If you build it, they will come....

Today I HAD to build a milking stand for a nigerian dwarf goat. I found a plan online, then I went to the Home Depot and I bought lumber and screws.


Then I measured and asked my husband how to make the saw go. He suggested that he do the cutting.

Then I measured some more and he wandered off and I didn't want to wait, so I decided to cut. With the saw. Really, I have pictures.
So after he came in and chastised me about missing fingers and horrible disfigurements. I nodded and said things like, "Hmmm." and "Okay dear." and cut some more.
After which he came in, threw up his hands and then left me alone. Sooo, I measured and cut and drilled and used the instructions (except when they didn't make sense, and then I just looked at the picture)





And it actually started to look like what it was supposed to!



And then I finished it and am rather proud of myself.

Now all I need is a nigerian dwarf doe in milk, but I'm ready.

Smiles from the Farm,
Lisa

On a walk with Little Bud...

This morning after dropping Big Bud off at school we came home, ate breakfast, fed the beasties in the backyard and decided to go for a walk in the sunshine. After all it is 45 DEGREES today. Balmy.

First we saw ducks...


And the official sign of spring in Maine...

Then we saw the neighbor's horse...

Then these foot prints, they look like goat to me. Probably deer?

And then we saw this. There used to be a farm house here. A big white farm house with a porch and a HUGE red barn. Two years ago when I noticed that it had gone vacant I tracked down the owner and asked how much they wanted for it and they said they were not selling it, BECAUSE they were dividing all the land into to 2 and 4 acre lots for new homes and they didn't want the big white farm house to impede the development. But they did let me go inside and I can still see the beadboard cupboards and the mantle piece over the fireplace. I can still see the curved staircase and the little bedroom at the top of the stairs. I can still see how I would have decorated it and I can still see the glow in the December sky the night that the fire department burned it to the ground. It still breaks my heart. Sorry I couldn't save you old house.

We kept walking and saw Mr. M.'s cows...


and his pigs...



Then we saw this mad, ravenous squirrel...

We saw some dogs too, but they were mean so we decided not to take their picture.

All in all a lovely way to start the day!

Smiles from the farm,
Lisa

Carnivorous Goats

Did you know that goats eat cats?

and donkeys?

and...um...amoebas?
Oh wait, never mind they don't eat amoebas...
Well, ok yes they do...

Nice goats. It's such a lovely day. I let them out to frolic. and frolic some more...
I'm not sure what Jerry's doing in the back there, some sort of new dance I think...

And being such nice goats they would NOT try to get out of their fence. They will stay in the TWO acres that are fenced off just for them.
Why are there goats in the shed?
Back to the barn...
Back to Goat Jail until the snow melts and I can build a higher fence.

Bad goats.

Smiles from the farm,
Lisa

A work in progress...

I haven't painted in a while. So I decided to paint a Girl with a Bunny. I'll keep you apprised of her progress.

Some of my other paintings...


This was my first oil painting.



I could go on and on. I love to paint, though I'm not that great at it. I think if I did it more, I'd get better. There's just so much other stuff that I want to do and life is so damn short. Sigh...

Anyway...

Smiles from the Farm
Lisa

Farmin' ain't pretty...

Hope everyone had a great weekend. It was a busy one for us. We have a brand new baby in our family. My baby brother is a daddy! And no he's not Amish, he just marches to the beat of his own drummer and evidently neither of them have access to sharp implements such as razors.
As for the rest of the weekend, well you met Charles and you met Red. Well Charles is doing much better, thanks for asking.
Through my amazing powers of deduction I have pretty much figured out that the perpetrator of Charles' lost toe was Rosie. Rosie is a another rooster. Rosie was purchased as a hen, but upon her rather disappointing development as she got older, it was quite evident that Rosie is indeed a rooster.

I believe that in the spirit of Spring, young Charles' amorous feelings led him to frolic with one of the hens, which angered Evil Rosie, so he bit his toe off. Not acceptable. But even worse was on Sunday morning when I found dear old Red bleeding in the corner of the hen house (not ROOSTER house). Her foot was also cut, but nothing was missing. Rosie the beast commenced to pushing her out of the door and she was trying so very hard to get away from him. So the die was cast. His fate was sealed. Ol' Rosie was banished from the hen house, but to what end you ask? Well this is a farm and I do need to be farmer like. So I did it. Well, ok no I didn't, but my husband did it. Rosie the Rooster will be no longer a perpetrator of domestic violence against Red or Charles or the Weird Chickens or the Young Ones,

Rosie the Rooster will be supper.

Which brings me to this question. How far removed are we from our food? It was hard to do this and I didn't even do it, my husband did. But I am cooking IT as we speak. Is it hard because we knew this chicken? This chicken had a name? I do know that if there were no choice, if we couldn't run to the store and buy a pale bird in plastic wrap for $5.00, I would have no conscience in this regard. Off with his head and no remourse, my kids need to eat. However, of course that's not the case. We can go to the market. It is hard to justify the taking of a life.

I relish the choices I have made to lead the life I lead. I am proud of my sufficiency and am grateful for the strengh it takes to be who I am. And sometimes I am ashamed of that very same thing.

Well enough of that... I need to make a pink quilt (would it be tacky to throw in a package of Daisy shavers?)

Smiles from the farm,
Lisa

Miss Priss...

This is Red...

No wait, THIS is Red...

She's, ummm how do I put this delicately? Old. Yup, she's old. I am thinking she's about three, maybe four years old. Which in hen years, is old. She hasn't laid an egg in over a year, but she's a good old bird so we keep her around. I mean look at that face. Ok, she's a bit scary in the morning but well I ain't Miss Mary Sunshine either.

Well Red has decided that she would like children. She has taken to laying on the Weird Chicken's eggs. The Weird Chicken is a Phoenix/Araucana cross that lays blue eggs. Have you read Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale? Well Red will almost lay on top of the Weird Chicken while she lays eggs and then push her off so she can sit on the eggs and then I come in and push her off and take the eggs. Vicious.

Well it looks like she finally got fed up with the cycle and managed to lay her own egg.


Kind of sad, isn't it?

Poor dear.