We love you, Gravy

Our dear Gravy dog, Gravy Boat, Boater, Giant Schnozz, Gravos Rancheros, had a stroke yesterday while we were at work. We had to put him down this morning.

We love you, Gravy. You were a good boy.

April 1, 1996 - April 3, 2010

The year in review

My, my, how the time flies. In a mere 4 1/2 hours (Pacific Time) we'll say goodbye to 2009 and hello to a brand new decade. The year has been quite an adventure for Paul and me. Here are some of the highlights:

• We said goodbye to our darling Maggie dog and our first flock of chickens


• We hatched our first ever chicks and got our first eggs from them


• I lost my job 1/1/09 due to layoff, and nearly at year-end, got a new one


• We showed our calves at two fairs and won our first ribbons


• We had a knockout vegetable garden and experienced canning for the first time


• We made a bunch of new friends through our cattle assocation and our Grange membership

Paul and I were independently doing our own things as single people in the first half of the 2000s, but the latter half saw us meet, date, marry, remodel a house and sell it, buy our home in the country and move, obtain our first flock of chickens and our first cattle, and welcome our first two calves into the world. Wow!

Tonight I am filled with awe for what has been (the good and the bad), and with hope for the coming year.

To you and yours, all of us at Skookumchuck Farm (two- and four-legged) wish you a safe, joyous, prosperous and Happy New Year!

Saying Goodbye

Maggie, 6/19/97-8/3/09

We love you and miss you already.

Of critters and veggies

My brain is filled with so much these days: hope for the future of our vegetable garden; wonder at the incubation and possible hatch of our next chicken flock; sorrow for the sudden and doom-laden illness of Paul's dog, Maggie; sluggishness from all this heat.

We have gotten a very late start on our vegetable garden this year. Last year we planted Memorial Day weekend and were largely unimpressed with our summer harvest; corn and cauliflower were nearly a total fail, tomatoes failed to ripen (except for those bountiful cherry tomatoes, bless their little red hearts), zucchini was a bomb (I know! How is that possible?!).

This year I was out of town the last weekend of May and we didn't get around to planting Memorial Day weekend, probably because the last frost didn't seem far enough behind us. Now I'm thinking it's probably a good thing we're behind, because Western Washington is at the end of a several-day massive heat wave, and I'm pretty sure tender seedlings couldn't have taken it. I made the probable mistake of accepting dug up strawberry and daylily plants from a neighbor and they're not looking so good. Paul got another yard and a half of mushroom compost last weekend and spent the hot evenings getting the raised beds under control. All we need to do now is buy our seeds and seedlings, decide where to put things, and plant! I have a dozen mixed tomato seedlings coming from a Tacoma friend tomorrow, and had to exercise some self control at the nursery today as the veggie starts looked fantastic. The veggie garden gives me hope, as does the thought of my 30 chicken eggs incubating a quarter mile away at a friend's house. Another six days and we'll hopefully have chicks...where did the time go??? We'll brood the babies in the insulated room in the garage, which will be a bit cooler than our inferno of a garage and will help me NOT have chicks in the house (yuck).

On the sadder side, Paul's dog, Maggie, a sweet nearly-12-year old brown mutt with a gray face and hangdog look, likely has a tumor in her bladder or elsewhere. She's going in for blood work and x-rays tomorrow morning. We had her at the vet's about a week ago and were treating her for a possible urinary tract infection, but instead of getting better on antibiotics, she got worse...much worse. She's now on pain medication three times per day to keep her comfortable and a little more mellow so she's not trying to pee every five minutes. She has occasional bursts of Maggie-ness, but overall she's gone downhill fast. I fear the end is imminent, but rather than assume the absolute worse from the get-go, we'll do the basic tests to see if there's anything we can actually treat that makes sense. It's very sad; she's lived a life of dog kennels and has only been indulged the last year, living here with us, up on the furniture, lazing outside in the grass, getting cookies daily and lots of love. Her dad, one of our other dogs, Gravy, also has a mass, diagnosed (vaguely) last year. A year ago we were told Maggie was a very "young eleven," while Gravy was a very "old twelve" who probably wouldn't make it to 14. Now they're both sick, and it feels very unfair. We'll do what we can for Maggs to keep her comfortable, knowing that we want to do right by her and not have her suffer.

I once read an essay in a farming magazine that folks who grow up on farms find the death of animals easier to swallow than those of us who didn't, and I can see the truth in that. Prior to last year I'd only ever lost two dogs, one when I was very young and the other after I'd moved away from home. In the past year I had to put my beloved Manx cat, Simon, to sleep after his lingering kidney failure (and my "city-folk" attempts to treat it, even when it was evident his daily IV fluids were no longer working), lost all my chickens in three bouts (one egg-bound, one disappeared, and then the murder of the rest of the flock), and now the mortality of Maggie and Gravy rears its head. I have no doubt this will be a hard time, but I also know I will get through it to the other side, and cannot imagine life without pets to love, even though they die. They each leave a mark on my life and in my heart that I would never replace, and, I believe, help me to love more deeply.

