tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327926322012-01-22T17:44:05.819-08:00Leaping Lamb Farm is a small 40 acre farm nestled in the Coast Range of Oregon. Our animal escapades often are the work of one horse, Tater, whose mission in life is to free any farm animal locked behind a gate, usually in the middle of the night. Apparently, we are not alone in this experience.Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.comBlogger1151100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-84607832950014098852012-01-16T18:54:00.001-08:002012-01-22T16:09:04.236-08:00

This is a story told mostly by Tater, through photos of himself and his girlfriend Moralecia, because no one quite appreciates snow like a horse locked up for endless rainy days in a loafing shed. The blanket has become itchy; the ground in the turn-out area muddy and deep; the donkey is cranky; life has become boring; and, the sheep are just plain stupid IMO. And then one morning we wake up to

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-56287723524148847662011-12-13T20:17:00.000-08:002011-12-13T20:36:31.632-08:00

When I was nine or ten, my parents bought me my first horse. Actually, he was a large pony from Old MacDonald’s Farm, a local petting zoo. I have no idea why the farm was selling him, except he liked to bite. He was black and white, with a thick neck and big head. I thought he was beautiful. My own pony. I had dreamed about this day for years; well, at least since I was eight.As I remember,

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-42416806668178707722011-04-27T22:44:00.000-07:002012-01-16T12:19:34.025-08:00

As if lambing season isn't enough to deal with in the spring, our larger feathered friends and livestock took a hit in April. Turns out everyone in the woods is hungry by the time winter is retreating and raccoons are not dissuaded by the size of a bird, be it a peacock or a turkey.The first casualty was Fred, our magnificent 20 year old peacock (sure, not a turkey, but he needs to be mentioned)

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-69517204671722224472011-04-12T21:55:00.000-07:002011-11-21T22:31:44.158-08:00

For most of us who raise lambs for market and not for show, vets are not part of our landscape, even when things go wrong. An average ewe sells for about $50. A vet visit to the farm starts at $125. It's hard math at the end of the day, but sometimes it's a hard decision. This past weekend was just hard. We like to cull our ewes (sell them) when they birth small lambs, but culling older ewes

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-33569288612446938512011-04-05T23:35:00.000-07:002011-11-21T22:39:05.600-08:00

March may or may not have come in like a lion but it went out with lambs. I mean, we had lambs everywhere and mostly over just one weekend. On April Fool's Day, the joke on us was whether we could be sure who's lambs were who's because we hadn't had a chance to tag in two days and there seemed to be babies everywhere!We have white lambs and black lambs and brown lambs and spotted lambs. We have

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-34101674356683605172011-03-16T16:38:00.000-07:002011-04-16T23:20:41.900-07:00

I'm a little late with the news, but then, the lambs were early and they were a surprise.I suppose I should know by now that, if we are in a hurry, something unexpected will likely upset a typical morning routine like feeding. This particular morning Annie was getting ready for a vet school interview and we had left time to go over hypothetical questions and practice answers. Wishing to get

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-83302794054145380832011-02-24T23:21:00.000-08:002011-04-16T15:07:30.550-07:00

In the summer when the grass has dried and gone brown, we have had cases of disappearing sheep because our fields are not fenced against the mountain. So, it was with some surprise to realize we had lost sheep on this winter day.When I went to feed in the early evening it appeared only half the herd had shown up at the barn. There's a regular routine of fields to rotate through, back to the

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-57077558626593769852011-02-16T22:46:00.000-08:002011-04-16T13:28:57.857-07:00

This is a post script to Mouse Traps Gone Missing because I am officially labeling this the 'Winter of Mice'. Rather like a rodent El Nino, although one can probably say that about most winters in the country. We live in a house that is warmer on the inside than the outside, at least as old farm houses go. Mice like to be warm, so they see nothing wrong in setting up residence with us, despite

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-48532929855144352542011-01-23T12:09:00.000-08:002011-01-23T23:20:17.280-08:00

It wasn't that Laura was lost, but that we had a message for her. The dentist was coming to our small community, and the clinic had saved her a spot since she had complained of a tooth ache. The word had gone out. If anyone saw Laura, they were to pass along the message. This Wednesday. Please confirm.The issue with getting a message to Laura was that she lived in the woods above our farm

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-78986171738438742682011-01-11T21:32:00.000-08:002011-04-12T21:52:38.394-07:00

Old farm houses like ours have resident mouse populations. It just comes with the territory. It's probably true that their claim to the property goes back farther than ours in terms of genealogy. So, does this make them super mice or something? I ask this because my mouse traps have been disappearing at an alarming rate. I set them at night and they are gone by morning. Is this some sort of

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-34643270224819352732010-12-27T22:46:00.001-08:002011-03-24T00:46:38.697-07:00

When turkeys are born late in the spring and survive a raccoon attack because they are so small they are still living in the kitchen, there's a good chance they won't be 'ready' for either Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner. What to do? Well, we end up feeding them instead of eating them! We now have five indeterminate turkeys because they haven't grown old enough to tell for sure whether they

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-52371831815790420472010-11-29T21:45:00.001-08:002011-03-24T00:06:25.582-07:00

We were very careful this year with our rams and our ewes. Red is related to half our flock, as in paternal relations. It would be no good to breed him to his daughters and granddaughters, especially when our vet-in-training is trying to improve the herd, not create freaks of nature. But, as the saying goes, "the grass is greener on the other side" and Red and Duke (our other ram) decided, just

