I'm in Business

Today was a heady day for me.

I took my creations of barn wood and old horse tack and Christmas greens, and bottles and little bits of this and that over to a local consignment shop.

I didn't even take the stuff out of the car, because I thought they might not be interested. I was already planning which shops I could get to next before it was time to pick the kids up.

Picture me walking up the steps with head hung low, with my fingers in an "L" on my forehead.

I told the ladies they should just come out to the car to take a look, rather than carry everything in and then back out again.

But when I opened the back of my little wagon?

They just about exploded with joy.

Those kind ladies from Rooted Ooohed and Aaahed. They exclaimed, they fawned. They swelled my head to about 10x its original size.

They. Took. Everything.

They helped me price everything, and I signed a contract. They asked me to bring them some tags for my items, and to set up an Instagram account.

And now? I'm in business.

Well, kinda-sorta. I just have some pieces in a consignment shop, but it was a big moment for me, let me tell you.

Here are a few pictures of some of my pieces. Hope you like them!

Wordless Wednesday

Sorry, no time for a Weight Loss Wednesday post today. Back to Wordless Wednesday for now. Returning to more weight loss tidbits this time next week.

And now for some wordlessness....









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If you'd like to vote for me, just click on the image below, then scroll down till you see my blog, then click on the vote button. You can vote once a day till the contest ends on 7/24. If I can keep in the top 25 I can get a cool badge to wear proudly on my blog!




XOXO!


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Wordless Wednesday

Now that the fence is finished, the horses are loving their new field!!!!








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I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
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Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
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And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.

Farm Friday

Nothing new in the farming department, but I'm tired of reposting old stuff.

I do have two small updates for you, so I'll just share them.


Like Miss Kitty, our little pregnant stray.

No kittens yet, but she continues to amaze me at how large her belly is capable of growing.




You may notice she now appears to be inside the house instead of on the porch.
That's because she's, well, inside the house.
Yes, I'm a sucker.



The other update is our fence.

Our neighbors that adjoin our lower field had torn down our hedgerow and ramshackle fence, with the promise of erecting a new wooden post and rail fence. I was thrilled, because it meant a nice new fence at zero cost to us.

And yet, that was two years ago.

Which means we haven't been able to use that field at all because there is nothing to contain the critters.

So just a few days ago I said to Fred, I said, I'm going to go out and get me a whole bunch of t-posts and barbed wire and start putting that up just to put the fear of God in them.

Well, they must have heard me, because I came home from work a couple days ago and saw their fence had been started. It's still got many yards to go before it's all fenced in, but it looks like they've got all the lumber laid out and ready to finish.

So it appears that very soon I shall be able to open the gate and let the horses in to graze on that long, luscious grass that hasn't been munched on in a couple years.

They will be very happy.

It's the stuff of dreams.

If you're a horse.



Anyway, here's hoping that the next installment of Farm Friday will have pictures of newborn kitties and pictures of happy horses.

Have a great weekend!



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I've no time for fun.
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If you have a question that just can't wait,
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Farm Friday: Weaning Finn

Apologies for another dusted off post from my old blog. I'll eventually adjust to my new work schedule.
Won't I?

This was from about two years ago when I was putting Finnegan through the weaning process....


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I'm finally starting the weaning process for Finnegan. You know, our blue-eyed colt that you got way TMI on regarding his recent testicular incident?



Yeah, him.



He is a hopeless Mama's Boy. He is still nursing at one year. I know I should have weaned him about six months ago, but I don't really have the proper facilities to separate them in cold weather, as I only have one barn. Not even a small run-in shed.



I know some folks subscribe to the method of completely removing the foal from the dam. As in they ship one off to be boarded at someone ele's farm till the deed is done.



Not to be judgemental or nothin', but that's not an idea I could get behind.



First off, it places a terrible stress on both Mama and baby when they're removed from each other so suddenly. Neither one knows what's going on, Mama turns her Mother Bear switch on when her baby is taken from her and who can blame her? They pace, they cry, they scream, they gnash their teeth

you say grazing I say gnashing, tom-ay-to, tom-ah-to.



Second, as a fellow mammal who has formerly nursed, I can tell you right here and now that cold-turkey weaning could be considered a form of torture. If it could be applied to men, it would be banned by the Geneva Convention.



At least when it was time for my babies to say goodbye to the boobies, I could do it on my own terms. And if the pressure

pun intended

got too much for me, I could always jump in a nice hot shower to express my discomfort

pun intended again.



