I knew better...



Bo stopped as I stopped to take the picture, and looked at me as if to say, "You ARE coming, aren't you?"

But I didn't get it ordered sooner.  The temperatures have been all over the place - balmy one day and frigid and icy the next.  I should have known it was the kind of season that would cause problems.  In fact, I'm beginning to wonder if there is any season that doesn't have some inherent problems?  Chuck mentioned (or at least he tells me he mentioned - I have my mind so full of Siddhartha and Night and The Odyssey as of late there isn't much room for anything else) we had run out of Bovi Sera.  Bovi Sera is one of those things I like to have on hand, although we don't use it a lot this time of year.  I tend to use it more when we ship goats, as it provides direct antibodies for a few of the things that can get goats down when they are under stress - the stress of being hauled down the highway in a shipping crate for twelve hours, for example.  It has antibodies to E.Coli, Salmonella, and two types of Pasteurella organisms that can cause pneumonia.  In theory, these antibodies can go right to work and combat the pathogens quickly, and hopefully buy the animal time as it tries to mount its own immune response.



Enjoying the warmth of the sun, blocked by Momma from the chilly winds.

Although I am still under the weather myself (thankfully, although the whole rest of the family has been sick, I waited until Spring Break to get mine - no missed work!) I loaded Annalee and Chip in the car and dropped Virginia off at day care.  Loaded with packs of snack crackers, a box of Capri-Sun, and a bag of half price Scooby Doo Easter candy, we set out for the farm.  The weather really has been crazy lately.  I think it was Monday it was seventy degrees again, and the goats, who are still sporting long winter coats, were all flaked out in the sun.  Tuesday brought an abrupt decrease in temperature, and a cold wind whipped across the flats of the farm.  Yesterday started with a sharp, frosty morning, but gently mellowed into the upper fifties.  Since I felt poorly, after I fed the goats I told the kids to play as I took it easy in the warm car for a little while.  I sat and rested, and watched the goats.  Having the time to watch them gave me an opportunity to notice a couple of the kids breathing heavier than they should.  One sounded a little raspy, too.  Crap.  Sounds like pneumonia brewing. 

Normally, my first line of defense for pneumonia is a dose of Bovi Sera.  I use it even before I pull out an antibiotic.  Unfortunately, I am unprepared this time, and Bovi Sera is not something we can get at the local feed store.  I placed an order online, and it should arrive later today.  The kids were still upright as of a quick trip up to check this morning, so when the package gets here, I will try to run up and catch these two kids and give them a quick dose of it.  This is one of those days I hope soccer practice is cancelled.  It sleeted on us as we returned home from the farm earlier today, and I just don't think I am up to sitting out on the soccer field for an hour trying to corral Virginia.  Annalee has plenty to wear to keep her warm, but I'm just not feeling that tough today.  My pastures are even feeling the effects off this prolonged winter.  I looked at pictures from last year, and the pastures were much taller and greener in April last year than they are today.  Maybe next week's projected warm temperatures will kick them into high growth gear.  I sure hope so.

Still bald spots, but at least most are becoming covered with organic matter.

This time last year, the field was almost a foot high.

Since we had no Bovi Sera, I texted Chuck to pick up a fresh bottle of LA-200 at the store to bring to the farm.  We had some, but it was expired.  When he and Virginia got to the farm with it, he caught the two kids and we gave them each a dose of it, hoping whatever organism they have is susceptible.  We don't use antibiotics on the farm very often, but we do bring in animals from other places, and the germs they bring - well, there's just no telling.  It's like the dewormer thing.  We've had a few does go bottle-jawed lately, and I imagine if we had preventively dewormed them right after they kidded, we wouldn't have had an issue.  Two of the does are first timers, one raising a single and the other raising a nice set of twin does.  The third is a mature doe, and her two kids are mega-chunks (her buck is as big as one of the junk bucks leftover from last year and looking for a soup pot) and have really pulled the weight off of her.  I can forgive having to deworm those does.  Now, we might gamble and lose one (I hope not), but I'd rather be sparing with the dewormer so that when I need to use it, it works, and we know who is tougher than whom.  We don't know much about the Shaw kids yet, but we're finding Ace's kids to be even more parasite tolerant than Boomer's.  This knowledge helps me decide which does go with which bucks.  If a doe has good growth and parasite tolerance traits but a poor udder, isn't a fabulous mom, or is a hard keeper, I'll likely breed her to Boomer for first generation does.  If a doe is a great mom with a good udder and just isn't the most parasite tolerant doe, I'll breed her to Ace to bring his strengths to the mix.  There are the other odd traits they throw - Ace's kids look like small yaks in the winter due to three inch long (and often wavy) hair - but I hope in the long run, breeding this way helps me have the best does I can in the herd. 


