Hola amigos! It's been awhile, quite awhile, since I last posted. We've experienced a great deal of upheaval since I last wrote; such is life! We planned, organized and designed my girlfriends wedding (it turned out amazing!); my grandmother, whom I had been caring for this past year, left this life in December; I rewrote our curriculum and we've welcomed an abundance of life and mourned our fair share of death on the farm in the last few months.

There's really too much to recount so I'll begin anew, with trying to hatch some eggs. As we have mating pairs of geese, turkeys, ducks and chickens, we decided to side step the whole buying of baby chicks this year. Of course, I'm sure we'll still pick up a few adorable associates along the way, we've decided to try and breed, hatch and raise our own butcher stock this year. My mother so kindly donated a mid-range incubator and I've spent the last two days pouring over poultry books trying to decipher exactly how to ensure a healthy hatching. After ascertaining that I'll most likely fail, I threw our clutch in the incubator, or as I've fondly begun to refer to it - The Eggzabator, last night. Included in our hatch hopefuls are 6 turkey eggs, 12 duck eggs and a lonely goose egg. The problem with incubating these three breeds together is that the duck and goose eggs need more humidity then do the turkey eggs. And since I can't figure out how to get the Eggzabator to get more humid, I just threw them all together and I'm innocently, or ignorantly, hoping for the best. I never said I was a great farmer, just an enthusiastic one!

Another wonderful addition to the 'stead is Whitney Houston. What a horrible name, you say? Yes, I do have to agree with you. Unfortunately, I had no say in this matter. The story is long and sad and sweet; I'll begin. Arwen was accidentally impregnated, through lackadaisical farm standards assuredly. We didn't even realize she was prego until a week before she delivered. The day of her birthing, February 12, I inspected her to see if she had any telltale discharge from her vagina, as usually occurs in almost laboring nannies. As discharge was discernibly absent, I relaxed and went about my day, to be culminated in a date night with my partner Nik.

6pm finds me looking pretty and ready to hit the town (the local bar) when my mom calls frantically saying that she heard splashing water in the barn. Now, as preface to what I've just relayed, I must explain that there are two houses on our property. My Mum lives closer to the Habitat (barn yard) and is always calling to say that the animals are making weird noises. Keep in mind weird noises are what barn yard animal do. A squawk this way to mean that, a quack that way to mean this. That's what they do. Anyhow, she calls to say she hears running water, or splashing in the back and she's worried there's a raccoon killing the goats or something. Nik and I run back to the Habitat, as we always do when my mother worries, and what do we find? Arwen, in labor, with two babies at her feet and a third halfway out. Now did I mention how cute I looked? I looked good! And here I was, about to kneel in the hay and blood and all sorts of fluid from a birthing mama goat. Why do I even try? Anyhow, after pushing the last baby free, Arwen immediately stands and starts licking clean the larger, brownish kid. The other two she ignores. At first I thought the first one she had birthed was dead. He was covered in amniotic fluid and didn't seem to be breathing. I cleaned his face and that of the last kid born. The larger one, the one Arwen immediately took to, was already up and around, nursing some of that excellent colostrum. I tried for quite some time to get her to nurse the other two; she just wouldn't. After about 30 minutes, I took the two small kids inside.

For the next two days I bottle fed them every few hours and tried to help them thrive. They began to walk about 12 hours after they were born and I had the highest of hopes. I even named them in the belief that my positive energy and love could help them thrive. I named them Zora Neale Hurston and Herman Hesse. Good, powerful names after favorite authors. Unfortunately, they both passed within 4 days of life. They both passed at Woodburn Veterinary Clinic, after lots of time, energy and money. During that time my mom took it upon herself to name the surviving kid. I was so busy with the two runts that I gave no thought to her naming choices. Whitney Houston... Oh woe! The travesty of her discretion on top of the death of two beloved babes! I was in a funk that was inescapable for a week.

