Our Dynamic Rat-catching Duo

Shadow and Rocky teamed up to kill another rat, quite unexpectedly as we were coming inside this morning.   The main gate to the pasture where they get to run and play every morning was swamped--literally, a pool of rain water blocked the way for us to leave the pasture without dripping black mud everywhere after walking through the gate.   We left the pasture by way of the gate that leads to the old Barnevelder coop instead, and that's when I got an idea.  Shadow was already sniffing excitedly at a chipmunk hole as I tried to latch the gate.  I remembered that when the chickens still lived in that coop, I'd come in one night after dark and something was scritching inside the coop--something furry and quick that I couldn't stomp on before it disappeared to the outside.  Shadow was already on the scent of something, and Rocky was alert and ready.....  So I gave the encouragement both dogs love to hear, in my most aggressive and excited voice:  "Get it!  Find him, Rocky!  Get it, Shadow!"   Shadow made a beeline to the back patio of the coop, which is made up of old bricks that give PLENTY of tunnel-space and hiding spots for any varmints that want to camp out there.   I called Rocky over, and we went inside the old coop.  He sniffed everything but didn't zero in on any one spot, even when I moved old feed bags and nesting boxes.   Rocky trotted back out and we circled around a few times, while Shadow was making a sizable hole next to the brick patio.  Rocky wasn't really interested in what she was doing, and kept sniffing all around the fenced chicken-area instead. With Shadow becoming more and more frantic as she dug deeper, I started moving the bricks that had sunk in where she was digging.  Beautiful black dirt was flying everywhere.... And a gray formless shape dashed out and right past Shadow.  I think she was taken by surprise, because she didnt' give chase immediately.  It took just a split-second too long for the rodent's mad dash to register with Shadow, who was still hot on the trail of "something" under the coop. The varmint got out of the fenced area and made the fatal mistake of ducking through the pasture fence, into the area where the dogs could still pursue it, and trying to take refuge under a few rolls of fencing.  A straight dash into the farmer's field would have meant safety.  A dash into the pasture meant another chance for the dogs..... I called Shadow over, moved one roll of fencing, and saw that it was a rat.  Shadow was a few steps behind it and slow to see where it went, so I called to Rocky.  He made a quick assessment and was ready when the rat dashed out from under the second roll of fencing.  Both dogs gave chase, and there was a snarling mass of fur as 2 big canines wrestled under a low-hanging evergreen bush with a smallish bundle of gray fur. Rocky came out the winner, with the rat squealing in his mouth.  He trotted out to the center of the pasture, and only hesitated once when the rat bit and held fast to his upper lip.   Not too much longer, and Rocky was standing over a limp little form, with Shadow circling and Rocky giving her his most menacing growl.  She trotted away as if she couldn't care less, and examined the hole that she'd made back by the old coop.  Rocky, thinking he was missing something, dashed back with rat in mouth, dropped it half-way there, and tried to join in the digging.   I tracked down the location of the now-dead rat, plunked a bucket over it just as Rocky came back to claim it, and stood there with bucket in place until both dogs lost interest in trying to take it back from me.    Over the fence it went, and I took a look at the dogs.  If we were going to be dripping black mud before, now there was no question about it.  Both dogs were covered in mud, Rocky's white paws were as black as possible, Shadow's belly was dripping mud. Sigh....even so, a dirty kitchen floor is a small price to pay for such a victory, I think! And the rat/mouse tally grows: Not one but TWO rats, caught by our fantastic "farm dogs" (who, under normal circumstances, are a far cry from ideal farm dogs!) Mice caught in traps in the barn?  The count is up to 7, with numerous traps licked clean, so I know there are probably THOUSANDS more of the little critters hiding out.  Maddening! Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/

The Right Tree....