Goats in the middle field - sooner than we wanted, but the top field is bare.

I am still not sure yet how I feel about the "size" issue.  I know people like big goats, and big kids do sell, but I still like a small doe who gets her kids to close to her size in six months.  Unless she is a hard keeper, it just makes more sense to me.  I have a couple of squatty little does who look like they are bred year round, and raise fast growing kids that look just like them.  I am an avid Goat Rancher fan (it is a wonderful aperitif to enjoy before diving into some Shakespeare), and have been reading with great interest Craig Adams' articles on Kiko bloodlines and the traits for which they are known.  He has so much experience with the breed, and I eagerly looked forward to seeing if my observations from our few individuals mirrored what his many years have proven to be true in general.  One thing he said has gotten me thinking - he suggests we need to aim towards a heavier framed goat.  I'm not sure how I feel about that.  I have both types in my herd.  The Shaw kids are lighter framed - the doelings have a more deerlike, feminine look to them, while the Ace doelings look like little boys, to be honest.  Boomer's kids are somewhere in the middle, but don't have much mature height.  I can understand that with heavier muscle, a heavier frame may be necessary.  I wonder if there is any sort of genetic link between the two traits?  Hmm.  Food for thought, but unfortunately, thoughts that will likely need to wait until after school is out for summer.  Poetry, To Kill A Mockingbird, and more World Lit await!

Addendum: I took a short nap after my post and awoke to the delightful tap tap of sleet pouring down (example of sarcarm, here, folks).  The roof is white, and it is accumulating on parts of the yard.  Yay (more sarcasm).  It increases my concern for those kids that are already ill.  I hope they made it somewhere dry and warm.  I also hope that truck with the Bovi Sera makes it here before long.  I also doubt I will put the human kids out on the road to go to the farm if I don't absolutely have to do it.  It is a long drive, and there is an awful lot of frozen junk coming out of the sky.  Sigh.

Ace twin doelings (out of a half sister to Ace) in the foregound - a Shaw doeling walks behind them

 

A visit to the farm.

It's been a while since I made it to the farm.  The kids aren't "allowed" to go see Grandma right now because they've had a bug, so we went to the farm with Chuck.  We thought we might get goats caught up and weighed, but miscalculating just how cold it was put the quabbash on that.  It was gorgeous in NC yesterday - nearly 70 degrees, which worked out okay as the kids had soccer games.  It made the chill in the air more disappointing today, however.  I underdressed myself and the kids.  The weatherman said it would be in the fifties, but the thermometer on the car was reading 43 degrees this afternoon.  As Chuck rode around moving round bales with the tractor, he was breathing steam.  I did not plan for that bite in the air.

 

Piper's doelings playing "who is the fastest." (GNX Piper x Shaw)

I did not get as much done as I planned at the farm, but I did manage a few things.  I managed to find the kids I could not locate when I first arrived - they had squeezed into the middle field.  We're fertilizing and liming the middle and bottom fields and have the goats off of them at the moment.  These few kids apparently didn't get the memo.  After we got these little rogues back where they were supposed to be, I went to nail a board to the post to try to keep this from happening again.  By this time I was chilly anyway, and I discovered that the hammer(s) are all missing.  I don't know how that happens.  I bet I've bought forty hammers over the years.  Someday an archaeologist is going to have a dig at the farm and they will no doubt wonder about the amazing collection of tools buried all over the farm.  Chuck produced a hatchet with a blunt back side, and off I went.  I managed to squash my thumb and turn it blue on the first nail, but hopefully the gate is now modified so it is goat kid resistant.

