Reflecting on Critters Past & Present

This is Annie our foul-tempered, back-porch cat. Don't let her mild mannered sweet and cuddly looks fool you, she's scheming on how to get her claws in you!

Living out here in the middle of nowhere and seldom getting to town has been made a bit easier by the companionship of our animals. And the number has gone up dramatically since moving to the country a short five-and-a-half years ago.


                                               My all-time favorite three-legged dog.

And I must add here that I believe that when moving to the country there is that whole nature abhors a vacuum thing goin' on. Before you know it, you're running a full-blown menagerie! People know you've moved to wide open spaces and they want to unload FREE animals on you. And then there are the dog dumpers, don't even get me started on that vile class of people!

We moved in with a hermit crab. Katy was it's name. And I must confess that when the odorous thing died a couple of weeks after moving in, I was a bit relieved that I would no longer have to clean out the bowl where it resided. Have you ever seen one of those things come out of it's shell...cringe-factor BIG time!
But it wasn't long, maybe a month, and we had acquired a couple of puppies for the girls. They were birthday gifts.
The dogs couldn't have been more different. The black lab/pit bull mix was born an old man. He didn't play much and just wanted to be petted constantly and nap.


      This is our lab/pit bull mix. He's large and intimidating...and smells of dead armadillo.
The other, a lab/shepherd mix felt it her duty to chase every piece of hoofstock in a mile radius. Her exiting the premise was due to the very large, roughened rancher that leased the land across the road appearing on our doorstep one evening and announcing that he would shoot her if she was spotted chasing his goats and cows again.
"Adios, Shelby!"

It was also during this time that an acquaintance of ours was moving and gave us a cat (our foul-tempered, back porch cat) and a couple of goats.
The goats didn't stay long due to their escape artist ways, but the cat has become a permanent back porch fixture. She's not nice. We warn people not to pet her. The dogs are even frightened of her.


   Strawberry is one of our Welsh ponies. She's a bit of a diva, definitely not a wallflower!

Before the first year was up, there were calves and a horse added to the mix.
And then later cats were needed as the foul-tempered cat decided to quit her mouse exterminating job.


The veterinarian on the premisis didn't spay our little female cat, Ashes. So she in return graciously presented us with a litter of kittens. It was her last.

Over the next few years we would see many calves come and go, some favorites, and some nearly drove us over the brink. If you've ever dealt with onery livestock you have empathy and can relate regarding that last statement.


                                    His name was Peanut, it should have been Trouble.

Presently the critter count stands at eleven hens, four horses, four calves, three dogs, and two cats.
I'd say that's enough...wouldn't you.

Have a fantastic & blessed week!
Julie

Chickens were on the list from the beginning but didn't become a reality until a year and a half ago. And then the real drama began!



                                                     Homestead Revival: Barn Hop #27

High Drama on the Farm

Yesterday morning we woke up.
It's been hot, really hot, consistently hot for far too long.
And dry, really dry, consistently dry for far too long.
We're in a drought.
So wisely we try and get all the animals taken care of early before it's unbearably hot.
Walking back from feeding the calves at the barn, I gazed out at the pasture.
It was one of those "what's wrong with this picture" type of gazes.
I looked hard trying to make out why the two full-size horses looked larger than usual and why they were head-to-head?!



Why...that wasn't Bella and Rabbit out there, but two very large and very full-size bulls!
I quickly assessed that the red bull was from the pasture to the south of us and the black one from the pasture to the north of us.



I guess they had gotten a bit bored and decided to meet in the middle and have their own version of UFC Championships. And these guys would definitely fit into the heavyweight class!
And NO, I have never watched UFC fighting (we don't get cable). Everything I know about it I've heard from my sister and her family.


I added the butterfly (borrowed the idea from The Pioneer Woman) to alleviate the cringe- factor in my more
citified friends.

Back to the bulls, the red one seem to have more attitude and strength going for it and ultimately won the championship round and herded the black bull back over to the fence from where he had come from.



A couple of little upstarts (probably the black bulls progeny) ran over to the fence to check things out.



Words were probably said that shouldn't have been said and the red bull sent them packin'.



So what have we learned from all this?
1. Build better fences
2. But then even really great fences will not always keep trouble out.
3. And sometimes livin' on a farm isn't all it's cracked up to be.
You take the good with the bull....er I mean bad.



