Archive for the ‘On The Farm’ Category

Apparently not. If you haven’t been reading about the antics of Cooper The Bull and his friends, Bonnie and Clyde, go read it now. We’ll wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~INTERMISSION [youtube:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0wOD9TWynM%5D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The more I thought about being threatened, the more upset I became. There is something about this level of hostility that, while I don’t understand it at all, makes me even more worried than I was to begin with.

You let your bulls and cows run loose, but threaten me when I say I’m going to defend myself? That, seriously, is a special kind of cuckoo. And not the happy, cheery {redundant, I know, but I want to make sure you understand it} cuckoo clock birdie kind of cuckoo.

What could he have possibly thought he would accomplish by coming over and confronting me? How many times do I have to say, “We would not HAVE a problem if you had your animals contained!”?

I seriously doubt he would have had the guts to come over if my hubby was home.

I really don’t give a rip WHO you think you are. You are not going to come over on MY property and threaten me. ESPECIALLY when YOUR OWN SON was nearly trampled the day before AND has an arm swollen to three times its normal size. It’s probably a good thing I didn’t know that then, or I would have been inclined to point that out, too.

Sheesh. Some people.

I’ve talked to a whole lot of people who’ve all said the same thing: he thinks no one can tell him what to do, and he can push around whoever he wants to.

Well. Ahem.

Blame it on my ignorance of not knowing who the “important” people are around here, but I don’t give a rip who he *thinks* he is. He is no one of importance to me. And given the way he doesn’t take care of his animals, I can say without hesitation or reservation that I am GLAD he doesn’t think kindly of me or like me, because I have ZERO desire to be in that class with him or his kin.

I find the older I get, the less I give a rip about much of anything. You do the right thing {as in, keep your animals contained and freaking feed them} and I’ll have no quarrel with you. Do right and leave me alone, and you won’t hear a peep out of me because, {let’s say it together, boys and girls,} “I don’t give a rip.” Life is too darn short to be dealing with the amount of snot and feces some people are able to generate. And I am sick and tired of dodging both of them.

In addition to my concern over being shot by a person with clear mental issues, I worry about what they are going to do to my animals. It wouldn’t surprise me to find some downed fencing. A burned down coop. With that kind of irrational crazy, there’s no telling what all they would do. In a perfect world, I’d get one for the whole family, including the middle-finger-flipping teenagers.

Since I don’t live in a perfect world, I did the only real thing I could think of to do- I went to talk to the county magistrate and got myself a court date to get a restraining order. Apparently, out here, in order to get a restraining order, they have to issue a felony arrest warrant. Not quite what I had intended, but hey, if it gets his cows put back away, so be it.

Two days later, Bonnie and Clyde are still out. They’ve been hanging around my mailbox. Animal control said they would file charges, and this is not the first time.

I’m beginning to wonder if anything will ever get done. At some point, it’s almost normal to see them all over, and then there’s a jolt of, “Hey! That’s not right!” that reminds you that they are prone to charging.

A dear friend, who is also an awesome artist, suggested I write a children’s book about Cooper and his misadventures. She offered to illustrate. Although I don’t have her illustrations yet, I do have the first draft of the story and some pictures. Let me know what you think. :mrgreen:


The Mis Adventures of Cooper the Bull {and Friends}

Once upon a time, there was a bull named Cooper. Cooper was sad.

Cooper was sad because his friend, another bull named Frank, had died, many months ago. Cooper was all alone. No one came to see him to give him food. Cooper was so, so sad.

One day, someone brought him a horse. Oh, he was so happy! He chased and chased and chased that horse! And then he chased her some more. What fun!

A few weeks later, the people brought another horse. The first horse was very happy. She had a friend!

But poor Cooper, his happiness was gone. πŸ˜₯ The horse has a friend, but he had none.

Soon, it was winter. The two horses and Cooper were cold and hungry. The grass had stopped growing in the pasture. The people never came to bring them hay.

One day, Cooper decided he’d had enough! He saw the green fields around him that the farmer had planted, and he was hungry.

Could he get to the field? Would the short fence keep him in?