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-79305203201387828652010-11-10T01:18:00.000-08:002011-03-16T19:22:49.910-07:00

It has taken seven years, but we have joined the ranks of rural roof repair. We have resorted to a tarp. I did, however, put my boot down at a blue one.We have had a leak in one of the upstairs bathrooms for a while now. Maybe five years. It's not a problem unless it's raining. Let's just say that for the four months of summer, when we are relatively rain-free, we are good to go and the

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-90316663855789476192010-10-24T22:18:00.000-07:002010-11-16T01:02:39.154-08:00

You will remember that Peeps is our third rooster. Third as in pecking order third. He's a great bird, but life has become cruel in the chicken yard and he's hiding more and more in the chicken coop. Something is wrong. Peeps is in trouble.I noticed he was starting to languish. I counted on my fingers. How old was Peeps? I think at least 6, which is old for a chicken. Was he dying of old

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-71481653343258660142010-10-03T22:21:00.000-07:002010-10-04T22:24:09.837-07:00

It was a fall day today of no particular note. The golden leaves of the alder trees dropped at the hint of wind, onto ground covered with brilliantly green fall grass. The sky was blue, yet clouds edged in with the afternoon, adding a hint of autumn to a weekend that boasted t-shirts. Despite all this normality, it was not a normal day for the farm. Today was Chaco's day to die. A

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-94822764211078112010-09-22T21:48:00.000-07:002010-11-16T01:02:52.848-08:00

There's nothing better than smelling fresh cut hay and imagining a barn full of it. There is nothing worse than days of rain falling on fresh cut hay and turning it black with mold. It's enough to make you cry. Your neighbor too. She could smell that hay all the way up at her barn. I think I hear her crying now.We've only tried for a second cutting of hay once before and, while it was hard to

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-67076776190548583902010-09-13T15:18:00.000-07:002011-01-23T13:55:25.615-08:00

Every farmer I know is complaining about their gardens and fields this year. The long, cool, wet summer has stunted the growth of many plants, marked others with brown spots, and left the rest unripened. I understand the good year - bad year cycle but I am going into the second year with few apples and plums and absolutely no pears.If you like green beans, this is your year. Every cool veggie

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-58920875397074288822010-08-23T22:58:00.000-07:002010-11-16T01:05:32.312-08:00

Tater has ramped up his trouble-making. I used to compare him to a teenager. I would like to revise this to a two-year-old. You know, the two-year-old that likes to open every kitchen cabinet he can find and pull all the pots out. How about the cabinets that have the cleaning supplies?Today he figured out how to open a door into the barn that uses an old style latch with a weight. How did he

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-83572868557974462642010-08-06T01:06:00.001-07:002010-09-22T21:34:27.648-07:00

They say chickens have a brain the size of a pea. So then why do they look so guilty when I catch them on the outside of the chicken yard. Could it be because they have dug up the new cucumber plants for the third time which means we won't be growing any cucumbers this summer?I like free-range chickens, really I do. They eat slugs and all sorts of bugs. They fertilize as they move through the

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-73000769434699671662010-07-20T00:27:00.001-07:002010-08-10T00:47:23.965-07:00

It hadn't hit 90 degrees all summer. The day we pulled our hay out of the field, the temperature soared and the hay gods laughed.We learned from previous years not to call out crew to show up too early. I always thought 9 a.m. was a good time to start, but, in the Coast Range, the dew is still heavy enough in summer to sit on the hay and cause problems if we bale it wet. Teenage boys don't like

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-27358447501781616912010-07-12T23:55:00.000-07:002010-08-10T00:12:58.074-07:00

When you risk your life to steal eggs from the turkeys, just so you can incubate them and try to be more successful at raising poults to a Thanksgiving weight, it doesn't seem quite fair to get half way to the goal line and have a raccoon change the end game. There are so many calculated steps to raising turkeys in the best of situations. And for what?Maybe if I hadn't just looked at the

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-77075003780621657012010-06-26T07:45:00.000-07:002010-07-20T01:13:51.733-07:00

If you have two neighbors, a daughter, and a visiting couple, how long does it take to worm, trim hooves, and give shots to 64 sheep? Sounds like a light bulb joke, but it isn't. The good news is, not that long once the system is established and the sheep get with the plan.With a pre-vet in the family and a keen focus on reducing worm-load for health and weight gain this year, we have set

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-89713155406496857902010-06-21T15:34:00.001-07:002010-07-20T00:26:33.261-07:00

Farmer Jones has an alter-ego that never stoops while it works in the garden. A leg will flap in the breeze and his hat blows off from time to time, but the flesh tones of the face and the bright red lips can make a person stop and stare for a moment just to make sure the figure in the garden really isn't the Farmer himself. The crows, unfortunately, are not fooled and the corn has had to be

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-39127154819024863962010-05-26T01:09:00.000-07:002010-07-20T01:15:00.376-07:00

For a bird that tastes so good at Thanksgiving, it sure is hard to keep young turkeys alive until November! Either our first year of raising turkeys was serendipitously easy or we are getting worse at livestock care, which is a rather depressing thought .Rose is our only survivor of a hatching from last year and, as a hand-raised turkey, has the annoying habit of squawking in your face and

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-43438941837622325302010-05-10T22:50:00.000-07:002010-07-19T23:40:22.098-07:00

