Fw: Farm thoughts

The rough draft from yesterday turned out to be rougher than I thought.  Whole sections repeated themselves and made it very confusing.  Here is the better version (although still a "rough" draft) Photo:  The farmhouse waits to be rediscovered 2 1/2 years ago.... This is a rough draft of what I thought of this morning and wanted to get all the loose ends down on "paper".  Another stream-of-consciousness writing assignment, so it might not make much sense, and is pretty long.....but I think everything is worth saying, whether I'm the only one to read it or not!  ;) I was thinking about how the "spark" of wanting to live on a farm was rekindled a few years ago as I filtered the milk this morning.  I always loved the idea of living in the country, having lots of animals, that sort of thing.  Milking a cow or gathering eggs might have been a small fleeting thought at some point in my childhood, but it didn't figure into the dream as much as owning a horse or galloping across a pasture on that horse.  I do remember one elementary-school field trip to Williamsburg when our class watched a sheep being sheared, and the little greasy fluff of wool that I treasured for years afterwards, but cows and chickens?  Probably not..... Ten years ago, I was pretty firmly entrenched in being the suburban mom who keeps everyone else's schedules going, and was getting burned out pretty quickly.  By the time Michael was born (3rd child) I felt like I'd lost my ability to mentally keep track of everything and the talent of multitasking went right out the window.  By the time Jeremy was born 6 years later, I was having real trouble keeping up with things and suburban life just wasn't satisfying, there was no space in our yard for a new garden venture, the gardens that existed were pretty but were needing more care than I had energy for.....in short, I was not doing a very good job at being mom, taxi driver, chef, home-work helper....  Mothering or being a good wife or trusted volunteer all seemed like areas that I was failing miserably at, and some days I didn't even have the energy to try anymore.  I was going to counseling.  I was on antidepressants.  The small voice in my head still told me that I was not living up to expectations and how could I hold my head high in confidence when I was so inept at what I was supposed to be doing? A small blurb in the church bulletin described a women's hiking retreat to Shenandoah National Park with a mom that I knew from Christopher's class at Immanuel.  If it had been someone I didn't know leading the trip, it would have never caught my attention in the way that it did.  This seemed like a lifeline in the middle of what had become a rather bleak point in my life (at least from my perspective back then!). I prayed about it, and presented it to Jeff after talking with Carol, the leader.  Jeff agreed to let me go, and paid the cost (not cheap, but totally worth it). I went in May, ending the nursing of our last child in order to go.  (In fairness, it was time. Not like I left a 3 week old baby to suddenly adjust to formula!)  But, that was a milestone in my life that I hadn't wanted to reach, because now there would be no more babies to nurse….. The company of the ladies was just what I needed, and I rediscovered who I was and how I fit into God's creation (sounds cheesy, but I'd unknowingly lost myself in the day-to-day and minute-to-minute job of caring for everyone around me.) Surprise!  I had fun, I pointed things out that the others were thrilled to see, I felt free to share my own unique personality and also my faith in the safety of that circle.  I "experienced God" in a way that I'd never known Him before in the company of those women.  The company of those women was so much more than just a week of hiking:  praying together, sharing life experiences, enjoying life away from the demands of "home" for all of us.  Just invigorating in every sense of the word.  That trip was followed by a scouting trip in July (camping with Carol, checking out trails that could potentially be used in future retreats....)  Again, I discovered that I was much more than the tired Mom that had run herself ragged to keep everyone happy back home.  I rediscovered so many things that had thrilled me as a child:  Tent caterpillars and their soft furry feel, acorns and beechnuts on the ground, salamanders creeping across the trail…..hiking through Virginia woods seemed somehow familiar.  And that type of woods WAS familiar:  We lived in Ft. Belvoir when I was 5, and our military housing backed up to woods.  As a young kid, we found those same kinds of caterpillars, as well as Luna moths, Indian arrowheads, and all kinds of other exciting things, and explored as far as we were allowed to go in the woods behind our house. Other trips followed, and Carol saw in me some leadership qualities that I never would have thought were there.  The other ladies on other trips encouraged me in the role of leader-in-training, and I learned all that I could from Carol, anticipating the retreat when I would actually lead.  Imagine that!--me, a leader and not just a follower.  What an adventure! A few years after that first trip, I was excited to organize and lead a retreat on my own.  God led me through the devotion writing, choosing popular hymns and songs to coordinate with daily lessons, planning the trails and lodging we'd be using.  I had some interested women, friends and family, but their life-stages weren't right for a retreat and one by one they regretfully had to tell me that they could not go.  God gave me no indication that I should cancel the whole thing.  The conviction that this is what He had for me to do never left.  It finally came down to me and one friend--Jane. We knew that our husbands were nervous about the two of us going, so we invited them to come along.  It became a 2 couple retreat, and we diligently followed the plans and devotions as a run-through for a future retreat.  That future retreat never materialized, but the time with Myles and Jane was absolutely wonderful.  A blessing from God, for sure! During that trip, we met two motorcycle riders, a husband and wife (and their crazed little cycle-riding chihuahua), and that's where the farm idea started forming in my head.  These two lived on a farm in the valley and rode up to the park when they were able to.  Jeff and I thought that was a wonderful compromise--live near a state park, own a farm after raising our kids, have the best of all worlds.....  A spark started in my mind about farming.   (That's where this whole dialogue was leading.) Since those trips, I've heard a number of times the same message.  Not sure I can put it into words that pull all the thoughts together, but here goes:  As you become immersed in adulthood, you can lose sight of the things that brought you joy as a kid.  But...some of those joyful experiences give you a clue as to what God has in mind for your life, or clues to what God has given you as gifts to cherish.  You can rediscover child-like wonder in the things around you, especially if you've come to a place in your life where nothing seems to lift your spirits.  The things that spoke the most about who you WERE as a kid (for me: finding a fat toad under a mossy rock, or digging up an arrowhead after a heavy rain, or hiking when the leaves are shimmering with dew in the early morning) still speak the most about who you ARE now.  Those things get buried in the day-to-day drudgery of adult life if you forget the childhood wonder that you've left behind.  For me, finding a bright green tree frog out here on the farm and sharing it with my kids is an exciting thing--I used to do that with Chris and Carrie when they were little.  We set up stinky tanks of pond water in the house to raise polliwogs.  We went to the park to just play.  We walked the neighborhood and picked up red leaves to press between sheets of wax paper. We grew dill in the garden and picked the caterpillars off the plants to raise in a jar, just for the wonder of watching the tiger swallowtail butterfly hatch and then be set free.  I had lost some of that joy as baby #3 was born, as the schedules got more difficult to physically keep up with, as baby # 4 was born, as nap-time for baby or toddler became drive-the-siblings-to-practice time.....   The hiking retreats brought back my life-long fascination with nature, my love of the outdoors, the way all of creation could turn my thoughts into thanksgiving to God for making everything so beautiful and wonderful, and also set the spark in my thought-process about a farm….maybe in the shadow of Shenandoah National Park. That was probably phase one of the journey to becoming a hobby farmer--an idea that was there long before, but never truly seen as a possibility. Phase 2 would have been this: Hearing various friend talk about childhood life on a farm and what they missed (or didn't miss!) Going to church with my parents in western Wisconsin and seeing farmers as real people Visiting my sister Paula and her husband and kids in Tennessee, and seeing their self-sufficiency and the joy in their lives as they worked together to provide for themselves and for the people around them. Driving south to Atlanta or north to Wisconsin and having Jeff tell me to pick my chin up off the floor or stop "rubber-necking" (I was gaping at farmhouses and barns and animals out in the fields…..) Hearing about how my cousin Sarah was farming in Michigan, raising chickens, selling eggs, growing produce for her own family and for a small CSA (community supported agriculture) that she set up.  (I was a jealous, truth be told!) Having a wonderful harvest of peaches from one of the trees in our Palatine yard, and freezing them and making jam….. Joining a CSA that delivered a box full of their own farm-grown produce every week for 30 weeks out of the year, and hanging on every word of their newsletters Thinking that our own life could encompass so much more than sports practices and games, the seemingly endless and energy-draining  fundraisers and activities for school and church, the maintaining of gardens of pretty flowers rather than vegetables and fruit trees….. The chicks which became our first "livestock" in a decidedly non-livestock-friendly town. Then came the gift card to a book store, and Jeremy chose one book and I stood in front of the self-sufficiency row and couldn't decide which one to buy.  My choice was Carla Emery's "The Encyclopedia of Country Living", and if my attention wasn't firmly heading in the direction of "FARM", it sure was after reading just the chicken-chapter of that book.  It sparked Jeff's imagination too, just a little, when I gave him no choice but to listen to me read word-for-word different sections of that book.  Whatever the "phases", here we are.  Like when I was in training for leading retreats, I have no doubt that we are here because God orchestrated it.  I would love to think that we'll spend the rest of our lives here, but already there are things (like new county ordinances) that are putting that assumption into question.  But here are the things that I love about this place, both the physical "place" and the "place" that I find myself in at this point in my life: Learning every day, whether I really want to or not Being out in the fresh air, whether it's comfortable weather or extreme cold or heat Having a routine that includes lots of animals Milking a cow every day, rain or snow or shine, and having her and her lovely calf become more and more calm as we learn to work with each other Discovering that I'm tougher and more capable than I ever would have thought (Lift a 50 pound bag of feed?  No problem!) Growing a small percent of what we eat as a family (at this point, it's eggs and milk and chicken meat, not much more) Living in an area where I can run to the store and not worry about not having put make-up on my face or changed out of dingy clothes. The friendliness and genuine caring spirit of the people we meet:  Feedstore owners become friend s who share advice and produce, co-op customers become sources for other healthy produce or meat options, hay farmers become not just feed sources but connections by which other connections are made, people go out of their way to be helpful or even give up hours or days to "help", just for the sake of helping (and we can do the same).  The sense of community, even when we don't know all of our neighbors and haven't lived all of our lives in this community (going to the general store for an ice cream or other treat, each and every time we've had a friendly conversation with just about every other customer in the store).   I am happy here.  It brings joy to my life—the one hundred-plus chickens, the cows who now trot right over for a treat, the dogs who run circles for an hour every morning in the pasture, even the rats or predators that we need to outwit.  Being here reminds me in so many ways of childhood joys and of who God created me to be, at least in my limited understanding of that creation.  I will praise Him for this time that we're here and even when this particular opportunity comes to an end. And in some ways, I'm sure the time here will bring out other qualities that I never expected to see in myself or in my husband or kids, and those God-given qualities will pave the way or teach us skills that we'll need for the next "phase" of our lives. Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/

