Marmaduke, A Cow Leg, and Buzzards

                                           Little Ricky and Marmaduke checking out the cow leg.

Yesterday a friendly neighboring rancher brought a gift for Marmaduke.  One of the rancher's cows had gotten stuck in a feeding pen and by the time the vet got out and treated it and gave it meds it was to late.  It died.  But the vet said that the meat would not be good for human consumption due to the meds not making it through the body before death but it was okay to feed to the ranchers' dogs.   The rancher brought over a whole skinned cow leg as a treat for Marmaduke.  Oh, man! - I mean, oh, dog! was Marmaduke happy!  Well, as the cow leg lay in the field in front of our house we noticed buzzards began to gather in the sky.  Remember the old westerns when they showed the buzzards flying above an unknown something which would lead the riders to whatever it was they were looking for - well that was happening in front of our house.  Kind of spooky.  Every now and then one would land while Marmaduke wasn't guarding her cow leg and she would charge out and run the buzzard off.  This morning we noticed a small bloody skin scrape on Marmaduke's nose - maybe she got too close to a buzzard, or maybe something else came calling for the cow leg and she battled it off.  It will probably take her a week to finish off the cow leg.  Our country adventures continue.

The Tiller, Marmaduke, and A Good Neighbor

                                              Marmaduke wanting to play.

                                                       Marmaduke impeding progress.

                                                                  Progress.

Christmas Eve day Ricky decided it was time to begin tilling a garden spot for winter planting.  He had purchased a nice new big tiller and staked out a large plot.  Now we have always known that Marmaduke either loves or hates wheels.  When I roll my wagon she runs around the wheels like crazy, barking and growling.  When we roll the trash can to the end of the road she has a grand ole time.  So it should have been expected that she would go crazy over the motorized tiller.  She was so crazy that Ricky couldn't get his tilling done!  Finally Marmaduke had to go on the leash.  During Ricky's tilling one of our neighbors came over on his small tractor to spread our gravel, which had been pre-arranged.  He noticed Ricky out in the pasture tilling and said he could do that for him in less time with his "other" tractor and disc.  So when he was finished spreading gravel, he left and came back with his other equipment and made a few runs through the pasture and waa lah! we have a HUGE plot (about 3000 sq. ft) ready to prepare for gardening!  And to top it all off he wouldn't let us pay him anything - said we were his neighbors!

Christmas In The Camp

Sunday evening we had the wonderful pleasure of going through Christmas In The Camp.  It is a live nativity out in the woods in which we rode in a horse drawn benched trailer snuggled up to our loved ones with blankets in the dark night air.  It was a quiet evening with sounds of horses' clippity clopping and snorting, campfires crackling, Christmas songs and the Christmas story being sang and read as we follow a cowboy seeking the newborn Savior.  What a glorious and moving way to celebrate Christmas.  Back at our "camp", although all of our family Christmas decorations and some of the traditions will remain stored away as we continue to renovate, the Spirit of Christmas will be with us.  We celebrate Emmanuel, God with us.  Merry Christmas!

Gettin' Me Some Guinea

We took a trip out to a couple's, who have quickly become friends, home to see their goats and chickens.  We have entertained the idea of raising a few goats.  Goats seem to be very controversial farm animals.  I get such a varied reaction when I mention this idea.  "Meat goats are the only way to go."  "Milk goats are the easiest to raise."  "Oh, honey, you don't want to raise goats, get a cow."  "They are generally susceptible to infections."  "They take a lot of maintenance".  "They make wonderful farm pets".  Our new friends have raised up to 175 meat goats but now only keep 10 for freely roaming outdoor pets.  We're definitely planning to raise chickens and when I broach this subject with people it's usually a positive reaction such as "I raise chickens!"  Our new friends raise their beautiful chickens for the white, brown, green, blue, and pink eggs.  They sell them every Sunday to ladies at their church.  I imagine they're a hit around Easter.  The chickens also roam freely during the day with the goats.  They all go into their respective shed/house at night for protection - although he did say he shot a bobcat once coming down during the day for the chickens.  Anyway, also running free on the land were two lovely speckled guinea.  Not guinea pigs - guinea fowl.  We learned the guinea were fun and easy to raise, control fire ants and ticks on the property, and are good "watch dogs" alerting you to potential danger!  Since I've lived in Texas in the hot summer and experienced fire ant bites and their huge mounds in my yard - I'm gettin' me some guinea.  Since I've actually had a bloodsucking tick attached to my body - I'm gettin' me some guinea.  And, hey, since Marmaduke only barks at cats and coyote - guess I'm gettin' me some guinea. 

My Achy Breaky Heart

After twelve years I would think it would get easier.  But usually the week of, the day before, the day of, the loss of my baby girl I begin to crumble.  It has begun.  A terrible sadness, a flood of tears, a feeling of emptiness pervading my soul.   It's almost like my body even begins to remember the day.  It becomes physical.  An ache deep inside.  It is a hurt I cannot deny.  Mentally and psychologically I cannot talk myself into happiness these particular days.  Even as I count my blessings one by one the sadness doesn't go away.  So I, for a few days a year, will allow myself to give in to the sorrow.  Deep, deep sorrow.  And I will grieve once more.  For I know the grief process is a healing process.  December 14.  A day forever inscribed on my heart.

I Love Ricky, by Lucy

I love Ricky.  I love the man he is.  I love the man he has been in my life and the man he will become.  He has only exhibited selflessness and service, solidity and strength.  He faces each day with a grateful and giving heart.  He walks in integrity and truth.  He seeks God's will and His way.  He is sometimes (okay a lot of the time) silly and surprising.  And weird.  He makes me laugh.  And he is kind.  I love Ricky and he loves me, I know.