We cut the tree.  After looking through the whole yard once more, we settled on the one growing too close to the towering blue spruce in the front yard.  It was about 20 feet tall, getting spindly on one side due to the branches touching the larger tree, and had very prickly needles.   Jeff and Michael cut it down with a hand-saw.  The spot where it grew is now ready for some real grass to grow instead of the tall weedy stuff and garlic mustard that was poking through the bare bottom branches.  And the front yard is a bit more open as we work towards having the landscaping work for us, rather than staying overgrown and untidy. The good-luck birdnest had blown out of it during the last windy day, so there's no bird's nest to grace the tree inside the house.  But, we have so many ornaments to hang on it's branches that we would not have even seen the little robin's nest during Christmas.  Still, it was there when we chose the tree, so that has to count for something!  ;) Photos above:   *Our tree for 2012, chosen from our small front yard **The proud property owner and his family's fresh-cut tree ***The tree set up and ready to decorate inside the living room of the farmhouse Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com Mouse and rat tally, winter 2012/13:   1 rat caught by Rocky  4 mice caught in traps in the barn so far and eaten by cats or chickens

Rocky earns his keep on the farm

Photo 1:  Rat damage inside the barn wall--rotted wood and support beams, and rat tunnels in the insulation Photo 2 and 3:  Rocky's prize catch on Friday (Friday) Rocky's worth to the farm was in question Thursday.  I was telling my friends Jane and Jan that Rocky's presence here was only because of how much I love my 15 year old son.  If not for that, Rocky would be a mistake.....  Rocky is Michael's dog....but Michael is a sophomore in high school and not home much for dog-care.  Rocky's schedule is handled by me, for the most part, which puts me in the place of correcting, praising, training, and by default, being companion to a dog that isn't mine.  Rocky is also....a husky with a strong prey drive.....  A dog that should be pulling a sled somewhere with year-round snow instead of living on a farm....  A dog that has taken out 3 adult chickens and one baby chick without a second thought (the chick wasn't even a thought before it was in his mouth--just CHOMP as he was walked by it on the leash!). Another conversation from yesterday:  I was asking my friend Melody if she had ever dealt with rats, and she told me (without hesitation) that Jack Russell terriers were the best thing, followed by the second-best option of poison dropped down the rat tunnel.  Their terrier was called in to finish off a rat in a trap that wasn't killed, and she described just how fierce that little varmint was, even with the trap still securely around it's midsection.   Background on the rat question:  We know that rats have lived in the barn.  2 summers ago I saw one and chopped at it with a shovel as I tore open a wall.  Last summer, rat tunnels were found to be undermining support beams and destroying the wood that rests on the cement foundation of the barn (see photo for damage to the barn from rats).  This winter, there are fresh rat tunnels in the exposed foam insulation, a new tunnel up through the floor of the silo, and a new rat tunnel was being dug deeper each night outside the silo and into the pile of composting manure against the base of the silo itself.    Two nights ago, I found a rat nest in the small room on the other side of the cow wall, and that same night, as I turned on the light in the cow's barn area, 2 rats scurried out from under the stanchion feed-platform.  For every rat you see, there are 10 more (or 12, or 20....you just don't know!) We set traps, and only caught 2 mice upstairs.  The rats are smart.  Didn't go for peanut butter, or peanut butter with a cracker, or peanut butter with marshmallow fluff. Not even Nutella!  But I know the rats are there, and that's maddening! So, back to Rocky. The cow pen is off limits to the dogs.  They chase Ruby the calf, who taunts them, and they snack on the tastiest of the cow-pies.  I've taken great pains to make sure the dogs know that the cow pen is just that:  The COW pen.  I even go so far as to touch something to the electric strand of fence so that it makes a tick-tick-tick snapping sound, which warns the dogs of being shocked on their sensitive noses again IF they dare to come in to the cow-pen.  They tuck their tails or whimper and move on to safer things. Today was above freezing, so....the work load includes filling water troughs when the spigot and hose are not frozen and hauling manure out to the pasture for spring-time fertilizer. Basically, it was a work-in-the-cow-pen morning. I looked at the rat tunnel by the silo, and there were signs of fresh digging.  That was enough to send me over the edge.  No rats in the traps, not even a mouse, and here is evidence that the rats are happy and active and very willing to do more damage to our barn.   