So I'd much rather keep them together, within sight, within ear shot, just maybe separated by a fence.



Even that can be difficult. Tuesday I put Genevieve in the side pen and gave her a nice big tub of fresh water (of course, I had my kids haul about 10 buckets of water to fill it for me) and a few forks of hay. Pippin and Finn were in the field. At first they were visibly distraught even by this small degree of separation, and Finn wouldn't stray far from the fence, but as the day wore on they seemd to settle into this new turn of events.



After a spell, Finn did as any young boy will do, and went off to explore muddier fields with his brother. Gen would cry and pace a bit but eventually settle. And Finn would check in with her from time to time. Throw the poor old hag a bone.

Is this what it will be like when my kids leave for college?



My plan is to increase periods of separation gradually so the demand on her milk supply will also decrease gradually. Purest example of supply and demand I can think of. More comfortable for Genevieve, my sister in lactation.



The weather has played nicely into things because the next day we had threats of severe wind and thunderstorms. So when I got home with the groceries, I quick ran out to the side pen, (hoping the ice cream wouldn't melt), talked to her and pet her for a few minutes, then let her reunite with her baby. They immediately ran to each other and snuggled, then he checked out what was on tap and drank his fill.



Storms over on Thursday morning, and back into the pen for Gen. I'll keep her in there for two or three days this time, then let them briefly reunite. After that, a week.



So if my plan works out as I've intended, Gen will be all done with the whole nursing scene for the first time in many years. She was kind of a rescued broodmare and I believe Finn was her 8th foal in about 10 years. Yikes.



I'm all for large families, but my hat's off to this girl.







Here's Finnegan on his birthday last year in early June. Cute, right?







This is Finn and his brother Pippin about three months before going under the knife.


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Post note:








And here he is last summer, bigger than his brother. How quickly they grow...





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If you have a question that just can't wait,
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Farm Friday: Farm-ily Planning

It's that time of year again.

T minus twelve days till the vernal equinox.

Time to let my overactive gardening and farming ambitions get the better of me.

Let the delusional planning begin.



Where I had my pumpkins last year? I want to put in cucumbers.

The kids eat 'em like candy as soon as they come in, and we never seem to have enough.


All along the whole long stone wall? I want to try pumpkins again. They'll get more sunlight there, and I'm hoping that will mean the difference.







As in, maybe we'll actually get a few.



And I'll put sweet potatoes in the secret garden.


Termaters and peppers and herbs and scallions and assorted yumminies in the actual vegetable garden.



And I haven't even gotten started on the animals.


I'm gonna get 50 cornish-rock chickens to split with my friend Theresa.






Since I'm ordering poultry anyway, I'll probably throw in a few more layers. And I've always wanted a few ducks, maybe I'll get me some runners. Should I get a turkey or two?


And there's the building projects.

I want to make a hay feeder to keep in the upper field, and maybe a chicken tractor for the meat birds, and I want to build a little pen to keep a few hens in the garden to till it up some before I plant stuff.

And do I maybe want to get a pig?

Or a cow?

If I do, I'll need to make a few updates to my fencing and gates.

On a smaller scale, maybe I'll get a buck for my Alice and start breeding Flemish Giants.  They're so cool.







Buzz...buzz.....buzz.......buzz....




Time to wake up.

Wake up to reality. 

Chicken coop?  Not finished.  Not even clean.

The barn is a wreck.  A tangle of wood scraps and cobwebby chicken wire and knotted baling twine and busted palates and empty feed bags.

You could say just about the same for my house.

Finding time for more projects? Two of my three horse aren't even broke to ride.

My dog's claws look like something out of Guinness.

And I just started back to work!

The only talk of vegetables should be what's on sale at the store.

The only talk of critters should be whose turn it is to clean up the dog poop and bring in the eggs.




Someone please hit me over the head with a shovel.

Just not one of my shovels from the barn.



I've been meaning to clean that.....




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Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.

Wordless Wednesday

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Rudeness disclaimer:

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I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.

Farm Friday: I'm on Christmas Break

Here's a repost from my old blog.
I have ribbons and bows and boxes to put away....


It's Friday. Farm Friday.

But it's been pretty quiet on the farm lately. No injuries or illnesses, no escapees, no births, no deaths.