I did at least get some pictures today of the kids.  For the most part, they are growing well.  The Ace kids are in general a month older than the Shaw kids, with the the Boomer kids just behind.   The big exception would be the straggler does.  All three straggler does had single doelings, and we lost one, unfortunately, to some type of predator that prefers hindquarters only (or at least that was the point it was interrupted in its meal).  I get so mad about things like that, but it happens.  I just hate when anything brand new doesn't even get a chance.  It offends me on some kind of cosmic level.

On the left with the star, GNX Ginger.  Her Shaw kids are in the foreground.

Louisianna's doeling (by GNX Ace)

 We've got a good group of bucklings coming along, I think.  The doelings are okay, too, but this year I hope to keep a few more than I normally do, and I've already had some interest in a few of them. 

Two monster PB bucklings by Ace, out of BWP 117 (UPS)

The dark buckling is Louisianna's.  On the right is one of the red Shaw bucklings (hard to say which).

The black doeling belongs is one of Angus' (by Ace).  Her larger twin is the milkshake colored kid hidden behind the brown doeling in the foreground (one of Piper's by Shaw).

The whole herd.  We have four distinct kidding groups, and four sizes of kids.

We had hoped the kids would get here before the worst weather...

Last weekend we had one of those glorious days in January that make us all impatient for spring. The thermometer on the car's control panel read a full 70 degrees. The kids ran around the farm without jackets and complained of being hot, and the goat kids basked hedonistically in the sunshine. Of the does who have not yet kidded, only a few appear imminent, and they were not as enamored with the heat. They are not only heavy bred but also heavy coated, and that is a combination for misery on a warm winter's day.

 

The Shaw kids have started hitting the ground, so now, we have most of the Ace and Shaw does kidded save a few who were still nursing kids when the bucks were introduced. The youngest of the does we bred to Boomer, and have just started kidding this week. It would be lovely if the young first time does especially could have kidded when it was 70 degrees, but the rain rolled in and brought with it much more seasonably cool weather. As much as I love the warm weather, I know if it would have continued, all the trees would have budded out and the inevitable freeze would have taken them all out. It is better to wait for the warmth to be more certain.

 

Both groups of kids seem robust and vibrant. I can't remember the male/female ratio thus far, but it seems pretty even. We had one more instance where the dog seems to have helped with the kids a bit much, but he's much better this year than last during the births, and a devoted babysitter once the kids are a day old or more.  We had our first "who's your momma" incident this year.  Chuck found two does had kidded and then found two kids in one spot both wet, and the other set in one spot both dry. He put them with the does according to location and dampness status, and now, looking at them, we're not so sure the pairs are actually the correct pairs.

We'll be DNAing those four kids to determine who momma really is. Right now we can't tell much about the kids more than what color they are and that so far, they are pretty "survivable" little creatures. The next few months ought to tell us much more.

 

The focus now is to keep kids warm and dry.  We've had many inches of rain over the past few days and there is standing water everywhere.  Now, there is snow moving in on top of all the water and the flakes have started to fall at the house.  It will be a fun-filled few days, I'm sure, but all but the newest kids are at least a week old.  Now we just have to worry about those couple of first time kidding does that look imminent.  They are funny on a good day, but so far the first kidders this year have done a good job.  I hope the rest do as well.

 

 

 

 

Happy New Year!

Every time the New Year rolls around, I find that song by The Counting Crows rattling around in my mind.  There's a line that suggets it has been a "long December, and there's reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last."  There have been years where my situation has been such that I have desperately hoped that indeed, the upcoming year would be an improvement over the one departing, but this year we've almost been too busy to even think about it.