I called Rocky over, who thought I was giving permission to torment the cows.  No, I kept calling him until he came to inspect the rat tunnel.   I goaded him on:  "Get him, Rocky!  Get him!"  Rocky's perky ears perked further up, and he became very focused as he caught the scent.  Before long he was knee-deep in soft, composted manure which he'd dug away from the silo as he followed the rat trail. I left him to dig while I shoveled yet another wheelbarrow full of last-night's manure to haul away.  Coming back, Rocky was no-where to be seen.  I thought that was the end of it and figured the the tunnel must just be a safe by-way to wherever their nest was (meaning--from one section of the barn to another, by way of the manure-pile!). I was wrong. Smart dog that he is, high prey-drive that he has, he had followed the tunnel by the scent of it, found the other end by the new cow shelter, started digging at that end as well, and was dashing back and forth from one end to another.  I've seen him track and pounce on a shrew in the pasture--maybe that's what he was up to?   I heard a small squeak, and saw him trotting proudly around the silo with something big and gray and squirmy in his mouth.  It was the size of a small guinea pig, not counting the tail.  I could see it's beady black eye.  It was NOT cute! Melody had told me how fierce rats can be, so I was quick to have the pitchfork ready if Rocky dropped the critter (to protect Rocky?  To protect myself?)  Rocky's jaws must have already done damage because it wasn't doing much besides a weak squealing noise.... I started to praise him, and realized that I didn't want him to think I was scolding him.  Not with a live rat in his mouth.  Not when I WANT him to hunt and kill the varmints that aren't welcome here.  I softened my voice and told him what a good dog he was, then said again in my most aggressive voice "Get him!  Get him, Rocky!" He had dropped the still-live rat to the ground when he saw me standing there, but quickly grabbed the gross ratty bundle and dashed off with it, shaking it hard with every 2 or 3 leaps.  Shadow had a dead squirrel once, and took great delight in shaking it so that it's body slapped hard back against her shoulders.  That's how hard Rocky was shaking that rat. Meanwhile, I was watching from back at the silo, cheering at the top of my lungs.  Woo-hoo!!!  The people on either side of the corn fields must have been wondering what, exactly, was going on over at the blue barn!  ;) Rocky finished the job, all while keeping curious Shadow at bay.  Shadow usually steals the shrews or chipmunks that they find, and then there's a keep-away game that they play. Not this time. Rocky would see Shadow coming, grab up that limp rat body and trot proudly all around the pasture as if to say "See, I killed it, it's MINE!"  And Shadow didn't even make a move to get it, as if she knew better. You'll want to know if I let him eat it, and the answer is no.  I kept shoveling manure until Rocky was distracted by the coy young Ruby, playing hard-to-catch and tormenting him until he couldn't stand it anymore.  He took off after her and I went for the rat.  Scooped it up with the pitchfork, and threw it into the farmer's field behind our fence.  Rocky had a vague idea of where it landed, but couldn't pinpoint it, so he lost interest. Wow, from one day explaining that Rocky didn't belong here to today, cheering, praising, and wanting to throw my arms around that big dog (after he had a bath!), what a change.   I do love him, and he does respond with affection, but all this time I've known that if he's near a chicken, he will go for it.  He does restrain himself if I'm out with him, but if a chicken catches him by surprise, he will turn on a dime and give chase.  I can't even call him off at that point, but have to chase him down and get between him and the bird before he comes to his senses.  Rocky and Shadow get an hour or so to run and hunt in the acre fenced pasture, before anything else is let out in the morning to "free-range".  The birds do not get let out in the morning until Rocky is secured on the dog-cable by the house, and he is never allowed in the pasture during the daytime until the birds are safely back in the barn and it's dark outside. I wouldn't go so far as to say I'd sacrifice a few chickens to keep him in hunting mode. Hunting mode clicked in the split-second he smelled rat.  He certainly can't be trained to hunt rats in the barn because the chickens are there, but I'll give him all the encouragement I can give for him to keep on hunting and yes, killing any rodent that dares to make his tunnel or nest where Rocky can reach him!   If there was a nice, juicy bone in the frig, it would be his reward.  He's welcome to kill all the rats he can find, and then some!  Hooray for the husky, who can earn his keep on a farm after all!  ;) Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/

Which Christmas tree?