Pasture play-time

Photo:  Ruby and mama (over a month ago) Funny story from this morning: I've kept the dogs out of the cow pen and watched very carefully when the cows are in the pasture and the dogs interact with them.  Rocky is always on a leash when I let him get close to Ruby (she's still a bit too coy and curious, and tends to bat her eyes at Rocky and dare him to chase her.  Rocky is willing to give chase at the drop of a hat, and will unintentionally switch from "chasing" to "hunting" as he tries to corner her.)  The photo above is to show Ruby's size the last time Rocky had the chance to chase her.  She was big then, but now she stands much taller, and has a bit of a chance against him. This morning, the temperature was above freezing, which meant that I needed to haul multiple wheelbarrows-full of manure-straw litter from the cow pen out into the pasture.  I'm dumping it along the branch-line of the white pine stands, where the needles have formed a thick brown mat on the ground and are choking out the grass.  The manure idea is that--winter snow and spring rains will wash the manure into the grass, chickens and ducks and geese will help to spread and aerate the rained-on manure, the good qualities of the spread-out manure and straw as they decompose in the spring will counteract the acidity of the pine needles, and pasture grass might have a chance.  We need all the pasture grass that we can get! By the 4th wheelbarrow-trip, I got tired of closing the cow gate behind me to keep the dogs out, and let Ruby follow me out into the pasture.  Shadow came and sniffed noses nicely with her.  (I HAVE been encouraging Shadow to "bring her home" in the evenings when it's just me, Shadow and Ruby out in the field.  Shadow gets the idea, and knows that she is allowed to run after Ruby at that point.  What Shadow doesn't know is that, with Bessie already in the cow pen, the praise I shower on Shadow is false.  Ruby would dash to wherever mama is.) Rocky was distracted from seeing Ruby trot out, busy watching to see if the mouse that Sly was after would dash into the fenced area where he could get it instead. As soon as Rocky saw Ruby, he was off like a shot, wolf-eyes gleaming with mischief as he tore after her.  She saw him coming, kicked into the air and took off, full speed, dodging around and trying to lose him or get in a lucky kick on a tight turn.  Shadow can't resist a chase, so she joined in and Ruby was panicking just a little. Watchful mama Bessie hadn't come out of the cow pen yet, and was on instant alert:  she perked up her ears and ran back and forth inside the cow-fencing in consternation for her baby's safety.  She galloped out the gate with the intent to get down to business (protecting her innocent little child) and then stopped dead in her tracks and gave me a direct look.  I was standing still with the big black wheelbarrow, the dogs and Ruby were flying around the pasture, and Bessie just stood there looking at me, ears swiveled in my direction, eye-contact, no other movement, waiting...... I said "Well, go and teach them a LESSON!"  With that, Bessie immediately tossed her head, took stock of where the pesky dogs were torturing her baby, gave a bucking bronco kick (legs kick off to one side, udder swings to the other), and tore off.  Her timing was perfect--as if she had been truly waiting for permission to go and wreak havoc. If I'd been one of the dogs, I would have run for my life.  I could almost imagine Bessie's eyes turning blood-red and steam snorting out of her nose as she bore down on them. Ruby was running circles and then hiding behind her mama, batting her long eyelashes in defiance at the dogs.  Bessie was circling, trying to shield her little lamb from the big bad wolves.  Rocky was circling and laughing, trying to get in little nips here and there to incite the situation further.  Shadow was keeping her distance but ready to chase at the first opportunity.  Bessie was not swerving from her near-murderous idea of taking those play-ground bullies to task. I was regretting my decision to encourage her to pound on the dogs, when I noticed that all 4 creatures seemed have changed tactics and were now frolicking together more than battling.  Rocky was no longer doing the chasing, but was joyfully tearing around the yard with Ruby running after him.  Shadow was circling and running but chasing no-one in particular.  Bessie was trotting and turning along with Ruby, ever watchful but having a little fun.  (The clue that it was play?  That Rocky was leading the charge and encouraging everyone to chase him, rather than acting like a wolf that's looking to take down his next kill.) It didn't last very long, as Ruby started coughing and needed to dash over for a drink of water.  Rocky got there first, and he and Ruby drank from the same trough for a little while, just until Bessie ambled over.  At that point, she decided that she WOULD teach Rocky a lesson, thank-you-very-much, and cornered him in the milking stanchion, nearly snorting steam.  Her eyes took on a rather mean glint that meant "business".  He looked like he was only sort-of enjoying the challenge, but she wouldn't back down and he snapped at her nose in fear a couple of times before I called him away. The whole thing was humorous, and I must have been laughing out loud as it played out.  The second best part?  Rocky is stretched out, totally exhausted, sleeping soundly in the sun, giving me time to type this without worrying about whether a free-ranging chicken will become a morning snack for him! The best part?  Bessie stopping in her tracks to look at me, seeming to ask if she could do what she's been wanting to do for a long time now, nodding her head as I "gave" her permission, and taking off at full speed with that little buck and kick and swinging udder!  ;) Have a good weekend, everyone! Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/