  

Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us.  Ephesians 3:20

Happy Feet

We have found that we need to outfit ourselves properly for our new Texas country environment.  The outer, under, and foot wear we have were perfect for the Colorado city summers and winters with snow, but not so much here.  Let's consider the foot wear - I have definitely found mine inappropriate.  Who knew my birkies wouldn't serve me well here?  They are my favorite shoe.  So supportive and comfortable.  We've been besties for a long time now.  My closet - or currently, unpacked, stored boxes - contains many versions of birkies.  In the Summer here they were fine -  except when working on the farm.  And now that cold, wet weather has arrived they are useless.  And the same goes for Crocs.  Yes, Crocs.  Catkid loves his Crocs.  He refuses to give them up.  And they are okay for the wet, but not the wet cold.  Anyway, I've begun my search for proper "on the farm" footwear for the family.  Recently I was introduced to muck boots.  They are for working in the muck.  And since much of our place has turned into muck with all of the recent rain, I'm very interested.  Apparently there are also the locally popular snake boots.  Maybe we should wear those out in the pasture?  Then there are riding and roping boots.  I'm not planning on doing any of that.  Work boots.  Yes, I'll work out here.  Steel toed boots - probably not.  Western boots I won't need.  Oh, my.  You know the saying - if Mom's not happy, nobody's happy.  Well, Mom's not happy unless her, and her family's feet are happy.  I'm on a quest for happy feet all around.

Fresh Poolfood

It has been raining a lot and we have pools, or gigantically humongous puddles, of water all around our house. We're in talks with a man to bring in a load of rock for placement in our low areas around the house as early as this week, but for now we have standing pools.  If you search awhile you'll find little frogs in the pools and mudbugs or crawfish crawling out of the mud.  We also have a pool in our back pasture.  Much bigger than the aforementioned puddles, but as pools around here go, not so big.  Not a swimming pool, but a pool for fishing, froggigging, and watering livestock/farm animals - when we acquire some.  The pool was almost dry when we arrived.  We had it dug out to increase its size and depth.  After several inches of rain recently it is filling up.   In West Texas, pools are known as tanks.  I believe up North they are referred to as ponds.  Apparently there is a whole science to maintaining a pool.  So far all we've learned is that we need to go out and shoot the turtles and snakes, which will also act as target practice.  They kill the fish.  We also know that a pool must have a gradual hill on one side, if you have livestock, so they can walk in and out of the pool.  This also prevents them from just "dropping" off the side of the pool into the water. Our pool has this.  I will be learning more about pools.

More pool-talk -  I'm hoping to find a frog gig.  Don't know if they make them anymore.  When I was young we would go froggigging around pools.   In the pitch dark, with flashlights, wearing wading boots that protected you from the water and snakes.  Of course when we'd spot a snake head we'd shoot it.  We'd bring the frogs back to the house in a tow sack, cut off the heads, skin and clean them, salt and batter them, and drop them into a hot frying pan of oil.  They'd jump just a little while cooking, but they were wonderful.  Talk about fresh poolfood.



(The top photo is before the rains.  The bottom, after. )

Piles and Eyesores

All weather conditions were good last evening to burn the burn pile.  If you're not from the country you may not know what a burn pile is so let me tell you.  It is a pile of stuff that needs burnin'.  We started one in the pasture in August because we begin generating a lot of non-household trash as the farmhouse renovation commenced.  Everyone out here in the country has piles.  Guess that didn't look quite right.  Everyone out here in the country creates burn piles.  Due to the drought last Summer there were statewide county burn bans.  We've recently had enough rain for the ban to be lifted and it was cloudy, humid, and still last night so we lit it.  The pile had grown to about eight feet tall and twelve feet around.  It was a biggy.  What happened was an old horse rancher came by yesterday to see if he might want to keep horses in our pasture.  I've decided I don't want to keep his horses.  Anyway, he saw our pile and said that it would be an excellent day to burn.  So we did.  It burned throughout the night and was smoldering this morning.  A couple of weekends ago a neighbor down the road lit about six or seven burn piles.  The only problem was the wind was kickin' and blowin', yea, straight toward our place.  I was grateful my metal box is basically air tight.  I just wouldn't let anyone come and go, opening the door and filling it with smoke.  That was NOT a good day to burn. Glad to see ours basically gone this morning.  It was getting to be an eyesore.  

Listen To The Falling Of The Gentle Rain and Here Comes The Sun

The scene out my window this morning is dark, gray, and cloudy.  There is a "wet" in the air.  There is a gentle, almost invisible, but I can hear it falling on my metal roof and it creates a calming rhythm for my day, rain.  Actually I think it was just the dripping trees.  Of course, there is also my daily ever changing backyard scape, for instance, the ladders, saw tables, sheets of galvanized corrugated tin, outdoor furniture, leaves, rope lights, five scampering kittens, and the Overgrown Puppy, we've decided to call Marmaduke*on the blog, frolicking with the scampering kittens, all of which are all wet.  The trees are changing their colors and beyond the fence into the pasture across the way I see the neighbor's two mules, a grey and a white, which he has offered to give us and we declined the offer.  But I digress.  The thoughts going through my head are "the four day rain outlook wasn't forecast to begin this a.m., but for this p.m.",  "now we can't work on the rabbit hutch project phase I"  and "it sure will be messy and icky when the man delivers the chicken coop" and "they won't be able to finish the roof phase I as planned".  Then as I write I see the sun beginning to shine through the clouds.  And suddenly I began to feel my emotional and mental "mode and mood" begin to change.  With the peaking sun and the promising light my vision and plan for the day takes a new shape.  The light brings me hope for better, brighter today.




 
*  Marmaduke isn't a great dane, she is a German Shepherd Malwa, who looks a lot like Marmaduke.

When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life."  John 8:12