We don't want to go to a parking lot to choose a "fresh-cut Michigan tree" that might have been sitting on a train car since August (and would be sprayed with a bright-green dye to keep it "ever"green).  And we used to make a family outing every year to a Christmas tree farm, but now that we have multiple spruce, fir and pine trees that need to be cut, it doesn't make sense to spend $50....or $60?....on a tree that someone else grew.   The problem?  The trees that need to be thinned, cut, or removed on our own property are getting really big, as in taller than our house already.  The tops have lost that classic Christmas tree shape as the trees themselves grow and mature.   Last year, Jeff took down one tree that I had my eye on, and he cut it down to size several times before it even fit into the house.  Still, I took garden shears into the house and kept whittling away at the tips of branches until it looked like it COULD have been shaped right for a Christmas tree.  What happens when you cut off the branch-tips of a tree that was just recently growing in the yard?  Sap drips....onto ornaments, the carpet or tree skirt, and onto the Christmas presents below. But the tree was free, from our own property, and the ornaments and strings of beads that we decorated it with made it beautiful.   I walked the yard in the drizzle yesterday, and came across one or two potentials.  The one in front of our dining room window is getting a bit tall, even though it will not reach full size for years and years.  It's shaped nicely at the top.  Not sure if I want to cut that one just yet, though.  That means putting time and money towards blinds or different curtains on the window if the tree is not shading it from the direct south-exposure sunlight. Then there's another one, growing too close to a very tall blue spruce.  The bottom branches of this half-grown tree are spindly, and it's flat on the side close to the mature tree.  The top 1/3 is just about right to fit up against a wall or window, with the fullness being on the "room-side" (the part that would be visible and decorated inside).  This one is growing in the front yard, where there is a LOT of clearing-out to be done in the spring.  Progress was made this year, but passing our house from the north on Greenwood road, our front yard still looks deserted, overgrown and unloved.   This tree could be the one.  It has a bird-nest in it.  That's always a good sign, even in the years when we'd walk through someone else's Christmas tree farm. Others that I want to have cut down will have to wait.  For two of them, they are shielding the kitchen view from a haphazardly-overgrown area, full of blackberry bushes, a beautiful flowering-pear tree, garlic mustard, a huge lilac bush that is struggling to survive, a twig-of-an-oak-tree that I'm nursing along and cedar trees that aren't going to last much longer.  Jeff and I decided that we need to do some work back there  along the property line before we take out trees that provide a nicer view than what's behind them.  But when it's time to take them down, the vista from the kitchen could be lovely. We did discover that (under the power lines along the road) there had been 2 huge trees, maybe tamarac or maple, whose stumps are still visible in among the weedy grass.  Too bad those are gone.  It seems that they were probably taken down years ago when the newer power lines were put in. Jeff suggested putting the $50 we would have spent for a tree grown by someone else towards the purchase of small trees to strategically place on the property, where we can give them the space to grow but also give ourselves a noise- and wind-break in just the right spots.  I like that idea! I do love trees, and I don't like to lose any that have value.  There are so MANY on this 2 acre parcel, though, and some have outgrown their spaces.  We'll proceed carefully and insightfully, putting in some trees when we take others out, filling in the property-line with evergreens in a double-row so that future Christmas trees can be harvested, and making sure to block out as much traffic-noise and winter-winds as we can by well-thought-out placement of new trees each spring.   And we have a week to decide if the tree in the front yard is the honored Christmas tree that will grace our living room this holiday season!  Photos to come..... Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/

Count your blessings

A thought for today comes from cleaning the living room.  Who knows how long it's been....?  But it had to be done to make way for a Christmas tree this weekend. I set my timer for 15 minutes so I wouldn't get distracted.  On the piano, someone had left one of my antique music hymnals open to "Count Your Many Blessings".  "OK", I thought, "I'll plunk out that song when this 15 minutes is done".  Too easy to get distracted if I sit down right now. The buzzer went off and I was in the middle of organizing a pile of curtains and mish-mash that was brought over from the Palatine house before the renters moved in (September-ish). Hmmm...curtain rods and nice (new!) white sheer curtains.  The sunroom on the street side of the garage has 3 walls of windows, why not hang some of these there.  Side trip! Distraction! Back in the house, I glanced out the window and liked how the curtains spiffed up the view of the sunroom.  I took 3 more curtain rods out and hung up some lace curtains that didn't really match the white sheers, but looked better than bare windows.  Second distraction. 