Two Months

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Another month has gone by, and we’re all still here. (Though there were a few times Anya almost ended up living with the sheep.) I started back to work last Monday, so Anya spends her weekdays at an in-home daycare with her zookeeper and lots of kids and dogs.

Here’s Anya’s list of accomplishments for the last month:

+ Focuses on things and follows stuff when it moves
+ Has perfected her right hook
+ Smiles and chortles
+ Rolls from her back to her right side and then starts to cry ’cause she can’t roll back to her back
+ Appreciates the value of scales (the musical kind)
+ Is working on a gnarly mohawk
+ Slept from 11:00 pm to 6:00 am (once…last night…I, however, still woke up at 3, 4, and 5)
+ Chews on her fist
+ Makes a lovely neck cheese

She has her two-month doctor visit on Wednesday and will get lots of shots. I plan to make a voodoo doll of the nurse who gives the shots, so Anya can get some revenge.



Gentle Ben

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Today we were heading out to work, drove up our little street and turned onto US 221. We hadn’t gone very far when we saw what looked like a large dog running towards the road. Then we realized it wasn’t a dog, but a black bear. Which don’t run so much as lope, and not all that fast, as it turns out. I slammed on the brakes and barely stopped in time to avoid stocking our new freezer with bear meat. It seemed rather small to me, so I don’t think it was full grown. Probably it was picking through somebody’s trash.

Of course, now I’m all paranoid we’re going to come home one day and find it munching on our beehives. :(


Bloody Nightmare

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This morning I had my six-weeks-after-the-baby checkup, so I couldn’t sit around in my pajamas all morning. I was actually up and ready in plenty of time and was topping off the baby’s tummy while I waited for Andy to finish up with the animals and get ready to leave. Baby and I were lazing on the bed nursing, the fans were blowing, the birds were chirping. It was all pretty idyllic, so when I thought I heard Andy yell something from outside I tried to ignore it. No no, I was just imagining I heard his voice. It was nothing. A figment. A weird bird. My brain kept working, though, and realized that (A) Andy had been outside for a very long time, and (B) weird birds do not say, “SHEEP HURT.”

I hopped up and ran to the window and saw Andy in the sheep pen pouring some grain into their bin. Huh. Maybe I did imagine it. Then I saw something from a horror movie: a white sheep with a bright red face.

I put the baby in a safe spot, hopped into my shoes, and ran down the hill. By now I saw that Andy had been using the grain to try and lure the injured sheep, but that hadn’t worked so Andy was chasing the sheep (one of the white ram lambs) around the pen trying to catch him.

There is blood dripping off the sheep’s chin. He broke a horn. The horn was still dangling off the sheep’s head by a flap of skin. Did I mention the blood?

I freaked out a bit and tried to get in the pen to help, but in my panic I didn’t actually turn the fence off and kept getting shocked while I tried to open and close the fence. When I got in, we both tried again to catch the sheep but weren’t able. Andy went back to the barn for more grain, and with its power we were able to grab the sheep.

Here’s kind of what it looked like: The horn (about four inches long) was dangling like I said. It was mostly hollow (and filled with a pool of blood). On the sheep’s head where the horn used to be was the horn bud-type-thing … a little cone about an inch or two tall. And it seemed like the thing was just leaking blood.

I held the sheep and Andy sprayed blukote (kinda like liquid band-aid) on the wound. It was pointless. The blood just washed the spray down the sheep’s face. We realized that was futile and tried to figure out other ways to get the bleeding to stop. One problem was that the dangling horn was really bugging the sheep, and he was shaking his head and smashing it into the ground. We decided we needed to get that horn off. Andy tried to quickly yank it, but that wasn’t going to work. I held the sheep down while Andy ran up to the house for a pair of snips and a rag to try and help stop the bleeding.

When he got back, Andy fairly easily snipped the horn off. He then held the rag to the horn stump thing, but it just wasn’t helping. He tried the blukote again. No luck.

