSkk9COxycR5JkHqvo1WZh4PC2qczF015TRFBlJBAxY/s1600/20161220_084043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaNMRUAJL_2U4D3kGmdTLgqwaRyDE8xqI4VMjnezOok8RhYkfpr9l5W7R13HcOP36iJZHvfnkNFhW39S6XCOwyMxDO6iTDWNr8ZSkk9COxycR5JkHqvo1WZh4PC2qczF015TRFBlJBAxY/s640/20161220_084043.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
My absolute favorite part of these crazy days is getting to sit down every couple hours with my sweet boy to nurse. When I was pregnant, all my baby dreams involved nursing him, and I'm so blessed that our nursing relationship is working so well for the both of us. Elliot has an excellent appetite, and I am so far keeping up with his needs. At night he nurses himself to sleep and during the day, it's the one surefire way to calm him. For me, it's a time to stop, breathe, gather my thoughts, and just enjoy this fleeting time with my little one.Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-16012647787766555682016-12-19T23:07:00.000-06:002017-01-24T20:07:34.711-06:00Leeloo banana<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DzsviP1LhTg/WIgH1P6XQVI/AAAAAAAAYG4/ekPkRMoxudMt0_n0u9ln_u3r1AER7Hi9wCKgB/s1600/20161219_104355_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DzsviP1LhTg/WIgH1P6XQVI/AAAAAAAAYG4/ekPkRMoxudMt0_n0u9ln_u3r1AER7Hi9wCKgB/s400/20161219_104355_HDR.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I have this silly habit of sticking produce stickers on the dogs' foreheads and then declaring them a Mexican tomato or a California kiwi for the day. Well, this morning my mother decided this big old "organic" sticker should not go to waste so she turned Leeloo into an organic banana. Leeloo was not amused.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k8SvphazdcE/WIgIFMnmgRI/AAAAAAAAYG8/j1aRU8rXZEsclgRY1m0IiOFMRw9jH4tAQCKgB/s1600/20161219_190008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k8SvphazdcE/WIgIFMnmgRI/AAAAAAAAYG8/j1aRU8rXZEsclgRY1m0IiOFMRw9jH4tAQCKgB/s400/20161219_190008.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In other news, we are working towards getting all the sheep and goats legal to cross state lines for the big move. We got an official scrapies ID number and ordered ear tags for everyone. The vet is coming out later this week to fill out the necessary paperwork. Many of the goats are LaManchas who don't even have ears to tag so we'll be putting the tags on their newly cleaned collars instead.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I've also included this bonus pic of the Elliot monster just because. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xKsnopBF2HU/WIgIRbkhs2I/AAAAAAAAYHA/_OzuFoMyy8IOw-zqwqRCQfU8Jwd4WsUcwCKgB/s1600/20161219_182954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xKsnopBF2HU/WIgIRbkhs2I/AAAAAAAAYHA/_OzuFoMyy8IOw-zqwqRCQfU8Jwd4WsUcwCKgB/s400/20161219_182954.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-1349915684026662062016-12-18T23:06:00.000-06:002017-01-22T23:06:56.835-06:00It's beginning to look a little like ChristmasToday we took a little break from packing and watching the Saints beat the Cardinals to trim our tiny tree. I've never been one to decorate much for the holidays, but we decided to put in a bit of effort since this is Elliot's first and our last Christmas here on the farm.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir6skcSkgnD_lXngNCDTOrNJdXeBGvdXCFspRf023Jbglz9Y0NJH3DcuEV3kT9sJReasqERBewLbkK-TrjlExeWIv52Q3Ud3LO3mszhYVXp9Uu8Uyj6qo1AUE84sz1qPCtHlxRtWDC05Y/s1600/20161218_183804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir6skcSkgnD_lXngNCDTOrNJdXeBGvdXCFspRf023Jbglz9Y0NJH3DcuEV3kT9sJReasqERBewLbkK-TrjlExeWIv52Q3Ud3LO3mszhYVXp9Uu8Uyj6qo1AUE84sz1qPCtHlxRtWDC05Y/s320/20161218_183804.jpg" width="229" /></a></div>
Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-758447423376667602016-12-16T22:47:00.000-06:002017-01-22T22:47:54.331-06:00My life in boxesI hate packing. I hate packing for trips, and I especially hate packing to move.<br />
<br />
I have a love-hate relationship with my stuff. There is too much of it, and I hate getting rid of it. I think a lot of people feel this way, but it's really brought to the forefront when you have to literally lay hands on everything single thing you own and somehow make it fit into a 15 foot truck.<br />
<br />
On top of having to pack up everything, I am also trying to hold down a farm and raise an infant with just my mother for help (and a big help she is, don't get me wrong). This is a crazy time in my life. Thank goodness I don't have to hold down a real job at the same time. As it is, I feel like I am chipping away at a granite mountain with a butter knife here.<br />
