Magic with Scissors, Shampoo, and a Shower

This is what happens when you wash your golden sheep.
Surprise!
Muffy is actually white.
I have my very own poodle with hooves.

Day One: Construction

Do you recall what the one thing was that would stop construction of the ramada structures I want for my milking area and cow shade? It's a four letter word...

RAIN!

Yeah, that's right.
I piled my kids in the truck to take them to school and lo and behold the sky was gray and filled with clouds. Soon the lightning started. The rain began to splat against my windshield and I kept praying it wouldn't hit the land. It looked clear way over there. But no. A hazy rain fog settled in and I just had this bad feeling that things weren't going to work out. It is Monday after all and a full moon. John called to let me know he had to pull the crew out since the lightning was so bad and they were working with a lot of steel. I was sad, but what could I do?

He also said that the tree limb we had previously thought would be out of the way was actually in the way.

They did manage to dig one hole.

They've marked spots for more holes.

Here is the auger they use to drill the holes.

Here is their nifty wheelbarrow and hose.

Since the crew was gone by the time I got there and I don't want there to be any more delays that I could possibly prevent, I decided to cut down that huge limb all by myself. I've used my chainsaw before although not many times, and I will admit that I'm a little bit afraid of it (Texas Chainsaw Massacre).

Here is the offending limb.

Here is my girlie generator.

Here is my girlie chainsaw. 

I started in on that limb. This little voice in the back of my head warned, "Make this first cut a good one because you might not get a second chance." However, I knew it would be cool to cut the limb in several smaller, more manageable pieces. So I lopped off a huge chunk. Satisfied with myself, I began my second cut, feeling quite confident in my chainsaw wielding abilities. Slow and steady, I patiently did the undercut and clink.

The chan came off the guide.

(Note to self: Do not ignore the voices in your head.)

DRAT!

I did not have the proper tool to undo the bolt and refasten the chain...

But not to worry...

Thanks to my late father-in-law, I have one of these.

I admit, I was having some anger management issues.
And I had a strong, sharp axe.

Wielding an axe is hard work.
I had to take a break to haul away the first massive part of the limb.

There was blood, sweat...
and more anger.
I do not have time for tears.

And so I chopped the heck out of that limb with my axe.
And I won.

And my anger was managed.

Muffy and DoeDoe

Saying Goodbye to Rocket

My test cow (aka Rocket the horse) has moved out. The two ramadas for the cow space and milking should be started tomorrow morning barring any rain. And I have two more sheep.

It all started when we went over to Angelica's house and helped move a couple corral panels to get ready for Rocket's move. I had asked to see the arena and the area where the horse would be staying.

Behind their house, next to the arena was a pen with wheels on it and two mixed breed sheep. One looked sort of like a Barbados with a bit of hair sheep in her as she had one fat dreadlock hanging down from the middle of her back. The other was a huge round ball of wool with hooves at the bottom and a spotted face. Not sure what she is, but she's definately a wool producer.

DoeDoe and Muffy

We later went to visit the landlord and asked about the sheep. He agreed to give them to me for free as well as their pen and a homeless chain link gate I can put to good use for a future pasture area. My plans of being able to rotate the goats and sheep are slowly getting along. I will need several more gates and a lot more rolls of wire fence and t-posts.

After the corral panels were in, Angelica quickly lassoed the sheep and we put them both in large dog carriers. The wool-ball barely fit inside. She was so big she filled in all the space and all we could see through the vent holes was globs of wool.

When we got them down the street to the ranch, we unloaded the non-wool lady first. Since we had her out I figured we might as well trim her hooves and her dreadlock. Then we put her in the old Milk Jail area. The wool-ball was entirely another story.

We lifted her dog carrier onto the little red wagon we have and wheeled her to Milk Jail. After setting the carrier on the ground, we hoped she'd just sort of come out on her own. She wouldn't budge. We tipped the carrier thinking she'd back out. No luck. So then Angelica took hold of the rear hooves and I grabbed the wool and we pulled and pushed and pulled and pushed. "Then I screamed. I see the head!" The wool-ball tumbled out. I congratulated Angelica for giving birth to a wool-ball and we both laughed. Farmer G was onhand to laugh at us too.

I got the scissors just to see if we really could get through that wool. I chopped and I chopped. Angelica was just dying to get a hold of the scissors so I relinquished my custody of them and that girl went to town!

Muffy before the Scissor Attack

Muffy during the massacre. It was like removing two sheep from her body!