Farm thoughts

Photo:  The farmhouse waits to be rediscovered 2 1/2 years ago.... This is a rough draft of what I thought of this morning and wanted to get all the loose ends down on "paper".  Another stream-of-consciousness writing assignment, so it might not make much sense, and is pretty long.....but I think everything is worth saying, whether I'm the only one to read it or not!  ;) I was thinking about how the "spark" of wanting to live on a farm was rekindled a few years ago as I filtered the milk this morning.  I always loved the idea of living in the country, having lots of animals, that sort of thing.  Milking a cow or gathering eggs might have been a small fleeting thought at some point in my childhood, but it didn't figure into the dream as much as owning a horse or galloping across a pasture on that horse.  I do remember one elementary-school field trip to Williamsburg when our class watched a sheep being sheared, and the little greasy fluff of wool that I treasured for years afterwards, but cows and chickens?  Probably not..... Ten years ago, I was pretty firmly entrenched in being the suburban mom who keeps everyone else's schedules going, and was getting burned out pretty quickly.  By the time Michael was born (3rd child) I felt like I'd lost my ability to mentally keep track of everything and the talent of multitasking went right out the window.  By the time Jeremy was born 6 years later, I was having real trouble keeping up with things and suburban life just wasn't satisfying, there was no space in our yard for a new garden venture, the gardens that existed were pretty but were needing more care than I had energy for.....in short, I was not doing a very good job at being mom, taxi driver, chef, home-work helper....  Mothering or being a good wife or trusted volunteer all seemed like areas that I was failing miserably at, and some days I didn't even have the energy to try anymore.  I was going to counseling.  I was on antidepressants.  The small voice in my head still told me that I was not living up to expectations and how could I hold my head high in confidence when I was so inept at what I was supposed to be doing? A small blurb in the church bulletin described a women's hiking retreat to Shenandoah National Park with a mom that I knew from Christopher's class at Immanuel.  If it had been someone I didn't know leading the trip, it would have never caught my attention in the way that it did.  This seemed like a lifeline in the middle of what had become a rather bleak point in my life (at least from my perspective back then!). I prayed about it, and presented it to Jeff after talking with Carol, the leader.  Jeff agreed to let me go, and paid the cost (not cheap, but totally worth it). I went in May, ending the nursing of our last child in order to go.  (In fairness, it was time. Not like I left a 3 week old baby to suddenly adjust to formula!)  But, that was a milestone in my life that I hadn't wanted to reach, because now there would be no more babies to nurse….. The company of the ladies was just what I needed, and I rediscovered who I was and how I fit into God's creation (sounds cheesy, but I'd unknowingly lost myself in the day-to-day and minute-to-minute job of caring for everyone around me.) Surprise!  I had fun, I pointed things out that the others were thrilled to see, I felt free to share my own unique personality and also my faith in the safety of that circle.  I "experienced God" in a way that I'd never known Him before in the company of those women.  The company of those women was so much more than just a week of hiking:  praying together, sharing life experiences, enjoying life away from the demands of "home" for all of us.  Just invigorating in every sense of the word.  That trip was followed by a scouting trip in July (camping with Carol, checking out trails that could potentially be used in future retreats....)  Again, I discovered that I was much more than the tired Mom that had run herself ragged to keep everyone happy back home.  I rediscovered so many things that had thrilled me as a child:  Tent caterpillars and their soft furry feel, acorns and beechnuts on the ground, salamanders creeping across the trail…..hiking through Virginia woods seemed somehow familiar.  And that type of woods WAS familiar:  We lived in Ft. Belvoir when I was 5, and our military housing backed up to woods.  As a young kid, we found those same kinds of caterpillars, as well as Luna moths, Indian arrowheads, and all kinds of other exciting things, and explored as far as we were allowed to go in the woods behind our house. Other trips followed, and Carol saw in me some leadership qualities that I never would have thought were there.  The other ladies on other trips encouraged me in the role of leader-in-training, and I learned all that I could from Carol, anticipating the retreat when I would actually lead.  Imagine that!--me, a leader and not just a follower.  What an adventure!   Since those trips, I've heard a number of times the same message.  Not sure I can put it into words that pull all the thoughts together, but here goes:  As you become immersed in adulthood, you can lose sight of the things that brought you joy as a kid.  But...some of those joyful experiences give you a clue as to what God has in mind for your life, or clues to what God has given you as gifts to cherish.  You can rediscover child-like wonder in the things around you, especially if you've come to a place in your life where nothing seems to lift your spirits.  The things that spoke the most about who you WERE as a kid (for me: finding a fat toad under a mossy rock, or digging up an arrowhead after a heavy rain, or hiking when the leaves are shimmering with dew in the early morning) still speak the most about who you ARE now.  Those things get buried in the day-to-day drudgery of adult life if you forget the childhood wonder that you've left behind.  For me, finding a bright green tree frog out here on the farm and sharing it with my kids is an exciting thing--I used to do that with Chris and Carrie when they were little.  We set up stinky tanks of pond water in the house to raise polliwogs.  We went to the park to just play.  We walked the neighborhood and picked up red leaves to press between sheets of wax paper. We grew dill in the garden and picked the caterpillars off the plants to raise in a jar, just for the wonder of watching the tiger swallowtail butterfly hatch and then be set free. The hiking retreats brought back my life-long fascination with nature, my love of the outdoors, the way all of creation could turn my thoughts into thanksgiving to God for making everything so beautiful and wonderful. I was thinking about how the "spark" of wanting to live on a farm was rekindled a few years ago.  I always loved the idea of living in the country, having lots of animals, that sort of thing.  Milking a cow or gathering eggs might have been a small fleeting thought at some point in my childhood, but it didn't figure into the dream as much as owning a horse or galloping across a pasture on that horse. I was pretty firmly entrenched in being the suburban mom who keeps everyone else's schedules going, and was getting burned out pretty quickly.  When Michael was born (3rd child) I felt like I'd lost my ability to mentally keep track of everything and the talent of multitasking went right out the window.  By the time Jeremy was born 6 years later, I was having real trouble keeping up with things and suburban life just wasn't satisfying, there was no space in our yard for a new garden venture, the gardens that existed were pretty but were needing more care than I had energy for.....in short, I was not doing a very good job at being mom, taxi driver, chef, home-work helper....  Mothering or being a good wife or trusted volunteer all seemed like areas that I was failing miserably at, and some days I didn't even have the energy to try anymore.  I was going to counseling.  I was on antidepressants.  The small voice in my head still told me that I was not living up to expectations. A small blurb in the church bulletin described a women's hiking retreat to Shenandoah National Park with a mom that I knew from Christopher's class at Immanuel.  If it had been someone I didn't know leading the trip, it would have never caught my attention in the way that it did.  This seemed like a lifeline in the middle of what had become a rather bleak life (at least from my perspective back then!). I prayed about it, and presented it to Jeff after talking with Carol, the leader.  Jeff agreed to let me go, and paid the cost (not cheap, but totally worth it). I went in May, ending the nursing of our last child in order to go.  (In fairness, it was time. Not like I left a 3 week old baby to suddenly adjust to formula!)  The company of the ladies was just what I needed, and I rediscovered who I was and how I fit into God's creation (sounds cheesy, but I'd unknowingly lost myself in the day-to-day and minute-to-minute job of caring for everyone around me.) Surprise!  I had fun, I saw things and pointed things out that the others were thrilled to see, I "experienced God" in a way that I'd never known Him before in the company of those women.  The company of those women was so much more:  praying together, sharing life experiences, enjoying life away from the demands of "home" for all of us.  Just invigorating in every sense of the word.  That trip was followed by a scouting trip in July (camping with Carol, checking out trails that could potentially be used in future retreats....)  Again, I discovered that I was much more than the tired Mom that had to keep everyone happy back home.  I rediscovered so many things that had thrilled me as a child:  Tent caterpillars and their soft furry feel, acorns and beechnuts on the ground, hiking through Virginia woods that seemed somehow familiar.  And that type of woods WAS familiar:  We lived in Ft. Belvoir when I was 5, and our military housing backed up to woods.  As a young kid, we found those caterpillars, as well as Luna moths, Indian arrowheads, and all kinds of other exciting things, and explored as far as we were allowed to go in the woods behind our house. Other trips followed, and Carol saw in me some leadership qualities that I never would have thought were there.  The other ladies on other trips encouraged me in the role of leader-in-training, and I learned all that I could from Carol, anticipating the retreat when I would actually lead.  Imaging that--me, a leader and not just a follower.  What an adventure! I was thinking about how the "spark" of wanting to live on a farm was rekindled a few years ago.  I always loved the idea of living in the country, having lots of animals, that sort of thing.  Milking a cow or gathering eggs might have been a small fleeting thought at some point in my childhood, but it didn't figure into the dream as much as owning a horse or galloping across a pasture on that horse. I was pretty firmly entrenched in being the suburban mom who keeps everyone else's schedules going, and was getting burned out pretty quickly.  When Michael was born (3rd child) I felt like I'd lost my ability to mentally keep track of everything and the talent of multitasking went right out the window.  