<br />
The baby needs almost constant care. I hate that I have to feel guilty spending any extra time interacting with my baby boy beyond feeding and diaper changes. If I had my druthers, I'd spend every second of the day gazing into his beautiful little face and striving to make him give me his rare and precious giggles. Stealing away even a few hours to put things in boxes some days feels like an complete impossibility.<br />
<br />
If all goes according to plan, in 10 days it will all be over. We'll be stuffing all this stuff into moving truck number 3 and saying goodbye to our farm here in Louisiana. When we get there, I'm not doing a damn thing beyond the essentials for at least a week!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOpmrzcqRu3Z5oCt2sEyO4i4wkkPy1DycHCqJm7M8fmMvfWAuC1pzBCeBkRP2F9djjbIES8pr96Il14wriF0JlPPbrO8m0-M0FY7b0Gl_BOME4jYU0KjYVWFXZJyl-HZWCJEO_Bzc4lwY/s1600/20161217_011536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOpmrzcqRu3Z5oCt2sEyO4i4wkkPy1DycHCqJm7M8fmMvfWAuC1pzBCeBkRP2F9djjbIES8pr96Il14wriF0JlPPbrO8m0-M0FY7b0Gl_BOME4jYU0KjYVWFXZJyl-HZWCJEO_Bzc4lwY/s640/20161217_011536.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj65S9RCT4Z5rB-sDbdMkyX2U11f5Ate_VLtlKck_cMbmsosmVgBQN8DUjJPociMeubcgpHbkddCf61BRi2BKRIGijstHTZwkl_MdFZWqYPUG1HDkrdL77rg5vmt-rNVjz15vqvbyMeP-o/s1600/20161217_011640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj65S9RCT4Z5rB-sDbdMkyX2U11f5Ate_VLtlKck_cMbmsosmVgBQN8DUjJPociMeubcgpHbkddCf61BRi2BKRIGijstHTZwkl_MdFZWqYPUG1HDkrdL77rg5vmt-rNVjz15vqvbyMeP-o/s640/20161217_011640.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-31220104070609487092016-12-15T22:25:00.000-06:002017-01-22T22:26:51.074-06:00Elliot is 4 months old! <div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Elliot turns 4 months today. The little guy continues to grow like a weed and delight us with something new every day.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
He now rolls over onto his belly at every opportunity and can hold his head and chest up to look around. He still hasn't figured out how to roll back, but I think it's mostly lack of interest. This little dude wants to move!</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
His manual dexterity continues to improve. He can hold things, flail them around, and bring them to his mouth to chew. If his pacifier <span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">falls out, he can often replace it.Yesterday he started sucking his thumb really for the first time, an action we are trying to discourage with limited success.</span></div>
<div class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 6px;">
His head control is great. We can now carry him around one handed which makes life around here a lot easier. He is also working on sitting up and loves to sit upright in our laps and look around at the world.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
He's a happy baby most of the time. He loves to be held and cuddled. The gas gets better every day as long as I am careful with my diet. Right now he loves to hear his own voice and will squeal and screech with delight with the occasional actual giggle thrown in. He knows his name and will turn to look and almost always smile when called.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
He's over 16lbs now and still wanting to nurse every couple hours. At night he will sleep for 4-5 hours at time before rolling over, reaching out, and smacking me awake to nurse.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
Being his momma is still my favorite thing in the world. He's by far the coolest thing I have ever made, and he gets cooler every day!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNpM2wqb12OW5PPzZMLMBQ8n0sU8UZwMhDThQxxxHuMnr8itQYY3dqJUwv6z1-HCX-KHz9WEU7yCbUPtV4Zhe7XU-dxG9cGje3BO0wUKPMoIy7jcqDfFylhwrqG1j_dDLrCp_bhCxBgk/s1600/IMG_1290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNpM2wqb12OW5PPzZMLMBQ8n0sU8UZwMhDThQxxxHuMnr8itQYY3dqJUwv6z1-HCX-KHz9WEU7yCbUPtV4Zhe7XU-dxG9cGje3BO0wUKPMoIy7jcqDfFylhwrqG1j_dDLrCp_bhCxBgk/s640/IMG_1290.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
</div>
Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-22194129438278218312016-12-14T22:17:00.000-06:002017-01-22T22:19:54.870-06:00My Son the Alligator<div dir="ltr">
It's 5 in the morning and my life is in chaos. Anthony and I had our first son, Elliot, almost four months ago. We are also smack in the of a giant move from South Louisiana to North Carolina. For some reason this seems like a perfect time to take on a new project.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
