Author Archives: Cabol

Oct 22 2006

Timber!

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Last weekend, Andy’s mom and a friend came out to visit us. We had woken up early that Saturday because we didn’t know when they’d be there, and we had some cleaning to do. We finished our cleaning, and waited a bit, but no visitors. (Turns out they, like most people on their first visit to our house, had been slowed down by the windy, climby roads and also gotten lost.)

Inspired by my mom the week before (who said, “Hey, maybe I’ll take the lopers and start taking off the lower branches of that pine you want to take down.”), I took the lopers and started taking off the lower branches of that pine we want to take down.

The folks who lived here before planted a lot of trees, but they planted them rather willy-nilly. This particular pine was about six or ten feet from the driveway. Over the years, it had grown to be probably two stories high, but because it was so close to the driveway, it had a very funny shape where the bottom had been trimmed back. The tree looked stupid. Not to mention, it was in a tree cluster. Four large trees planted in about a 20’x20′ square. A birch, two tulip poplars, and a white pine. It drove me nuts everytime I saw it because the trees looked so cramped and appeared about ready to start a fight, “He’s on my side!” “No, I’m not! She touched me!” “Get off my side!” “Quit touching me!”

As sad as it is to take down nice, big trees, sometimes you just gotta do it. I foresee many other trees on this property coming down, alas. If only people would think ahead when they plant saplings of the mighty oak or poplar.

So! I was outside loping off branches and pitching them into a big pile. Andy couldn’t miss out on the fun and grabbed the hedge trimmers to snip off the yummy outter edges of the branches to feed the sheep. (Vitamin C!) Eventually he got bored with the lack of adventure in trimming branch tips, and I ran out of branches I could reach to lop, and Andy’s mom and her friend still hadn’t found our house.

Andy disappeared up to the tool shed for a moment and returned triumphantly with….the ax.

We don’t have a chainsaw yet, so Andy took the ax and began to chop. I took a lot of pictures of him in action, but he doesn’t quite have the technique down, and he looked sort of silly. And, more than that, when I see the photos of him chopping, I get afraid he’s going to chop his leg off.

Andy chopped and chopped and eventually….TIMBER!!!

Now we had a problem. See where the tree is? Right across the driveway? The driveway Andy’s mom and friend will soon be trying to drive up? We rushed to get the tree off the driveway, expecting at any moment to hear the crunch on the gravel indicating the approach of a car. Of course, we couldn’t just move the tree. It was sort of heavy, so Andy loped like a jackrabbit and I drug branches off into piles along the driveway. Finally, I saw the blue car heading down the hill from the craft shack, “They’re coming!!!” We grabbed branches and PULLED. And PULLLLLLLLED. *SNAP* The last bit of tree fiber holding the tree and stump together cracked, and the tree moved! We were able to pull all the tree bits off the road by the time the car reached us!

Phew.

Anyone want to come out and help us finish off this tree? Don’t worry, you don’t have to rush. Something tells me that the piles of branches and the huge tree body aren’t going anywhere.

Oct 22 2006

Duck, duck, ostrich?

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The ducks have started laying, and in just in time, too, because the chickens have almost completely stopped. As the days grow shorter and colder, the chickens say, “Eh, we’re tired of this egg thing. Lay your own if you really want them.” Luckily, the ducks are much nicer and don’t seem to care so much about light or temperatures.

The first duck egg Andy found was about the size of one of the regular-sized bantam chicken eggs. On about the third or fourth day, Andy got a huge surprise.

Going right to left, the first duck egg, a duck egg a day or two later, and the Giant Massive Mutant Duck Egg. When I put the GMMDE into an egg carton, it fit incredibly snugly into the little spot. When I tried to close the lid, the GMMDE pushed up on the styrofoam and made and little outdent on the carton.

This is a BIG egg.

Since that day, the eggs have gone back to a more normal size. Maybe this one is a double-yolker? We haven’t opened it yet. I think Andy is afraid a dinosaur may pop out of it when he cracks the shell.

Sep 23 2006

More sheep

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Talked to the vet this morning to discuss the results of Pumpernickel’s most recent poo test. She still has worms, but they are at a moderate instead of high level. Also, her cockadoodledoo levels were high (internal critters all sheep have but can get too high when the animal is stressed). We had to swing by the vet before heading out to get the new sheep so we could pick up some more meds…some cockadoodledoo stuff and some vitamin b (injectable…aie).