Speaking of bull and lots of it. And please excuse the cowboy vernacular, but we've sorta seen more than our fair share of "bull" this past year. Too much really. But we know that for whatever reason we've been allowed to travel this wearisome road as of late, it will work towards the Glory of the Lord and bring us closer to the heart of our dear Saviour. The choice was mediocrity, the world's offerings, or move forward with the Lord. Moving forward meant taking a stand and becoming unpopular. Interestingly that seems to be the path we're on, the race we're running if you will. Anyone that has ever run a marathon knows it can be grueling, but the prize is so worth it!
Character building takes fire.
It's good to be back,
Julie

    Homestead Revivals Barn Hop!

Here, It's Where I'm At

Part of my morning routine is to head out to the chicken coop early while the sun is just peering over the eastern horizon, let the chickens out into their run, and then check the nesting boxes for eggs.
The hens lay throughout the morning, but there are always at least three eggs to be found by the time I get out there,...still warm...in the cedar-lined nests.
This morning, I tuck them into my barn jacket's deep pockets and then head out to the garden to see what may be coming up.



The asparagus I had divide several weeks ago and transplanted is making its way up and through the earth!



Not to be outdone, the green onions are also emerging. Wonderfully, we're all fans of fresh green onions on a crisp garden salad on a hot summers day!



Satisfied with the goings ons there, I stroll back towards the house, my hands in my pockets cupped around the still warm eggs.

The redbud trees at the edge of the driveway demand my attention. I take a few pictures and once again wonder why they're called redbuds when the blooms are most definitely not red.



Grape Hyacinth are blooming. These tiny little flowers that are some of the first to bloom in Spring, have always enchanted me with their durability and the ease with which they spread. So charming!



And then I head back into the house to prepare breakfast, educate children, work on a blog post, ponder the progress we're to make in the spiritual place our family is in right now, pray without ceasing, and work on the history fair that I have had the privilege to head up these last three years. The history fair is tomorrow morning.

My husband emailed this quote to me this morning,...I love it!

"Let it never be forgotten that the material part of a Christian Church is by far the least important part of it. The fairest combinations of marble, stone, wood and painted glass, are worthless in God’s sight, unless there is truth in the pulpit and grace in the congregation. The dens and caves in which the early Christians used to meet, were probably far more beautiful in the eyes of Christ than the noblest cathedral that was ever reared by man. The temple in which the Lord Jesus delights most, is a broken and contrite heart, renewed by the Holy Spirit."
~ J.C. Ryle

Isn't that great?!
Blessings and have a great weekend, Julie

Take A Hike! Part 2

Back to the hike, remember, we're in the ravine.
The kids are playing in the little stream that is fed by a spring further up toward the house.
The stream runs over a sandstone bottom and eventually waterfalls down into the lake.



I "play" too. But my play is a little different as I take a stick and turn over small rocks looking for life underneath. I'm still looking forward to that day when I see a salamander...none this day, but the water striders and crawfish that scurry here and there are appreciated.
The leaves, some floating atop the gentle water gliding, draw my attention.
This sycamore leaf, submerged, has been preserved by the cold temperatures of the water.
Its color, amongst dulled browns is welcome.



There are many varieties of trees in the ravine, the forest above, and around the lake that borders the western most part of our farm.
Many types of oaks, elms, and flowering trees like the red buds and hawthorns thrive in this wood. Sycamores that tower, willows and persimmons are all common here.
The lone green clothed are the red cedars.
The ferns are plentiful here on the damp rock. I've transplanted some to our yard.



So while standing here taking pictures, the boy decided to walk along the top of the wall of the ravine. No surprise there, huh?


"Hey! You! Get back away from the edge of that thar wall!"

The gray hairs abound.

On another subject, tomorrow we will be heading to our state's spelling bee. My oldest, who inherited her dad's spelling genes will be competing. We're excited...and nervous. I'll let you know how it goes. Did I say I was nervous...I am.

I hope you have a wonderfully productive and blessed weekend! Julie

Take A Hike! Part 1

Yesterday, after lunch, the kids and I took a hike down to the lake.
It had been awhile since we had all been down there together...and it's always an adventure!



On the way, we stopped at the edge of a pond that borders our property and picked up freshwater shells.
I think these beautiful creations so fascinating and take great satisfaction in knowing that the children enjoy these wonderful finds also!