I did a 365 photo project years ago. It lasted many years, and it has been wonderful to look back and see my life documented. With the new baby and the new farm, I am looking for a way to keep a record of these crazy, fast changing times. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
The parameters of this project are simple: a picture a day. At least one picture per day. It may be one quick cell phone shot or a series from a photo shoot with the "good camera." Maybe an occasional video. I may share my thoughts on the day, I may not. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
For my first pic, I thought I'd share what early motherhood looked like laced with a bit of TMI. I use this bouncy chair to park Elliot while I do things in the bathroom. Well having to interrupt an early morning feeding for him with an urgent toilet trip for me meant rousing a sleepy baby to bring him with. Of course now he is wide awake. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Elliot thought this would be a great time to practice being an alligator and roll, roll, roll. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0GtTRrd6IZI8PNCWThKErbYoNZ1KzYB63VJKC2cd6F-mZPoTLgi3Z-xho8fAPBjg50ddhZ8OdYhJrDdP1qvTfMi8jf0j-T_yYb738Mh_-olZOfwDvMxJA7qILMc-e91EURwzVhFdQaY/s1600/20161214_051532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0GtTRrd6IZI8PNCWThKErbYoNZ1KzYB63VJKC2cd6F-mZPoTLgi3Z-xho8fAPBjg50ddhZ8OdYhJrDdP1qvTfMi8jf0j-T_yYb738Mh_-olZOfwDvMxJA7qILMc-e91EURwzVhFdQaY/s640/20161214_051532.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
I feel the need to point out that the little guy is not actually falling out of his chair. Just hanging awkwardly and flailing. Now I know why almost all baby seats come with seatbelts. Cue the tantrum!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxgwh2H_B62JDuj-3PA8eXBsXTKbAqHlM8tqzndmU85p1H3B4ijyLAtJdXVDF9mWgsxSsvXA9XmR1eDVXFwWrosvAK2ALm3_MUpLupeM2cWUGzyn0I76HLaE9q5hhTLl18MNwMj7pIVw/s1600/20161214_081521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxgwh2H_B62JDuj-3PA8eXBsXTKbAqHlM8tqzndmU85p1H3B4ijyLAtJdXVDF9mWgsxSsvXA9XmR1eDVXFwWrosvAK2ALm3_MUpLupeM2cWUGzyn0I76HLaE9q5hhTLl18MNwMj7pIVw/s400/20161214_081521.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-92117902754139902582016-06-20T14:31:00.002-05:002016-06-20T16:01:28.658-05:00The quail are back! A few years ago we had a pen of <a href="http://www.hightailfarms.com/2012/12/a-quail-in-bush.html" target="_blank">coturnix quail</a>. We eventually decided to sell our little flock. We couldn't find a market for the eggs and couldn't seem to raise enough to make the meat worth it. Since then, both Big Onion and I have talked about missing those little buggers and their funny little noises and cute little eggs. Plus we cannot seem to keep up the with demand for pet food or eggs these days. We decided maybe it was time to give the little birds another go.<br />
<br />
I had been on the lookout for anyone nearby selling some of the birds so when an ad popped up on one of the local poultry sale pages on facebook selling Texas A&M jumbo quail I decided it was time. The jumbo quail are said to lay just as many eggs as the regular coturnix, but these guys were specifically bred for meat so they grow to be much bigger and meatier than their natural cousins. They were just over an hour away so I jumped on the opportunity! The gentleman was selling what was left of his breeding flock of 22 birds, and he would throw in all their eggs from the last week as lagniappe! I was sold!<br />
<br />
We loaded up the car with a couple medium sized dog crates one Saturday afternoon and made the drive in the sprinkling rain to pick up our newest additions. When we arrived, all 22 birds were being kept in a relatively small raised cage in the man's backyard. This is a very common way to raise quail, so I do not fault the owner of the birds, but I was happy to take the little guys home knowing much nicer digs awaited their arrival.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N1cr_oELf4E/V2hAMGpOhbI/AAAAAAAAK08/swoK444ZZJsan1j5XQCwWInBJO_HNtJ7QCKgB/s1600/20160604_184842.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N1cr_oELf4E/V2hAMGpOhbI/AAAAAAAAK08/swoK444ZZJsan1j5XQCwWInBJO_HNtJ7QCKgB/s640/20160604_184842.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Once we got home, we unloaded the little birds into their new home. It is the same pen we kept in the quail in before, an indoor/outdoor on the ground enclosure that is probably 6' by 12'. Practically the Taj Mahal by quail standards!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dhQr1lHUZoA/V1zNwH0qvwI/AAAAAAAAKzw/GywBBNA4b9s_h3cOx_MhgpVW_xalh85QgCKgB/s1600/IMG_0439.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dhQr1lHUZoA/V1zNwH0qvwI/AAAAAAAAKzw/GywBBNA4b9s_h3cOx_MhgpVW_xalh85QgCKgB/s640/IMG_0439.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nEenou0bqNY/V1zNbzwjdvI/AAAAAAAAKzY/51gJwWYANkAIzLPKAIreeX7UlglQjf9HwCKgB/s1600/IMG_0431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nEenou0bqNY/V1zNbzwjdvI/AAAAAAAAKzY/51gJwWYANkAIzLPKAIreeX7UlglQjf9HwCKgB/s640/IMG_0431.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