Finally we realized we couldn’t do anything else. We talked about calling the vet out, but this isn’t a pet and as horrible as it may sound the sheep wasn’t “worth” the cost of the vet. We realized that horns break on sheep in the wild or sheep out on big pastures, and they survive. The wound would clot eventually. So, we crossed our fingers. Andy finished up chores, we both cleaned up, and we left.

On my drive home from the doctor I kept my fingers crossed that I would find a fairly healthy sheep with a stopped-bleeding wound. I was rather nervous and had this horrible thought I’d have to call up our neighbor to see if he’d bring his gun over and put the sheep down. Thankfully, when I pulled up next to the sheep pen, I saw that the sheep was doing okay and that the bleeding had all but stopped. I took another peek about two hours later, and he’s pretty much the same. When Andy gets home we’ll probably have another go at getting the wound coated with blukote to keep the dirt and bugs out.

A coworker of Andy told him about this stuff called “BloodStop” made for occasions like this. We’ll be picking some up today. If this happens again, we’ll be better prepared. As I read back through this I wonder if we should have called the vet. What I wrote sounds sort of horrible…the part where we just left. Where is the line between being neglectful and being farmer-y? We don’t want the sheep to die or be in pain, but again…this isn’t a pet. Most likely this sheep will end up being meat. I don’t know. I’ll definitely be thinking about this for a while.

Even though the blood has stopped flowing, the scene is still pretty bad. The other white sheep have red on them where they’ve come in contact with some blood. Perhaps the ram rubbed up against them or perhaps they picked up some blood from the grass. There are some bloody marks on the shelters. Andy and I both have purple stains on our arms and hands from the blukote. There is a horn in the kitchen sink, blood stained and with purple spots. Worst of all is, of course, the sheep himself. The entire left side of his head is a nasty mess of blood and blukote. It’s sort of black/purple. We may be able to wash him off a bit, but the blukote stains.

Cabol wrote all that on 6/27 and then we forgot to post it. As an update, the sheep seems to be doing well. Most of the blood and blue kote have washed away in the rain. We saved the horn, although the kitties like to try and play with it.


CTALITMON #1

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Cool Thing About Living in the Middle of Nowhere #1:

If you put the clothes you are wearing into the washing machine because you plan to go right up and take a shower but when you go check the baby one last time she’s awake and you don’t want to take a shower while she’s awake and alone and then you remember you need to turn the water off outside but you are all dirty and don’t want to put on clean clothes just to run outside, you can just put on your shoes and go outside and turn the water off without any clothes on at all.



Freak Show

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Baby bodies are very weird.

There’s the eye thing. Did you know when babies are born their pupils don’t dilate? And their eyes roam all over the place? I’m glad I knew the latter beforehand because otherwise I would have been calling the priest that first day for an exorcisim.

And then there’s the head thing. That weird squishy spot they have and the freaky ridges and bumps. Part of the head weirdness, I guess, is because babies are generally in some state of bald, and most of us aren’t used to spending a lot of time looking at bald heads.

Their mouths are freaky, too. The lack of teeth, though expected, is a bit startling. Especially as it adds to the cavernous appearance of their mouths. Baby mouths are huge. I think you could fit all the rest of the baby’s head in its own mouth.

Inside the mouth is something even more disturbing. The baby tongue. I was always impressed by people who could curl their tongues, but babies have those people beat hands down. Baby tongues undulate. It’s like looking at a tiny, pink stingray in motion.

As weird as these things are, they are all fairly typical (or so I’m told) for a baby. I’m curious, though, how many other babies have a collapsable ear. Anya has one. With a slight bit of pressure, the ear folds neatly in half. Sometimes if she’s been on her side or squished up against something for a while, the ear even stays folded when the pressure is removed. It’s like there’s velcro on there. It would be a neat trick if she could control it…she’d sure show those people bragging about being able to merely wiggle an ear. “Oh you can wiggle your ear, huh? Well, look at this!!”