I should have been furiously grading papers and writing lesson plans in preparation for getting back to work tomorrow, but I haven't done as much as I had planned.  My kids were so worried that Christmas wouldn't happen this year I stopped and made sure we got our tree up, and we got outdoor lights up (Chip wanted these so badly), and I am so glad we did.  In previous years, my family has gathered at mom's, and we've spent the day with her at her old house as she cooked an old fashioned Christmas dinner.  The kids knew that this year was going to be different, and it had shaken them more than I expected.  This year, we took covered dishes to her new apartment, and we had a smaller and less traditional gathering.  It worked out, though, although we were all tired from a late night at the Christmas Eve lovefeast at the Moravian Church the night before.  I had meant to get them to the 6 o'clock service, but the day got away from me so we hit the 8 o'clock.  Annalee and Chip enjoyed this tradition, and really loved being able to hold the lighted candles high for the last stanza of the last song of the night.  Chip even managed not to set his own hair on fire this year! 

We made it home, and Santa Claus came, although, as Annalee admits, the kids weren't always on their best behavior this year.  As I was driving home from the lovefeast, I was thinking what traditions I'd like our family to create for the years going forward.  I had visions of eventually having a nice warm little barn up at the farm where we could gather for a bit on Christmas Eve, and reflect on the wonderful peacefulness that can only be found in a night-time stable.  Anyone who has ever spent a cold, quiet evening in a snug horse barn knows what I'm talking about.  The background sounds of animals comfortably munching hay, shuffling gently in their stalls; the green aroma of hay combining with the fresh, woody, scent of pine shavings, and the warm animals... well, I can think of no more lovely setting to think about a newborn baby in a manger.

Our own Christmas found the first group of does kidding beginning with three does beginning on the 23rd, and then a doe kidding almost each day for the next few days.  The first kiddings were all reasonably uneventful, but the last one still has us scratching our heads.  Since Chuck has been working and I was off this week, I have been on farm duty.  I have hauled the kids up there with me (much to their dismay, although they usually have fun once they are there) and I had been watching one doe closely, expecting her to kid while I was there for a couple of days.  I left one afternoon to get the kids home, and Chuck had planned to come back up after dinner.  As often happens, fatigue trumps intention and it was about 3am before he made it back up to the farm.  It was well below freezing, and he found that 260 had kidded and was wandering around kidless and hollering.  She had some suspicious marks on one ear, but we don't know the sequence of events and the dogs have so far been improved over last year.  Chuck unfortunately found one buckling dead in the field (not easy to find a black buckling in the dark), and searched for another since 260 had been wider than a single would suggest, but found no other.  We were disgusted, but resigned to having lost a season with this doe. 

Aggie and the first kids of the season.  We almost lost this doe last year.

The following morning, I rushed the human kids to get ready because I was still troubled by that unaccounted for second kid.  I mean, she could have singled, in theory, or the kid could have been stillborn and the dogs ate it.  There were just so many possibilities.  When I arrived at the farm in the daylight, it was still cold and windy, but bright, so I took the opportunity to walk the pasture looking for any sign of dead kid.  I looked in every shed, under the hay feeder, down against the bottom fence where 260 had kidded the previous year, and found exactly nothing.  Oh well.  I had already cussed 260 out for wasting the year and promised her a quick trip to the terminal barn, but I did offer her my sympathies, and watching her look off across the pasture, still hollering vainly for her phantom kids, yanked pretty fiercely at my heartstrings.  I did what I needed to do and headed back to town with the intention of both Chuck and I driving back up after he got off work. 

I visited my mom, and then headed back up before Chuck got home from picking up some hay (which proved to be moldy, much to our dismay).  I got to the farm while the sun was still up, and looking down over the field, I saw a kid standing alone near the bottom fence.  It looked like Aggie's doe, and I wondered how she managed to get herself caught in the fence, and why Aggie wasn't down there with her (Aggie likes her kids pretty close).  As I got closer to the small tan and black form, I realized that the kid was not stuck in the fence but just standing alone, and not in great shape.  It stood hunched, and looked like it had a little bloody stuff on it.  Thoughts of murdering the dogs for attacking a kid started to form in my mind, but when I picked the kid up, I realized the red thing was part of its umbilical cord flipped up over its back and dried up glued in its hair.  It was also a little buckling, and seemed small, but maybe it was just dehydrated from the ordeal.  I ran around to be sure all the does had their kids, and they did.  Hmmm.  So this little guy was an extra.  Could this be 260's second kid? 

