My Name is Mud

There was all of one mud puddle on our entire property. It's measurements were approximately two by three feet. Who manages to fall in that particular location about three minutes before we are going to go to town with Meemaw? Gunther....of course. Who is not going to let his brother have all the muddy fun? Barrett, who jumps in the puddle immediately after Gunther falls in it.

Who is not amused? Me. Who documents the whole clusterf&%# ? Meemaw.

A Kid (goat babies, not redheaded midgets) Update

The kids are now two and a half weeks old. Daisy, the doe on the left, is doing well. She is a little on the wild side, though. She is making it increasingly difficult for me to catch her, and cuddle. I am trying to make friends with her via the sweet goodness of raisins.

Elliot, our little billy, is as sweet as honey. We made an unfortunate discovery last week. It seemed that Elliot had/has a broken rib. We weren't sure how it happened. We suspected that the other mama in the pen, Evey who is not his mama, may have hurt him. I have seen her head butt him to get him to go away. It was the next day that I realized that my theory was wrong. I caught Mack, our knucklehead puppy, dragging the billy out of the pen. I am sure that Mack was the one who hurt Elliot. For a short time I thought perhaps Elliot's injuries were more than he could recover from, and we would have to put him down. Not two hours later, he was hobbling around, nursing, and wagging his tail. He spends a lot of time resting now, but is doing well. We are hopeful that he will heal, and lead a happy life.

After the incident with the Mack and Elliot, I made the difficult decision to get Mack a new home. He was just not working out on our little acreage. He was a smart dog, who was bored and many a temptation (remember he murdered a chicken too). A neighbor of ours took him on. Mack will have a job running cattle, which I think will make him happy. The man who took him recently lost his wife, and a new dog to train is a welcome distraction. I can still go see Mack and give him cookies, but I don't have to worry about him threatening my other animals.

Think good thoughts for Elliot. He is still recovering.

Edit: Thanks to my mom for taking pictures of the goats.

You Can't Milk The Dog, Son

We are in milk! The twins are producing plenty of delicious milk for both the kids, and for our family. We began milking last week, and the girls have been agreeable about the whole thing. Jason even built a milkstand out of some miscellaneous lumber we had sitting around. I must say that milking would be much easier without a couple kids underfoot, but we manage to get it done.

Barrett has been intrigued by the whole process. I imagine a two year old must have a hard time understanding the what hell is going on. I am even struck by how weird it is if I think about it too much. Barrett kept calling the goats' teets "weenie". We corrected him "No, son, those are ninnies". The goats' "ninnies" look nothing like the ninnies he is familiar with (my own breasts)....thank the lawd. So, he thought we we were some sickos who like to put goats on a platform and yank on their weenies.

Dan, our fat coonhound, was the victim of Barrett's confusion. We caught him trying to milk Dan one day. Dan, as sweet as he is, only grumbled and shot Jason and I a look that said: "Please do something about this". We have since explained that Dan has a weenie not a ninny, and it does NOT produce milk. I think Barrett is still confused, but the world is a confusing place....what can you do?

Goat Dude

If you know this guy, tell him to e-mail me. A man that has a jacket commemorating his second place show-goat NEEDS to be my friend. He was spotted in Oklahoma according to People of Wal-mart. I would love to meet him, and his goat.
Thankyouverymuch.

