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Monday, June 1, 2015

Random Randomings

I have realized that I don't have photographs because I always am using both of my hands for other things.  Maybe I should volunteer for a biotic camera eye.  Is there such a thing?  Flash coming out of my left ear, printed shot spit out (literally) ala Polaroids?  Remember Polaroids, you young whippersnappers?  Of course you don't.

There is a lot going on on the Little Lucky, as usual.  Having my sister living near our parents is such a blessing that I cannot even express it in words.  And that is saying a lot, coming from one who is never at a loss for words, but uses way too many...  it has given me the gift of time - a more precious gift, I cannot imagine.

Saturday morning I was trying my best to multi-task (and failing miserably - when will I learn?), trying to get laundry done and on the line (rain forecast for Saturday night through Sunday - YES!) Doing chores and trying to get the giant Chocolate Lab (aka Dexter) out for some exercise.  It's like an actual rodeo - without the skilled cowgirl.  The way it works is like this:

I reach over the walls of his stall and try to catch his collar.  Meanwhile, his hard, hard BIG noggin is weaving and bobbing because he is excited!  After narrowly missing dislocating my shoulder, I snag the D ring and clip on his lead.  Then I unlatch the gate and.... WHEE HAW.  We both get our cardiovascular exercise.  I have had the foresight to move llama and sheep to a safe distance with two gates in between.  Once he gets the initial hysteria out of his system, I unhook the lead and let him run around for a while.  Then I sneak around and get his bucket ready.  He knows his name and when he hears me call, it means breakfast/dinner.  He races in the barn and into his stall and sinks his head up to his ears in his bucket.  While the Hoover vacuums up the milk replacer, I gingerly set the bucket down and then race to the back and re-hook the gate to his stall.  He finishes and pounds the bucket around, bucks and carries on, then settles down for his little scoop of grain.  Then his little mound of highly-expensive, difficult to come by third-cutting hay.  Yes, the little prince will only eat this hay.  While he's coming along, my huge backlog of chores and projects make this process less than ideal, but the only option for some time.  I have decided to sell him.

Speaking of backlog of projects, I decided to cave in and farm out (so to speak) the cleaning of the run in shed - the sheepies' and llama's summer quarters.  So I can add clean up of barn and paddocks to my list right after I cross off 'clean the run in shed' - vicious circle, no?  I have asked every able bodied teenager of the male persuasion that I or anyone I know, knows.  The result?  A lot of whining.  Geezloueeze.  I went on Facebook and asked locally - and I am paying $10 an hour, for Nat's sake.  The only response I got was from a woman.  I have great trepidation for the future of this country.

This youngish woman is an elder care giver who's last patient passed away, leaving her with lots of time on her hands.  I like her - she is just getting into chickens and loves them - but there are issues.  She doesn't drive.  (WHAT?  Why in God's name would you move yourself into the middle of rural nowhere with no means of getting around?  She is married with a 9 y/o son.  I am flabbergasted.)  She, son and Hubby came out yesterday in the rain to see the chickens.  It was then I was informed that, should I need her to work for me, Hubby would have to drive her and would drop her and Son off.  This child, interesting as he is, was into everything he could get his hands on within three seconds of landing on my driveway.  I volunteered to pick her up.  Alone.

And, on the subject of children - of which I am no expert whatsoever, being totally an observer of other people's children - what is with the "I want", "I want" thing?  He wanted my rooster, two of my chickens, the llama, with a stamp of his 9 y/o foot after every demand.  Good grief.  The Hubby followed behind, murmuring, "he's so smart, he knows ALL about animals and plants...", while his mother offered to trade him for one of my dogs.  As if.