Before we get to the woods and ravine that lead down to the lake, there is a low area with an outcropping of rock. This is such an interesting place as we often observe a wide variety of animal tracks in the dirt here.
We enter the woods and the kids always make me nervous by walking right up to the edge of the steepest part of the ravine! I have the girls pose beside it and then we walk further along until we get to the place that we can climb down in it.
The ravine is one of my favorite places here at Forty Acre Farm. Many times I come here by myself, my only companions, the dogs.
When it is windy, and it often is here in Oklahoma, I climb down here and walk along the stream bed...quiet, all exept for the wind up in the tops of the trees. But here, sheltered down below there is always a hush, and a wonderful smell of fresh earth...and the faint gurgling of water as it finds its way to the lake...which is just beyond the ravine.

Goodbye Pharaoh...and Empress

Yesterday, when going out to feed the chickens, the small bantam rooster, Pharaoh, flogged my Bata industrial boots (mucking boots)...it was the first time he had dared to do something so rooster-like.
Poor thing didn't know that I had been thinking how he and his mate, Empress, were more trouble than they were worth. His flogging performance sort of sealed the deal of their departure. But breaking it to their owner, my youngest daughter, wouldn't be so simple.


Pharaoh as a chick. See that glint in his eye...already scheming on me, he was.

You see, I've been wanting free-range chickens since we made our big move out here to the wilds of Oklahoma. And just last year that desire to have chickens came to fruition.
Last Spring we purchased six pullets and they're definitely high production egg layers! The three gold sex-links average five eggs a week per chicken and they're producing large to extra-large size eggs. The three white rocks have performed almost as satisfactory although their eggs are a bit smaller, but I've been happy with these six hens.
The newer crop of chicks we purchased last Fall, have started to mature. My oldest girl's Wyandottes have both started laying and one of my Buff Orpingtons has started laying. We still have another Buff Orpington that hasn't. We also have Mr. Incredible, our incredibly handsome Buff Orpington rooster, that seems to be a bit on the dull side...but that's okay because I'm not scared of him. And with that, we come back to Pharaoh and his queen, Empress...both of which would become cat chow in a heartbeat should I let them out with the rest of the chickens.
I'm a practical woman and Tim has indulged me quite enough with this chicken dream of mine. I can't ask him to build an extra coop for the small ones as an extra run and coop was built this past Fall for any hens that go broody and decide to raise some chicks this Summer.
Enough is enough...and all this was explained to my darling daughter as tactfully as possible. Yes, there was crying and pleading, but I wouldn't be moved from my decision. She understands now and is already planning how she can get back into the whole chicken project here at our little farm.
But I can't help but suspect that one day when she's all grown and she has a place of her own there will be bantams there, lots of them.
Have a safe and blessed weekend, Julie

Up On The Housetop!