With their feet on the ground probably for the first time in their lives, the quail started immediately exploring their new world. They were scratching and pecking and taking dirt baths right away!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i0KxqxzZsK8/V1zNnc1JHLI/AAAAAAAAKzk/L90fYCPcfIkoKDNNrBQyTZQd5e_eXCVFACKgB/s1600/IMG_0437.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i0KxqxzZsK8/V1zNnc1JHLI/AAAAAAAAKzk/L90fYCPcfIkoKDNNrBQyTZQd5e_eXCVFACKgB/s640/IMG_0437.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
It's always amazing to see those instincts come out in animals who have probably known nothing but metal wire under their feet. It wasn't long before we started hearing their silly little quail calls and finding the tiny mottled brown eggs squirreled away all around the pen. It's a bit like Easter every day in there trying to find all the eggs since they are so well camouflaged, and the quail love nothing more than to bury their eggs under the hay and dirt.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zmVHFWJMuuQ/V1zNjnxJjEI/AAAAAAAAKzY/k0jPa9zb3_k7h2qmLDP2z-8L1RWDmWY_QCKgB/s1600/IMG_0433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zmVHFWJMuuQ/V1zNjnxJjEI/AAAAAAAAKzY/k0jPa9zb3_k7h2qmLDP2z-8L1RWDmWY_QCKgB/s640/IMG_0433.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Our plan is to primarily raise the birds for meat. All of their eggs are going into the incubator so that we can always have a good supply growing out. They are called jumbo quail for a reason, and they certainly live up their name. They are built like softballs with big, round chests and very docile temperaments commonly seen in meat birds. I know our pet food customers' kitties will be thrilled with the new product once we get that first batch of eggs hatched and grown out. Until then we are happy to have the funny little beasts back on the farm.<br />
<br />Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-60080060557155111302016-05-08T13:19:00.001-05:002016-05-08T14:24:25.781-05:00Listen to the farm dog<div dir="ltr">
This morning Rialey gave me another lesson in trusting the wisdom of my farm dog. I'd run out to the poultry pens to gather some baby turkeys for sale and heading back I noticed Ry wasn't with me. She was running up and down the pasture fence trying to get my attention. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iH5i10iQKtw/Vy-DF3ASHTI/AAAAAAAAKoE/3mhrmZCuH6Y/s1600/20160508_092108.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iH5i10iQKtw/Vy-DF3ASHTI/AAAAAAAAKoE/3mhrmZCuH6Y/s640/20160508_092108.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Turns out that stupid turkey hen who jumps the fence every day to lay her egg had decided to go broody overnight on her nest on the other side of the fence. Judging by the pile of feathers, looks like something tried to take a chomp out of her. Luckily our hen was fine, if short a bit of fluff, but kudos to Ry for alerting me very clearly to the sight of a predator attack. Once I'd been made aware, she happily followed me and the turkey poults back to the house. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pZPJJvF42uU/Vy-DKrjUfFI/AAAAAAAAKoI/xQMZrBJH8WI/s1600/20160508_092147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" height="480" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pZPJJvF42uU/Vy-DKrjUfFI/AAAAAAAAKoI/xQMZrBJH8WI/s640/20160508_092147.jpg" width="640" /> </a> </div>
Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-85430155717191809492016-05-04T12:00:00.000-05:002016-05-04T12:00:42.921-05:00Bucket o'ducklings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-msNyVCim97A/VyommYAxiMI/AAAAAAAAKno/ljQG7O4HC2EKJDovN0Aia35dMG87PujqwCLcB/s1600/IMG_0185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-msNyVCim97A/VyommYAxiMI/AAAAAAAAKno/ljQG7O4HC2EKJDovN0Aia35dMG87PujqwCLcB/s640/IMG_0185.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Our ducks are getting old. We keep ducks here on the farm to sell their eggs. Unfortunately, our lady ducks are getting up there in the years and going though what I can only assume is the equivalent of ducky menopause. Despite the fact that we have many lady ducks out there and spring is the perfect time for a lady duck to do her ducky thing, we are only getting 1-2 eggs per day.<br />