The Nuggets have been moved.  And I have the 15,000 steps on Fitbit to prove it.  While I am so happy that we finally got a measurable amount of rain - it made the day rather cold and damp.  I had to refit the tarp around the hoophouse (wiring the grommets to the frame this time), patch a mysterious hole in said tarp, make sure that there no obvious drafts, which meant affixing plastic in key areas, refitting a door (wherein I discovered that my memory of a hook and eye closure in the tool box was pure fantasy), setting up the big BIG feeder and waterer, setting up the electronet (not hooked up yet because I ran out of light and steam, not necessarily in that order).  Then I had to transport the meatballs from the brooder to the hoophouse.  That is, almost literally, from one end of the LLF to the opposite end.  Up the steps to the deck, down the steps off the deck, through two gates.  All 23 of them.  By the last transport, I was not tenderly lifting them from box to floor, let's just say.

All during this activity, I was the epitome of high fashion - torn muck shoes, grey, soggy socks (which started the day as white, dry socks), sweat pants, wet to the knees, sweatshirt, all covered with my dad's old mechanics coveralls and my favorite billed cap.  Wowza!  I am so shocked that I am still single.

15 comments:

  1. you crack me up! i can just picture all of it!

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    1. Jaz - Just be thankful you didn't see it in action...

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  2. As usual, you exhaust and entertain me with your writing. Sounds like lots of good things going on, actually, even though you need a crew of 6 to handle all the work you do.

    As for the gal who answered your add to help with the cleaning of the run in shed . . . I will over-step boundaries and suggest you get rid of her . . . pronto. I may be all wrong, but you have to go pick her up? And take her back home? Or her (brat of a) 9 year old son has to come with her? He who has no respect for your property? And the father thinks his son is so smart? So smart he doesn't need to be disciplined and taught how to act in front of another adult and know how to handle himself? Sounds like it could develop into big trouble to me. (You know, dear Sweezie, you have every right to tell me to go take a long walk on a short pier . . . I have no right to tell you what to do.) I just don't want to see you get taken advantage of . . . and you are such a good, nice, bend-over-backwards for other people person.

    Glad you finally got some rain.

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    1. I'm with the wise Mama Pea on this one---the whole time reading this--I kept thinking this hired woman is going to be a problem. GET RID OF HER. You don't need more drama..............

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    2. Mama Pea (and Sue) - It's tough being desperate, but sometimes you just gotta grit your teeth. I plan on placing firm boundaries and, although I tend toward the marshmallow variety of determination at times, I plan on firmly holding the boundaries.

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  3. Susan,

    You've got Dexter trained with responding to his name, and going back to the barn. I think that's great. Or does Dexter have you trained with getting him food, lol......
    I love reading your posts......but need to make sure I don't read them while drinking my coffee. It burns when it ends up coming out of my nose while laughing.

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    1. Sandy - In all cases on my place, it's the animals that have me trained. Right down to the humming birds.

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  4. I don't want pictures...I want VIDEO of all this going on!

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    1. Carolyn - It would definitely be like one of those jerky, indie films - most likely out of focus. And I would definitely have to mute the sound....

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  5. I think I'd find another employee, somehow, somewhere; just sayin'.

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    1. Michelle - Believe it or not, I have been looking, asking around and now advertising for over three years.

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  6. I had to offer $50 to 3 people before someone came and cleaned out our small chicken house. Like you, I'm scared for our country.

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    1. SFG - Geez, had I known, I would have come over and cleaned it for you!

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  7. I love the images you bring to mind!
    A farm Fashionista! I remember one winter evening heading in to the 11 pm calving check...hey I would make it easy, slip parka over house coat and nightie, pull on snow boots and head to the barn. I was jut about to leave the confines of a nice warm barn full of very pregnant cows when I hear a vehicle come down the driveway! Yep the weird single guy up the road on his way home from the bar decides he should visit the weird single woman! I love my cows...they kept me company while I waited for him to leave after shutting off all the lights in the barn and waiting for what seemed like hours! Humnnn have you had stray visitors when your at your worst farm wear nightmare? Take care and hang in there!

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    1. Fiona - Oh, I had a good laugh at that! Thank goodness you had your cows to keep you company. And cows do not judge our fashion sense (or lack thereof).

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