So...I Took A Month Off

I abandoned the blogging world for a few weeks. What has been going on this month?
I would love to say that we went on vacation, or something fun. Nope. We were here on the acreage, doing the same stuff as always. I was just lacking motivation to write about it.
Notable events:
---We had two more births. They came as a total surprise. I knew that two of my goats were pregnant, but I figured that I had a few more weeks. I am an inexperienced goat OBGYN, and my EDD was OFF. Evey gave birth to a baby girl on Friday, February 26th to a baby girl, and Jeanette gave birth on Saturday, February 27th to a baby boy. Both kids, and their moms are thriving. We have named the girl Daisy and the boy Elliott.
---- I jabbed myself in the eye with a feed bag the other evening. I tore my cornea pretty bad. I am currently wearing a patch. I have heard all the pirate jokes, so save it.
----The boys have had approximately 869 baby fights. They break something every day.It's been the same ol' stuff.
----I still haven't replaced my funky USB cable for the camera (the boys did something to it), so no new pics. I am hoping my mom will bring her camera over to take some pictures of the new baby goats next week (Puhhhhlease, Ma!?), so I can show everybody.
---- We got ten new hens. They are all babies. I will give them names, and introduce them once I am fairly confident that they will survive....as chicks have a high mortality rate. The last thing I want to do is honor one of my friends by naming a chicken after her, only to have it die a day later. It's bad juju.\

That's about it! I have you missed you, my bloggy friends.

Mack- a-doodle

Mack the puppy has discontinued his interest in chickens. For that I am thankful. He is actually turning out to be a pleasant little dog. He IS a puppy which means that he is naturally annoying, but nothing can be done about that. We have concluded that he is most likely a burnese mountain dog/ australian shephard mutt. He greatly resembles a burnese mountain dog, though. We have no idea how big he'll get....but we are guessing he'll be around the sixty pound mark (God, don't let him be much bigger than that.) Not that I am adverse to big dogs. Dan is 103 pounds....the thing is that he doesn't move unless he WANTS to move. It can be a problem.

I had forgotten what it is like to have a dog who is THRILLED to be my companion. Jules is my dog, always will be my dog, but she has the attitude of a cat. "I'm going to be taking a nap in here. You can come pet me....or you can not. Doesn't matter." Dan is Jason's baby, he has been since day one. He likes me, but I can poop in my hat if Jason is around. Mack follows me...well, he follows me around like a puppy. I like his companionship. There is nothing like getting up to go to the bathroom at three in the morning and having a little dog be absoluteley ECSTATIC to see that you are up. "Hey! You are up! Yay! Wanna play? Wanna play? Wanna Play?"
My answer is usually: "GO LAY DOWN! You are going to wake a baby."

So....it seems that Mack has found his forever home here on Dammit Farms. He's an accidental acquisition....but so were my kids ;-)

Dammit Farm on Ice

Thursday, Day one of the ice storm.
9 a.m.--It's slick and icy, the freezing rain continues to fall.
10:20 a.m.---We still have power despite the 1/2 inch of ice coating the power lines. Jason falls off the back of his work truck while prepping the generator. He complains of a sore butt for the next several days.
12:00 p.m. We lose power. We suck it up, as it was expected. Hook the generator to the t.v. and the fridge. Life isn't bad.
7:00 p.m. Hallelujah!! The lights come back on.

Friday, Day two of the ice storm
I wake up, make breakfast, feed animals, blah, blah, blah
12:30 p.m.-- We lose power AGAIN.Meanwhile the snow is falling fast.
1:06 p.m.----I hear Jason scream and walk outside. He is laying by his truck."Did you fall again?"....."Yes!" he answers, a bit irritated....'cause why the hell else would he be laying in the snow? Jason will make noise about his sore behind, and this and that hurts and blah, blah, blah for the rest of the year.
2:00 p.m.----Jason has to go on a call. He takes his work truck, and thus the generator with him. I have to endure a few hours with the kids and no "t.t." as Barrett calls it. Oh...and might I mention that we have well water, which relies on an electric pump to make its way to our house. We have no running water....can't flush the toilet, or do anything.
5:00 p.m.----Jason shows up with a new propane tank. We have a winter wonderland cookout for supper, since we can't use the stove.
6:03 p.m. All of our firewood is frozen together, so Jason brings out the blow-torch to free them.
7:00 p.m.----Jason attempts to connect the generator to the main power input to our house. A neighbor comes to help. A few minutes later our satellite box starts smoking and popping. I frantically unplug everything in sight. I yell to Jason, who is still outside, "Smoke! bad! smoke!"
He turns off the generator. We decide to just stick with our lone chord powering the t.v. and the fridge.
7:45 p.m. We pack every container we have with snow, and bring it in the house to melt. This is how I will water my animals for the next several days.
9:45 p.m. Jason discovers that the chimney to our wood-burning stove (our primary source of heat) has several holes. He Tapes them together....no seriously.