Hooray! The fence let him out! Very skinny Cooper was so, so happy! Now he could eat!

Yum! Yum!

Cooper learned there were a lot of puddles and a nice beaver dam nearby. This meant he didn’t have to be in his pen to get water.

Cooper was happy! He ate, and ate, and ate. He drank, and drank, and ate some more.

Cooper started to feel really good. He wasn’t skinny any more! His ribs and hips stopped showing. He started to make more muscle. He started feeling very strong.

The people didn’t care that Cooper was out. He roamed, and roamed. He visited the crazy lady across the street, in her yard. He had fun chasing her dogs. He had fun walking in the road and scaring the people who drove by.

Because Cooper was out of the pen, the people decided to give the horses some new friends. The people brought Bonnie and Clyde to the pen. They didn’t bring any food, though.

Bonnie and Clyde were sad. They were hungry, too. Why was Cooper allowed to be outside eating, but not them?

Well, they started to think it might be fun to be outside with Cooper. Then they could eat, too!

And, they could explore! They explored the woods. They explored the road.

A mean man came. Together with the lady and her girls, they put Bonnie and Clyde away.

Bonnie and Clyde weren’t sad, though. They knew a secret. Do you know what their secret was?

Shhhhh! The fence couldn’t keep them inside.

So, Bonnie and Clyde stepped right over the fence again. The explored the woods. They explored the road.

They explored until they found the bridge by the interstate.

ZIP! ZIP! ZIP! Those funny machines are fast! And loud!

The same mean man came, and moved them with his funny looking loud machine. He scared them so they would move away from the bridge by the interstate.

They knew he was going to try to make them go back in the pen. No sir, they’re not going back! Cooper doesn’t have to go back, so why should they?

Bonnie and Clyde ran into the woods to join Cooper.

One of the people got close to Cooper, but he hurt the man’s arm so the man would let go.

Cooper liked his freedom!

After that, the people drove by, but couldn’t catch Cooper. They were afraid of Cooper. Bonnie and Clyde like their freedom, too. They can all eat, even though the people finally brought hay, hoping to entice them to the pen.

But they’re not dumb, no sir! They’re not going to fall for that, especially when the good stuff is outside their pen

To this day, Bonnie, Clyde, and Cooper are happily outside the pen.

They eat. They sleep. They can chase the lady’s dogs if they want to. They can drink water from the beaver dam and big puddles.

And they can say hello to the people in their big, loud, funny machines, as they meet them on the road.

The End.










Shall we start a betting pool on when or if we think the rogue bovine will get captured and returned to the pen? Anyone?Β  :/

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NOT. Wowee.

I’m inclined to finally write this up, because it’s hard to know who knows what and what part of the story they know. Get your pocorn and your beverage now. You might also want to go to the bathroom before we start.

The important thing to know before we begin is that not only am I armed, I am ready. And I have used my good friend just the other night to fire a warning shot, because I really don’t want any harm coming to it, but it really can’t be here, threatening me, my kids, the garbage men, the people driving on the road, my dogs, my chickens, etc etc etc.

You may recall that we moved here about a year and half ago, after living in hell the NM desert. We had not planned on buying something before we sold our other house, but well, we found this one, and that’s all she wrote.

When we moved in, there were 5 abandoned horses in our front yard; one of them severely emaciated, starving, recently foaled and nursing both the new colt and 2 year old filly. As it turns out, the baby, renamed to Doodlebug, was actually born October 30; we closed November 8. {not sure why my times in that post were so wonky.}

It took us a while, but Halo did finally get rehabilitated and is now completely ride able, although she still struggles to add that final 100 lbs. {Pay attention, because this is all part of what’s been going on these days………………..}

Contrary to some popular local belief, the horses that were abandoned actually WERE on our property. And, we didn’t steal them or otherwise “take them over,”- we fed a horse for whom death was imminent. In NM, not reporting was a felony; if you knew of a starving horse and did nothing, you were also criminally liable. And, we actually DO have a bill of sale for every one of our horses. πŸ˜€

It took about a week of living here to figure out that not only were none of them being fed, but they had NO water. So we fed her. And so it began.