We have two Lucy's on the farm at the moment, except one of them spells hers a little differently than anyone else I know. Loocie, my sister, came for a visit because she has never been here when lambs were being born. Lucy, from Portland, came back with her parents because March was a bad month for lambs. As in, there were none.What made the visit extra special for the junior Lucy was the

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-18445209423144148172010-04-20T00:40:00.000-07:002010-06-07T20:09:44.427-07:00

It is common knowledge that ewes tend to lamb when it rains. As spring is a rainy time of year in Oregon, this could just be coincidence. Not so coincidental, ewes will lamb in groups. Sort of like, that looks like a good idea, I think I'll go for it too.It is probably closer to a cycle thing. However, I must say it occurred to me, as our guest, Taffy, stood by my side, seven months pregnant,

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-53362709226571344772010-04-01T14:16:00.001-07:002010-04-20T00:37:45.166-07:00

Lucy and her mother first came to our farm stay a year ago in March. They hoped to see lambs and take a break from the city. We already had two lambs from February, the result of a very naughty ram lamb five months prior. During their visit, we started lambing in earnest. We also had our first problems with rejected lambs and had to begin bottle feeding two youngsters from different

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-33722888700935025032010-03-11T00:01:00.001-08:002010-04-19T23:32:32.770-07:00

March can be a fickle month for just about anything to do with farming. However, shearing our pregnant ewes in March is about as late as we can go whether the month is fickle or not. I usually have my friendly sheep shearer come by end of February so the girls are not yet too big, but somehow February got past me and, anyway, Vince was busy. Vince is about my age. He has his own flock of sheep

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-77127386574901449552010-02-24T21:54:00.001-08:002010-03-10T22:56:51.993-08:00

This winter I found a sales outlet for my kiwis. For years we had eaten them, given them away, fed them to the chickens, fed them to the guests. Never had I thought to actually sell them for money until a really cool website came on the scene in our area allowing farmers to post their produce and buyers to shop with a credit card, all from the same site. It's the Internet meets the CSA (

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-18357928945983067742010-02-06T15:56:00.000-08:002010-03-10T23:53:49.780-08:00

Farmville and Wii are for sissies. We have the real farm and it's killing me! I think teenagers should own farms based on their endless strength and endurance, although their addiction to texting and iPods puts them down the totem pole for concentration and forethought. I don't feel old or slow until I try catching sheep. This is where a good sheep dog would come in handy. Our old dog,

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-88622453235845245352010-01-25T23:34:00.000-08:002010-02-24T21:51:22.193-08:00

There is a big problem in the United States. The median age of farmers is well into their 50s. This means lots of wisdom, but less endurance. As serious as the problem is in our country, Leaping Lamb Farm has its own aging problems. I could speak here about the farmer and his wife, but, in point of fact, our companion animals are older than we in their life span and I foresee loss and sadness

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-16042763382979822322010-01-12T10:21:00.000-08:002010-02-01T23:51:18.318-08:00

It's the opposite of counting sheep for sleepy time. I now count sheep in the middle of the night and wonder how I am going to cover the cost of hay because my lambs never sold this fall. A bad economy means folks eat hamburger, not steak, and certainly not lamb. I do the math in a semi-conscious state, and in the dark, when problems are most dire, I don't have a good solution. Luckily, Annie

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-50858848477543368582009-12-22T20:46:00.001-08:002010-01-28T21:55:59.164-08:00

Two days before Christmas and we have water in the house and barn again! Our pioneer days are over for the moment. As proof it is never so cold here, when the temperatures plummeted into the single digits for a week, the pump house froze and no amount of warmth from the portable heater could thaw the lines to the outside. It's a funny thing having electricity and no water, but a preferable

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-17793031943852103532009-12-09T23:47:00.000-08:002009-12-28T13:32:35.575-08:00

It would have been better if I had never gotten out of bed. The animals might not have thought so. But, if I had stayed in bed, I wouldn't have spent the entire day trying to restore water to our house or worrying about the lamb that was trying to die in our frigid barn.They say western Oregon hasn't been this cold for so many days in a row since 1972. I say, "Why now?" Fifteen degrees is

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-54012964519704779042009-11-23T22:52:00.000-08:002009-12-28T21:28:54.955-08:00

I was making banana bread the other day because the black bananas kept falling off the shelf in the freezer and landing at my feet on the floor. I have a great banana bread recipe. It's written on note paper from college. Don't know who gave it to me. The paper is stained with butter and a little the worse for wear, but still readable. Better yet, no one has ever turned down a thick hunk of

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-67738709295791640382009-11-04T11:53:00.000-08:002010-02-10T19:53:50.946-08:00

Every time an animal dies as the result of a ridiculous accident, my vet says it wins the Darwin Award. She's a bit cynical, but she does have a point. Nonetheless, when one of our animals born on this farm has an accident, it makes me sad. We lost a ewe lamb yesterday for a stupid reason. She pushed her head through a small opening in the hay feeder, turned her head sideways so her jaw

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-70908267623626867752009-10-23T10:32:00.001-07:002009-12-28T21:26:59.227-08:00

You know summer is over when the crenelations of the hay castle in the loft start to lean and the tunnels are exposed with every day of feeding. I remember the hours of fun we used to have as kids in our friend's hay loft. It smelled sweet and warm like summer grass and was a child's wonderland for games of 'hide and seek' and 'king of the castle'.So, it was not at all strange that families

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-51975254507623435542009-10-08T11:17:00.001-07:002009-10-25T14:57:53.160-07:00