Saturday, Day three of the end of the world as we know it

10:00 a.m.----We slide to town in our "winter chariot", the old Suburban. We must buy new pieces for our chimney. Seeing the damage firsthand does not make me feel positive about our electricity situation. Lines are broken everywhere, and some poles are splintered in the middle, and have fallen over.
1:30 pm.----We eat lunch while in town and try to forget about our troubles at home. I look longingly at the hotel across the street. I fantasize about a hot shower and cable.
3:00 p.m.---We are back on Dammit Farms. In the dark, and silence of snow and no electricity.....still.
4:25 p.m.---Jason talks to someone at the power company. We are given a quote of 7 to 10 days before get power back!!!! I about cry.

Sunday, Day four
12:00 p.m. We get power back! I try to make a a dent in Mount Laundry and Dishes. I make brownies to celebrate our electricity.
3:02 p.m.--- We lose power AGAIN.
3:15 p.m.----- I consider making a noose, but eat half the brownies instead. Fuggit.

Monday, DAY FRIGGIN FIVE
7:30 a.m.----Jason goes to work, leaving me and the boys without the generator. I spend all day trying to entertain them. I make soup on the wood-burning stove.
4:00 p.m.----We go to my mother in law's house, so that we can all bathe. Our cumulative stench was becoming ridiculous.

Tuesday, Day SIX.....Oh come the f&*% on!
8:00 a.m.---Jason leaves with the generator again. I am losing my mind. Barrett points at the t.v. several times during the day. "Ohhhh.....t.t."
9:20 a.m.---- I discover that if I collect the water from the gutters that I can use the water to flush the toilet.JOY!
3:00 p.m.----Jason comes home with a borrowed generator. I won't be left without electricity again.
5:15 p.m.----I come back from feeding the animals and......WE HAVE POWER. I frantically start doing laundry. I figure it will go out at any time.

Wednesday.....
As I type right now, I am still terrified that we will lose power again. I never knew how much running water, and a working oven meant to me until this week. Say a prayer, people. Say a prayer.

Here is a picture I stole off of photobucket that will give you an idea of what this storm did.

The Water Girl

Winter is here and our outside faucets have been temporarily decommissioned. We have had some bouts of CRAZY cold weather. We have gone days without breaking the freezing mark, and that is RARE in Oklahoma. Jason covered the outside faucets with a standard styrofoam cover, but the puppy ate it. Jason beat the puppy with it (no...not really. He just flailed the fragments of styrofoam around and yelled at the dog while doing so.) Jason bought yet another styrofoam faucet cover, and Mack ate it again. Jason bought yet another cover....and you can guess what happened. Finally the store was out of styrofoam covers, so Jason wrapped the spigot in insulation and taped an old paint bucket over it. Mack has yet to find a way to infiltrate this new-fangled system.

Anyway, our outside faucets are not easily used, so I have been filling the animals' water buckets in the bath tub and hauling them to the back of the property. Let me tell you, if you want some killer arm muscles, just lug around five gallon buckets of water. It's cheaper than a nautilus machine too. Sure you make think you are going to die for the first ten times that you do it, but then after that it isn't THAT bad. Don't f*%# with me......or any of those people you see in National Geographic carrying water up a rocky hillside on their head, or on one of those stick-on-the-back numbers. They will tear you up!