Maybe I'll just jot down a quick list of what I like about each of the critters. Not as individuals, mind you, but as groups. Just the farm critters, not the dogs and cats and small caged animals.


The Horses

What's not to love about horses, right? Well, except maybe their poop. And their mud. And oh yeah, their burrs.

Still, plenty to love.

I love the way they smell.

I love their sleek coats in the summer and their fuzzy coats in the winter.

I love when they blow their sweet grassy breath into your nose, and their curiosity.

I love to sit on the bare back of my mare Genevieve in the cold weather, not even riding anywhere, just draping myself across her neck and soaking up her warmth.

I love Pippin's doggish friendliness.

I love Finnegan's .... looks. Not much else to like about that one. But he sure is handsome.



The Goats

I love that they will eat anything. I wish my youngest could be so bold in what he chooses to eat.

I love that they keep the grass and weeds down in the boggier parts of our property that would suck a tractor up and never say a word about it.

I love that they mow the steep hillside we can't take the tractor onto without fear of it taking a swan dive into the pond.

I love how they come running over to the deck when you call them for some goodies.

I love their absolute adorableness.



The Rabbits

OK, they have no purpose, I'll admit it. They're just so stinkin' cute. Especially Alice, our soft grey Flemish Giant who is roughly the size of a Springer Spaniel.



Our Chickens

Our only "productive" farm animals.

I love the clucks and chatters of my sweet hens.

I love their good looks.

I love their soft, glossy backs.

I love the out-of-this-world-fresh-and-yummy eggs they give us every day without fail.

How about you?  If you have farm critters, what's your favorite kind?



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Rudeness disclaimer:

I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.

Farm Friday: Straight From the Horse's Mouth

Couple weeks ago, the farrier was here.
And in the process of holding my pony Finnegan while he was getting his feet trimmed, I found myself with my hand inside his mouth.

OK, in looking back at that, I realize there are a whole lot of misplaced modifiers, let me  clarify...

*I was holding the pony, not the farrier. I don't mean I wasn't holding the farrier (please allow me a second to daydream......OK, I'm back), I mean the farrier wasn't holding the pony, I was.
*The pony, not the farrier, was getting his feet trimmed.
*My hands were inside the pony's mouth, not the farrier's mouth (please allow me...oh never mind, I need to get a move on, here).











ANYway, when my hand was inside the pony's mouth (and I have no idea why it was really there), I cut my thumb on something razor-sharp.

That's odd, I thought. Pony's teeth aren't really all that sharp.

So I did a quick on-the-spot dental exam, and realized one of Finn's incisors appeared to be broken. The top part, where it meets the gum, was pulling forward, and seemed like the whole tooth was about to come out. YIKES!  Without their incisors, they can't graze.  Without grazing, they can't eat, without eating, they can't live.  This was serious!

Soon as the farrier left (sigh), I called the vet, whose number I have committed to memory.

I explained the situation to the receptionist, and she put the vet on the line.

I recapped the sitch to the vet, and asked,

Is this something I need the vet for, or should I call the equine dentist?

Well, he says, how old is your horse?

Two and a half, says I.

If he's two and a half, that sounds like he's losing a cap.

That sounds serious.

Not at all.  At around that age, a horse's permenant tooth starts to come in, and it pushes the cap out.

So when can you come out?

I don't think I need to come out.  This is a perfectly normal process.  He'll do this again in about a year, and then the year after that until all his permenant teeth are in.

So how much will it cost me?

You don't seem to understand.  This is normal.  His tooth isn't broken.  The cap is just pushing out.

If I can find some other problems for you to work on while you're here, will I get a discount?

Nothing's broken!  There's nothing to fix!

I don't....I don't understand.  Horse.  Tooth.  Problem.  Vet.  Money.  That's the way it works.

I.  Don't.  Need.  To.  See. Your.  Horse.

Well, I guess if you're all booked up right now, I'll try to keep an eye on him.  If he doesn't appear to be in discomfort, and he seems to be eating OK and not dropping weight, then we'll just sit on this for a bit.

OK.  That sounds like a plan.  You call me if he starts to lose weight.

OK, Doc, thanks....




(Sheesh, you can't get good help when you need it.)



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Rudeness disclaimer:

I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.

I-Need-Therapy-Thursday: Horses Gone Wild

Rosie's home from soccer.

The boys are home from their morning job.

The pot roast is in the crock pot, and the kids are peeling up a storm for mashed potatoes.

It's laptop time....