This was the summer of our "greening". We built a large, 3-bay composter to better utilize all the animal manure produced on our farm, and we installed solar panels on the barn to power our farm operations, because, yes, even in Oregon there is enough sun to do this!The composter was a bit of a challenge because this was actually a project scheduled for last summer. It seems it is wise to

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-86907520943806043452009-09-20T14:35:00.000-07:002009-10-14T00:45:33.477-07:00

Our summers fill farmer Greg's head with projects because this is the only time he is "off" from his non-farm job. I think he originally imagined the summers as a time where he could write his book or take a break from three hard semesters in a row. He didn't count on trees falling over in the winter, blackberries growing like the prickly rose vines in Sleeping Beauty, or the list of honey-do's

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-55722532526621117952009-09-07T21:23:00.000-07:002009-09-29T01:36:41.088-07:00

I knew I lost one little lamb about a month ago because she kept trying to die on me and finally disappeared into the brush so I would give up my feeble attempts to save her. I think I realized she would eventually do this. She had not become better with any of our ministering in the barn and, if a lamb can be depressed (hard to imagine when they are so darned cute), she was the poster child

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-54048870907351502022009-08-16T15:07:00.000-07:002009-09-14T00:51:24.431-07:00

My heels were already sore from wearing nice shoes into town to match my nice outfit for a meeting. Running down the graveled dirt road in them did nothing to improve the feel or my attitude towards the four black sheep I was chasing. I had left my car turned off in the middle of the road because herding sheep as I backed up was not working that well; there was no way to turn around; and I was

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-51973792771329765442009-08-11T12:24:00.000-07:002009-09-07T21:21:36.782-07:00

Our turkeys are getting a lot of coverage this summer. First it was their dinosaur-like qualities, increasing as they grow larger. Next it was the saving of Rose, the only turkey hatchling to make it past one day old. Now our turkeys have landed themselves in a reporter's blog...because they bit him on the butt when he was out here writing a story about our farm stay experience. I believe he

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-55969741508616283362009-07-31T22:48:00.000-07:002009-09-02T23:47:18.072-07:00

Who knew wasps are carnivorous in August? Even hungry enough to locate a mole carcass, left outside the front door by the cat, and from thence scooped up by farmer Greg and dropped into the rolling trash bin? A mole carcass that entered the bin on Thursday afternoon, with expected pick-up the next morning? Thursday had been a good day as Annie and I finished our evening chores of corralling and

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-35457912811592444842009-07-20T22:34:00.000-07:002009-08-04T21:33:03.867-07:00

This is the first year we have successfully grown strawberries and there is nothing better than eating your own red, ripe strawberries. Especially when they are grown in Oregon. Sweet, delicious, plentiful ... and they last for maybe two days in the fridge before you must finish them over ice cream or make jam.I think the photos do justice to our strawberries, as well as the creeping roses cut

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-44125654669570259412009-07-01T12:44:00.000-07:002009-07-28T16:10:52.157-07:00

Century-old apple trees are a thing to behold and taste, and our apple orchard is a testament to the old timers who settled this valley. The other day, we lost one of the biggest and prettiest Kings on the property. It smashed through the aged cedar rail fence that keeps the sheep off the lawn, its wide canopy laden with small, unripened fruit scattered in the grass. Certainly the spread of

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-86412661093912373912009-06-22T21:48:00.000-07:002009-07-07T23:10:51.807-07:00

The order has been disturbed in the chicken yard. First I introduced the bummer lambs and their new playmate ram lamb. Next I introduced 11 turkey poults. The chickens took most of this in stride as they have been dealing with three roosters ever since we house-raised two supposed hens that turned out not to be. But now things are getting a bit out of hand. Who would have thought to blame

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-36932048251408480002009-06-09T21:36:00.000-07:002009-07-07T23:36:11.347-07:00

There are signs on this old farm of life from a distant era, one that feels almost as far away as the Middle Ages. One vestigial piece is the outhouse, wired for light in the 1950s, when electricity finally came to the property but plumbing had not. Pieces of decaying knob and tube hang loose above the entry door. The second family to live here added a stained glass window. I suppose we are

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-88209731558512294242009-05-19T12:51:00.001-07:002009-06-13T14:45:31.061-07:00

I've always imagined the possibility of some latent strain of dinosaur living in our primeval woods surrounding our pastures. Maybe it wasn't really a cougar that hauled off all those lambs several summers ago. Could it have been a velociraptor? Too many Jurassic Park movies, I know, and too many repeats on TV. But, it does occur to me, as we currently host eleven large turkey poults, that

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-41837793617613410282009-05-05T22:34:00.000-07:002009-07-07T23:30:44.706-07:00

It seemed like a good idea to bring a young ram lamb onto our farm. I mean, who wants inbred sheep? And the thought of a cross-bred hair sheep had this shepherdess all in a dither - with the potential for spotted sheep, no less. Ever working on my naivite when it comes to all things ag, it never crossed my mind we might be introducing something onto our farm that we didn't want, like a virus.I

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-76320957637146622972009-04-20T22:01:00.000-07:002009-07-07T23:30:20.524-07:00

Our adult turkeys must be duds because there are no nests and no eggs and thus no babies. What to do?! Enter the most fabulous catalogue ever invented - the Murray McMurray Hatchery catalogue, filled with birds of all colors, sizes, breeds, and types. Like shopping in a candy store! Our order of fifteen Heritage turkey poults (a variety pack) just arrived and now our Bronzes are in for the