Whitney is now healthy and happy and the light of our farming days. She's got more personality then a lot of folks I know and she's never above a romp. I choose to take every experience as a learning opportunity and try to never miss the simple joyful happenstances that can be found. Apart from being more careful of breeding mishaps, I've come to cherish Miss Whitney more then I had hoped as she symbolizes the dichotomy of birth and death, renewal and the passing of energies. And she loves to poo on Nik's favorite chair in the living room. His subsequent annoyance is the remedy for all that ills!

Happy wintering!

Finally, our new Goat Tractor!!!

After two years of desire, a year of failures and then another six months of planning, Penelope, Arwen, Big Mama and Maybelle finally have a comfortable new home! Sunday morning found us up early and shopping for lumber at the local lumber store. I'd much rather have scavenged construction materials from Craigslist, Freecycle or local construction sights, but my wonderful Mom offered to purchase all the materials new. And since we were unexpectedly scheduled to have the Tractor done before the first of September, we were left with few options.
That said, we began the actual building of the Tractor after hours of debate and price checking, in wonderful spirits and under the direction of the Lord of Construction, Aaron Reick. In addition to being an engineering student and a building guru, Aaron also happens to be the kids' Godfather. Despite personal constraints, Aaron not only designed and spearheaded our project, he worked and directed us for 12 hours on Sunday. What a guy!

I love this photo of Aaron, to the right. He spent much of Sunday in this pose. Kindly listening to our uniformed advice before respectfully teaching us how things are really done. Such patience! In addition to Aaron's assistance, Luke Russel and Mike Bird also lent their strong backs and nimble hands to our project. Without each of them, we'd never have been able to finish this project. Hero's I tell ya!
Mike and Jenny are our neighbors to the East and their kids Bryson and Carson also threw in their effort. Jason, Josh, Bryson and Carson nailed together the header over the doorway as well as offered us hours of entertainment.

At this point the Tractor is structurally finished. We're planning on painting this weekend and I'd like to find some corrugated metal roofing and a gutter on Craigslist to finish the roof. Then we'll pack bark chips and straw on the ground as a floor for the goats. After it's all finished we will re-fence the East side of the Habitat and fix up the coop. Then we'll be done for the year! I just can't wait to head back to the Habitat and see everyone happy and safe and warm in their specific homes. I'm thinking we'll try to plan a "Habitat Warming Party" sometime in September, so mark your calenders!

Maybelle

As yesterday was my mother's 58th birthday, you could find us checking Craigslist once an hour for something wonderful. And we found her! Her name is Maybelle and she is a goat of unknown breed.

She was bought by a family in Newberg at a livestock auction. The gentleman that bought her was shortly thereafter injured and unable to care for her. Maybelle was kept in a small dog run, all by her lonesome. She's an incredibly sweet goatie. On the ride home she continually tried to climb in the front seat, presumably because she thought she could drive better then me. We're thinking we'll breed and be able to milk her and Arwen by next spring. Yay!

Goats!

Here are the ladies! Soaking up the sun on the boardwalk; they usually jump right up when they see us coming, expecting treats and whatnot. Not today! It's supposed to get to 70 degrees today and you can tell that makes these ladies very happy!

This is Aunt Penelope. She was the first goat we brought home and we believe her to be 10 or 11 years old. Big Mama and Penelope have the same sire and were raised together as breeding pygmy's. Aunt Penelope's last pregnancy ended badly so she, just like me, is no longer able to bear children. We don't mind though because we love her and weren't planning on breeding her anyway!


This lovely lady is Big Mama. Big Mama is Arwen's mom. We got Arwen a year before we adopted her mom and Mama's a little standoffish. We believe her to 10 or 11 years old as well. She's very loving with Arwen and at this time, she's trying to teach Arwen how to head butt. It's very sweet to watch.

And this is Arwen! Arwen is full of life and vigor. She not afraid to come and rub her head along your legs, begging for a scratch. Arwen had polio when she was just a few months old and we were worried we were going to loose her. She's my special lady and we all love her dearly.