After the vet, we hopped on the road towards Roanoke and points beyond. The farm, Ingleside Icelandics, was sort of near Appomattox, and we drove right past all sorts of Historic Sites. We pulled into the driveway at the farm and saw our sheeps waiting for us in a little pen. We chatted with the Ingleside folks for a bit and then loaded Pearl, Sadie, and Sydney into the back of the truck. These sheep are so big and fluffy!

On the way home we stopped to get gas. While the gas was pumping we stared in at the sheep. This guy filling up his SUV next to us kept kinda peeking over. Finally, he came over and grinned and said, “Can I see?” His daughter came out of the gas station, and she came over and they both peeked in and made “oooo” and “ahhhh” sounds. The guy thanked us and said, “It’s not very often you see someone at a gas station with sheep. Thank you for letting us look at them!” It was cool. :)

Finally we got home. Andy put Pumpernickel up in the barn ’cause we had to give her meds, and then we set to getting the sheep out of the truck. They did not want to get out. We ended up pulling and pushing and finally prying Pearl out, and once she was out the rest followed more easily. They ran right into the field and started chowing down.

After we got Pumpernickel her meds, we opened the door. Pumpernickel RAN out of the barn and headed straight for the other sheep baaaaaaaaaaaaing all the way. She seemed incredibly happy to see her new pals and went over to each in turn and said hello. Then the new sheep sort of circled her and sniffed her butt and went back to eating grass.

A little while later, though, Pearl decided Pumpernickel was a little uppity or something because Pearl ran over and headbutted Pumpernickel right into the fence!

The next fun task was to get the rope-type ties off Pearl’s and Sadie’s necks. The ties were on to help catch and move around the girls (Sydney has horns), and if we’d been thinking we’d have taken the ties off while the sheep were in the truck. Instead we spent about an hour chasing them around. We did finally get Pearl’s tie off by tempting her over with some grain, but Sadie was too shy for that. We stopped, though, when Pearl started to pant and we realized we were stressing them. We would have just let them go for a while, but at one point Sadie got the loop of her tie caught on a nail on the barn. Finally, we herded all three new sheep into the barn and managed to get hold of Sadie and get her tie off. All the while, Pumpernickel just sort of looked on from afar..wondering what the big deal was.

So, um, yeah, we went with option D…if you hadn’t figured that out yet.

Sep 20 2006

Survey – Input Needed

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We need to get a friend for Pumpernickle. We found a farm in VA that has Icelandics for sale. They are also having a special for September because they need to get rid of some sheep soon. In addition to the special, they’ll take another 10% off the top if we buy three sheep. This is a good deal for what looks like some good sheep.

Here are the links so you can see the sheep we are looking at:

Sadie and Sydney – http://www.inglesideicelandics.com/index_adultsheepforsale.htm
Pearl – http://www.inglesideicelandics.com/index_lambs.htm

Should we get:

A. Sadie

B. Pearl

C. Sadie and Pearl

D. Sadie, Pearl, and Sydney

A or B = less cost up front, a little bit less cost on maintenance, and no income from lambs next year.

C = more cost up front, a little bit more cost on maintenance, and no income from lambs next year.

D = larger cost up front, a little bit more cost on maintenance, and possible income from lambs next year.

Sep 15 2006

R.I.P. Sourdough

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Sourdough died a bit ago.

She had pneumonia. Andy went down to check on them around 9 or so, and Sourdough wouldn’t get up. He called the vet, and by the time she got here, Sourdough was lying on her side and breathing sort of shallow. The vet went to her truck to get an IV and some other things, and by the time she got back, Sourdough was barely breathing. So, Andy and the vet decided to just let her go, and so they sat with her until she died. Andy trimmed off as much of Sourdough’s fur as he could, so maybe some day when I know what I’m doing I can make a nice scarf or something. We buried her under a birch tree up by the craft shack.

Sep 15 2006

Feelin’ Froggy

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A couple of days ago we were outside doing stuff. Andy was waaaaay over by the workshop, and he did a little dance and bent over and picked something up and wiggled and came over and had a HUGE toad in his hands. I like toads.

This really was a big toad. I wanted to be able to show everyone how big, so I asked Andy to put his hand near the toad. Of course, the giant hand scared the toad and it fled. Andy swiftly grabbed the toad and clutched it close to his bosom. (I guess his reflexes aren’t too old for amphibians…just reptiles.) I was so proud and beamed as I got this photo.

Then things suddenly took a turn for the worse….Andy shrieked and threw the toad into the air. The toad flewwwwww and went kerplunk on the gravel! I squeaked and waved my hands in the air, “You tossed the toad!!!”

“It peeeeeeeed on me!”

“You could have killed it!”

“But…it peed on me!”