By the time Jeremy was born 6 years later, I was having real trouble keeping up with things and suburban life just wasn't satisfying, there was no space in our yard for a new garden venture, the gardens that existed were pretty but were needing more care than I had energy for.....in short, I was not doing a very good job at being mom, taxi driver, chef, home-work helper....  Mothering or being a good wife or trusted volunteer all seemed like areas that I was failing miserably at, and some days I didn't even have the energy to try anymore.  I was going to counseling.  I was on antidepressants.  The small voice in my head still told me that I was not living up to expectations. A small blurb in the church bulletin described a women's hiking retreat to Shenandoah National Park with a mom that I knew from Christopher's class at Immanuel.  If it had been someone I didn't know leading the trip, it would have never caught my attention in the way that it did.  This seemed like a lifeline in the middle of what had become a rather bleak life (at least from my perspective back then!). I prayed about it, and presented it to Jeff after talking with Carol, the leader.  Jeff agreed to let me go, and paid the cost (not cheap, but totally worth it). I went in May, ending the nursing of our last child in order to go.  (In fairness, it was time. Not like I left a 3 week old baby to suddenly adjust to formula!)  The company of the ladies was just what I needed, and I rediscovered who I was and how I fit into God's creation (sounds cheesy, but I'd unknowingly lost myself in the day-to-day and minute-to-minute job of caring for everyone around me.) Surprise!  I had fun, I saw things and pointed things out that the others were thrilled to see, I "experienced God" in a way that I'd never known Him before in the company of those women.  The company of those women was so much more:  praying together, sharing life experiences, enjoying life away from the demands of "home" for all of us.  Just invigorating in every sense of the word.  That trip was followed by a scouting trip in July (camping with Carol, checking out trails that could potentially be used in future retreats....)  Again, I discovered that I was much more than the tired Mom that had to keep everyone happy back home.  I rediscovered so many things that had thrilled me as a child:  Tent caterpillars and their soft furry feel, acorns and beechnuts on the ground, hiking through Virginia woods that seemed somehow familiar.  And that type of woods WAS familiar:  We lived in Ft. Belvoir when I was 5, and our military housing backed up to woods.  As a young kid, we found those caterpillars, as well as Luna moths, Indian arrowheads, and all kinds of other exciting things, and explored as far as we were allowed to go in the woods behind our house. Other trips followed, and Carol saw in me some leadership qualities that I never would have thought were there.  The other ladies on other trips encouraged me in the role of leader-in-training, and I learned all that I could from Carol, anticipating the retreat when I would actually lead.  Imaging that--me, a leader and not just a follower.  What an adventure! A few years after that first trip, I was excited to organize and lead a retreat on my own.  God led me through the devotion writing, choosing popular hymns and songs to coordinate with daily lessons, planning the trails and lodging we'd be using.  I had some interested women, friends and family, but their life-stages weren't right for a retreat and one by one they regretfully had to tell me that they could not go.  God gave me no indication that I should cancel the whole thing.  The conviction that this is what He had for me to do never left.  It finally came down to me and one friend--Jane. We knew that our husbands were nervous about the two of us going, so we invited them to come along.  It became a 2 couple retreat, and we diligently followed the plans and devotions as a run-through for a future retreat.  That future retreat never materialized, but the time with Myles and Jane was absolutely wonderful.  A blessing from God, for sure! During that trip, we met two motorcycle riders, a husband and wife (and their crazed little cycle-riding chihuahua), and that's where the farm idea started forming in my head.  These two lived on a farm in the valley and rode up to the park when they were able to.  Jeff and I thought that was a wonderful compromise--live near a state park, own a farm after raising our kids, have the best of all worlds.....  A spark started in my mind about farming.   (That's where this whole dialogue was leading.)   Since those trips, I've heard a number of times the same message.  Not sure I can put it into words that pull all the thoughts together, but here goes:  As you become immersed in adulthood, you can lose sight of the things that brought you joy as a kid.  But...some of those joyful experiences give you a clue as to how God made you to be uniquely YOU.  Whatever has happened to take your attention away from that child-like wonder at different things in your life, the unique qualities of who you are don't just disappear as you get older.  You can rediscover child-like wonder in the things around you, especially if you've come to a place in your life where nothing seems to lift your spirits.  The things that spoke the most about who you WERE as a kid (for me: finding a fat toad under a mossy rock, or digging up an arrowhead after a heavy rain, or hiking when the leaves are shimmering with dew in the early morning) can still speak the most about who you ARE now.  For me, finding a bright green tree frog out here on the farm and sharing it with my kids is an exciting thing--I used to do that with Chris and Carrie when they were little.  We would set up stinky tanks of pond water in the house to raise polliwogs.  We went to the park to just play.  We walked the neighborhood and picked up red leaves to press between sheets of wax paper. We grew dill in the garden and picked the caterpillars off the plants to raise in a jar, just for the wonder of watching the tiger swallowtail butterfly hatch and then be set free. The hiking retreats brought back my life-long fascination with nature, my love of the outdoors, the way all of creation could turn my thoughts into thanksgiving to God for making everything so beautiful and wonderful, and also set the spark in my thought-process about a farm….maybe in the shadow of Shenandoah National Park. That was probably phase one of the journey to becoming a hobby farmer. Phase 2 would have been this: Hearing various friend talk about childhood life on a farm and what they missed (or didn't miss!) Going to church with my parents in western Wisconsin and seeing farmers as real people Visiting my sister Paula and her husband and kids in Tennessee, and seeing their self-sufficiency and the joy in their lives as they worked together to provide for themselves and for the people around them. Driving south to Atlanta or north to Wisconsin and having Jeff tell me to pick my chin up off the floor or stop "rubber-necking" (I was gaping at farmhouses and barns and animals out in the fields…..) Hearing about how my cousin Sarah was farming in Michigan, raising chickens, selling eggs, growing produce for her own family and for a small CSA (community supported agriculture) that she set up.  (I was a jealous, truth be told!) Having a wonderful harvest of peaches from one of the trees in our Palatine yard, and freezing them and making jam….. Joining a CSA that delivered a box full of their own farm-grown produce every week for 30 weeks out of the year, and hanging on every word of their newsletters Thinking that our own life could encompass so much more than sports practices and games, the seemingly endless and energy-draining  fundraisers and activities for school and church, the maintaining of gardens of pretty flowers rather than vegetables and fruit trees….. The chicks which became our first "livestock" in a decidedly non-livestock-friendly town. Then came the gift card to a book store, and Jeremy chose one book and I stood in front of the self-sufficiency row and couldn't decide which one to buy.  My choice was Carla Emery's "The Encyclopedia of Country Living", and if my attention wasn't firmly heading in the direction of "FARM", it sure was after reading just the chicken-chapter of that book.  It sparked Jeff's imagination too, just a little, when I gave him no choice but to listen to me read word-for-word different sections of that book.  Whatever the "phases", here we are.  Like when I was in training for leading retreats, I have no doubt that we are here because God orchestrated it.  I would love to think that we'll spend the rest of our lives here, but already there are things (like new county ordinances) that are putting that assumption into question.  But here are the things that I love about this place, both the physical "place" and the "place" that I find myself in at this point in my life: Learning every day, whether I really want to or not Being out in the fresh air, whether it's comfortable weather or extreme cold or heat Having a routine that includes lots of animals Milking a cow every day, rain or snow or shine, and having her and her lovely calf become more and more calm as we learn to work with each other Discovering that I'm tougher and more capable than I ever would have thought (Lift a 50 pound bag of feed?  No problem!) Growing a small percent of what we eat as a family (at this point, it's eggs and milk and chicken meat, not much more) Living in an area where I can run to the store and not worry about not having put make-up on my face or changed out of dingy clothes. The friendliness and genuine caring spirit of the people we meet:  Feedstore owners become friend s who share advice and produce, co-op customers become sources for other healthy produce or meat options, hay farmers become not just feed sources but connections by which other connections are made, people go out of their way to be helpful or even give up hours or days to "help", just for the sake of helping (and we can do the same).  The sense of community, even when we don't know all of our neighbors and haven't lived all of our lives in this community (going to the general store for an ice cream or other treat, each and every time we've had a friendly conversation with just about every other customer in the store).   I am happy here.  It brings joy to my life—the one hundred-plus chickens, the cows who now trot right over for a treat, the dogs who run circles for an hour every morning in the pasture, even the rats or predators that we need to outwit.  Being here reminds me in so many ways of childhood joys and of who God created me to be, at least in my limited understanding of that creation.  I will praise Him for this time that we're here and even when this particular opportunity comes to an end. And in some ways, I'm sure the time here will bring out other qualities that I never expected to see in myself or in my husband or kids, and those God-given qualities will pave the way or teach us skills that we'll need for the next "phase" of our lives. Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/