I hear a knock on the door and think, "this can't be good". None of the neighbor kids come to play b/c, quite frankly, we kind of scare the bejesus out of them.

We get the occassional Jehovah's Witness, but not too often.

I'll bet Annabelle got out again. Her Invisible Fence collar has been on the fritz lately.

Can't hear what's being said over the din of the 42 five hounds of hell.

"Mommmmmm!"

Oh no.

"Our neighbor just said our horses are out."

Cripes.

That was the start of The Great Escape debaucle this past Sunday afternoon.

And I didn't handle it very well.

I threw on shoes, and grabbed my carkeys and a dog leash and ran out the door with Julie at my heels.

We found the errant horses only about 1/4 mile down the road, but they were all skittery b/c they're not used to the sound of their own feet clip-cloppin' on pavement, or cars driving by.

Only one of them had a halter on, and in my haste I had only brought one lead rope dog leash.

How to puzzle this out....

I walked slowly over to Pippin, the calmest and friendliest of the trio, and put the leash around his neck so the snap passed through the hand loop.

Sent Julie back to the house for more leads and halters, and some apples.

After she ran off, I was able to walk up to Finnegan and snap the free end of the leash to his halter, so the two ponies were connected together by the same rope, and I was standing in front of both of them.

Hmmmm. This was a recipe for decapitation.

I decided against trying to walk them that way, b/c no way in hell would that end well.

I waited awkwardly for Julie's return, while feeling a dozen judgemental eyes boring into my soul from curious neighbors. I knew what they were thinking....
How could she be so careless with her animals?
Why is she just standing there?
Why are they leashed?
Why are they so unkempt?
Why is she so unkempt?

I wanted to announce that I had just de-burred their manes and tails two days earlier and it's not my fault the tractor is broken and we can't mow the pasture and they're all full of burrs again and I would have done it today but I had to plunge a toilet and clean up a dog vomit and put away the two dozen cans of Progresso soup I got last Friday with the coupoons I ordered and the Pioneer Woman was on! But I didn't think I would be doing myself any favors.

After an eternity, Julie got back. I clipped each of the ponies on their own lead, but Genevieve would have nothing to do with us.

So I started leading the ponies back home, hoping Gen would follow along after her boys.

She did.

And I got them tucked safely back in the side pen, and sent a couple of the kids over to the neighbor with a dozen eggs to say thanks for the neighborhood watch.  I commenced a check of the fence line.

Ah hah. A gate was open.

Curious.



Fast forward to yesterday.

Another knock on the door.

Another neighbor, letting one of my kids know my horses were out.

Again.

This time I was more prepared. I grabbed three leads and two halters. And my camera.
Daniel got the apples, but as his pants had no pockets, he put them in his shirt pockets. He looked.... interesting. A buxom young lad.

And we headed off down the road in search of our runaways.

We ran into Henry, one of our Amish neighbors. He looked me and my gender-confused looking son up and down for a minute and then said,

"You lookin' for your horses?"

Since we were walking down the road looking left right and backwards, armed with halters and leads, it was a pretty good guess.

He let me know that if I walked up the hill and through the field I would find them.

And we did. And we did.

And once again we got them back, but not without a great deal of stress and sweat and angst and judgemental neighbors.

And as it turns out? Some rotten neighbor kids are opening the gate and letting them out. The country version of smashing mailboxes, I guess. So right after I got Daniel to school, I headed straight for WalMart for chains and padlocks. And now all three gates are locked up good and tight, and I just needs me a shotgun to set on the porch with.

I sent another dozen eggs out to the second watchful neighbor.

And now I'm almost out of eggs.  Maybe along with the shotgun, I need more chickens....



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Thanks!



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In case you didn't know it, I'm like the queen of blog-hoppin' lately. It's kind of like square dancing but without the dated outfits, smelly gym, and elderly caller.