No, no, no, this isn't a post regarding hooved and antlered creatures that naturally inhabit some of the northern most regions of our world and where in Sweden, according to Globe Trekker, they're rounded up annually, some culled, and made into such dishes as Reindeer Blood Dumplings.
Actually, to be quite honest, the whole reindeer flying and Santa thing has never been a part of our celebrating Christmas. For me, Santa and all his magic just doesn't compete with the son of God being born of a virgin in a barn with a mission to save those that would believe in Him for salvation (please don't theologically pick that last phrase apart). And Tim and I didn't want to put the jolly, red-suited man in competition with our King for our kiddos attention during the formative years. Now, we in no way have kept them from watching such classics as, "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer" or "Frosty the Snowman," but have explained from the get-go it's all fiction.
Nor, have we openly criticized those that lead their children to believe in Santa Claus.
Anyway, we celebrate Jesus year around. Christmas (Dec. 25th) just gives us a good excuse to spend money on a few frivolities we wouldn't normally feel comfortable spending our hard-earned money on as well as singing such cool songs as Silent Night and Hark the Herald Angels Sing.
Our family has also become very involved in the ministry, Operation Christmas Child and the children truly get excited about giving!
But, hey, if Santa is your thing, far be it for me to judge you, I'm not.
It really is NONE of my business.
Just givin' you a tiny peek of what we believe and how we attempt to live it out.
Now...back to the housetop!
One morning, a couple of weeks ago, on a weekday, the children and I made a trip to town.
It was a Stuffmart run...we were low on groceries and stuff.
And I, like many of you, am not a fan of Stuffmart.
It is a necessary evil.
But arriving back home to our little house in the woods, loaded to the gills with stuff, and hungry (we hadn't eaten lunch yet) the children and I began to unload the van.
All of us had made one trip and were working on the the second load when I, ahead of everyone else, made it back on the porch, arms full, fumbling to turn the door handle realized...it was locked.
Huh?!
Setting the bags down, I turned my full attention to the door handle and tried to turn it again. Sure enough...locked! ((Gulp))
"Who did this?!" I screeched. (like it made any difference)
Turns out, my seven-year-old little guy had done it.
Well, my purse was inside with the keys and cellphone.
The neighbors house was too far of a walk and besides they weren't home. They both work.
So we were stuck at the house trying to find a solution to getting into the house as well as getting all the newly bought perishables in the refrigerator and freezer.
Me being the paranoid being that I am, knew right away that any windows on the first floor would be locked.
We checked anyway and just as I had thought, all locked.
Now normally all windows on the second floor are locked, also.
But, this past summer had been sooo hot that we put an A/C window unit in one of the windows upstairs to cool the second floor more efficiently.
That window would not be locked.
Attention Thieves: We have guns and know how to use them in case you may be discerning this as an open invitation to break into our home.
So taking a deep breath and praying fervently that this whole incident would not be the main topic of our annual Christmas letter, I began to search for the extension ladder.
Also, I need to let you in on one of my eccentricities, there are many. Probably one of the more amusing being that I CANNOT open a biscuit tin. The sudden "POP!" scares me and the suspense of not knowing when its going to explode is just too much.
But that has nothing to do with anything here.
Actually, I'm terrified of heights.
The extension ladder was found but in seperate pieces. Argh!
I drug the two pieces over to the side of the house and put it together hoping it was correct.
The girls held the ladder at the bottom for me while the boy ran around to the other side of the house where he couldn't see.
I began the ascent slowly, praying more fervently at every rung. When, I came to the "extension" part I stopped, closed my eyes, and prayed harder than I can remember praying in a long time. I asked for a miracle in case I had the ladder all wrong.
I then slowly propelled myself upward, cringing.
It was okay, it held. I then went up another rung and was now within arms distance of the eaves of the house. Two more rungs up and I was heaving myself up and over the guttering and onto the roof. I lay in a prone position for awhile trying not to cry hysterically and thanking God at the same time.
Not looking over the edge, I yelled down to the girls that I was alright and about to try and get the A/C unit out of the window.
Standing up and negotiating the incline up to the window, I started contemplating how I was going to get the unit out of the window. Upon reaching it, I used my left arm and shoulder to steady the air conditioner while reaching up with my right arm and pushing the window up. I didn't anticipate the unit coming forward as quickly as it did, nor the weight of it...it was heavy. But I braced myself against it and eased it out and onto the side of the house. It was still plugged in so it was somewhat tethered to the wall. I yelled down to the girls to move away from the house in case the unit didn't stay put (came unplugged) and went tumbling off the roof and down to the ground. I then jumped up into the now open window and crawled inside.
It was over...although I buggered (a word borrowed from my grandpa) my right wrist up pretty badly.
I can't say I'm laughing about the whole incident yet.
But it made for a quite an eventful afternoon, one I hope to never repeat.
I know that they say the best way to overcome your fears is to face them head on. I faced my fear of heights that day and you know what, they still scare me silly!
P.S. Tim later informed me that the extension ladder was not put together correctly.

A Day @ 40 Acre Farm

Most days, my day starts early.
I've been amazed that as I've gotten older how much more I enjoy the early morning hours.
My body clock is set at 5:30 AM.
After waking, two cups of coffee follow.
I enjoy my coffee while surfing a bit online.
Then just as the sun begins to peer over the eastern horizon, I suit up...coat, scarf, and hat.
It's Fall and the morning temperatures are a bit brisk.
After running the puppy off of the front porch (she knows better), I head towards the barn and chicken coops. We have two coops that are seperated by a wall of chicken wire currently as the older hens could quite possibly peck one of the younger chickens to death.
After feeding and watering the birds, checking for eggs as the red Sexlinks tend to lay early, and giving the little Welsh pony, Trixie, a li'l bit of scratching, I make my way back to the house.



Looking out the kitchen window to the west, I pause to admire the sun spreading it's shine slowly over the lake and woods in the distance.



I just have to get some pictures so I rush to grab my camera and station myself on the backporch, clicking away. This is not an easy feat as the backporch, foul-tempered cat, Annie, continuously rubs and bumps her head against my lower leg.