15 more minutes of organizing, this time the DVD's and the video games.  "Count Your Many Blessings" caught my eye again and I started humming it to myself (one of my old-time favorites!) Buzzer went off, not quite done, so I finished what was probably another 10 or 20 minutes. I took piano lessons for 3 years, maybe from when I was 7 or 8 until 10 or 11 years old, rather half-heartedly towards the end of it because I really wanted to play flute or clarinet in band instead.  Probably wouldn't have done a good job at that, either, since I couldn't devote myself to one instrument already. Anyway, that leaves me (at almost 45 years old!) unable to fluently play anything on the piano.  Sad, but I don't need to play piano for anything, either. It didn't really matter that I couldn't play.  I plunked out the tune, getting the "flats" wrong all through the first time, playing only the treble cleff.  And got goose bumps as I sang it to myself. On a separate note (to tie this all together), we've been watching Survivor Philippines this season, and Jeremy and I have taken to eating dinner in front of the TV on Wednesdays and quoting characters that we don't like.  A favorite character from an 80's TV show is one of the contestants, and as an adult, she has been a fairly public Christian figure--Lisa Whelchel.  I don't expect that she'll win the million dollars, but I like to watch her strategy, her discovery of needing to be true to her deep-seated values.  I was waiting to see if her wish to share her faith would even be considered for airing on prime time.   This week, she is still playing strong and is in the final 6.  She and another contestant prayed together, not a "Please Lord, let me win" prayer, but a "We'd love it if you blessed this strategy, but not our will but Yours be done".  I'm not sure the other guy was whole-heartedly in the prayer with her---he was distracted by the huge ant crawling up the tree next to where they were sitting.  Anyway.  Their "will" wasn't "done", and the person they hoped to eliminate from the game stayed.  Another prayer and conversation:  "Show us the way to play this game fairly and to stay true to who we are, not sacrificing our integrity" (paraphrased).  I was impressed and thankful that CBS would choose to air that part of the interaction between players.  (They also aired the other players saying sarcastically "So now, what?  They're going to bond over Jesus?!!!")  But one lovely woman's faith in God shone through on prime time, sarcastic comments from other players notwithstanding.  Somehow it all connects in my mind, in one of those round-a-bout ways that probably makes no sense to anyone else.  I have no idea who left the book open to that song.  I haven't sat down at the piano at all in the year and a half that we've lived here.  The song called to me today, and here it is: COUNT YOUR MANY BLESSINGS, by Rev. J Oatman, Jr., 1924  (the name E.O. Excell also appears, as the "owner".  Not sure what that means) When upon life's billows you are tempest-tossed, When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost, Count your many blessings, name them one by one, And it will surprise you what the Lord has done. Count your blessings, name them one by one; Count your blessings, See what God hath done;  Count your blessings, name them one by one; Count your many blessings, see what God hath done. Are you ever burdened with a load of care? Does the cross seem heavy you are called to bear? Count your many blessings, every doubt will fly, And you will be singing as the days go by. When you look at others with their lands and gold, Think that Christ has promised you His wealth untold; Count your many blessings. Money cannot buy Your reward in heaven nor your home on high. So amid the conflict whether great or small, Do not be discouraged, God is over all; Count your many blessings, angels will attend; Help and comfort give you to your journey's end. Count your blessings, name them one by one; Count your blessings, see what God hath done;  Count your blessings, name them one by one; Count your many blessings, see what God hath done. Maybe that's my subconscious theme-song, just as much as the story The Country Mouse and the City Mouse defines my love of country-sides rather than big cities! Count your many blessings, see what God has done! Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/

Stuff to do

I'm a bit behind on getting things ready for the winter.  We had too many chickens this year (obvious!), plus we (I should say "I") should have waited to get turkeys, geese, ducks....we weren't set up for as many birds as there were, and the entire first floor of the barn is a pile of poop and straw and chicken dust.  Making progress, but slowly.... Already, in planning for next year, we'll do a few things differently. We're deciding not to have classrooms hatch our eggs next spring (we took back about a hundred chicks from various classrooms, who all had to be fed and cared for and kept in separate PVC pens with heat lamps, etc....).  I've already let the teachers know, and...this will also allow us to pare down the number of birds we have each year, in an attempt to eventually replace the whole flock with healthy birds.  That will require a bit of careful planning so as to avoid infecting any new birds--looking to totally replace the ones that have been sick in 2 or 3 years, by phasing out the current flock.   We'll probably order some meat birds, but not the ugly and unhealthy white ones.  