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-50966210700521224362009-04-08T23:48:00.000-07:002009-04-22T21:50:43.408-07:00

It's hard to take bad photos of children and lambs. When they are in the same shot, every picture becomes a holiday card for next December's mailing. Mostly these children are the daughters of our guests, little girls with an inate desire to hold our young lambs on their laps and feed them bottles of milk. So much better than a doll. Little brothers have been roped into the act as well, but

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-66910854933241390902009-03-30T21:14:00.000-07:002009-04-22T12:12:36.934-07:00

It's been raining cats and dogs and now it is raining lambs and we aren't even out of March yet. Maybe I should focus more on the old phrase, "March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb," or, in this case, lambs. Our ewes appear to be lambing earlier than usual because Red let himself 'free' two weeks into October. Apparently the girls were just waiting for their chance. As of today, we

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-56321951131267376122009-03-11T21:38:00.000-07:002009-04-23T23:43:43.825-07:00

I always thought mushrooms grew out of old logs by some act of nature too complex to understand (if your last biology class was as long ago as mine). We grew up on the toadstools of Alice in Wonderland and the Wind in the Willows, after all. Here in the Northwest's coastal rainforest there are all sorts of weird things growing on logs, from mushrooms and moss to fungi used by the old-timers like

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-16185584333681397992009-02-25T23:26:00.000-08:002009-04-21T23:15:34.697-07:00

This has been a month of interruptions. I suppose living on a farm is all about interruptions. How does the Little Boy Blue nursery rhyme go? Little Boy Blue come blow your hornThe sheep are in the meadow, the cows in the corn...Now let's substitute the rhyme with our own, Scottie and Annie don't make any plansThe horses are on the lawn, the ewes just had two lambs.... It seems little boy blue

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-87791874605712442072009-02-18T10:18:00.001-08:002009-03-03T17:07:03.443-08:00

When I unwrapped the painting at Christmas I knew immediately it was a portrait of Rosie. What other sheep could it be! Greg's comment was pointed. If I could now identify our sheep by name, and in their own portraits, I had been on the farm too long.Actually, the painting was a wonderful gift from my mother. She had seen it at an art show in Vermont, 3000 miles away, and immediately thought

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-21038911687624876292009-01-20T15:56:00.000-08:002009-03-02T14:18:50.133-08:00

Ice fences won't hold in the sheep, but they are a phenomena of nature and beautiful to behold. January was an unusual month for weather on the farm, with bright, sunny days and freezing temperatures. I think we mentioned choosing the Coast Range of Oregon because of its temperate rainforest and mild winters? Hmmm. But, this year we had ice fences every afternoon. So many I had to photograph a

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-1078639730710917182009-01-11T16:30:00.000-08:002009-03-02T12:36:56.391-08:00

Take a young horse that needs a job. Take pastures wet from snow melt and rain, and forage that is waterlogged at best. Take boredom at night and a bale of hay within view. Mix this all together and what do you get? Tater, freedom fighter rising, picking at the stall latches until he has mastered the fine art of opening carabiners, and anything else I try. The horse can be down-right irritating!

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-62493993000075175072009-01-04T12:22:00.000-08:002009-02-16T15:57:50.492-08:00

I think the lamb must have sensed my discouragement with his failing condition. That, or it really did have a conversation with Greg when he came out to the barn with his gun. The lamb had been in the barn for almost two months, trying to recover from a cut foot that had become infected. I had treated it with a dose of antibiotics. The lamb seemed to recover, but then started to lose weight. The

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-41606848354737292112008-12-17T11:32:00.001-08:002009-02-21T15:18:21.223-08:00

Dear Mr. Radio Flyer President,I wanted to write to let you know that the red Radio Flyer wagon, found discarded in a back alley in Phoenix over 20 years ago and subsequently refurbished by my father-in-law (I think all it really needed was a new handle and some fresh paint) has served above and beyond all expectations. When our kids (his grandkids) were little, this wagon was used for walks

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-9111969177993997772008-12-08T20:12:00.000-08:002009-02-21T15:19:57.982-08:00

"Where's Cisco?" Karen asked when she came through the door to find me sitting on the carpet surrounded by non-working Christmas lights. I looked up, my concentration on a tiny fuse broken. Yeah, where was Cisco?Karen, Allen and I had returned from our morning walk with three dogs instead of four. Not to worry. We had lost Cisco at the last turn down the trail and so close to the farm you

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-18021818113470795292008-11-25T22:57:00.001-08:002009-02-25T23:13:01.767-08:00

I have recently become a wine-maker. To say I proactively investigated all the nuances of wine-making would be seriously misleading. I am a wine maker because the plums started fermenting on their own in the large buckets sitting in the carport, and I didn't feel like spending hours picking the stems off the table grapes to make raisins. One could interpret this as laziness, alternatively as

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-65892106676895321572008-11-11T18:35:00.001-08:002009-02-21T15:21:57.623-08:00

Our personal interpretation of Keystone Cops mixed it up at Leaping Lamb Farm the other day. Arms waving wildly, livestock running away, more arms waving wildly, whistles, calls, livestock running the opposite direction, dogs barking, finally a pause while we all gathered ourselves for another go round. The horses and the donkey had broken into the apple orchard and were eating all the apples I

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-4034854151268402532008-10-22T21:00:00.000-07:002009-02-21T15:25:14.415-08:00