The homesite here has a really rich history. It used to belong to a Civil War Colonel {who is buried in the woods with his horse} and the state has the historical the he letters wrote to his wife on how to harvest their crops while he was at war. There was a Revolutionary War battle in the front pasture, from what we’ve been told.

The house is not that old, of course; it was built in the mid 1990s. The man who had it built was a very well-educated and prominent public servant in this tri-county area; one of the leaders in the state from what we hear. When we got the house, it was bank owned, thanks to the downward decline resulting from drug abuse.

It’s horribly sad. He lost his wife, his kids, his practice, and finally the home he had built- because of drugs. And basically every single room in the house had serious blood spatter in it. vomit

My daughter had a pretty serious accident on Magic because of a drug drop in the barn. {Drug dealers sat and watched, as she exercised the horse; sped over to the barn; finally getting out, running in, and then running back out, and revving the engine to speed away. This spooked the horse, who took off back to the paddock and dumped my daughter before trampling her arm. Thank God nothing was broken or that she wasn’t seriously hurt.}

Last summer, my son found a container of syringes. Some of them were used. Some were half full. Some of them had a bloody mixture in them. So, the sheriff’s department took them at some point. Since then, several other syringes and parts have turned up, thanks to the rain and the chickens……

During the first few months, we met pretty much every one who lives out this way. I think some of it was folks being neighborly; some of it just curiosity. The house and this man had a distinct reputation, and it’s not surprising folks were interested in the house and who bought it.

Part of the family that welcomed us was one branch that had a daughter a little younger than my oldest daughter, and they became fast friends. While they lived in the bigger town nearby, grandpa and numerous aunt/uncles/cousins all live right around here.

The girl got a horse. The girl. Not her parents. Her. She was in charge of taking care of the horse- feeding, etc etc, and paying for feed, etc. While they did buy some grain, all we ever saw them feed regularly were breakfast cereals, like Fruit Loops, and then broccoli. They also don’t believe in the farrier. Apparently, her dad was going to trim hooves, because he watched a video on YouTube.banghead 😯

Ahem. Ya.

By this time, they were up to 3 horses; only one of which could really be ridden. And, my daughter and this girl were no longer friends, because my daughter wasn’t able to stand seeing the neglect going on with the horses.

And then it was getting close to Christmas. I came home, to find the girl sitting in my driveway.Β  Could we help her, she wanted to know, figure out what to do to get her horses better? They couldn’t get them to keep any weight on them. Her mother made her come over because they knew we had rehabbed a horse, and knew what we were doing.

We went over with the girl, and I shot my vet some pictures. I relayed the information she gave me. I gave them her number. We went home and got them water they could actually drink.
















Ya. I know. We monitored, but at some point week or two later, per the advice of my vet, I called animal control. In the meantime, I had gotten a hold of an US Equine Rescue League investigator. She found a specialized rescue for them, and had a vet and transport on stand-by, waiting for them, all of which was communicated. The point is- they weren’t feeding them, and the odd occasions that they fed, they weren’t fed the right stuff.

Animal control issued a mandate to have the vet go out on and give them a written plan of care, which was to be shown to animal control. The daughter said they had not seen a vet, but had talked to one. The story they gave animal control was that they had seen a vet. He called and checked with the vet, who said he had seen the horse. Maybe it happened. Either way, it was enough that animal control couldn’t press charges after they shot and killed them, even though they had instructions NOT to.

The mother FBed my daughter that weekend with a message saying, “I hope you’re happy. Now we have to put them down. I hope you hear the gunshots when they go off!” 😯 The daughter posted we needed to go back to NM; the son {senior in high school} posted we were psycho and needed to go back to NM where we came from.

And, just yesterday, the kids were coming down the road {and now that they moved the the horse back to where they were, which we’ll get to, they have no actual reason to go flying down my dirt road} with 4 of them in the car, and they all flipped up off. πŸ˜† But hey, they’re praying for us. πŸ˜†

Now, in the midst of this crap, when they bought the second gelding, they moved their Tennessee Walking Horse across the street from us; dumping it in the bull pen. Yep.