Some positive signs?

Or...the title could just as easily be "Wishful Thinking" Bessie was "bred" last week on Tuesday, almost a week ago.  For two days before that, her milk supply was below what I've considered normal.  I close Ruby the calf in her stall every night and milk Bess each morning before letting Ruby out for the day.  Ruby nurses when she wants to all day long she is ushered back into the stall for the night again. Bess had given 2 gallons each morning for a while, then it was down to 1 1/2, then 1 and a quart....then was the big day when the vet came and artificially inseminated her.  The next day, her supply bumped right up to a bountiful 2 gallons again, with plenty to spare.  Same thing every day since then, despite my erratic milking times of the past week (everyone has been home from work and school, and some mornings it was SO nice to cheat the farm-schedule and sleep in just a bit!)  One day I felt terrible when I went out to milk her at 10:00 instead of 8, but she was just standing there (very full and ready to be milked!), chewing her cud calmly and waiting for her grain. Not sure if the milk excess would have anything to do with whether she is actually pregnant or not.  It's wishful thinking.  The vet DID say that if I fed her more corn, she'd give more milk.  But this extra milk is coming in despite the fact that I ran out of corn and she's been getting her grain mix without the corn mixed in.  No reason her milk supply should be better than it was a week ago, with no grain to stimulate production. It was hard to believe that the heifer, Lucy, could get pregnant on the first try by the vet.  Bessie is 8 going on 9, and getting pregnant on the first try could be truly amazing.  But....we DID pray for a first-time take, and it would truly bring on a bit of rejoicing if she was pregnant and growing another beautiful calf already.  My only reference:  when Lucy was bred, I noticed that she started acting a bit different.  More protective of Ruby, the calf.  Much more interested in eating all day long.  More maternal towards Ruby and Bessie both, and they'd stand together and just groom (lick) each other.  The vet told me that cows don't act any differently when they are pregnant, though. Maybe milk supply COULD be a sign--Lucy hadn't had a calf yet, so there was no milk supply to gauge her pregnancy/non-pregnancy by.  One funny comment from talking with the vet last week.  Dr. Hall and I were talking about Bessie and her body condition (she was terribly thin just a month or two ago), feeding her more corn for winter fat and more milk, and Dr. Hall commented "She seems to be a very calm cow."  I could have burst out laughing.  All the stories I tell about her, and I make her out to be a monster.  This vet sees hundreds of cows, both dairy and beef cattle, and she describes our Bess as "calm".  Whew!  The truth of the matter is, Bessie is very much calmer now that she isn't fighting a gorgeous young upstart (that would have been Lucy) who is determined to challenge the boss cow's position.  Bessie and her calf, Ruby, make a calm, contented team who are fun to be around and friendly towards anyone bringing a treat.  We can walk up to either one of them out in the pasture and they are usually patient with being petted.  Ruby might toss her head and trot away in playfulness, but Lucy was the feisty one who would thunder away in mock defiance. Yes, we are blessed with a "calm" cow, and that calm cow has a playful but not defiant calf who is turning out to be one beautiful and sweet young lady in her own right.  We'll see if the milk supply theory holds true for another day.  I'm off to milk the cow, just 22 minutes after my "goal" of milking her by 8 am every morning. I'm anxious to know if that calm cow (otherwise known as Bessie) might possibly, potentially, wonderfully have become pregnant on the first try...... Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/

Thanks Giving

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone! We feasted on our Dykstra traditional favorites:  Turkey with stuffing, "green" potatoes (potatoes, whipped with sour cream, butter, cream cheese, garlic salt, and chives), sweet potato casserole with pecan/brown sugar/coconut topping, gravy (I had to keep most of the giblets separate, but at least there were giblets!), jellied cranberry sauce, rolls with butter, and pies. This year was a little different than what we've celebrated before.  The turkey was succulent and delicious--we all agreed that it was the best ever.  It was the tom turkey that strutted around our barnyard for 6 months. We don't ever want to eat a store-bought turkey again!  Even the breast-meat was juicy and the dark meat was flavorful but not overpowering. The green potatoes were typical, but I don't always use whole potatoes.  Sometimes it's easier to used mashed potatoes, but not this year.  It was real potatoes, boiled first, then mashed.  I would have liked to have home-grown chives and homemade dairy products to use, but that's for another year. The sweet potatoes were cooked from whole and then mashed and whipped until fluffy with sour cream, an egg (from our birds, of course), spices, and then the wonderful crunchy topping.  I've done this before with canned yams, but from scratch just seemed the way to go this year.  Yum.  The cranberry sauce was canned by me after the holidays last year, when cranberries were on clearance in the supermarkets.  Tasty! The rolls?  Homemade, and they turned out light and fluffy and not like little hockey pucks (that's my usual result when I attempt to make rolls).  The butter was made fresh from the cream that rises to the top of Bessie's milk.  We are SO spoiled! I had a whole day to make pies this year, so I went a little over-the-top. Pumpkin....baked from whole pumpkins.  Jeremy went on a field trip and brought home a pie pumpkin, chosen with the idea of pumpkin pie in mind.  So we added a couple of store-bought pie pumpkins and baked them up.  I made 2 pies and a muffin-tin of tiny pumpkin tarts at Jeremy's request. Apple....Apples were hard to come by this year, but I splurged and bought 3 bags of Granny Smith apples at the store and a new stoneware pie plate.  Oh--forgot to mention:  the pie crusts were made with home-rendered lard (pig fat, cooked down to a liquid and then solidified in the frig to use for baking.)  I don't think Crisco-based pie crust will ever taste good again! Pecan....I had bought the pecans a while back at Farm and Fleet.  Not the best place for quality food, but these were good.  With the addition of eggs from our flock, the pecan pie didn't sink down in the middle and was SO delicious. I mistakenly put our new kefir-grains into the cream that I had planned to whip for pie topping, so there was only store-bought vanilla ice cream.  Oh well.  (Side-note on kefir--not sure if I'm doing it right, but we're going to try it and see how it goes.  It ferments in milk, which we have plenty of....and a big thanks to Trephina for the grains!) Now, all of this home-baked yumminess didn't just happen, and wouldn't have happened if not for help from the whole family.  I had potatoes cooked and prepared by Tuesday night, and Jeff took Michael and Jeremy for most of the day Wednesday so that I could have the whole kitchen to myself for pie and bread making.  That's probably the biggest treat of all! Thursday was the first time I worked the "feast' around the Lions football game.  That was nice for Jeff, I think, even though they lost in overtime.  Sigh....  But we finally sat down to dinner around 5:00 and I think everything was traditional, in our family's sense of what we enjoy for Thanksgiving.  At different times while planning, cooking, baking, preparing, cleaning up, and enjoying time with our kids, I was struck by the almost overwhelming thought of what bounty we had to work with.  Even growing our own bird--he was NOT an inexpensive turkey by the time he had eaten for 6 months.  But we didn't have to cut corners, we have a warm house made cozier by the warmth from baking and the smells of cooking, the whole family was together, there was laughter and happiness.....  I hope that we honestly thanked God enough for all that He provided, although I'm sure that we took it all WAY too much for granted.  Sometimes I think of Victorian opulence, and how much MORE we as middle-class Americans have at the swipe of a credit card than the upper-class Victorian elite may have had at any given time.  We are truly spoiled to the point of thinking that somehow we DESERVE what we enjoy from day to day. Psalm 30:11-12 is what we read at the end of our meal: You turned my wailing into dancing, you removed my sack-cloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.  O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever. Do we really know what it means to have our wailing (absolute grief) turned to dancing (overwhelming joy), or what it means to have rags (of shame?  mourning?  poverty? humiliation?) replaced with true rejoicing?  Most of us haven't experienced the depths to which humanity can sink before having no choice but to turn to God for deliverance. May we sing to God for every small grace in our lives, and thank Him over the course of our entire lives, regardless of our circumstances. Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/