Muffy after.
She needs a nice proper shave. We will have to consult someone
in 4-H that has real sheep clippers and knows what they're doing...

DoeDoe Smiling.
We can't be certain, but we think this sheep likes her new home.

Under Construction

I have 14 sixty pound bags of Quickrete in the bed of my truck. Why, you ask? I'm having a cow shade and a milking area shade built. That's right, I'm not building it, someone else is. Thank goodness!

It's still averaging 103 degrees during the day here and with humidity it's really wearing away my energy. But not to worry. I pretend I'm on a special diet plan called The Ranch Diet. Coupled with low calorie intake and heavy manual labor as well as sauna like temperatures, The Ranch Diet is sure to literally melt off any unwanted pounds you may be carrying around. I've melted off at least 25 already. Even though it wouldn't hurt me to melt off some more, I want the pros on my side this time.

The kits should be delivered this weekend and construction starts on Monday morning bright and early.

Whatever will it be like to milk in the rain beneath a roof (that's not a camper roof)? I can only imagine the luxury. Don't get me wrong; milking in the camper is entertaining, especially with no stanchion and children holding the grain bowl for the goats. But it's really not the most convenient location. Plus, the goats kind of like it in there and want to go exploring. The old Milk Jail worked all right, but my corrugated roof leaked and now that's a buck pen.

I've been busy cleaning out the designated area for the milking shade. Most days I'm dirt tired and properly melted, but I know in the end this is going to be SO worth all the effort. I figure it can be an extremely multipurpose structure. I can milk there, entertain ranch guests, have milking lessons, store hay on one side which will both block the sun and make hay delivery to the cow much easier, have a table and chairs for outdoor picnics, etc etc. Okay it's only a 12x12 but I can dream...

I promise to post more pictures as the construction gets going.

The Test Garden Take 2

The season has started to change and I am so looking forward to fall. Summer was a scorcher. It burned up all the tomato plants in the test garden and the zucchini there had made as much as it was going to make. This morning, I cleaned out the test garden and readied it for fall planting with the help of my trusty neighbor ranchhand.

After clearing out all the vines and dead plants and placing them in the compost pile, Angelica and I piled on some extra goat bedding. The bedding will, over time, decompose and create rich earth loaded with water absorbing humus. This was the main reason I wanted goats. They are my compost and fertilizer makers.

Farmer G and I planted garlic bulbs, dill, cabbage, okra, and onion seeds. The only remaining plants in the test garden from summer are the green chiles, a few basil bushes, and one cucumber vine that may or may not survive.

Next is the pumpkin patch which had really been planted way too early in the season. We harvested all the pie pumpkins and a couple of gourds from the vines. There are still some good vines left that I will mulch around and then set in some new seeds to try for pumpkins in October--perfect for Halloween carving.

I have an order in to Johnny's Seeds for larger jack-o-lantern size pumpkin seeds. The giant vines are still going, but I haven't seen any fruit on them yet. I'm still crossing my fingers we might get one massive monster to carve.

The pumpkin patch needs a better border. I have one determined hen that escapes the pen and I find her each morning turning the soil all around the patch and on the sides of every path, making a big ol' mess!

Look Who's All Grown Up

When I first saw Jorge as a baby next door, I actually wondered where the heck he came from. I knew Angelica had two does, but no one was sure that Pepper was pregnant. She hid him well until the day he popped out. He was a cute little fella and he grew up fast.

Jorge waiting for his pedicure.

I bought him because I felt sorry for him when I was having a particularly bad day. He was all alone and crying every time I drove by. It was pretty pitiful. When I got him over to the ranch, all the other goats took pleasure in wailing on the poor, little guy. He ended up living with the two ladies closest to his age and eventual grown size, Vanilla and Canella as well as all the sheep. Until the day Lucky the Ram decided he was the big boss and started battling with Jorge. I have been told sheep hit differently than goats and can kill a goat if they tag him just right. So, Jorge has been in solitary confinement in the back pen that adjoins the lady goats area. He has his own pallet mansion and never has to fight over food. The scenery is particularly nice if you're a male goat. He gets daily love and attention from me because I really can't resist his cuteness. He thrives on pets and scratches and conversations about how handsome he is.

Jorge checking out what he's got going on back there...