I don’t think I need to say this, but they didn’t feed her over there, either. I have pictures of when she broke out and came in my side pasture to eat the grass, and given the pulled hay in my new hay bales, it surely looks like she got a late night snack or two, too. Honestly, I don’t begrudge the horse for breaking out in the winter to get herself some food. Hungry animals are inclined to find food when they’ve gone too long without.

So let’s talk about the bull pen….. when we moved in, Moo, a nice white heifer, was in there. At some point, she died, and they replaced her with two bulls.

Wait- let’s back up- the bull pen over there is leased by a different branch of this same family. The folks with the cows are some kind of cousin/uncle of the mother with the horses. The water for the pen comes from our well- and we don’t own the land. We are also not compensated for use of the water or the electricity used by my well. Because I know these people won’t bring their animals water and would literally let them thirst to death, we have graciously not capped that line so they can continue to use it. Some thanks, eh?

Anyhow, Moo died, they left her in the pasture to rot a while, and then there were two new bulls in there. Not only do they not feed them regularly, if at all, their water tank isn’t clean. But no matter; at least they have something. A few months down the road, one of the bulls died, preventing the other from taking shelter because it died IN the shelter and completely blocked the access. After a few weeks, the stench was unbearable, and bit of flesh would float over on a windy day. The dogs loved it; me- not so much.

So, the bull and the one horse have been in there a while. After several weeks, the bull stopped trying to kill the horse, and all was well. Now it’s winter, and not only is there no grass in the bull pen, but they have dumped ANOTHER horse in there. I’m pretty sure the junky hay from my hay field that was sitting there when we moved got taken over there. It was moldy, because it had sat out in the weather for over a year.

During the really cold weather we had, the hay ran out. And wasn’t replaced. At. All.

The guy with the cows- has a LOOOONNNNGGGGG history of starving his animals, and letting them run amok, including getting on the interstate, etc.

About a month ago, the remaining bull decided he’d had enough and skipped town. I am not sure where he got out, but he did. To this day, he remains at large. I took a picture a day later, when he was still out, and posted it on FB, more as a warning to my neighbors who drive this road to beware. A black bull- just like the black horse {which I also finally called on several days after she had been running loose- no animal should get hit by a car because of stupidΒ  negligent owners, imo}- at night, is a road hazard.

I had forgotten one of the aunts {sister to the mother who was nasty; aunt to the girl who the parents considered responsible for the horses} was on my FB friend’s list and not blocked like the others. And wow. First I was told to mind my own business. Then I was told I was being “unneighborly” and a whole host of other things. This after the father {horses} came to my house to threaten us and tell us to “stay off my land” which still makes no sense. He was a bit thrown off by the dogs and my 6 ft, well-muscled husband, who handled that quite marvelously. So, the aunt and I went back and forth a bit, and still, the bull remained out. I wonder if they realize that FB uses dates…… and of course, my phone date stamps, too. It took the uncle {great uncle to the girl?} 3 days before he even meandered over here to look and see if the bull was in or not.

In the past week, I have had the sheriff’s department out 4 times and have had 6 deputies. Today was the first repeat officer, though.

I’ve called several times on that darn bull. 2 weeks ago, not all of my trash got emptied because the bull was right there. So, the county has that documented. Because the third of those people’s horse was in the bull pen, the animal control officer doing the case has been aware of that part of the situation, including the one’s escape before the gelding was added to the pen.

Animal control officer told me to call the sheriff after hours, so they could come and document the bull was out. So that’s what I’ve been doing. The bull gets near the road where they can see- I call.Β  The bull gets on my property- I call. Last week, the young bull and heifer were walking down the middle of the road. So I called- 2 deputies came and saw them out. One went to go tell the one guy to put his cows away.

In the meantime, our friend, D, came and had to go around them in the road, so he came back and we helped him put them away. The following night, when we were grilling, my brother came in and said the bull was in our side pasture. I wanted to get a picture to document for the sheriff; he got his car lights on him, which then agitated the bull. I got in my truck, shined my brights on him, and essentially pushed him back over into the field adjacent to the bull pen. After I called the sheriff. So, that was the first meeting for the deputy that came again today {deputy #3}. One of his first comments that night was, “I’m so sick and tired of putting “X’s” cows away. He needs to keep his damn animals penned.”