I made sure none of the other does had kidded, so by process of elimination, surmised that yes, this had to be her kid.   I tried to get her to come to him, but she walked right by him, all the while still hollering for a kid.  I called Chuck to step on it and bring down a bucket of feed so I could catch her.  I sent Chip to the barn in the interim to get a little feed, and when he took too long coming back, I loaded the kid up in the car with me and drove up to the barn to locate Chip.  I found that he had mistakenly thought he was supposed to bring down an entire 33lb goat block.  I doubt he weighs much more than that himself, but he had dragged it a good thirty feet away from the barn. 

We got a more appropriate measure of feed and drove back down and Chuck pulled up in the truck shortly after.  The plugs were still in 260's teats, so the kid could not have nursed from her.  Chuck worked the plugs loose as I held her head, and we tried to get the kid to nurse.  He bumped at her bag, but that was about it.  We milked some colostrum into a syringe, and Chuck had the kid suck on his pinky and slowly squirted the colostrum in the side of its mouth as it sucked.  He has found this technique works pretty well if a kid has any suckle reflex at all.  His pinky is approximately goat teat shaped, and it gets the dribbled in milk from the syringe going down the right pipe.  I don't know if colostrum does much good immunity wise after the kid is 12 hours old or so, but it couldn't hurt.  The gut can't close all at once, so if he gets any immunity from it maybe it will give him a better chance to survive. 

A cold day, but the does are out with their kids.  Old Marshmallow (10 yrs in 2013) proudly walks her twin bucklings in the distance.

I just can't figure how the kid survived the extreme cold for that long.  I also can't figure out where the heck he was all that time.  It is easy enough to miss a kid in the dark, but he was visible enough when I did find him that I spotted him all the way across the field.  I had actually been looking in the morning, and had not seen him anywhere.  The only thing Chuck could figure is that maybe he survived the night behind Marshmallow in her shed.  He had noticed Marshmallow and her kids in her small shed, and the dead kid had been down below the front of her shed.  Had the little guy somehow gotten in behind Marshmallow, or had 260 started kidding in the shed and Marshmallow put herself to bed somewhere in the middle of the process?  This still doesn't explain where he was in the morning when I searched, for I had looked in each shed.  I guess we'll never know. 

We sequestered 260 in a shed with the kid, and while she looked at him as if he were just some random kid and not her own, she has decided to treat him charitably.  He's still weak, but he is alive and he is nursing some and passing poop.  He may not live, but each day he makes it gives him a better chance.  Bringing one back from the dead is a considerably more challenging task.

All of this brings me back to our New Year's resolutions.  What are they for the year?  Well, I learned the hard way that during the teaching year, I can't get anything done farm-wise, so we will have to do our farm business during the summer months only until the situation changes.  I've also realized just how much I enjoy the work on the farm, so I am going to try to make sure I get up there more often than every few months.  A cold, wet, muddy, miserable day raking up old hay or feeding the goats is better than a climate controlled day almost anywhere else.  We resolve to get more fencing done (does this sound familiar?).  We resolve to work on the farm road some more as we sell some goats, and got our first load of gravel delivered yesterday towards that end.  As expensive as it is, it was absolutely necessary, although it didn't fill in many ruts.  It at least made one stretch safe for the car, that was beginning to be an impossible situation.

We resolve to take a load of "lesser" bucklings to the terminal barn as soon as Chuck can get a day off when there is a sale going.  We resolve to get the water situation handled by getting a solar pump, or using a generator to a holding tank, or SOMETHING.  Carrying water daily is a herculean task, and the fact that is requires the big truck means it burns a lot of diesel, and deisel is high high high.  We resolve to take the leap and learn to grow either cucumbers or tomatoes.  We've been offered some help getting started, and right now, even with both of us working full time, it seems the cost of living plus child care is more than we make (this always makes me think about the people who condemn those less fortunate than themselves, saying that if someone is but willing to work, of course they can make a living and pull themselves up by their bootstraps.  I also hear folks saying that if people can't afford kids, they shoudn't have them.  Well, when we started having our kids, we could easily afford them.  If a six figure income is required to qualify to have kids, then most folks would be childless.  I don't plan on being at the bottom of the salary scale forever, but when you're starting over, you have to start somewhere). 

