Thursday, February 23, 2006

trimming hooves

We trimmed hooves today. Winter was none to cooperative. But, it had to be done, her hooves were in awful shape and since she's less than 6 weeks from delivery, I wanted to get it done. She's always been cooperative, standing still, letting me put the halter on her, walking and standing where I want her to. She's always been easy to handle. Not today.

I think she was having some of those pregnancy hormones raging. Nope, she didn't want the halter. Nope, not going to walk over there, nope, not going to let me pick up her feet. Yep, she bit me on the butt.

It didn't hurt, but it was a pinch. And, in my opinion, very undignified. It's not like I like trimming hooves, it's not like it hurts her, it makes it easier for her to walk. But, those pregnancy hormones they do it to goats just like humans. The hooves got trimmed. My butt will recover. It just took longer than normal.

Actually, I don't mind trimming hooves. It reminds me of going with Daddy when he shoed horses. The smells are similar. The scent of manure and hooves is universal for all animals. And, for some odd reason, it comforting to me. It takes me home, to my childhood, to a time when just getting to go with Daddy was all that mattered. To a time when I felt oh-so-special. Maybe I do like trimming hooves after all.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

that stinky potato smell

For 4 days, we've had a nasty smell in the basement. It smelled like a rotton potato. Since the few remaining home-grown potatos were soft and beginning to go bad, I assumed that they were the culprit. We tossed them all on Monday night. Took them out to the compost. But the smell remained.

I reassured Kev that the smell would go away in a couple of days. I sprayed with Lysol and went on my merry way. But the smell didn't go away.

Last night, I told Kev that I'd move everything on Saturday and see where that rotton potato was and get rid of it once and for all.

This morning, being the good husband he is, Kevin went downstairs to get some pork chops out for supper. He came upstairs yelling "Shelly, come here, you've got to see this, I found it!"

Thinking that the dogs were doing something funny, or the goats were being silly, or maybe it was snowing really hard, I went to the kitchen.

"I found it!" "See this, someone forgot to put it back into the freezer, look."

Recognizing his old lunchbox cooler, I looked. Moldy perch, nasty looking liver and gizzards.

The culprit.

It wasn't a nasty potato, it was nasty, moldy, perch and rotton liver.

You see, I had cleaned out the freezer and forgot to put back the cooler with fish bait in it. We threw away innocent potatos.

Now, my whole house smells like nasty moldy "stuff." And now, that smell and taste are in my mouth.

Ick.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

I now have the most sophisticated wallpaper on my desktop. It's just classy. It's a lovely illustration of my favorite cartoon character, Garfield, with his buddy Odie. Both are making faces at me (the viewer) and Garfield has his finger up his nose.

Yep, sophistication at its finest.

Get your own at http://www.garfield.com

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

[A is for age:] - 42
[B is for booze of choice:] - Mikes Hard Cranberry
[C is for career:] - Library Director of 2 year college
[D is for your dad's name:] - Harry Eugene
[E is for essential items to bring to a party:] - DH?
[F is for favorite song at the moment:] - Boondocks by Little Big Town
[G is for favorite game:] - Spades
[H is for hometown:] - Englewood KS, population <100
[I is for instruments you play:] - Trombone
[J is for jam or jelly you like:] - Sandhill Plum
[K is for kids?] - Andy and Kat
[L is for living arrangements:] - "Farm" house on 9 acres
[M is for mum's name:] - Carol
[N is for name of your crush ] - Sam Elliott
[O is for overnight hospital stays] - 5 - Birth of both kids, emergency appendectomy, and two nights with Andy
[P is for phobias:] - spiders
[R is for relationship that lasted the longest] - 16+ years with husband
[S is for sexual preference:] - often
[T is for time you wake up:] - 6:30 during the week, 7:30 weekends
[U is for underwear:] - Formfit string bikini
[V is for vegetable you love:] - broccali
[W is for weekend plans:] - CM workshop, 4-H Archery
[X is for x-rays you've had:] - when my appendix was questionable and my foot
[Y is for yummy food you make:] - Enchalidas
Z is for zodiac sign:] - Aquarius

Heaven

Not many women can spend over 4 hours in a sporting goods store and not be bored. Saturday, needing to get away, we went on a road trip. Wound up 200 miles away, at Sidney, NE at the original Cabela's store. Heaven.

We looked at dehydrators, at bows, at releases, at jerkey guns and seasonings, at camo clothing at binoculars, at games, t-shirts, fish, at everything! Over 4 hours! Yes, we spent a bundle, but it was all stuff we needed. All stuff we wanted. Stuff we'll use over and over again.

Biggest items we got were the binoculars with digital camera (for me to take a picture of Big Boy next fall--right before I shoot him!) Camo insulated coveralls for Andy (men's size medium--that boy has got to slow down on the growing) Camo sunglasses for Kev (a suprise from me, cause he's wanted them for YEARS) and a fishing gameboy game for Miss Kat (a fishin gal, made her daddy's day.)

Now, I can tell you I had more fun in Cabela's than I ever would a mall. Malls---ick, ick, yuck. How many gals can honestly say that?

Friday, February 10, 2006

I miss Frannie

Yesterday was a pretty good day--until we got home.

When we got home, we found Emily and Midnight, our dogs, in the goat pen. They had gotten out of their pen. When Emily came running to us, her mouth was covered in blood. I quickly counted the chickens, all there. My second thought was that Emily hurt herself. She wouldn't come to me. My third thought was that she hurt one of the goats.

Turning, I saw that Winter was standing and talking to us from the corner. Frannie was sitting on the ground. Atypical behavior. Walking out to her, she "maaa-d" at me but didn't get up. She couldnt. One of her hind legs was all but gone. Both bones above the hock were exposed and broken. No flesh on her leg. Blood spurting.

Lynn had come out to the house as we got home, he had to pick something up. I called him over. We both agreed that we'd have to put Frannie down or she'd die a slow death. I went to get the pistol. Lynn said he's shoot her. By this time, she'd stood up and hobbled over to us. I think nerves had been severed, as she wasn't crying. Maybe she was in shock. Lynn put the gun to her head, fired and she dropped. Quick and merciful.

Wrong.

The .22 shells were hollow-points. Goats have very thick skulls. She started crying. Another shot. Then one through the eye. I was trying to get hold of our neighbors, as Bob is a cop and has heavier ammunition. I couldn't reach him. I finally did, after Fran has been suffering for at least 30 minutes. He came over and finished it. Finally.

Kevin got home right after we'd finished. He helped load Fran up, as Bob and Kim offered to dispose of the body for us. We had no where to put her.

Frannie was 6 weeks away from kidding. I was looking forward to the kidding and raising babies. Winter, Fran's daughter and companion is also pregnant. She was also starting to get very stressed. I called the owner of the livestock barn, to see if he might have a goat we could either buy or borrow. He did. Kev and I went to his house and brought home a nanny to help settle Winter down. We were so afraid she'd miscarry, as goats panic when alone.

Kevin chained Emily up. Outside. All night. We've mentioned to each other that we can't have livestock and a killer dog. I feel guilty because he has already had to give up one dog because of me. This would make 2. The goats are mine and Andy's. Kevin isn't a livestock man. I don't want to have to get rid of Emily, but I also don't want to have to get rid of our goats and chickens. I now suspect that Emily has killed many of my chickens and eaten the evidence while we've been gone. I'm so angry with Emily. How could she eat Frannie's leg. How could she do that wile Fran was alive? I hate Emily. I hate myself. I miss Fran.