Why, yes, yes he does.

Later that night, after we had already gotten the two put away, the horse part of the family came to help put the bull away, toddler in tow. They let the horses out, which promptly came over into my hay field and began to eat. Obviously, I didn’t call then, and they did get the horses put back.

Sunday, the horses got out and came to visit my horses. They knocked part of my fence loose, and ran all the way down to the end of the road, to the state highway. I called the sheriff. I know you are shocked by that. I mean, I guess I figure if I’ve been accused of having the sheriff on “speed dial,” I might as well earn it, right? πŸ˜†

While I was on the phone, negligent cow person X came by the bull pen, and then drove all through my fields and yard, yelling at me to “Get me a rope!”

Um, excuse me? You come to put your animals away (they are in his bull pen, of course, and he is leasing the pasture) and you expect me to give you one of my lead ropes? Get your own dang rope.

Fortunately, about that time, two deputies come speeding up at the end of the driveway. Had their timing been any later, I kid you not, I would most likely be in the hospital; maybe even dead. Because at that moment, as they were getting out of their cars, some guy in a tractor comes barreling through the hay field, jumps out of the tractor and comes yelling at me about calling the sheriff every time his animals get out, and waving his fists. The one deputy went and physically pushed him back {they couldn’t arrest him because he hadn’t gotten his hands on me} while the even larger deputy took us and we stood along side of him, standing with his arms crossed.

The one deputy asked me who the hostile belligerent dude was, and I told him I had no idea. I really don’t. I have no idea who that guy is. Is it guy Y, guy Xs son, who came in my paddock to mount his fence charger and left my gates open while doing so, to have me come screaming out of my house, “What are you doing?! Close the gate!” and then who proceeded to tell me my driveway and all of that area was public property and he should know because he used to work for the county? {To which I replied, “Ah, no it’s not. That is my private property, according to my lawyer. I don’t care if you go in to plug in your charger, but did it never occur to you to knock on my door and ask or otherwise let me know you needed in there?” “I didn’t know anyone was home.” “Really? You couldn’t see my big white truck parked right in front of you?”πŸ™„} Or is it some other crazy member of that family? I really don’t know.

At some point, they followed the three guys (guy X had another guy with him) back across the street, where they proceeded to eventually collect the horses and put them back in. Now, Cooper the bull {as in, D.B. Cooper πŸ˜† } was still at large, which I confirmed later that night.

I heard two of my dogs frantically barking, and Oreo was herding something that wasn’t cooperating. I could see her trying to move it away from the house, but whatever it was, was not cooperating. Then I saw the tree in the driveway median shaking, and I figured they had treed a coon or something, until the bull moved INTO the yard; past the closer leg of the driveway, and settled in at the bottom of the porch steps. I was seriously afraid he was going to come up the steps!

I yelled at the girls to get the dogs brought in, and I went to get my good friend, Smithy Wesson. Smithy is a .38 special, and the last time I brought him out was when there was a guy parked at the end of the road for hours in the wee early hours of the morning started walking up my driveway. Turns out, he was coming to see the guy who used to live here- and hasn’t for a year and a half. Once he saw Smithy, though, and Oreo, the ninja snappy dog, he slowly backed out of the driveway.

So, with Smithy out, and my girls yelling not to kill the bull {which I can do, legally, if anything on my property threatens my person or my livestock, etc}, I cracked off a round in his general direction. It was pitch black at that point, and my flood lights don’t reach that far, but because I couldn’t see a carcass, he obviously moved off.

Yesterday, I thought they had finally moved all the animals, because not a one was left in the bull pen. They did move the horse back to Death Row, as we call it, but the cows were gone. As it turns out, they left the fence open, thinking maybe the Cooper would willingly go back in and join Bonnie and Clyde.

Do I even need to tell you what happened? banghead

Well, then, boys and girls, let’s all say the answer together: “The cows got out.”