Sumo Baby

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There are a few big issues in the parenting world that can really get people going: circumcision, vaccinations, breast vs. formula feeding, co-sleeping, and cloth diapers are the ones that come to mind right now. We didn’t have to worry about the first because we have a girl, and we don’t have much choice with the second because daycare requires it. What about the rest? We’ve been co-sleeping since Anya was born, due to supply issues in the beginning she’s a mixed breast/formula fed baby, and finally we have started using cloth diapers.

We wanted to do cloth diapers all along because it creates less waste and is cheaper. Navigating the cloth diaper world reminds me a lot of the first time I logged onto a MOO over ten years ago. Way too many choices, lots of foreign terminology, and tons of people with way too many opinions about how to do things. Seriously, there are at least half a dozen diaper types and probably hundreds of different diaper brands. There are newsgroups and journal communities and blogs devoted to the discussion of cloth diapers. I’m sort of reminded of the beanie baby craze when some of these people talk about getting the latest fuzzybunny AIO with that cute iguana pattern. I just wanted diapers.

I did some research and found what looked good to me. A one-size-fits-all diaper that looked and acted a lot like a disposable, had really great reviews, and came in a starter pack so I didn’t have to worry about what to buy. One problem…this starter pack cost over $400. So, I waited to see if maybe someone would buy them for us, and time ticked by. I really was not looking forward to plunking down that money, so when Andy found someone selling a set of diapers, covers, and inserts online for only $180 we jumped on it. These diapers are a different type than what I had wanted, but I did some quick research before we got them and the reviews were decent.

I knew that the one-size-fits-all would probably not fit baby when she first came home, and so we started things out using disposables. After about two or three weeks, I tried one of the cloth diapers on Anya and it was way too big. Monday I pulled them out again. They are still big on her, but they aren’t falling off. However, they are incredibly massive.

The diapers sort of swallow Anya. When she’s lying down, her knees have to bend for her feet to touch the ground. Her center of gravity has changed from her massive baby head to her huge diaper butt. I can’t get most of her clothes to fit over the diaper, and if I can she takes on the shape of a bowling pin. She’s a cartoon character. A sumo baby.

As she gets bigger, the diapers will (hopefully) fit better. In the meantime, we just sort of laugh at her and are glad that at this age she can’t tell the difference between “laughing with you” and “laughing at you.” (And we use disposables when we go out, so we can get her clothes on.)


Sheep Tales

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Sheep Tale I

One day about two weeks ago I heard some unusual sounds from the sheep. A baby sheep kept calling and calling and a mommy sheep kept calling back. The sheep do talk during the day, but this was much more frequent and sort of sad. I looked outside and saw Pumpernickel’s baby sitting next to the fence. On the wrong side.

I ran outside and chased her down and she tried to run through the fence and got snagged up a bit and I caught her and pitched her over the fence and then turned the charger on because Andy had forgotten to turn it on after feeding them that morning.

This was when we learned:

1. Baby sheep are not scared of the fence and will test it to see if it is on
2. Baby sheep can somehow squeeze through the fence and/or crawl under it

Sheep Tale II

We finally hooked up with the shearer and got the adult sheep sheared. We’re about a month or two late, and it’s been hot, so you’d think the sheep would have been excited about it. However, sheep are sort of stupid…or maybe they are incredibly smart. Not sure.

The shearer was scheduled to come out at noon (why the hottest part of the day??), so Andy and I went out at around 11 to try and get the sheep herded into a smaller, more manageable area. Of course the sheep don’t like to be managed and escaped the fence and we had to run around waving our arms to finally get them all contained. By that time we were pretty tired, but, alas, that was the easiest part of the day I think.