There are a couple of "breeds" out there that do well on pasture but mature by 10 or 12 weeks (as opposed to feeding male classroom chicks for 6 months before they were big enough for the butcher).  But before we order them, we need to have one or 2 "chicken tractors" (movable pens for out in the pasture) made and ready to go.  No last-minute or after-the-fact scrambling to throw together something to contain them.  Lesson learned (and easily forgotten, I'm sure!) There needs to be some organization of supplies, and the birds need to be kept out of it.  The chickens like to fly up onto shelves or tables and poke around or lay their eggs (or poop on stuff), and then the clean chick feeders or lightbulbs or packets of medicine get lost in the straw bedding on the floor.  Right now, a telephone is tangled up on the floor under what should have been my work-table, because the chickens decided to roost on that table for a few weeks.  Out on the driveway, there are 2 tarps covered with all the poop-encrusted feeders, pans, waterers, buckets, you-name-it and it has poo on it.  Made a bit of progress in hosing things down and getting them a little cleaner, and now they need to be organized.  They will still need to be washed with bleach-water before we use them again, but they are SO much cleaner than they were....now to just organize them and keep them that way! The chickens need to be contained....we'll work on that this winter.  They do NOT need to have the run of the barn, and they actually don't even need to have the run of the whole pasture.  They absolutely do not need to squeeze through the fence or fly over it and dig in my flower gardens or eat our vegetable gardens.  The geese don't need to have free range to nibble holes in paper feed bags or to poke holes in the sides of alfalfa bales to eat the yummy little leaves.  There need to be certain areas where the birds are kept, and it needs to be conducive to egg-gathering and taking care of them WITHOUT the birds roosting wherever they feel like it.  I'm thinking of something like normal barn stalls, which I can let the chickens out of when I want to, but which will keep them snugly contained when I need them to stay put.  10x10 or 10x12, whatever fits nicely in the space that we have on either long side of the barn. Jeremy's bunny needs housing that is separate from the chickens, which means getting the blue garden shed (formerly known as the Barnevelder coop) ready during the course of the winter.  Right now it is in worse shape than the inside of the barn, because I KNEW that the BV chickens were moving out and I didn't keep up with their mess.  There is a resident chipmunk doing a good job of cleaning up all the bits of grain and feed that the Barnevelders wasted....  The bunny (now named "Thumper") is gorgeous, by the way. Very nice coloring, beautiful.  Just not as tame as James or Peach were.  Thumper is still living in Jeremy's room and we are battling to keep the rabbit-smell at bay. Success story:  The cow-shelter is working very well.  Jeff did a really nice job on it.  It's filled with a thick layer of straw, and I started giving the cows their daily ration of hay in the back corner of the new shelter instead of inside their barn area.  They hang out in the shelter, I shut the barn door, and the straw on the floor of the barn doesn't need to be shoveled out every stinking morning before milking.  VERY nice! Another unexpected success, if you can call it that:  We were at the feed store back in September, and a man behind us asked if we were a farm family.  He told us that he was selling his 40 acre farm, and had all kinds of stuff we might be interested in.  I would not have followed him from the store to his farm if Michael and Jeremy had not been with me at the time.  He proceeded to GIVE us lots of chicken stuff, pig feed-pans, etc, etc, etc.  I bought a huge and almost-new livestock watering tank for $40 (the hose had to run for over half an hour to fill it), Michael bought a bigger cage for Rocky (who doesn't like it), I got a short watering tank for $20 that the geese have been bathing in (the reason I got it, so there's a success!), AND....Jeremy got a few fairly large bird cages that can be re-used for bunny cages, come spring.  Also, Jeremy was able to enjoy 5 or 6 riding lessons for free, because that was the tradition at the man's farm before the horses needed to be moved.   I'm not too worried about getting the work done inside the barn.  It happens when there's time, and today there WAS time.  5 wheelbarrows-full of chicken-dust/manure/wasted-feed/litter are now out in the chicken-yard instead of in the barn.  It will get rained on, scratched through, eaten by worms, and become soil in about a year.  3 PVC and netting pens that were in various states of disarray (still set up from spring!) are now dismantled and organized, with the ripped-up netting in the trash.  Numerous feed sacks that were just lying in the chicken-litter are now picked up and in the trash, rather than being clutter. Progress is being made, even if it IS rather slow.   A different topic:  I heard from Lucy's new owners.  He told a funny story.  Lucy is the only cow there, but they have a small herd of milk-goats.  Lucy was outside, and they let the 4 nanny-goats in the pasture with her.  Lucy wanted to be friendly and came to sniff noses with them, but the goats turned and ran to the far corner of the pasture.  Lucy kicked up her heels and apparently did her goofy run, with the terrified goats fleeing from her.  Andrew said it was as if Lucy was trying to ask them "What EXACTLY are WE running from?!!!!" Poor Lu, she didn't know that the goats were running from HER!  She'll have to approach them in a bit less confident manner the next time.  ;)  Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/