Yes, indeed. Bonnie and Clyde got out and joined Cooper on his grand adventure.

This resulted in them getting about a mile down the side road, next to the interstate that the bridge on that road goes over.Β  And pretty close to where friend D lives, who was *furious,* after having put them away already once in the last week. I was visiting a neighbor when he called, but when I got home, he was over across the street with guy X, giving him a piece of his mind. My oldest heard a few choice snips of the conversation, but D reiterated that Cooper had been out for a month, which of course, guy X refuses to believe. Guy X accused me of tampering with his fence charger.

Oh yes, that’s me, all right. πŸ™„ I’m gonna turn off his electric fence so I can deal with his bull crashing around my property and preventing my trash from getting picked up. That’s right, I have no problem with his bull trampling my dogs and threatening my girls and myself. πŸ™„ {and just to clarify in the event you aren’t quite sure, that is complete sarcasm. He needs to keep his animals penned up.}

And that brings us to this afternoon. Let me tell you something I’m pretty sure they have figured out and thought they could use to their advantage- Hunny is currently away for work. {He’s ready to bail me out, though.}Β  I am pretty sure they thought they could come over and confront and intimidate me.

Did I mention I have a good friend, Smithy Wesson? Before I went down to talk to guy X, I got him on my hip. Apparently, guy X has three dogs, all of which were with him, and his German Shepherd had tangled with my older border collie, who sent him cowering. Here are the high points of the conversation:

He said some lady called on the horses and cows being out today.

“Nope, not me today. I haven’t called today. I called Sunday, though, when the horses were out.”

He said I needed to stop calling.

“Nope. I am going to call every single time I see them out.” And I explained my reasons why. “Keep your animals penned, and I won’t need to call.”

Then he tried to tell me I didn’t own any land, and I told him, “Oh hell yes, I do. You better check the county register. I own close to 4 acres of this land, including part of that pasture, and the hay field,Β  and this, and this, and this, and this. And even if I didn’t, I still live here, and what’s happening with the rest of the acreage is between me and T. You have no say in any of that, and it’s none of your business.”

Then he said the bull hadn’t been out long; and of course, I set the record straight and let him know that the sheriff’s deputies had seen my documentation.

Then he said the situation was all my fault because I said a few cuss words- nevermind that he said all of them first, or that friend D had said the exact same things to him last night. But oh yes, my language is why his animals were out. πŸ™„ And he tried telling me I turned his fence off- “Yeah, right. You think I don’t want my trash picked up? Or that I want to deal with large animals running loose? That is just nuts.”

When he said that bull had never come on my side of the road, I replied, “How would you know? You’re never around. Do you want to see my pictures? The deputies have.”

“And I’ll tell you- I’ve been told repeatedly by all of them and by Animal Control that I am well within my legal rights to shoot any of them, if they are on my property and I feel threatened. You had better believe I will shoot them, because I will. I will drop that bull if he’s over here. Enough is enough.”

Pay attention, kids, because his response right here is why I’m going to magistrate court in the morning.

He replied, “If you drop him, I’ll drop you.”

“Wait- did you just say you were going to shoot me if I shot your bull on my property?!”

“Uh huh. You’re the one walking around with a gun on your hip.”

“You’re darn right I am! I’ve 2 bulls and a heifer running around loose, chasing my dogs and crashing around my property! I have every right to defend myself, and I am SURELY going to. “

There was a little more back and forth, but it wasn’t much before I told him to get off my property. Then I called the sheriff’s office again {you know, the whole threatening to shoot me bit} and animal control. I was on the phone with animal control when officer #3 came back again. I apprised him of the situation and got his suggestion to go to magistrate court for a restraining order.

I’m pretty sure that family thinks I am looney tunes, and I am fine with that. Maybe they’ll think I’m so darn crazy they’ll finally get the bulls and heifer put away. Ya think??

As you can see, the gene pool on this family is something else. When they called the sheriff a few months ago to report “6 horses on the highway,” the deputy grandson of our dear friends on the corner, who also just happens to live across said two-lane state highway, came by on his way home, because we were the only ones around there that he knew of that had that many horses. And you know what? I was appreciative.