Red, the ram, got "out" yesterday, although from his point of view he was finally "in". I had just let the girls onto the hay field as a gesture of good will - also, because all the yummy grass was down to the nubs in the barn field. The hay field runs alongside Red's ten month, off-season quarters. Before I left for town, I noticed Red and Piglet, his son and BFF in exile, leaning on the

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-57931908823833703932008-10-08T20:51:00.000-07:002009-02-21T15:30:13.320-08:00

I don't name my lambs that go to market on purpose. I don't want to have an emotional connection that might make me falter when we select which lambs will go to slaughter and which might end up as someones' pets. After all, this is our business...and I do love the taste of lamb.The other day, I culled the first 15 of our 30+ lambs for their end-of-life trailer ride. This is the second year I

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-64425590634850136792008-09-29T23:24:00.000-07:002009-02-21T15:29:15.349-08:00

Our barn looks like a corn field, upside down. The stalks are hung on every available nail hammered into the cross beams for the hayloft. Not sure why there are so many nails, but I suspect I am not the first one to dry crops here. The stalk bunches block the light downstairs and any manageable path to the stalls. It's kind of a pain. In the end, it looks more like we are planning a Halloween

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-91533652440490833052008-09-15T23:39:00.000-07:002008-10-03T17:41:14.762-07:00

I may have complained about Fred eating my zucchini but he is only one peacock and this farm has a lot of fruits and vegetables growing on it, most years anyway. My friend, Nancy and her husband have a phrase for this, "the burden of abundance". I guess you have to know where we are coming from, alliteration be damned! Even this girl can't kill all the plants.So, September has become our Google

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-41689208938628654822008-08-29T23:39:00.001-07:002008-10-03T17:40:08.135-07:00

I imagined, when I planted the zucchini at the side of the cabin, along with the tomatoes, peas and beans, that I was planting veggies for my farm stay guests. I never imagined I was planting a feast for Fred.I think I have mentioned before how I am challenged to grow just about anything. If it was only that I forgot to water, then it would be my fault, but between the wildlife, the slugs, and

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-57969619755313283602008-08-20T21:55:00.000-07:002008-10-03T23:39:23.046-07:00

We just returned from a vacation in Italy with all of my family. All my family live in urban and suburban settings so a villa in the middle of rural Tuscany was magical. For us, it was magical because it was Italian and had beautiful views, but really there were so many parts that just seemed familiar: the tractors driving up and down the dirt paths to the surrounding farms, the logging

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-7610561776831542492008-07-23T23:28:00.000-07:002008-09-09T22:49:48.433-07:00

They say, in this valley, that you need to get your hay out of the field by the 4th of July. Or what? I always thought it had to do with temperature and condition of the grass. Now I understand it has to do with fireworks.Honestly, I dread the day we have to pull the hay bales from the field. As the driver and unloader, I have the easiest job of all, but I still wish we could figure out how

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-51450353763312418012008-07-09T23:19:00.000-07:002008-08-20T21:37:07.695-07:00

Harold and the Purple Crayon was one of my favorite childrens' books. I enjoyed it as a child and I enjoyed reading it to my own children. It is the story of a kid named Harold who literally draws his world around him with a purple crayon. He is able to change his reality with a stroke of color.Our Harold is a lamb that was attacked by two dogs and left for dead. Unfortunately, he didn't have

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-46478478302464200422008-06-27T23:50:00.000-07:002008-08-20T21:27:46.375-07:00

What do they say about looking at something through the eyes of a child? I am having a similar experience these days on our farm with the guests we host at our cabin above the hay field.When we first found this farm, it seemed it should be shared with other people like ourselves, caught up in cities, surrounded by efficient systems to make our lives easier, but also far removed from the basics

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-71143015969648043352008-06-05T23:08:00.000-07:002008-07-30T22:58:23.856-07:00

The first time I saw Paco, the burro, he was eating the flower tops off dandelions at Craig's place. He had been acquired as a model for Craig's newest idea in basket making, something along the lines of a Mexican donkey with carrying basket. Craig assured us there was an exclusive market out there: owners of miniature donkeys who would want to outfit their animals in just such a fashion. I

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-51346916360094328872008-05-19T23:55:00.000-07:002008-06-18T21:15:31.680-07:00

I brushed the last of the winter hair from the horses today. All three stood quietly, as if the scratching of the curry comb was exactly what they had been waiting for all spring. By the end of the session, it looked as if I had killed a large animal and dumped it in the soft footing of the loafing shed.I brushed our long-haired dog too (twice) and had enough hair to make another dog just like

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-36791683843404892742008-05-08T23:23:00.000-07:002008-06-17T21:49:09.237-07:00

If you have never seen a 'gang of lambs', then I assume you have never seen a 'woolly mob'. We are currently in the midst of one and the same, especially around recess (that would be when the lambs are let out of the pen in the morning) and bedtime (that would be right after the lambs and their moms have eaten dinner - the ewes at the manger, the lambs sneaking a weaning drink before mom catches

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-22143007520993576372008-04-19T15:02:00.001-07:002008-08-26T23:21:02.047-07:00

It's the time of year again when I dream about sheep and I smell like sheep. Sometimes the dreams are good and sometimes the dreams are interrupted by the bleating of the lamb downstairs in the box. It's 2 a.m. and someone wants a bottle. As I heat the milk in the microwave, barefoot and chilled in the night kitchen, I am transported back 25 years ago to my own babies. Thing is: now I'm holding

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-45066144382415941822008-04-03T23:00:00.000-07:002008-05-13T12:46:41.535-07:00