Most of all, I think, is that we resolve to be more available for our human kids.  Both Annalee and Chip have been suffering from our new jobs and how much physical and mental energy they have required.  Virginia hasn't suffered as much, because she is at an age that if we try to ignore her, she'll be on the kitchen counter pulling plates out of the cabinets and starting to fling them like frisbees.  And then, of course, there was the time she got in to the glitter.  We weren't actually sure whether or not she had eaten any until we picked her up from day care the next day.  As I walked in the door, they asked, "did Virginia get into any glitter?  She had the sparkliest blowout we've ever seen today."

I also resolve to retain my sense of humor.  I've had to do that with the teaching gig, as even when I think I am finally getting it with the kids and maybe helping them understand and connect with the literature, I get my tail handed to me on a platter by administration for one foible or another.  Life is short, and I'm beginning to realize that maybe we aren't supposed to be miserable all the time just so we can say we work hard.  There must be balance, and we must live productively and responsibly, but also choose paths where we can find joy

Louisianna and her twins, surrounded by cold puddles.  This is the time to think of renewal and possibilities.
 

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy turkeys at Thanksgiving!

    
     We knew this year we'd have a break from our old traditions at Thanksgiving simply because my mother is no longer able to cook.  She is in a lovely assisted living facility, which has been a blessing in so many ways, not the least of which is that we know she is always safe and well fed.  We had planned to have a family lunch at the clubhouse in her community, but she developed pneumonia and had to be hospitalized earlier this week.  So what do you do when the family matriarch is in the hospital at Thanksgiving?  You have Thanksgiving lunch at the hospital cafeteria! 

This picture of my mom in 2004 is on the wall at the hosiptal.  She volunteered there for 30 years and had the 2nd most hours of any volunteer at the time of her "retirement."  We passed it as we went to the cafeteria.

     Luckily our kids are used to lots of change and having to be flexible, so they were up for the adventure.  We took mom downstairs and had turkey, carrots, sweet potatoes, and dessert among all the staff who had drawn the short straw and had to work.  The food was good, and it was a low stress meal.  Before we left, Annalee got a frozen yogurt and since Chip is not a fan of anything too cold, he chose a Sierra Mist soda as his dessert.  On the way out of the hospital, Annalee exclaimed, "this is the best Thanksgiving ever!"  Chip was singing the praises (literally, and loudly) of turkey and Sierra Mist for all the other folks walking into the parking deck.  It reminded me what is important about Thanksgiving. 
     The kids I teach had made some lists of things for which they are thankful earlier this week, and had mentioned such things as family, food to eat, a place to live, and being able to get a good education for free.  A couple of students were even thankful for their "haters," elaborating that their haters spurred them on to be even better and reach goals they never thought they could.  That's pretty insightful, and a pretty positive way to look at a challenge.  I have been so overwhelmed by the challenges we've faced this fall, it was good for me to have a moment to reflect on what these children, my flesh and blood kids and my students, have already taught me.

Chuck snapped a picture for me a few weeks ago.  They had expanded quite a bit when I saw them today.

     I saw the goats with my own eyes today for the first time in months.  The does are huge, and thinking about possibilities for kidding season is a good way to give myself a mental break from the challenges of building courses.  I hope my entry finds everyone well, and that everyone has had the opportunity to spend time with friends and family on this special holiday.  My children's joy at spending Thanksgiving in the hospital cafeteria reminded me that it isn't about what you eat or where you are, but rather about who you're with and how you look at it.

So many apologies...

Some of the does bred to Shaw for early winter kidding.