No, my horses weren’t out. They had been, about 2 hours prior, standing in the driveway and eating the grass in the yard. For a total of a whopping 15 minutes. The hurricane force gusts had blown over a section of fencing, which we propped back up and put them back in.

And still, I was appreciative that they came to check. I mean, if your animals were out, wouldn’t you want to know? By the time he got there, it was getting dark. I was still outside, finishing with chickens, but we went and counted heads. He could see all the horses contentedly eating hay, right by the fence.

I cannot get my mind around their particular mindset. I just can’t. D told them that he drives that way to get home, and guy X told him to go around- find another way home. What the heck?! Guy X has starving and escaping cows in a 3 county area, and clearly, the counties are not talking to each other, because if they were, he’d have numerous felonies pending. This has been such an ongoing and continuous problem for so many years, that it seems likes folks have given up on calling, because it doesn’t change anything.

But shoot. I guess since I have the sheriff’s office on speed dial, I might as well use my finger to push that button if I see their animals out after hours.

I think I may title this drama, “As the Silo Turns.” And to think- someone actually accused me a few weeks ago of being bored because I’m on a farm {in regards to some comments I made in a FB group, of course, lol}. πŸ˜†

And now, boys and girls, you are all caught up. Stay tuned, because I’m sure there will be more, unfortunately. *sigh*



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{snort} NOT!

Have you ever been so busy that you look down and when you look up, a few months have gone by? That seems to be part and parcel of my life these days. While there’s non-stop activity, there are things that are actually getting done.

Coop #4 has been moved into, I’m glad to say. While we still have some modifications to make to get more ventilation, chickens and guineas have been moved over for a while now. In the event you ever move chickens and/or guineas, don’t get discouraged. It took 4 days for all of them to put themselves to bed, which was pretty good, considering. {Considering, as in, guineas do not like change, so that they actually did it at all is a major win in my book!}

This meant tearing down the original coop, which Hunny wasn’t happy with. His initial design was basically what we had before, just the grande-wrap-around-horseshoe version of it. Because of the size and time involved, it rained before it was complete. Ya, I know.Β  It seemed like the never-ending battle to get done, and thus its name, The Coop That Would Not Be Built, was dubbed. I was not sad to see the old one go, honestly.

One of these days, I’ll get around to posting old coop and new coop info. There’s so much to catch you up on, it’s almost overwhelming. I vow {energy willing} to start updating on a more regular basis. I just need to sit down and do it.

Much of my day revolves around collecting eggs. Because we free-range 100% of daytime hours, that always means I am out hunting for eggs. While most of the girls have figured out that the nesting boxes are the best place to lay, I do have a few rogues in the bunch.

Just last night, I crawled under the shed {and it’s LONG!} and finally found the pile of eggs the dogs had been eating. What was left were 26 eggs. *sigh*

When the house well froze during the polar vortex and Hunny had to thaw it and then insulate it, I found a stash of really nasty rotten eggs. Β vomit I counted about 8 that hadn’t been eaten by wee little dog. I don’t think they were all bad, just the ones at the bottom.

Earlier today, I found a small stash of 4 eggs, which could have all been laid today. With reduced laying during the shorter winter days, I’m getting about 2 dozen eggs a day…………

Here are some of the more interesting stashes I’ve found:

Pile of fencing posts that I had to move around to even reach the eggs.






These are the small well-house eggs.



And, my personal favorite, the barn eggs.



These were laid by one of my girlies who likes to lay up high- she’s even dropped an egg from the rafters in the guinea section of the coop! There’s another one of that breed that likes to lay under a tarp in the hay shelter. πŸ˜†

Either way, while I don’t necessarily mind the egg hunt, it is a total time sucker. And, lest you think chickens are totally stupid, it never fails: just when I find the nest, they move it. They realize that something has found it, so it’s time to move so they don’t get eaten. Pretty smart!