When the shearer arrived, Andy and I tried to put a harness onto one of the sheep to lead her out for her haircut. We’d bought the harness back during lambing time and it specifically said it was for sheep. I guess it was for bigger sheep because it wouldn’t stay on Sadie’s head. The shearer took pity on us and came over with an actually useful harness and snagged Pearl. He led her out of the “pen” (smallish area fenced in with the portable electric fencing we use) and tied her up to a post in our porch area. He then went back for Sadie, who wanted nothing of it. While the shearer was dragging Sadie to the shearing area, Pumpernickel’s baby flung herself at the fence and pushed her way through somehow and got away. While we were trying to get the baby back in the fence, Pumpernickel also escaped. At around this point Anya (who was on the upper level of the porch) started crying, so I had to abandon ship.

Eventually Andy got Pumpernickel and her baby into the new “pasture” where we planned to put the sheep after shearing. Not ideal but she was at least contained. Then, Andy decided to try and give the baby sheep their shots. This was when utter chaos broke out. Baby sheep do not like to be caught. Baby sheep don’t care about pesky fences. Baby sheep stampeded, and baby sheep were everywhere.

At this point I am sure the shearer was having a very hard time containing his laughter at these silly city folk trying to be shepherds. Luckily he was too busy shearing to pay too much attention.

Andy finally got the babies in the new field with Pumpernickel and her baby. I believe grain was involved. Things went fairly okay after that, and finally everyone was sheared. The shearer got a good tip.

This was when we learned:

1. Baby sheep are more scared of shots than of going through an electrified fence
2. Grain is a powerful sheep lure

Sheep Tale III

Last Thursday night was sort of chilly, so we closed most of the windows. Andy was back in the office doing something, and I was (as usual) distracted by trying to amuse Anya. Around 10 or 11, I started noticing that the sheep seemed a bit noisy. They don’t usually make much noise at night, so it seemed a bit odd. I opened the back door and took a peek out, but (duh) it was dark so I didn’t see anything. The baaing didn’t seem too weird, so I went back to my discussion of quantum physics with Anya. But I kept hearing them. And then I finally realized they were so noisy I was hearing them through the closed windows.

About this point Andy emerged and I was hunting for the flashlight and I told him what was going on. Did I mention not only was it dark out but it was foggy? I took the flashlight onto the back porch and started shining it around. Good thing sheep eyes get all reflectivey like cats eyes, or I may not have seen Pearl meandering around the yard outside the fence.

Crap.

We threw on shoes and ran outside and found that the battery on the fence charger was dead because it had been cloudy and foggy and the solar panels couldn’t make any juice. Only Pumpernickel and the white ram lambs were still where they should be. Everyone else was galavanting about having a merry old time. Well, I take that back. The two lambs were not quite where they should be; they were tangled up in the fence. One of them was very, very tangled, and I was worried we were going to have to cut the fence to get him out. Luckily we managed somehow to free him and get him back on the right side of the fence. The other lamb that was caught wasn’t tangled so much and we quickly got him freed and back in. Unfortunately, by this time the escapees had disappeared.

Our property is lined on both sides by a barbed wire fence and pine trees or shrubs. The escaped sheep had somehow made their way through the shrubs and past the fence into the neighbor’s field. We couldn’t see them, but we could hear them. They did not seem at all interested in coming back even though the ram lambs and Pumpernickel were calling for their mom/baby.

About this time I had to go take care of Anya and couldn’t help anymore. Luckily, Andy remembered the power of grain and ran off to the barn to get some. When the escaped sheep heard the grain jingling in the grain can, they came running. It was still a bit of a feat to get them back inside the fence, but it did happen.

This was when we learned:

1. The importance of making sure the battery on the fence is charged
2. Adult sheep will jump over a fence when a baby sheep has pulled it down by getting tangled in it


Cheep Cheep Cheep!

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It’s happened again! The d’Ucccles have given birth to 6 little chicks so far (although there are still a lot of eggs left in their house,

and this time the Japanese gave birth to two chicks!

The cochin mommy has been sitting on her nest for awhile too, and still is, so maybe she’ll actually hatch some this time.

Need to build a ramp again for the d’Uccles so they can hop back into their house and don’t get stranded in the cold night again. Although it’s not as cold as last time, I’d still feel bad if any got stranded away from their mothers.

Anyone want to buy some chickens? :)