I laughed and laughed and laughed. I’m laughing right now thinking about it. Teehee. The toad peed on Andy.

The End.

Sheep Update: Sourdough’s bottle jaw (sheep necks get swollen and full of fluid when they have bad worms — it’s called bottle jaw) is almost completely gone, and she’s up and about more, going potty, eating a little. She wasn’t eating a whole lot, so Andy called the vet, and I picked up a syringe of steriods after work. Yup. I got to give a sheep a shot. The steriods are supposed to help her appetite and also help reduce the inflammation in her tummy and guts from the worms. Pumpernickle’s bottle neck is still there, but she’s very perky and was running around and even baaa’ed.

Sep 13 2006

Breakfast (for Thumbelina)

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Andy found a teeny itty bitty egg today. This is the smallest egg by far. Perhaps one of the younger hens has started laying? We didn’t crack it open. I think Andy was scared a teeny tiny chicken baby would fall out. The egg next to the wee egg is a “normal” egg for our chickens. The marker next to that egg is…a marker.

Sheep Update: Pumpernickle seems to be doing very well. Sourdough seems to be getting a tiny bit better, but she’s still pretty sick. She did go out side and eat a few leaves of clover this evening, and that made me happy.

Sep 13 2006

Sick sheep

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About a week or two ago we noticed the sheep seemed sort of thin. It’s really hard to tell if a sheep is skinny or fat or regular because she often has 8 inches of fluff hiding her body. You have to really wiggle your fingers down into the sheepy fur to find the actual sheep. When we noticed the thinness, we started trying to fatten them up by feeding them more. We also gave them a dose of dewormer. Turns out, the dosage levels on the container of wormer aren’t all that effective…or so says the big animal vet we went to today.

This weekend, we noticed that Sourdough wasn’t quite as hyper as usual, and the grain they get every night wasn’t all gone in the morning. Yesterday when I went to let the sheep out of the barn, Sourdough was flumped in a corner and had to be prodded to get up. Not good. Nope. Not good at all. We gave her another dose of dewormer.

This morning, she was even more listless. We did see her eat and go potty a little, but she just was not doing well. I went to work, and Andy turned detective. All the signs pointed to severe worm levels. Andy called our cat vet who referred us to a big animal vet who told us to bring in poo.

While we were waiting for the test results, I heard someone in the back of the vet clinic say, ‘Hey, you remember the other day when you had that goat that had more worms then you’d ever seen before? Well, come look at this.’

Sourdough’s worm levels were extremely high. Extremely. The vet told us to dose both sheep (Pumpernickle seems mostly okay, but her worm levels were high, too) with six times the amount recommended on the bottle. Wow. The vet also suggested we give them some watery yogurt to help get their gut bacteria going again.

The only good thing about Sourdough being so listless was that it was pretty easy to get her meds and her yogurt into her tummy. We got everyone dosed, and Sourdough even joined Pumpernickle at the hay for a few munches.

We’ll see how they are in the morning. Here’s a picture of them a few weeks ago. Hopefully they’ll be out munching grass and baaing at us again soon.

Sep 8 2006

Crikey! Isn’t she a beaut?

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Steve Irwin may have died, but his spirit lives on here at Loafkeeper Farm.

I had just gone into the bathroom to give Sana her fluids when I heard a shrill, girlish yelp from downstairs.

“Are you okay?”

“Snake!”

I was calm at first because….well, I was upstairs and the snake was downstairs and I didn’t really know if there was a snake at all or if Andy was just making it up because he’d gone batty from sniffing so much laundry detergent in his laundry orgy.

Then I started thinking about a snake. In the house. In the basement. Where my bed is. The bed where I sleep.

“A snake? Ummm…is it a big scary snake?”

“No, it’s a little baby snake but my freakish reflexes are too slow to catch it now that I am old.” (Okay, he didn’t really say it quite that way.)

As I sit on the bathroom floor, syringe in one hand and the other holding onto Sana…I picture Andy running around the basement chasing a snake and I realize he probably could use a little help. I hopped up and then paused and thought for a brief moment. AHA! I dashed into the bunny room, grabbed the bunny poop broom, dustpan, and trash can and raced down the stairs.

Well, not all the way down the stairs. I stopped a few steps up and timidly asked, “Um, where’s the snake?”

It had slithered under the big wooden chest and seemingly disappeared. I knew I had to act fast, so I sprinted down the last few stairs and flew across the room to the bed. Safe on my perch, I tossed the snake-catching tools to Andy.