In the next installment of the “Crazy Chickens Saga,” I’ll tell you about one of my chickens who’s broody. We found her sitting on a clutch of 20+ eggs way up top of the hay loft. We did manage to move her, eggs and all, down to the nesting boxes, without losing any arms or fingers. She’s definitely the meanest broody I’ve ever had! {She’s so mean, she’s still sitting on those eggs because I didn’t think it was safe for US to try to get them out, lol.}

So. That’s what I’ve been up to. While I’ve had to deal with wacko folks because of the polar vortex, painting all kinds of things outside, and trying to stay sane, I have not, in fact, fallen off the face of the earth. πŸ˜€

What’s going on in your world?

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I think I mentioned it before, but when you live on a farm, there are never-ending things to do, even if you aren’t actually farming. πŸ˜‰

You may recall that when we moved, we ended up with 5 abandoned horses in our front yard. A few months later, we did the horsey shuffle. It actually was remarkably like the Hokey Pokey, but with horses. At the end of the day, no one had gotten really injured and we all still had our teeth, so that was a win. πŸ˜† And our roster was set.

Around Thanksgiving, our kitty went missing. We later discovered her deceased. 😦 When her brother had to be put down for intestinal cancer, we had gotten Little Dog. As luck would have it, a short-haired border collie became available from a gentleman who used them with his cattle and had gotten a large amount from a breeder/trainer friend of his who decided he was too old and passed on his border collie ‘stock.’ Anyhow. Puppy was the runt of the litter and he felt would be too small to handle the cattle, so he was trying to find her a good home. We got her the next day.

Christmas rolled around, and we were still missing having a cat. I don’t think in the last 20+ years we’ve gone very long without some kind of cat. We like our kittens in pairs. Then chicken math hit, and we got three babies from the same litter. {Actually, I have a whole category on Chicken Math………… :lol:} That’s how we ended up with Los Tres Amigos.

At some point, we had a lovely orange kitty come and visit us for several months. He’s actually been over at our horse trainer‘s house for the last several weeks. I wonder if he got tired of the dogs barking at him. We hope he comes back because we miss him………

Then we got the bantams and I ordered my large fowl and guineas. πŸ˜€

Two weeks ago, my newly “adopted” 19 year-old daughter/neighbor came by on her way home from the vet’s office where she worked. Someone had dumped off a litter of 4 kittens to be put down. Well, there was no way she was going to let that happen! So she took them home. Seeing as the little girls were outside, she thought she’d stop and show them the babies.

When she left a while later, she had one kitten with her. πŸ˜† We kept the other 3 3-week-old kitties. So, we’ve been busy bottle feeding, ect. I had no idea that when they are that little, you need to stimulate them to go to the bathroom. 😯

Because the other kitties became solely indoor kitties, we are thinking these will be our barn kitties. I’ve got some great pics in with the other kitties and today in with the chicks. Hilarious!

This morning, the post office called at 6:15 am to let me know my chickiesΒ were here. I was back home around 7 am with all live chickies!!! β™₯β™₯β™₯

{And you wonder why I’m not writing much…………….Β  :lol:}

We’re missing guineas, which will come next month.

Don’t laugh or roll your eyes, but here’s what we have right now:

3 dogs

5 horses

6.5 cats

14 bantams

40 large fowl

4 kids

2 completely crazy parents; {one obviously more crazy than the other πŸ˜‰ }

And a partridge in a pear tree. {No, not really, silly- not yet, anyhow. πŸ˜‰ } πŸ˜†

Because y’all have been so patient with me, here are some pictures. I’ve added a category for Around the Farm stuff, which will probably end up being mostly pictures. You’ve been warned! πŸ˜€











Spawn of Herman?

Spawn of Herman?

Go Navy!

Go Navy!

Creepy quiet those are- didn't bother the horses and the dogs never even barked!

Creepy quiet those are- didn’t bother the horses and the dogs never even barked!

Fog rolls in an hovers over the fields.

Fog rolls in and hovers over the fields.





How many horses do you see?

How many horses do you see?

From the balcony off the bedroom.

From the balcony off the bedroom.





Finally enough weight to be ridden!

Finally enough weight to be ridden!

My girl. β™₯

My girl. β™₯




So there you have it- a taste of 6 months on the farm! πŸ˜€

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