Go to "Funky Town" and Stay There

This weekend I went to lunch with my mother, and mother in law for their birthdays.One was born on the thirteenth of January 1951 and, the other on the fourteenth of January 1952. Sorry for disclosing your ages, ladies...but I think it is cool that you are exactly one year, and one day apart in age. We had a good time on our outing, and did a little shopping afterwards. My mother had Barrett in her cart. Barrett has figured that I am no fun on shopping trips, and my mother is a walking carnival. So...he chose to ride in my mom's cart.

By the time I got him back he reaked of cotton candy (I am being completely serious), and he had a new toy. This toy is a car that plays "Funky Town" over, and over, and over, as long as you know what button to press. It is not out of character for my mom to buy my kids toys. If she had ten dollars to her name, she would spend $9.89 on her grandkids.She is a generous lady, who loves her grandkids to no end.
The "funky town" car found it's way out of Barrett's reach by Sunday morning. Jason was this --- close to losing his mind. I could not blame him. I gave Barrett his obnoxious car back this morning. I am listening to "Funky Town" as I type.

Won't you take me to funky town?

RIP Jay Reatard

I heard some sad news that Jay Reatard, whose real name is Jimmy Lee Lindsey, passed away Monday night/ Tuesday morning. He was only twenty nine years old. I am a relatively new Jay Reatard fan. I fell in love with his 09 release, "Watch Me Fall", but he had been making music for over fourteen years. He apparently dropped out after the eighth grade and began sending demos to record companies. His music is not life-changing, or profound, but it makes you want to fling your body around like a maniac. Who doesn't like that? I'll miss you, Jay Reatard.

Electricity

We have been having some crazy weather here in Oklahoma. It has been frigid cold, and windy....really windy even for Oklahoma standards. We lost power several times over the holidays. Then we started having frequent power surges. One of these surges blew out my wireless router, so I am stuck in my bedroom with the modem. We realized that if we ran the dryer that the surges would stop. We were afraid to turn on our new t.v. otherwise. So...the dryer had to be running in order for us to watch the telly. I told my mother this and she laughed at me. She reminded me of the power system on "Green Acres" in which you could only use certain plugs at once. All the plugs had numbers, but the total of the numbers could never be more than seven. I love that my life is most accurately mirrored by "Green Acres". (eye roll)

The power company came out and said that there wasn't a problem on their end, and we needed to call an electrician. An electrician came out, and tightened a few wires. He said that there was nothing wrong on our end, and that we needed to call the power company. We had him put in a protective outlet for our pretty t.v. while he was here...just in case. Sometime between the electric company blaming our house and the electrician blaming the electric company, the power surges stopped. So...we will just cross our fingers and hope that our luck continues. We have to bury our beloved router, and we are out a few bucks for the electrician. We no longer have to run the dryer in order to watch television, and electrician confirmed that we weren't in danger of our house becoming the victim of an electrical fire. Good news...I guess.

I guess I'll have to get myself to Mr. Drucker's store to see if they have any wireless routers ;-)

Puppy Problems

You know the saying "No good deed goes unpunished"? Well, for me that seems to be true. Taking in Mack was something that we did only because we were certain that he would end up road kill if we didn't. We were not in the market for a puppy...actually I said that I would NEVER get another puppy...EVER. When a needy animal falls in my lap, I can't help but take them on.

Mack has had a rough time adjusting here. He lived in the wild with his mama without any boundaries or rules until the day Jason snatched him up. Despite his general destructiveness...and a few potty accidents we had been making progress with him. He was becoming more likable once my paper towel bill had gone down, and I wasn't having to yell "drop it" every three minutes.

Mack committed the ultimate of canine crimes, and killed a hen the other day. Most country dogs would receive a bullet to the head the second that this happened. Instead, Jason chased Mack around with the dead chicken and a large stick until we were certain that Mack would NEVER look at poultry again. Wrong. He was busted pestering another hen the next day. So, we are giving Mack one more chance before we find him another home. We are also eliminating his opportunity for poultry murder as much as we can.

Mack, I am rooting for you! Please act right, so we can keep you.