<br />With that in mind, we set a couple dozen duck eggs in the incubator and waited the 28 days it takes to cook up baby ducklings. We didn't have the greatest hatch rate (again, old lady ducks), but we did get enough ducklings that we were able to sell a few and keep the bucket full you see above.<br />
<br />
Originally, we were keeping them in the brooder with the baby turkey poults that hatched at the same time, but ducklings and other birds just don't mix well at that age. They have very different protein requirements, and baby ducks are just disgusting. They get food and water and poop just everywhere. Hence the duckling bucket. These little ladies moved out and are now living and doing their best to destroy one of the poultry pens until they get old enough to move in with the flock and start laying us some eggs!Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-34336864605429962612016-04-24T14:04:00.000-05:002016-04-24T14:04:50.603-05:00Ace of Spades <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OZFnMdHPOsQ/VxOdKHOEgLI/AAAAAAAAKjs/CubRlAm3tDgwDRM5PNt2BZvBHyC_neYiwCKgB/s1600/20160417_091013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OZFnMdHPOsQ/VxOdKHOEgLI/AAAAAAAAKjs/CubRlAm3tDgwDRM5PNt2BZvBHyC_neYiwCKgB/s640/20160417_091013.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Would you just look at this little dude! Last weekend we picked up a new boer buck. He's about 5 months old and gorgeous. His registered name is Ace of Spades, but I just didn't like the name Ace. We've been told he looks like marble or a stormy sky, but the one that made me laugh was that he looks like he is made of blue cheese. That inspired me to call him Roquefort or "Rogue" for short.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-io_YPnJVr8M/VxOc-lnuZQI/AAAAAAAAKjs/M-vffhGpYSA1WqaPCdxK8khSP9H6fjMHACKgB/s1600/20160417_091014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-io_YPnJVr8M/VxOc-lnuZQI/AAAAAAAAKjs/M-vffhGpYSA1WqaPCdxK8khSP9H6fjMHACKgB/s640/20160417_091014.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
The name Rogue seems to fit him well. Every goat that comes to the farm has to spend at least a week or two in quarantine so that we can make sure they are healthy and fully dewormed before introducing them to the rest of the herd. Right now he also has some minor respiratory issues that we need to get resolved as well. This little guy is not at all happy about living alone and will perform acrobatic leaps up into the air and rebound off the sides of his pen when left alone. It's really kind of impressive. He also throws fits while we are gone and will flip his platform and destroy his hay buckets. I have a feeling that once he moves in with the Gimli and Legolas, our other bucks, they will not tolerate this kind of behavior plus maybe he'll probably settle down once he has company.<br />
<br />
Other than the hysterics of being left alone, he is a really sweet boy with a wonderful temperament. We had him out with us doing yard work earlier this week, and he just loved being near us and getting lots of scratches. He also has a healthy respect for Rialey who spent the day keeping an eye on him and moving him away from trouble.<br />
<br />
Our plan is to breed him with Edie next go round to produce what should be some really flashy registered Boers for sale. We'll also probably breed him to some of our bigger dairy girls with the plan to raise the babies for meat.<br />
<br />
Overall we are really excited to have this pretty little boy here and cannot wait to introduce him to the rest of the herd!Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4333764263267035727.post-46173729110380013022016-04-07T12:40:00.004-05:002016-04-07T12:46:35.394-05:00Herding Training Lately we have needed to move the flock of sheep more than in the past. We are trying to keep them off our first pasture as much as possible so that it doesn't get over grazed. We are also gathering them every week for health checks. Since the weather has started to warm, we have also been moving them into the backyard a few days a week so that they can act as living lawn mowers and enjoy the benefits of our very varied grass back there.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cC4VI0JWKnY/VwaWA_bhqlI/AAAAAAAAKgc/8_-yDuWKz8U_PkRYefMyemMJ--rlHz6mw/s1600/IMG_0159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cC4VI0JWKnY/VwaWA_bhqlI/AAAAAAAAKgc/8_-yDuWKz8U_PkRYefMyemMJ--rlHz6mw/s640/IMG_0159.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Rialey has always shown a very natural ability to move the flock. The problem is often that where she would like to move them and where we would like her to move them are totally different places. The last couple of weeks, I have started to make an effort to really dial in her herding training so that we can better communicate out there.<br />