I'm not a vet, after all.

Photo:  I know I used this photo a few weeks ago, but....it works just as well to show Bess's opinion of my bed-side manner.... OK, the second shot in Bessie's rear just about made me sick.  I was too nonchalant and not careful enough to set the stage properly.  I stood behind her and hesitated just long enough to make her wonder what I was up to. It was a tinier syringe, harder to get a good hold on.  My jab was less effective than last time, and probably not as well placed in her rather large thigh.  Bessie flinched and tried to walk away, which made me lose hold of the syringe altogether.  She was trying to walk in circles with a syringe hanging down out of her skin--not comfortable, and I'm lucky it didn't get crushed against the wall.  (I can imagine it now--the shame of calling the vet to say that I'd botched the most important shot of them all!) I had to rescue the syringe (carefully!), and pretend to set up the milking stuff all over again to trick her to go back into the stanchion (she KNOWS that we don't milk in the evening these days, so was already suspicious), and then we played "chicken" with me holding the clasp for the rope open and her bobbing away just far enough so that I couldn't clip the lead onto her halter.  She HATES to be contained, that's for sure. But it's done, half an hour later than the vet prescribed, but done. Tomorrow morning the vet comes with the tank of frozen bull-stuff--all neatly encased in tiny little straws for each breeding attempt, and the artificial insemination will be performed.  We'll know in 18-21 days if she isn't pregnant (she should come into her heat cycle unless we have to deal with another cyst), or a suspected pregnancy will be confirmed in 40 days or so.  Sigh....it's the same thing we did with Lucy the heifer to make sure she would be ready for her move to Ohio, but that was stressful enough. Please pray for a successful breeding!  I feel the tension level rising already.  I know that whether Bessie gets pregnant or not on this try is very inconsequential in the big picture, but...."Cast all your cares on Him" keeps running through my mind, and this is definitely the "care" that's on my mind tonight! Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/

Vet update

Photo:  With any luck, all of this messing around will result in another sweetheart of a calf like little Ruby Well, I did it.  Bessie got her shot. I botched it just a bit.  Giving the actual shot was no big deal, though. I got out all the instructions and the pre-filled syringe about 5 pm yesterday, ready to do the deed after dinner.  I had remembered that it was Friday night for the first shot and again on Sunday night.  Wrong. There was a moment of dread when I realized that it was supposed to Friday MORNING.  Time to put on the face of shame and call the vet.  I reached the vet on-call that I haven't met yet but have talked with extensively.  She wasn't fazed by my mistake.  She said it might make the results a little less sure (as far as a successful artificial insemination resulting in a pregnancy), but that I should give the shot this morning (Saturday) and push back the Sunday night shot to Monday night.  She did not say what a failure I was as a cow owner, or how could I have missed giving the shot by 12 hours.  I was relieved. The shot and instructions were set out on the counter so that I couldn't miss them this morning.....I settled in to watch Kung Fu Panda with Jeremy and Jeff.....and then headed to bed for a sound sleep in order to be up bright and early to give THE SHOT.  Wishful thinking.  Yesterday, Rocky had snapped up and swallowed whole a large bit of baked pig skin that the chickens had left.  (Explanation might be in order, I guess.  A local meat, milk and eggs CSA farm had taken their hogs to slaughter and a friend is a member there.  She was able to get 4 large bags of "back fat", which I baked down into lard.  What was left was crunchy strips of pig skin with small bits of pig fat and lard still attached.  The chickens quickly scarfed down all the yummy stuff---which I gave them because the pigs were raised organic on pasture and the fat was not from supermarket pigs---but I didn't realize that pieces of pig hide were still lying in the grass and not pecked into tiny bits.  Rocky did his usual snatch and grab routine---walking like usual on the leash, suddenly grabbing something in his mouth, looking at Shadow to see if she has noticed, and bolting the whole thing down before she can fly at him in a rage.  Sometimes it's been a dead chipmunk, shrew, or other yummy cat-kill.  This time it was a large hunk of very dry pork skin--about the same as swallowing a big rawhide bone whole).   Anyway, he was in rather gastric distress all night, having to be let out every 2 or 3 hours, gulping large amounts of water, trying to get comfortable and only seeming to be comfortable outside on top of the picnic table (with coyotes howling in the distance, so I couldn't leave him there).  Needless to say, I'm not well rested. So, back to the story.  If you remember yesterday's account, I over-emphasized stuff like Bessie trampling around, tossing her head and endangering my life, that sort of thing.  She does protest when the vet is here because she has to be tied to the stanchion to keep her under control.  It is a bit intimidating to think of dodging her head or hooves as she moves her big bulk around trying to avoid me. What really happened was this: The chickens had pecked clean the skin of a pumpkin that I gave them last night.  That was Bessie's treat while I set up for milking. The poop was scraped out from where she would stand and new straw was put down, the milk crate was ready for me to sit on, the iodine dip was ready to sterilize her teats, and she was happily munching on pumpkin skin.  I had the syringe of medication in the milk pail, ready for my first opportunity to enrage my cow and make her into an enemy rather than a placid milk-machine. I turned away to bring the bucket of grain into the milking area, and there was her left flank, nicely exposed, tail off to the side.  She had no indication that I was about to do anything out of the ordinary.....perfect position and timing for me to plunge the needle into her thigh.  I uncovered the needle and hovered it above her skin, trying to convince myself to do it (once, a neighbor was undergoing fertility treatment and her husband had forgotten to give her the fertility shot before leaving for work.  She called me, frantic, and asked if I would do it.  I know I hurt her because I didn't know what I was doing, and blood wasn't supposed to well up, and I never wanted to give a shot again.  That was my only experience of giving a shot to another living thing, and it was not a happy one). Bessie kept munching, unaware of the mental turmoil I was going through.  My hands had to stop trembling and I had to convince myself to just get it over with. She did not flinch at all.  I was the one who flinched.  I jabbed the needle in and then plunged the medication through it.  She looked up and shifted just a bit, as if to say "Huh?" That was all.  The trampling and head butting and voiding of body fluids and all of that stuff?  Must be for effect when the vet comes.  Bess went right back to her pumpkin and proceeded to let me milk her as if I hadn't just jabbed a needle into her back end.  No hard feelings, no potential for injury, no angry cow chasing me around the cow pen.....and one shot to go before the rescheduled breeding on Tuesday morning. Wow, maybe I COULD have been a vet....if only I could remember the correct time to actually GIVE the shot! Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/