Chicago outing

We spent one night away from the farm this past weekend.  We moved here more than 18 months ago.  It was my first night away since we got the cows in January, maybe even longer. Excerpt (from the Little Golden Books version of The Country Mouse and the City Mouse): "Oh Annie (said the city mouse), won't you leave this dull country life behind and come to the city with me?"  "My, it does sound tempting," said Annie. Our daughter set it up:  An overnight stay at the Radisson in downtown Chicago, a walking tour to the German Christmas market, a walking tour of the Lincoln Park Zoolights, a few train and bus rides, a small tour of her new apartment.  It was very nice, even though the FARM was at the back of my mind the whole time.   I left the poultry shut up in the barn.  They can survive without free ranging for 24 hours. They had extra feed and extra water dishes set out.  Easy to leave them. I left Ruby the half-grown calf to nurse on her mama without scheduling anyone to come and milk Bessie on Sunday morning.  Ruby did a fine job of emptying that udder and drinking the extra 1 1/2 gallons of milk that would normally have gone into our refrigerator after milking.  Pretty easy to leave them, knowing that Bessie didn't need to be milked by a human..... A friend came to let the dogs out during the 12 hours that no-one was home (Michael was home late on Saturday night to take over).  Rocky was no problem.  Contrary to how huskies are SUPPOSED to behave, he is a furry bundle of adoration when someone comes into the house.  Shadow was the problem and refused to let our friend take her outside, but forlornly took bread-cubes from her in the kitchen instead.  (Any dog that is "mine" tends to brood and pout when I'm gone).  Knowing that the dogs were taken care of, not too difficult to leave them. The farm was fine, even though I wasn't here to efficiently run and oversee every detail for 24+ hours.  Imagine that! Meanwhile, in Chicago: The German market was so packed that we forced our way through the crowd just once before unanimously voting to move on.  The 5 of us had been looking forward to choosing a Christmas ornament for ourselves, but that idea was quickly replaced with running full speed away from the crushing weight of too many people in one small courtyard. Excerpt:  Annie rode off to the city with her friend.  Honk!  Honk!  Beep!  Beep!  Toot!  Toot!  "Please drive slowly," begged Annie.  "Can't hear a word," screamed Melissa.  "Isn't it marvelous fun?" We walked a LOT.  We took a train.  We walked some more.  We ate at an Indian restaurant on the walk from train station to zoo.   Excerpt:  "Melissa's home in the city was beautiful.  And such fun to explore!  Gaily they raced down the hall." The zoo lights were pretty, as usual.  Even more interesting was chuckling at the reaction of people, whether those people were oohing about lights that flashed in time with jazzy Christmas music or making incredulous comments about reptiles.  Carrie has had numerous different reptiles or snakes as pets, and it was funny to stand in front of the boa enclosure and listen to what people were saying, contrasted with the quiet and amused snorts that Carrie was making in response to non-reptile-loving people.  It was more amusing than usual to watch people who were watching sleeping gorillas or chimps, and how exciting that was (no movement, a big black lump, no interaction).  Maybe we're just spoiled with all of the wide-awake animals that greet us every day..... Excerpt:  Suddenly, WHOOF! barked a fierce, angry voice.  "Help! It's the dog!" squeaked Melissa.  And the two friends ran, shaking with fright.  They slammed the dining-room door, just in time.  The poor country mouse almost fainted with fear.  But Melissa said, "Oh, he chases me all the time. We took 2 buses.  One was awkward.  A large man was taking up the back row of 5 seats, sitting in the very center of the row. He seemed angry, and glared at anyone who chose to stand rather than scoot past him into the corner seats.  On one hand, there should have been no problem sitting next to him.  On the other, his mood was sending off icy vibes into the whole back area of the bus. We chose to stand.....and he glared at us. Back at the hotel, the room was very nice but also very black-and-white and modern.  I found that the pillows were too comfy, and ended up snuggling my head on a little throw-pillow that had a big more substance to it before I could drift off to sleep. In the morning, I had an overpowering urge to breathe something/ANYTHING other than the recycled and stale air of the hotel.  I slid the patio door open and tried not to look straight down (we were on the 15th floor--not high up by Chicago standards but still.....) The air was fresher than inside and there was a slight breeze.  That was nice.  I looked down at the very manicured dog-park and tried to imagine how many of our 2 acre farms could fit into the outline.  The park could have been 10 acres, maybe more.  It was perfect, every tree in place and pruned, no weeds, walkways slicing through at just the right location, a few dogs barking, a little Yorkie on a leash looking like a small dot criss-crossing the sidewalk..... Over to the left, a building was almost complete and a landscaping company was setting up the pool area.  