Last Sunday morning, standing on the edge of the hayfield, our boots damp from the wet spring grass, my mother spoke up. "I bet you didn't imagine five years ago you would be doing something like this." I looked up from the dead deer, its legs stiff with rigor mortis. I was carefully trying to maneuver it into the bucket of the tractor without rupturing its exposed guts. She had a point.The deer

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-35278082976612390072008-03-24T22:36:00.000-07:002008-04-19T16:52:05.982-07:00

The end of wood is rather like the end of days, except colder. This winter has been long and cold and we are down to the nubs in our wood pile. Our neighbor, Dave, calls the old Alder wood we are burning now "punky" because it is rotted and pretty darn useless in terms of generating much heat. I hope the warm weather hurries up because the animals are low on hay too.If we were in Arizona, it

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-81239679712320804542008-03-08T11:29:00.001-08:002008-04-19T16:54:02.956-07:00

I am a good listener when it involves our barn and the animals it houses (maybe not so good when it comes to my spouse). Hollow, stomping sounds, either first thing in the morning or at feeding time in the evening can't mean anything but mischief. Uninvited. Unapproved. Probably mayhem, if I want to be honest.Did I remember to double lock the stall doors the last time I was in the barn? Does this

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-50232894838209169642008-02-20T00:40:00.001-08:002008-03-29T14:08:20.693-07:00

Peeps is in big trouble. Actually, he is in our house at the moment, crammed into a cage that is almost too small, placed on the bench in front of the wood stove, drying off, recovering from his wounds, and freaking out the cat. If you don't remember, Peeps is our hand-raised rooster that, until this spring, was one of two roosters in the chicken yard, a marginal situation at best.But, now we

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-23247701845459625822008-02-11T15:34:00.000-08:002008-03-08T13:17:28.493-08:00

The reluctant vet would be me. I don't remember having a discussion before we moved to the farm about who would give shots, clean dirty wounds, or bandage large, hairy animals. I should have had an inkling our very first week here when the dog tore off a sheep's ear. The short story is that our dogs, unfamiliar with livestock other than cats, couldn't believe their good fortune at landing on a

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-57617424215935339312008-01-23T20:05:00.000-08:002008-02-20T00:34:51.045-08:00

After a winter of rain and darkness that seemed to go on forever, the snow was a quiet, bright change of pace. I had never thought about the quietness of snow nor the brightness of the landscape after it has fallen, but a western Oregon winter can make you appreciate all sorts of things you never thought about before. The landscape was gorgeous until tree branches began to snap off and the roof

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-18332745764994554372008-01-06T22:39:00.001-08:002008-02-19T17:01:04.095-08:00

It was a dark and stormy night and I didn't even bother counting my flock. What stupid sheep would stay out in weather like this? So, I never hear Lamb Chop's small voice cry out. I doubt I could have heard her baa over the raging creek, the rain banging on the metal roof of the barn, or the thunder and lightening adding to the mayhem. Except for the tempest outside, I slept soundly. It might

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-31740160330081392402007-12-28T23:28:00.000-08:002008-01-24T13:41:53.573-08:00

Who really runs a farm? In fact, where did the phrase ever originate, "to run a farm"? More true is the phrase, "to run a-muck". We could add... on a farm. Or, "to run down", or "to run hog-wild", or "to run away". That last one would be "from the farm".In the cold wet of winter in western Oregon's Coast Range, when the mud is knee deep and icy and all the leaves blown off the trees, there

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-5356672543050778212007-12-18T19:42:00.001-08:002008-01-17T14:08:30.631-08:00

With two Heritage Bronze turkey toms and a hen reaching maturity this fall, it didn't take much thought deciding what we would eat for Christmas dinner. Instead of just strutting around and showing off, the toms had started fighting for dominance, and spring was still months away. The two would grab at each other's necks and pull hard on the skin and feathers at the base, screaming as they

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-11671893558567201662007-11-28T22:21:00.001-08:002008-01-09T21:35:01.145-08:00

There was a triple convergence this year, enabling us to produce our first cider ever (over 30 gallons!): we had lots of apples; we had people who picked apples for us; and our daughter's boyfriend installed a new motor on our old cider press, even knowing enough to reverse the direction of the spin so the chopper would work properly. I think the enthusiasm of our neighbors, Karen and Allen, also

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-12813388144799577142007-11-12T10:11:00.000-08:002007-12-01T16:27:52.851-08:00

It doesn't seem that unusual these days to sit around a table and talk about the animals in our lives. Allen will mention that he hates sheep, which will lead Greg to concur that sheep are stupid. I add, as an odd non-sequitor, that the cougar is probably lurking in our woods because we have gone 6-8 weeks without a kill. Karen will murmur something about the poor lambs. On it goes, to raccoons

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-3749550417140289242007-11-04T11:13:00.000-08:002009-02-21T15:44:16.984-08:00

The rap music we now play at the barn, come nightfall, may not have worked as well as I would have liked to scare away our resident cougar, but the sheep are acting more hip! After losing lambs this summer, we fixed the fences, we added a spot light, we even turned on the radio - all to dissuade predators from approaching our livestock in the dark. The alternative was to sleep in the barn with

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-59928222948624361022007-10-08T22:02:00.000-07:002007-11-29T19:57:23.509-08:00