The joy of playing vet

Today is the day.  I got cows for this very reason.  I dreamed about this particular moment of cow ownership.  Months of waiting to arrive at this wonderful turning point..... I get to give Bessie a shot in the butt.  Oh, long-awaited day!  (I have to mention here, that Jeremy made a cyst joke that has become the "butt" of many comments at the dinner table.  The reason for the shot is the cyst that the vet discovered, which will keep Bessie from coming into heat.  Bessie's cyst and the whole reproductive side of things was the topic of non-appetizing dinner conversation, courtesy of me.  Jeremy piped up and said that Bessie was going to "in-CYST" on getting the shot.  His timing and emphasis was perfect.  We couldn't help but laugh, and the dinner table conversation went downhill even more from that point.....  Very cute and clever.)  ;) Today I will clip the lead onto Bess's halter as she bobs her heavy head around to avoid me, tie her up to the stanchion as she pulls with all her might to drag me out of the barn instead of cooperating (not easy--on my part).  I will dodge her feet as she tramples around after being tied up (she WILL be shifting around and trying to escape), lift her tail as she tries to void her insides by way of protest (supposedly lifting the tail immobilizes a cow in some way, but I watched as the vet had to wait for the downpour to let up while he held her tail), push against her manure-encrusted/freshly splattered back end and (easier said than done) jab a needle into the back of her thigh to administer the prescribed medication which MIGHT result in a successful AI attempt on Monday.  On the other hand, she might decide that the bucket of grain in front of her is so delicious that she willingly stands still.  Either scenario is totally possible, but I still have to stick a needle into her.  Not fun. This is the shot which will in some way do one or more of these things:  counteract the cyst that is keeping her from coming into heat, encourage her to come into heat in spite of the cyst, or will encourage her body to produce an egg cell to be fertilized on Monday.....something along those lines.  End result could be that she is pregnant and due to calve again in early September 2013.  I'd kind of like to know if it's a 50/50, 25/75, or 99/1 chance. She gets another shot (given by me again) on Sunday between 8:00 and 9:00 pm, and then I call the vet, and he comes exactly 12 hours after that with only a 4 hour window of time to artificially inseminate her before all these efforts come to nothing. I supposed it's a necessary part of the learning process with the specific cows that God has entrusted to our care, but.... Of COURSE we have a cow who needs preferential treatment.  How boring might farm life be if I didn't have to learn how to be a vet as well as a farmer?  (Be sure to read that last statement with a good dose of sarcasm). (Come to think of it, my childhood dream was to be a vet, and second to that would have been to own and ride a horse.  If you substitute bossy manure-coated Bessie the dairy cow--who couldn't possibly be saddled and ridden, whose mane and tail couldn't possibly be brushed and fussed over--for the sleek and beautiful horse in that dream, I guess both parts of that fantasy have come true!  Hooray!)  :) If I don't fumble the needle and syringe, it won't be too bad. When the vet plunged the first shot into her thigh last Friday, there was no blood and it was over quickly. After all, when she had mastitis last spring, I had to put syringes of warm medication up all 4 of her teats, twice a day, for 4 days.  No way could we afford to pay for the vet to make the house-call that many times and he didn't necessarily want to since this was something the owner (me) could do.  She didn't flinch except once, when one quarter of her udder had become red and feverish and the very act of touching her there must have been painful.  She didn't flinch except that one time, even though I could feel the stuff bulging up her teats and into her udder.  Bleah!  That was NOT my most fond experience with having a dairy cow. Now this, this lovely experience could top even shooting medicine up her swollen teats (sorry for the crudeness).  Giving a shot to a 1000 pound cow, by way of jabbing a long needle into the back of her leg is NOT going to rank up there with the joy of seeing fresh white milk streaming into a gently steaming warm bucket.  It will NOT compare in any way to seeing calf and mama romping joyfully through the stand of white pines.  It can't possibly top the absolute wonder of watching little Ruby slipping out of Bessie and taking her first breath after being born, or holding my own breath as I waited to see if Bessie would turn out to be a good mama after all (she is a great Mom, contrary to all those stories about modern-day dairy cows having lost that mothering instinct).  It will definitely pale in comparison to standing at the gate, making a weird clucking noise and seeing both cows hoist themselves up from their comfy spot in the sun to race over and see what delectable treat I have for them (pumpkin, pears, apples, green beans, Bessie even munched down radish tops).  If it results in another beautiful calf like Ruby, it MIGHT be worth it.  Ask me again in 9 1/2 months! If all goes well, maybe I'll wish I HAD pursued being a vet!  At any rate, I'm getting to live out part of that childhood dream, in a totally unexpected way. Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/

The trashpicker's list from yesterday.....

Wow, looking back over the "wish list" I sent yesterday, a few comments come to mind: "What kind of selfish person puts out a list like this?"  "Who has such a greasy mind that they try to pry into the dark nooks and crannies of their friends' basements, sheds, garages for this kind of stuff?" "What kind of trash-picker actually puts out a bulletin of the things they'd like to come across in someone else's cast-offs/trash?" "What is this person THINKING?!!!" And..... "Wow, if anyone actually reading this list has even one thing that ends up at the farm, we'll be a gypsy-camp of clutter, for sure!" Anyway, to put a lighter spin on my "request"---It's out there, whatever, can't take it back at this point.  It's filled with things that COULD be put to good use, but are not necessary in the least.  All of these things are inconsequential, but COULD be used in projects or collecting rain water or numerous other things.  All of these things MIGHT be pulled out of someone's trash if I was passing by and didn't have the kids in the car (they would be mortally embarrassed!)  Michael groans if I pass a pile of trash with a perfectly good pumpkin on the top of it, and begs me NOT to stop.  The boys thought it was terrible that I removed a smashed pumpkin from their school parking lot on the Sunday after Halloween.  Who wants a trash-pickin' Mom? On the other hand, the flip side of the "list" is this:  If we have someone on the farm that would be of use to you, our friends and family, whether it was donated from someone else's junk or is junk that we generated on our very own, you're welcome to it if it will help you in any way.  If you're starting up with chickens and we've accumulated a wealth of chicken supplies (which we have!), why should you pay for anything if we have it available? If I have a heated pet-water bowl that I've used for chickens and you need one for your outdoor kitty, our clutter becomes your penny-saved and provides you with something that is useful to you. If fencing that we no longer need could be used to surround your garden and keep rabbits out so that your flowers or vegetables can thrive, it's yours. If we end up with hay at the end of the season and you've come to the end of your supply, we can spare a few bales. (That's a big "IF" this year for everyone, I think!) I like that way of looking at things.  Not just providing for only our family in our own tiny little private world where no-one else can touch us, but operating as a community.  When my Mom cans and freezes food every summer and fall, she goes over the top in generosity as she shares the wealth.  When we needed fence-posts, they pulled out the old T-posts that had been stored under the deck for years and trucked them down here for us to use (the posts were all used within just a couple of months).  When the windows of my parents' house needed to be replaced, my Mom and Dad borrowed a huge trailer to bring down their old chain-link dog kennel and all the windows that could be salvaged.  On our side of things, I've been making jams and jellies and fruit juices that are different than my Mom's vast repertoire, and I'm itching to share them with Mom and Dad.  Not out of a sense of obligation, but because it's an expression of gratefulness and a way to give back. That's the thought-process behind the "list".  Just brainstorming to say "If you don't need this and want to get rid of it, we could find a use for it.....or we could potentially pass it on to someone else!"  :) Happy trash-picking......if that's your thing! Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/

The right piece of clutter/junk/trash for the job....