<br />
The other thing the girl needs to learn is to just slow down! I thought surely when she reached 2 years old she would mature out of the puppy brain phase and start acting like an adult. Nope. Half the time when she's working she is a jumbo bag of mixed nuts, running and barking and trying to do everything we ask before we ask it and at TOP SPEED! Whhheeee!!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aRounWpTSk8/VwaVVqOUXhI/AAAAAAAAKgM/eUOTcynp9VAGdOuVg1hB8uuIUIRheyreQ/s1600/IMG_0152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aRounWpTSk8/VwaVVqOUXhI/AAAAAAAAKgM/eUOTcynp9VAGdOuVg1hB8uuIUIRheyreQ/s640/IMG_0152.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
The fault here lies with my training, not with my over zealous, very driven working dog. I haven't taken the time to show her what to do and reward when she is doing things at a moderate pace. Instead we often find ourselves waiting until she has done something in a totally wild fashion and then yelling. This does no one any good.<br />
<br />
Recently, I worked out a deal with a local trainer to trade a couple of our turkeys for a herding lesson. She was able to give me some great tips on reading Rialey's body language and getting the kind of performance I want without all the yelling and pushing.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G4GtHBTU5fY/VwaWmXPmWDI/AAAAAAAAKgg/t5r9vah8biUGcIm3M533EkngvNEhAutvw/s1600/IMG_0161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G4GtHBTU5fY/VwaWmXPmWDI/AAAAAAAAKgg/t5r9vah8biUGcIm3M533EkngvNEhAutvw/s640/IMG_0161.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Today, I decided to put some of her suggestions into practice so we went out to collect the sheep in the back pasture. It took a few tries, but eventually we moved the whole flock into the goat yard where armed with a clicker and some delicious treats (smokey bacon cheddar!), I rewarded Rialey for being calm, moving slowly, and getting around and behind her sheep. Thankfully, the sheep have finally grown out of the habit of trying to commit suicide by throwing themselves at the fence any time a dog moves anywhere near them! We moved the flock from one pen to the other and back again a few times then we decided to move the group into the backyard to graze for the day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QcbC9e5ULwU/VwaYrVrtXjI/AAAAAAAAKg4/89digFHs770bOoMKlYm2RJZi7Vs8r8stw/s1600/IMG_0167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QcbC9e5ULwU/VwaYrVrtXjI/AAAAAAAAKg4/89digFHs770bOoMKlYm2RJZi7Vs8r8stw/s640/IMG_0167.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Our first attempt at moving from one yard to the other did not go so well. Unsure what I wanted, Rialey flanked around and ended up moving the sheep in the opposite direction and by a roundabout route then ended up back where we'd started. This time I got in front of the flock and just told Rialey to wait as I walked confidently in front of the group, out the gate, and across the pasture.<br />
<br />
There was this beautiful moment when I looked over my shoulder and there spread out behind me trotting calmly was the entire flock of sheep. Bringing up the rear at a respectable distance was Rialey. She was WALKING behind the sheep. Keeping her shepherd's eye on all the young lambs to make sure they stayed with the group and calmly encouraging the whole flock to take my lead. Once the sheep saw the open backyard gate and the lush greens that awaited them, they all rushed through and Rialey to her credit slowed to a stop and waited for every last ewe and lamb to find their way through the small gate.<br />
<br />
Gate shut, I turned around and had a huge party with my good girl, complete with a whole handful of smokey bacon cheddar!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aDkY0uk84gw/VwaYF740yJI/AAAAAAAAKgs/1iLQTYRdYaI8Lad00QH_teBGFO-G5pyQw/s1600/IMG_0164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aDkY0uk84gw/VwaYF740yJI/AAAAAAAAKgs/1iLQTYRdYaI8Lad00QH_teBGFO-G5pyQw/s640/IMG_0164.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />Kaelahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15002262400892909130noreply@blogger.com0