Our farm now has a sign dug in under the cedar tree at the side of the driveway. It's a subtle sign to let folks know they have arrived at the right place. Not showy or new looking, the old barn boards blend in with the greys and browns of the tree trunks and Rhodies. From far away, our farm name doesn't quite stand out and the sheep decorating the bottom corners look peculiarly like clouds,

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-14828751457061360322007-10-01T20:44:00.000-07:002007-11-19T10:38:11.369-08:00

The thing about an old farm is that it tends to have old fences - beautiful in style but ineffective for keeping animals either in or out. If you have sheep, which are like sharks when they want to get somewhere, old fences are just a distraction until they (the sheep) have broken through the bottom or the side or any part that succumbs to 150 pounds of wool and bones pressing and pressing and

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-13876046950256219842007-09-18T21:36:00.000-07:002007-10-09T13:49:13.281-07:00

It's obviously not July when I am writing this, but August got away from me this year and I couldn't very well write about things that happened later if I didn't mention our unexpected arrivals (x 4), ... proving to me there are reasons why rams are only left with the ewes for two months and not four!Imagine my surprise to come out for feeding in the last weeks of July and notice one of the ewes

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-57375174470290883822007-07-30T00:11:00.001-07:002007-10-08T22:01:17.330-07:00

Chickens roost when dusk falls. This means in the winter they are tucked in bed by 4 pm.; however, in summer I find myself trying to herd at least three or four of the wayward birds, with big arms spread wide, because I swear chickens can see behind them, toward the locking chicken wire gates. It makes herding sheep look easy! From time to time, I get so irritated it makes sense to walk away

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-55219342644594648282007-07-16T23:25:00.000-07:002008-01-09T21:21:17.178-08:00

Does it ever really get that dark in summer because it sure seems as if the sun keeps coming up at around 4:00 a.m.? I resist rolling out of bed until at least 6:30, by which time the cat has walked across my back, the dog has stuck his smelly face in mine and given me a lick just for good measure, the horses are starting to fidget and squeel in their paddock, lambs are crying out for their lost

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-64338548115403296662007-06-24T20:53:00.000-07:002007-10-09T13:37:38.380-07:00

This year, on a cloudy day in the middle of June, we loaded 21 tons of hay into the second storey hayloft of our barn. There were eight of us to start and six at the finish, although Greg and I combined were worth one teenager by the end of the day, so make that five. Haying is a young man's sport and I have started to wonder what we will do when our boys graduate high school. They aren't

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-63516549427292381382007-06-11T21:37:00.000-07:002007-10-09T21:33:12.117-07:00

Frankie and Johnny started off life under Boston's warm, feathery belly in the old chicken coop; however, they ended up in a cage in our kitchen, under a warm desk lamp. I'm not quite sure why Boston is not a better mother. Maybe this has something to do with her own young life beginning in the same cage, in the same kitchen, under the same lamp, almost three years ago. Frankie and Johnny, aka

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-49816433545656054942007-05-24T23:04:00.000-07:002007-07-17T12:24:00.015-07:00

Two weeks ago I learned that cougar tracks don't show claws. Think of your cat's muddy paw prints on the windshield. No claw marks. Seems cats walk on the soft pads as they stalk their prey. Everything I learned about cougars reminded me of Bubba's killing techniques for the local small fauna around our house, except cougars go after larger prey, like lambs. Four lambs to be exact. If you

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-35024853796615154212007-05-03T22:56:00.000-07:002007-07-21T00:49:56.308-07:00

"A War Horse." That's what the vet called him after the last visit. Chaco, the War Horse. However, rather than the stately Nez Pierce Appaloosa, bred for fierceness in battle, then all but annihilated by the US Cavalary in the 19th Century, Chaco is a homely distant cousin from Arizona. But, boy, can that horse jump! Either over fences in an arena with me clinging to his back or straight up in

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-78422438057957249802007-04-17T16:57:00.000-07:002007-05-03T22:53:53.262-07:00

I was expecting lambs any day. But the days dragged on past the earliest possible due date as I checked and rechecked my gestation chart. March turned into April and on and on the days passed with no lambs. And then it rained and the sheep were scattered to the farthest corners of the pastures, and, of course, we started to have lambs. The first ewe to lamb had triplets! What a start. The

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-51882563499770527602007-04-09T19:48:00.000-07:002007-05-01T21:11:47.537-07:00

The Honey Grove Valley has a resident blue heron and, in the spring, a host, a plethora, what sound like a gazillion young frogs croaking through the night. Maybe this is why we have a blue heron at all. Meal time has never been so easy, with a snack in every stream bed and standing pool of water. When we first moved to this valley in the middle of the Coast Range rainforest, the croaking of

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-89068579997513238902007-03-30T11:34:00.000-07:002007-04-03T20:56:02.534-07:00

A month and a year ago, the small community of Alsea, Oregon lost a friend. Craig touched many lives in many places, with his fiddle at the ready, his willow branches soaking for the next basket design, his "Bright Moments to you" goodbye. He touched ours personally in a way that soothed the worries of dealing with an old farm where things were always seeming to fall apart, or down, or away.

Animal escapadeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16605076290473027494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32792632.post-37304714178244373212007-02-23T18:31:00.001-08:002007-04-03T21:00:36.852-07:00

The question was this. "Do chickens see in color?" We hadn't been on the farm that long and it was an honest question. You would think Gisela and Dave and Janet and Nancy, all owners of chickens, might have known the answer, but they shook their collective heads. It had never come up, this question. Why did it matter if chickens could see the color of the worms they ate or the flowers they

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