I find that if I pause too long to admire...the time gets away quickly.
So...it's back in the house.
Most days it's cereal for the kiddos.
Of course they don't approve, but who asked them, right.
So the cherubs are up now and there's plenty of conversation, noise, and bustle. It's not uncommon for someone to wake up with a negative attitude. Is it wrong that at this time I relish the fact that I secretly gave away all of his Sillybands to some recent toddler visitors???
Out here, far far away from all that is civilized, I have to take what I can get, don't judge me too harshly.
Back to my morning, school starts as soon as children have made their beds, brushed their teeth (we brush after breakfast), and gotten dressed.



Here, my oldest seems to be saying, "Mom, I know you and Daddy are very frugal, but can't we use textbooks like other homeschoolers?" My boy looks on wistfully.
These are actually photos of the kids observing different kinds of rocks during our Geology unit this past summer. Afterwards, they painted volcanoes.




Our school schedule usually looks like this:

Bible Reading & Devotion
Saxon Math
Language Arts & Spelling
Science or Thematic Unit

We're currently working on a 20th Century unit and are stuck at 1910. Well, not stuck, but stopped there for the time being. Seems our afternoons have filled up lately with the extra curricular. This afternoon it's a Geography Coop twenty miles away and then Cub Scouts this evening.
Most evenings, when Tim has gotten home from work, we all try to get as much done outside before it gets too dark.
Yesterday, Tim brought up quite a few roundbales from the pasture. The horses and cows had started eating the ends out due to the increasing lack of green grass.



We sell most of these and Tim even put one out in the median of our drive for a friend to come pick up later this week.



We also needed to bring one to the barn and put a roundbale feeder on it.
But not before the kids had a bit of fun with the feeder.






Okay, now we're ready to get the feeder on the roundbale.



That's done and now time for some more fun!






We've had quite a day!
The sun is setting...



and the kids are basking in it's departing rays.



My last chores outside are to get the older chickens back in their pen, fed, and watered. The younger chickens then get my attention as I have to make sure they have plenty to eat and drink and shut them up in their coop securely. I'm quite pleased that I haven't lost one yet to predation but am bracing myself to not be too overly upset when the inevitable happens as I've read it's quite common.



Now, it's inside for the evening meal, supper, and then soon to bed!
While this is not everyday, it is an average day for us.
Blessings to you and yours!

Definitely A Country Living Con

The dogs were gone all day yesterday.
This is really quite normal, even though we don't approve.
But living in the country and I mean way out in the country, we need them loose. They're a part of Ranch Security and yes, I'm borrowing the term from the "Hank the Cowdog" series.
But seriously, along with the guns that we possess, the dogs are a valuable part of keeping the place secure.
And not to mention, they keep the predators (coyotes, bobcats, racoons, and foxes)  from killing our free-range chickens.
Last night only two dogs made it home. The oldest and the youngest.
Our highly athletic Nick was still gone.
This morning, not-so-bright and early, Tim and I went outside to see if he was back. He was not.
We went about our morning chores taking a break every now and then to call and whistle.
Quite honestly, I made myself hoarse.
A couple of hours later, Tim left for work and Nick still was not home.
I know I've said derogatory things about Nick and even posted an entry at the other blog that didn't quite play up his best features.
But, I love that pup. He's my tried and true hiking companion. Always behind me on the trail and occasionally sticking his sharp Collie nose into the back of my leg. We connect in an odd master/dog sort of way.



Around  9:30 AM, as I was making my way into our schoolroom, I looked up and out the front window that faces the driveway and saw Nick limping up the drive. He had his back left leg pulled up and wasn't putting any weight on it.
Not being one to be subtle, I exclaimed, "Oh my!" and ran out the front door...of course the kids were following close behind.
He laid down in the side yard. I told the kids to put the other two dogs in the kennel so we could get a closer look at Nick. But I already had a pretty good idea of what we were going to find....a gunshot wound.
The children were able to get the dogs in the kennel and came over to where Nick was lying on his side in the grass. Upon closer inspection, yes there was what looked to be a gunshot wound in his upper left thigh. There was fresh blood and dried blood on his thigh, leg, and foot.
I called Tim at work and he told me to give him 1000mg of moxicillian. I crushed it and an aspirin up into some catfood (we were out of dogfood), warm milk, and diced bologna. Nick ate it.
Now we wait until Tim the veterinarian gets home and gives our Nickaroni a more thorough examination.