Here's the schedule I keep:
Monday: Homestead Revival's Barn Hop, Natural Living Mamma's Natural Living Mondays, The Chicken Chick's Clever Chicks, A Cat-Like Curiosity's Monday Mantras, Ponder Wonder's Soul Food Monday and @ Home Take 2's Mom's Monday Mingle
Tuesday: Heavenly Homemaker's Gratituesday, Crafty Garden Mama's Tuesday Greens, and The Wrinkled Mommy's Tuesday Archive Link-Up
Wednesday: My Life and Kids Finding the Funny, Tilly's Nest's Down Home, and Crafty Spices Wordless Wednesday
Thursday: A Rural Journal's Rural Thursday Blog Hop, and Two In Diapers' Mommy Brain Mixer
Friday: Deborah Jean's Dandelion House's Farmgirl Friday, Fresh Eggs Daily's FarmGirl Friday, Little Becky Homecky's Fantabulous Friday, @Home Take 2's Weekend Blog Walk, and Oh So Amelia's Friday Chaos
Saturday: Camera Critter's Life With Dogs Pet Blogger Hop, and Tutus and Tea Parties' Pinteresting Party.


Since today is Thursday, that means I'm linking up my post "Chicken ADHD" with A Rural Journal's Rural Thursday Blog Hop; and "Coffee Clatch" with Two In Diapers' Mommy Brain Mixer




Come join the fun!



****************

Rudeness disclaimer:

I love all your comments,
I read every one!
But I can't hit 'reply',
I've no time for fun.
Please don't judge me,
Please don't hate.
If you have a question that just can't wait,
Send me an email at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com,
And I'll answer right back because I'm, you know, the Mom.

Farm Friday - Floating

Couple weeks ago I had the vet out for a farm call. Horses and goats were due for shots.

Horses also needed their teeth floated.

For all you non-horsey folk, floating means filing

(I have no idea why).

Big, long, metal rasp gets shoved in their mouth and scraped back and forth over their teeth while their mouth is held open with a speculum, which closely resembles some kind of horrific medieval torture device.

The speculum is new to my vet's practice. They used to just use an unobtrusive little mouth guard, till one of the vets got his pinky finger bit off.

It's all fun and games till someone gets their finger bit off.

While it may be safer for the vets, the horses are not pleased with the process.

They require sedation.

Would you sit still for such a procedure?

Yeah. Me neither.

Bella and I captured a few pictures for you....


















































Now everyone go call up your dentists and thank them.



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Thanks for stopping by.
If you like my blog, I hope you'll be able to take a minute to add yourself as a follower.
Come back soon! I'm here every day, rain or shine...

~Anne


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I'm linking up today's post with the barn hop at Deborah Jean's Dandelion House. Come check it out!















(Vintage Apron patterns)

Farm Friday - The Testicles Have Left the Building

Author's Note #1: I can use this title for my blog post and still maintain my G (PG?) rating, because it's all in the name of animal husbandry.


Author's note #2: I wrote this post a little more than a year ago (on my other blog), but I thought I would repost it, as I have nothing else going on right now farm-wise for Farm Friday. Plus it's educational and I'm all about bringing things educational to my readers.

So here goes.....


Ah spring. I love the smell of antiseptic in the morning.

Today was the fateful day my yearling Finnegan was scheduled to get clipped. To change from colt to eunuch.

And I have captured it all on film for posterity.

If you tend to the squeamish, look away, look away now.
For there will be blood.
There will be body parts.....


Finnegan the yearling stud-muffin.










Starting to feel all woozy now that the juice is kicking in.








Down for the count.










Prepped and ready for surgery.









Vet M: "C'mon, buddy, where are your balls?"

And yes, he meant that quite literally.
They were being elusive and M had to go on an early Easter egg hunt.












Wait for it, wait for it.....











....and they're OUT!











The anesthesia has begun to wear off, but he's not ready for running around. M is tail surfing here to keep Finn's hindquarters upright and to keep him from taking off at a drunken gallop.












I'll call...on..my brother,when I need a hand,we all need somebody to lea-ean on.











I want my Mommy!















Afterwards, I headed inside and cleaned up, then picked up the phone to call my neighbor. She had asked if I could let her know when Finn got gelded. She wanted to turn her horses (including a mare) into the field adjoining my pasture, and didn't want any fence shananigans from Young, Handsome and Intact.

So I said, "Hey Sandy, it's your neighbor, Anne. Just wanted to let you know the testicles have left the building. My pasture is now a testicle-free zone."

Most neighbors ask to borrow a cup of sugar, or the snow-blower.

But if you're my neighbor, you're gonna get testicle talk.



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Come back soon! I'm here every day, rain or shine...

~Anne


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I'm linking up my post I Have Arrived with Six Suitcase Travel's Family Travel Blog Hop today. Come check it out!



Also? It's Friday, so that means it's Farmgirl Friday at Deborah Jean's Dandelion House. I'm linking up today's post over there. Come on over!