Or the title could be "The Dutch penny-pinching ethic".  Or:  "The Inevitable Gypsy Camp of Clutter" Or:  "The trash-picker wannabe" I've been compiling a mental list of things that would be considered trash, junk or clutter in suburbia but could be put to good use out here. Number one on the list right now:  Halloween/fall decorations.  *Straw bales can be used for animal bedding or to spread on top of muddy walk-ways.  If it's soggy, it would work well to spread out over the mucky cow-pen outside and give Bessie and Ruby some traction in the mud. *Pumpkins.  If they haven't been carved but their lives as decorations are over (or almost over).  Nothing moldy.  We actually bought 100 jack-o-lantern sized pumpkins at the local Menard's for 50 cents a piece the day after Halloween.  Jeff had the fun job of going to the hardware store to pick them up with the trailer, and we figured it was at least a ton of pumpkin and MUCH too heavy for our little trailer to do ever again.  Jeremy has been smashing a pumpkin each day, while Ruby is so eager to get in and munch that she almost got hammered on the head one time.  Between Bessie and Ruby, not much is left for the chickens.  Ruby will seek out the orange skin that is left and munch it when there's nothing else.  We stored them in the silo where they will freeze solid, unless we have another crazy mild winter like last year, and then the rats will find a way in and eat all the seeds.  Even after being frozen, the poultry will eagerly peck at the thawed pumpkin "flesh", and I'm already wishing that we'd bought twice as many when we had the chance. *Corn stalks.  Ear corn, Indian corn, and the corn stalk decorations can all be used here for animal feed, as long as the decorations don't have craft spray or varnish on them. Elsewhere on this mental list:  Construction materials. *Lumber.  The lone or cut-up plywood sheet after a project is done, or 2x4's, 2x2's, 2x6's....you get the idea.  We took the old and well-used choir platforms from the church in Palatine when they were being dismantled, and slowly that old wood is being re-used for things around the farm.  Old pieces of plywood left over from other projects are sometimes the perfect size for a chicken nest box, or to patch a hole in the barn wall where the baby coons needed to be removed.  Boards that have been cut to odd sizes can be cut down and used instead of purchasing a full-length 2x4 in order to get a 36" long piece. *Small amounts of shingles or tar paper left over from large projects and no longer needed (can be re-used on the roof of a dog house, or a chicken "tractor", or a rabbit hutch...where they don't need to be a perfect match to any other roofing supplies). *Gate latches, strap hinges, hard-ware type stuff that you might have bought years ago but that didn't work for the job or that you never found a use for Other items that might be "junk" in your garage or shed or basement but that could find a new use here (Here I start to sound a bit greedy, or like a pack-rat/hoarder): Fence boards or packing crate boards (Packing crate boards have formed the *FREE* siding of the new cow shelter----boards that were salvaged from the jumble of stuff on the third floor of the barn.  Jeff and Russ also used packing crate boards and miscellaneous 2x4's to build Ruby's calf stall, plus metal hardware that we had.  I don't think that they spent anything on supplies.  VERY Dutch!) Pet food bowls, feeders or water bottles, or old crocks that could be used for water or feed. Garden fencing.  Used garden fencing or chicken wire, as long as it's not in a tangled mess. PVC pipes or connector pieces--for constructing chicken-pens Metal pipes or connector pieces for outdoor chicken-tractors (movable cages for the birds to live in and for us to control where they graze, OR there are DIY greenhouse plans using bent metal or PVC tubing) Pet cages (rabbit or guinea pig cages, etc. can be used for batches of chicks or for containing one or two birds that shouldn't be in with the rest of the flock--think "sick-bay" or new-bird accomodations.) Child/pet safety gates. 5 gallon buckets, with or without lids (for catching rain water, hauling warm water to the cows in winter, or making into nest-boxes) Old windows or old patio doors that could be used as cold-frame toppers in the garden Old smaller windows can be used in other ways around the barn and coop Dog crates--can be used for outdoor movable rabbit "runs" to allow the bunnies to graze grass in safety, or to keep growing chicks separate from the main flock temporarily. Dog leashes (or collars, cat collars) Dog or cat medication.  My mom gave us their dog's Front-Line and Heart-Gard when they had to put their sweet old Sheltie down.  Medications that haven't reached their expiration date can be used by us or another pet owner for the dogs and cats Compost bins or compost bin-type fencing. Old fence posts--either metal T-posts or wood posts 55 gallon plastic barrels (to use as rain barrels under the eaves of the house or barn, but only if they have previously been used for food and not fertilizer or other chemicals) Old tarps that could be cut to size (using the good parts, discarding the ripped parts). Recycle bins (the chickens LOVE to crowd into the old Palatine recycle bins if I fill them with straw.  Makes a big nest box for laying eggs, but is also very handy for sorting or storing things) Cat carriers, for transporting chickens, ducks, or rabbits between coops, to the butcher, or to another farm. Old mis-matched plastic storage containers with or without lids have various uses Metal trash cans or buckets--for storing feed, to keep rodents out.  Doesn't matter if they are dented or don't look nice anymore. Half-gallon Ball glass jars for refrigerating fresh milk Rope or twine--thick rope could be used to rehang the tire swing that Jeremy enjoyed Old birdhouses that could still shelter a bird family but might be a bit weathered or worn Small animal traps, like the Hav-a-hart style Milk bottles (glass half-gallon--but please get your deposit back instead if they are from  Oberweiss!) Canning jars and/or canning jar lids--old ones can be used for kitchen canisters (beans, rice, noodles, etc.), newer ones can be filled with fresh-canned produce or jam Half-barrels from wooden wine or whiskey barrels (The cows drink their water out of 2 of these every day until we can buy a galvanized metal water trough at a reasonable price).  On Jeff's wish-list:  A small outdoor table that could be used on the garage "patio" when he grills On my wish-list:  An old working refrigerator to keep in the garage for egg or milk customers to help themselves at pick-up time if we're not here Michael's wish-list:  Scrap metal.  Michael has been disassembling a huge old curing oven that was left outside of the barn, and getting a bit of money for the metal pieces.  Small pieces of "junk" metal can add up to a few pennies or even dollars, if the collection becomes big enough to warrant a trip to the metal recycle place with a full trailer.... And....dare I ask it?  If you've splurged to buy a new snowblower and might have an old snowblower in need of repair...Jeff and Chris might be able to make one work.  Jeff pulled one out of somebody's trash last year, Chris tried to get it to work, only to find out that key parts were missing.  It looked like the one they were trying to fix had already been cannibalized for parts to fix a different one....  It was disappointing (not that we couldn't buy a snowblower if we decided that we really need one) but the challenge of fixing one up was exciting (not to mention the challenge of being "Dutch" by not spending money!) Well, that got a little ambitious and maybe a tad bit greedy.....The list got longer each time I proof-read it!  Like with most of my ideas, I dream big and then need to scale W-A-Y back to reality.  If you're cleaning house, clearing out a shed, looking at plywood that's been leaning against your house for 5 years, or anything like that, we might be able to come up with a use for some of your cast-offs......just let us know!  Disclaimer for all of you generous souls out there:  Please, please, please don't go out and buy anything just to fill the "wish-list".  We are fine with or without these things.  It's just a list of things that COULD be put to good use IF they are available. The challenge then will be to continue to avoid what Chris joked about:  He laughed as he said that he was wondering if our farm would start to look something like a gypsy camp with piles of "junk" accumulating everywhere!  We're working on keeping the gypsy camp style to a minimum, although it DOES have a certain appeal, but are constantly realizing that we will always need more supplies for the farm ideas than we have money to spend on those supplies.  Some projects just won't happen, and that's OK.  There's not time for every project that comes to mind.  The much-needed project of today is quite easily pushed aside when something more monumental needs to be accomplished.  But it's always wonderful to take a look at the pile of lumber or sift through a bag of PVC connectors and find just the right piece for the "task at hand".  :) And by the same token, if we have a supply of cast-offs that have become "junk" but that you could use for a project, you are welcome to them.  Just visit the gypsy camp to see what junk might suit your needs. Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/