Too bad I forgot the camera in my supply gathering spree. Luckily, Andy was not terribly adept at first with his weapons, so I had a chance to hightail it upstairs, grab the camera, and return to my safehaven towering high above the ground (pictured below during a more peaceful era).

Before reaching the bottom of the stairs, I once again paused for a status of the snake’s whereabouts.

Andy lost the snake.

“Where did it go?”

“Um…I don’t know. Maybe it went under the stairs?”

Images raced through my head of living in perpetual fear of Snakes on a Bed ™.

“Oo! I think it went into the bathroom!”

“Quick! Close the door!”

“Um, the door is closed. It went under the door.”

I ran on tip toes to the bed so I could watch. Andy flung open the door and swept the snake into the dust pan and then said, “QUICK! OPEN THE DOOR!” In the moment it too me to wave my hand at the garbage can I’d brought down, the snake squirmed off the dust pan, back onto the floor, and under the bookcase.

Andy brought in his backup.

Together, Andy and Buddy worked to herd the snake back out into the open. Alas, the snake was wiley, and when the boys weren’t looking, the snake slithered into MY PANTS!!!!!!!!

….which were on the floor waiting to visit the new washing machine.

The snake was in love with my pants. (After no washing machine for a week, I’m sure they smelled really fabulous!) The snake crawled all over my pants and wiggled in my pants and then…then…the snake crawled into my pocket! AHA! We had it trapped!

“Quick! Toss the whole thing into the trashcan!”

“It may jump on me!”

“Hurrrrry!”

The snake somehow got away and ran back under the bookcase. Buddy and Andy got into a huddle and planned their moves out. Moments later, the snake was in the trash can. Andy glowed with the triumph of kings! (Or possibly from the fumes of my smelly pants.)

We both peered down into the trashcan and Andy said quietly…awe in his voice…

“Crikey! Isn’t she a beaut?”

Sep 7 2006

Andy’s gone a warshin’

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Last week I decided to do laundry. Hard to believe, I know, but Andy was out of town and wasn’t going to be back for a while, and so I had to do it. I tossed all my work clothes in, added soap, got things swooshing, and went about my evening. About twenty minutes later I smelled smoke. No big deal…folks are always burning stuff around here. I looked out the window to search for the smoke, and I realized it was raining. It had been raining all day.

I found the smoke about thirty seconds later when I ran downstairs and opened the doors to the laundry room. A thick cloud of burning-tire-smelling smoke filled the laundry room. I yanked the washer cord out of the wall and tried to chase kitties upstairs and opened windows and turned on fans and called my mommy and daddy.

Too bad all my work clothes were in the washer all wet and soapy. I pondered calling in to work the next day, but “All my clothes were in the washer when it burnt up” seemed a bit too much like “My dog ate my homework.” I wrung the clothes out as best I could, drug them upstairs to the bathtub, filled the bathtub with water, and danced on the clothes to try to work the soap out. Luckily the dryer was still working.

Andy came home a few days later, and off we trooped to buy a new washing machine. We found what we wanted online, went to the store to place our order, and sat back to wait for its arrival today. When we ordered the washer, we made it clear to the salesperson that our driveway was scary and twisty and slopy and bumpy. He said he would call and warn the delivery people.

==INTERMISSION==

=============

The washer was supposed to be delivered today. The driver called and said he was on his way, so Andy kept an eye out for him. A while later, he saw the truck way down at the end of the driveway. He waited. And waited. But the truck didn’t come. So, Andy hiked down the driveway and the truck driver said he couldn’t get the truck in the driveway. He was pulling the washer out of the box and loading it up onto a dolly. The driver was going to push our new washer the quarter mile of twisty, bumpy driveway to our house. Now that is a good, solid work ethic.

In addition to being a devoted delivery dude, this guy was also incredibly good with people. When an older guy approached in his pickup, delivery dude jumped into the middle of the road and waved the truck guy down. Delivery dude then convinced truck guy to transport our new washing machine from the road to our house.

You’d think now would be the end of the story and confetti and balloons would fall from the sky and we’d all cheer and wash clothes.

The washer wouldn’t fit through the door.

Bits of the door had to come off, and the washer got in. Delivery dude hooked things up, and after a bit of cursing our plumbing got things swirlin’ and whirlin’.

Things were pretty much golden for us at that point, but not for delivery dude. He still had the small matter of a burnt up washing machine to deal with. The truck guy was long since gone, but the dolly was there. Yup, delivery dude loaded the old machine onto the dolly and pushed it that quarter of a mile over hills and dales, past sheep and ducks, through clouds of gnats and poison dart frogs, and back to his truck.

I hope we weren’t supposed to tip.