     ...To all of you.  I haven't answered emails, phone calls, or anything else recently, and I am so deeply sorry for that.  I have not been to our farm in months, and I doubt I will make it up there before Thanksgiving break.  The only reason I am taking this evening to write is that we have our very first "days off" of the semester Monday and Tuesday, and I quite frankly need the mental break.  I miss doing the goat stuff.  I still have to go to work and to seminars Monday and Tuesday, but it is the first chance I have to really sit, and breathe, and reflect... and gather myself for the next months.  Something had to give, and it cannot be work, because the kids I am working with are a challenge as a whole, but are such amazing and interesting and wonderful individuals.  Even when I wish it were an option to wave a magic wand and have their mouths fuse shut like in that scene in The Matrix, I admire their ferocity and their courage.  My own children have been put on the back burner more than is ever fair, just due to my level of exhaustion, and I resolve to spend more time with them actually being with them mentally.  This, for better or worse, has dropped the farm to last place until I get this first year (or at least the first semester) behind me.  Chuck takes pictures when he has more than a moment up there, but we both are missing our family time at the farm.
     I keep telling myself that this is as hard as things will ever be, and it will get easier.  I keep telling myself that over and over again, and although I know it is true, I still have several months to go before I reach the point where I start over and begin to try to prefect this art of teaching.  Building the basic curriculum is huge.  I am trying to go through our texts and make sure I am current on them and all the research around them, and it just takes time.  I will not complain that Chuck now has a full time job, but I will say that the timing has been particularly unfortunate, because he so often has to close the store and that leaves me taking care of the young'uns on my own until their bedtime, and there isn't much time after that to create lessons, grade papers, look for fun ways to address the literature (I am determined to improve at this), and do laundry so everyone has clean clothes for the next day.  Now, I have to say that even on the bad days, I still prefer what I am doing now to what I have done in the past.  I made about three times as much before, but I was always waiting for an opportunity to get out.  Now, I find that I am just eager to have ten years of experience under my belt and be the teacher I want to be. 

A few does, mature and young, in the mixed field. 

     Chuck tells me that the does, or at least the early bred sets, are starting to look bred.  I had planned to sell some bred does to get a little cash, because Chuck totalled the family truckster (my Subaru) at a particularly bad intersection, but we haven't even had time to focus on which ones.  We actually don't even see each other all that often these days!  There are wrecks at this intersection in question all the time, and I am just thankful that everyone was fine.  The kids were not even sore, so the investment in a safe car and good carseats paid off completely.  I miss old Blue Car, though.  I was able to fit everyone in it, and put several flakes of hay on the roof, and it drove around the farm even better than the big truck because of its All Wheel Drive (which is a beautiful thing).  The kids miss it, too, and even saved a piece of paint off it.  When you travel 150,000 miles or more with a car, you just get so they are part of the family, too. RIP ol' Blue Car.  To everyone I have neglected over the past few months, I again apologize.  I will try to be a better correspondent, and get back to everyone is a timely fashion.  We at least have some breaks coming at school now.  These first few months without a single break or teacher work day have been one loooooong haul.

A few of the young bucks.  The cold snap has brought on the hair.

    

What a blur!