They were literally BLOWING perfectly mixed soil from their landscaping dump-truck through a huge pipe and into the raised beds that would house perfectly manicured shrubs or perfectly chosen grasses to set the stage for a perfect day at the pool.  I was suddenly overwhelmed by how PERFECT everything was, nothing left to chance except maybe a tiny weed that hadn't been discovered yet.   I missed the farm and imagined just lying back in imperfect grass that had been nibbled too short by the ducks or scratched into oblivion by chickens (or pooped on by cows), and looking up into the crossed branches of trees that should probably be trimmed but were growing in a tangle instead. Jeff and I spent an hour or so on the relatively quiet and almost abandoned beach by Lake Michigan while we waited for Carrie, Chris and Jeremy to get moving, and talked about how to "get away" more often..... We all met at the Field Museum and checked out some new exhibits.  We checked out the hatching chicks and got caught up in watching one that was about to break free.  Chris tried to steer me past the "Farm Technology" but I was intrigued by all the descriptions of cow-milking and the video of a calf being born and the wall display of the stomachs of a cow.... Someone behind us was totally grossed out by the calf-video of birth, while all I could think was "Why does that calf need someone to deliver it?  It should have been fine on it's own!". (The video was from Trinity Oaks farm, where calves are delivered in glass-walled observatory/delivery rooms every 20 minutes for paying customers to watch).   I had a few precious moments with just Carrie (mother-daughter time is precious whenever it happens!) as the guys checked out the REAL technology display upstairs.   Excerpt:  The country mouse began to run.  "Annie, where are you going?"  called Melissa. "Home, to the country," squeaked Annie.  "Thank you for the very nice time! (Oh, help!)" We headed out, said goodbye to Carrie, and drove Chris back to college in DeKalb.  Jeff pointed out some historic brick farmhouses along the way back to Woodstock.  I watched all the dark, open farmfields roll by and realized that I'm probably spoiled for life--open farmland versus crowded/cement-encased city life?  I'll take the farmland any day! Excerpt:  The little mouse ran through the city.  She ran and ran and ran.  And she did not stop until she was safe in the quiet green country. Arriving home, what do you think I did first?  Checked on the animals.  They were all fine, except for needing some fresh water.  The concentrated smell of dogs was not pleasant in the kitchen, but....they were closed in there for nearly 2 days, with limited access to being outside.  Excusable. And what did I do next?  I poured myself a big glass of cold milk, and was very glad to be home!  ;) Excerpt:  That night the little mouse told her friends "I would rather lead a simple life....." Laura http://dykstrasfarm.blogspot.com/ The whole Country Mouse story, a favorite from my childhood: Annie Mouse lived quietly in the country.  One day her friend from the city came to visit her.  Annie was delighted.   "Melissa dear, welcome to the country!"  she said.  "Do come in!" Annie Mouse asked some friends in for lunch.  But Melissa did not eat one nibble of the meal that Annie proudly served.   "In the city I dine on spice cake and wine," said the city mouse, rather grandly. "In the city I have a machine that plays music, and I dance on a velvet carpet," said Melissa. "Oh, Annie, won't you leave this dull country life behind, and come to the city with me?" "My, it does sound tempting," said Annie. So Annie rode off to the city with her friend.  Honk! Honk! Beep! Beep! Toot! Toot!  "Please drive slowly," begged Annie. "Can't hear a word," screamed Melissa. "Isn't it marvelous fun?" Melissa's home in the city was beautiful.  And such fun to explore!  Gaily they raced down the hall. Suddenly, WHOOF! barked a fierce, angry voice. "Help! It's the dog!" squeaked Melissa. And the two friends ran, shaking with fright. They slammed the dining-room door, just in time.  The poor country mouse almost fainted with fear. But Melissa said, "Oh, he chases me all the time.  Come Annie, climb up on the table beside me.  Have you ever seen such food?" "Never!" gasped Annie, still shaking with fright. There were dainty bits of spice cake, and fine cheese, and even a drop of wine in the glasses. "Ooooh, I am seeing things!" squeaked Annie suddenly.  "I see a cat!" "It is a cat!" cried Melissa.  "Run, Run!" They slammed the living room door, just in time. "Oh" sobbed Annie.  "I have never been so frightened!" "Nonsense, you'll get used to it," said Melissa.  "There, I've put on the music machine.  Would you care to dance?" Suddenly the door flew open and there was a fearful noise. "It's the vacuum cleaner!" shrieked Melissa.  "Hold on to that curtain, Annie!  Hold tight, or the vacuum will gobble you up!" At last the dreadful machine left.  And the country mouse began to run. "Annie, where are you going?" called Melissa. "Home to the country," squeaked Annie.  "Goodbye, Melissa.  Thank-you for the very nice time.  Oh. Help! Oh! Oh! Oh!" The little mouse ran through the city.  She ran and ran and ran.  And she did not stop until she was safe in the quiet green country. That night she told her gentle friends, "I would rather lead a simple life than dine on riches, and live in fear."