It was his turn today for a hoof trim this morning, so I led him from his pen to the stanchion. I have to take him through the area where the lady goats are. He waggled his tongue at them and made his special moaning noises. He's turning into a manly goat. If you've never been around male goats (bucks) here's something you should be aware of. They have a special scent that attracts the females and it's musky and strong. Farmer C calls it the "stench of awesomeness" and Jorge is starting to bear it. If you pet a buck, that scent gets in your skin and doesn't wash off very easily. It might well be with you through several hand washings. Most people find the stench of awesomeness offputting, especially on a hot summer day when it's overly ripe. The scent glands are located behind his horns. He always wants me to scratch him right there, too.

Bucks also do something else lovely to woo the ladies of their kind. They urinate on their faces, drink their pee, and curl their upper lip. Oh so attractive. It's a good thing he was bottle raised and super friendly, and that he loves attention and has puppy dog eyes of cuteness.

I have learned I have to be careful when I take him for leash walks as sometimes he gets excited and the stream just shoots willy-nilly all over the place. One learns to step aside quickly in such scenarios!

Not an udder.

He has not shown any signs of aggresiveness toward me or other people, but finally he's able to hold his own in the goat world. He stood up to Tsica this morning when I had to take him back to his area. The only other goat that doesn't take her bossiness is Mojo.

I guess this means everything he's got going on back there is in good working order so far.

The Test Cow

Test Cow

We had been searching for a cow and visited one place and emailed and asked questions of a lot of others. We considered a zebu, a miniature jersey, a dexter, and a dexter/mini-jersey cross. Most of the mini cows were far away and pretty darn expensive for us.

After a while, I kind of gave up on the whole crazy idea. My trusty ranchhand neighbor girl and I stacked the corral panels away for another far-off probably never to come day when cow dreams would begin again in earnest. And then, oddly enough, a cow found us...

We received an email from one of our restauarnt customers wanting to know if we were still searching for a family milk cow. Leery of a looming, giant cow of doom that could stare down at me and be a little scary I asked: what kind, how big, where at? Details. I needed to know more. But I wasn't getting my hopes up.

Turns out she is a Jersey.

Immediately I'm thinking EEK! HUGE COW! I don't know if I can handle a huge cow. When I was seven years old and fearless, yes, I could have. But not now that I'm all grown up and have more sense in my head.

We went to see her anyway.

It felt like fate, karma, the magic of the universe pulling together to bring us the cow we had longingly searched for. Happy, excited, and a little scared we piled into the truck and headed out for this new and wonderful adventure.


Until we got lost.

And lost again.



And even more lost....

We drove along a dirt utility road forever. We called the lady at least ten thousand times. She probably thought we were nuts. I can't blame her. The directions she gave me were very detailed. I can only blame myself and my loose interpretation of street names vs. real objects like Cattle Tanks. But I digress...

Frustrated, tired, fearful that this whole journey might be some sort of wild goose chase, we almost turned back and gave up. But the lady came to to find rescue us on her ATV and guided us back to the dirt road of destiny and straight to her home and many, many well-cared for animals. There were geese running free. I heard chickens. Goats! A bull, a Toggenburg buck. A child who shared her goat-kid with us. And cows. More than just one. But there in her own area was Gucci. She was um, kind of big. Not as big as the other enormously massive giganticly huge cows we had met before. She was quiet and minding her own business with her fly mask on to protect her secret identity.

We got to pet her, and rub her all over and talk to her. Gucci is soft. She was taken to the stanchion so we could see her damaged teat and inspect her and learn about her. My husband kept saying she's not that big. I agreed. She was a good size. Not a goat size, not a gigantic Holstein size. And then she took her fly mask off. And everyone said, "Aaaaaaaaw." And we all fell in love with her.

Gucci

And we want her to come live on our ranch.

She was born at a dairy and has one bad teat--much to our good fortune because that is how she was purchased by her current owners. Dairys cull animals who are not perfect for milking. A cow with three functioning teats is just fine for a home milker not interested in showing at fairs or anything like that.

First we have to get a nice spot all ready for her.

If you have read this blog a while you'll know I like to test things before I try for real. Rocket, the visiting horse, has agreed to be my test cow. Daily, she inspects the corral area for me and lets me know what needs to be trimmed and moved out of the way. She has shown me that the goats are good entertaining company next door and the water and food are located in a convenient area.

I need to reinforce the corral panels at their junctions with t-posts. (Got those today in the back of my truck). I also need to trim off some more mesquite limbs to make room for the coming cow hotel.

It's funny how we have had this property for several years now and I never noticed before how shady and tranquil this one spot is. Rocket the Test Cow has shown me at least three good lounging spots perfectly shrouded from the sun by mesquite trees. I hope Gucci will like it here.