     Has anyone noticed it has been a while since last I blogged?  I apologize for having no pictures, and will try to add some when Chuck gets home and I can get some off of his phone.  Let me preface my entry today by saying I think I might have made it to the farm once in the past two weeks, and I just got up from a nap forced by absolute exhaustion.  The kids are having a nap, too, simply because I insisted they take one and allow me to grab one.  Two weeks ago I went back to high school, except this time I'm on the teaching end of the equation.  I've been studying for this for years, and had planned to make the switch right after Chip was born but layoffs and whatnot slowed me down.  Going in to this, I knew that the initial semester would be the most labor intensive as I am building my courses from scratch... but now that I am in the thick of it I am really thinking how nice it will be when I have all this initial work behind me and I can work on refining rather than building from the ground up.  I'm already ready for Christmas vacation!
     Annalee has gone back to school, too, as a First Grader and Chip has started JrK.  The inequity inherent in our educational system has been driven home to me again after First Grade parents' night, as I sat in Annalee's chair at her little desk and marvelled at the technology built into the classroom, and the richness of resources that pack it wall to wall.  I, on the other hand, stand daily in front of a chalkboard.  I do have a projector I rely heavily upon for PowerPoints and am using to learn the SmartBoard, but it is one that requires the image be projected on it and I need to master the art of writing on it while not casting a shadow across it so it can't be seen.  I've already decided that WHEN I win the lottery (power of positive thinking) I will go back to being a stay at farm mom because I really miss taking the kids to school as I was able to do last year, and the look on Virginia's face as I have to hand her into someone else's arms at day care causes my heart to break daily.  I'll move to the farm so I can lay eyes on the goats without having to drive an hour round trip, too!  I also will donate the money to my school that they have tried unsuccessfully to raise so they can have a football team.  I hear in the voices of many of the kids some resentment tinged with a wistfulness when they talk about what they don't have that other schools in the system do have.  Envy is called a sin, but it is tough to look out of the eyes of kid wanting to play football for his school and not having the opportunity, and not succumb to it.
     On Friday, one of the kids smiled at me and shook her head and told me I had come to the wrong school (I should mention Friday was a particularly rowdy day with some high emotion and high drama swirling about).  She and her friends asked me if I was there just because I like kids.  I didn't quite know how to phrase my answer.  I don't love kids just because they are kids, really.  I am enjoying getting to know and understand them a little bit as individuals, but what I like is when I see them "rise above."  There have been plenty of moments when I wonder what the h e double toothpicks I was thinking going into this (okay so maybe more than moments), but then, these little moments when I see someone choose the better path have breathed a bit of life back into me.  I love the written word, for sure.  I've waxed poetic on several occasions that reading some texts makes me wonder how something so perfect and so beautiful could possibly have been captured and put on the page.  I don't expect eveyone to love reading and writing like I do and that's okay.  I just hope I can become a teacher who helps students find the confidence to not feel defeated before they start; to not look at a quiz and decide they're going to fail before they even take a deep breath, and pause, and allow the question to wander around in their brain a bit. 
     On a goat note, we are still building a paddock up next to the road which was supposed to be for Boomer and his does.  When Chuck went up to the farm today (did I mention he finally got the job he was hoping to get, which happens to have a variable schedule so we don't know if we're coming or going?) he found that Boomer had busted out of his temporary area, and taken his does to the barn, where they had proceded to break the snap on the fence and let Shaw and his does out, too.  Well, well.  At this point, the does are almost surely already bred, and Chuck had to get back home to make it to work on time, so he just collected them all up and put them in the larger top field.  Boomer and Shaw had come to an understanding when they were in the buck field together, so I am hoping we don't find any broken legs, necks, or horns when we go back up to check them.
     We are still getting rain at the farm.  We actually never stopped getting rain since my posts about how soggy this summer has been.  We have ruts in the road that have stayed full of water all summer long.  They have developed ecosystems andt he frog eggs that were laid in them months ago have now become frogs.  As we drive past the puddles we see scores of pairs of beady little eyes ducking down under the green algae that skin coats the water.  With the West Nile issues around, I am not loving the puddles and the mosquitoes that surely breed in them as well.  I hope those little frogs are all really hungry.  I also hope (I can't believe I am saying this out loud) we get an extended period of hard freeze this winter.  We never had any dry weather to relieve us of even a smidge of parasite load.  This summer has been an intestinal worm's paradise up our way.  We've had to deworm some, and we've lost a few, but again, we are seeing which individuals are just the toughest of the tough and that knowledge will help us move forward.
     I still am thankful I'm not in the position of all the folks who saw their crops wither away to nothing in the drought.  My heart goes out to all of them.  In English class, we are reading texts that show how man has tried to make sense of the world around him, and in many cases given human attributes to such things as the night, the seasons, and the weather.  When we humanize these things, we somehow hope we can speak to them and reason with them, and maybe ask them to be gentle with us and our animals.  Mother nature may be unpredictable, but as a Mother, we hope her love for all her creatures tempers her often devastating touch with at least some tiny bit of tenderness.