Chill Out

Yesterday was the first day of fall, and, remarkably, the weather reflected it perfectly! I'm used to coming home after work, throwing on a t-shirt and my hot pink faux Crocs, and making my way to the barn/paddock for cow combing and egg-gathering. Yesterday I did the same, but I was FREEZING! I gave the chickens some extra shavings to help generate more warmth and shut the barn window for the first time in three or more months. The cows can take it, and in fact probably like it. They were both spunky as ever, especially when Paul decided they needed a "treat" of a little grain. Sheesh, ever see a manic cow? Yeah, scary, as I'm sure you can determine. Paul shut himself in the enclosed barn stall by way of the sliding wooden door, and I swear Sheila was doing her best to open it with sheer brain power and will alone. She was truly stalking him.

The night was clear and by the time I headed out to retrieve Tom for the night (he has to sleep in the house at night...we don't want coyotes to get him), it was truly cold! I had to run in for my jacket.

This morning our outdoor thermometer read 32 degrees and there was some frost on the dog kennel and on my car. Amazing. I'm wearing my first sweater of the season, a yummy chocolate cashmere number. Warmth!

Now we just need to service the pellet stove so we can enjoy our dinner with the coziness of a fire! Fall is my favorite time of the year, and yes, I know that means rain...in fact, we're expecting rain tomorrow and Thursday. I don't care...I just got my new Mountain Hardwear jacket thanks to the warranty on my old one, so I say, "Bring it on!"

The Cows Came Home!

Rustler's Bridgit and Sheila of Valhalla, our two Scottish Highland cows, came home Saturday!

After picking up our borrowed stock trailer outside of Winlock, we made good time down to Yacolt to Rustler's Roost Ranch, where Tyler and his wife, Kateri had the girls ready to load in their corral. I marveled at the confidence and ease with which Kateri moved around the animals inside the corral, nothing between her and them except her Danner boots (logger-style; Paul was impressed) and a pair of heavy work gloves. It took a bit to get the girls loaded, and involved roping their horns (not lasso-style, just a large slipknot around both horns), and then winching them, more or less, into the trailer, using one of the window bars as a pulling point and little buckets of grain to make the whole deal sweeter. Bridgit let fly a hefty poop right next to Kateri in the trailer, thoroughly grossing her out (fun fact: they don't absorb water in their large intestines like most animals, so, er, I'm sure you can imagine what I'm implying). Once the girls were loaded, we discovered the Watson's had 1/4 of a beef for sale in the freezer, so we snapped that up (awesome deal, too, since the owner of the other 1/4 wanted mostly roasts...we have steaks galore!), and once we got that all buttoned up, we hit the road.

It was an easy trip back home, although Paul was nervous about knocking the girls over and winced with each bump in the road. They both opted to stand the entire trip. As slow as they were to load, they jumped right out of the trailer at our place and charged straight into the paddock. In no time they were muching away...in fact, they probably started working on the paddock's smaller apple tree within about 30 minutes of their arrival.

It's been fun to observe them. They LOVE the apple trees and have pretty much removed all the limbs on the one up to about nose-height. (Funny, since it's the place they like to hang when it's really sunny and hot, and the place they retreat to if nervous.) Sheila is pretty quick to herd Bridgit around; it's not always clear what the motivation is for that, although perhaps it's just a display of dominance. Sheila is, after all, lead cow, and nearly twice Bridgit's size. She also has a mighty rack. Her horns are graceful and a bit swoopy, and are probably three feet across from tip to tip. Bridgit's, meanwhile, curve up in a U-shape. Neither would have anything to do with us, that is until Paul thought to offer bread. I got Sheila's rough cow tongue half-way up my arm the first time I offered her a slice, and it gave me goosebumps. Bridgit could only stand back and watch, as there's no way Sheila would have tolerated sharing the attention or food.

We were told the best way to get to them is through a grain bucket, and that's no lie. Yesterday Paul loaded up on a bag of cattle feeder pellets (their grain "treat") among other things, so as soon as the heat dipped a bit (it was hotter than the hubs yesterday), we attempted our first "feed and comb" session. The minute Sheila saw that grain, disinterest turned to eagerness and she came right over to us/it. She is VERY pushy and strong, and nearly forced the bucket out of my hands by pushing down on it with her nose. Yikes. We were able to give her grain while combing and petting her. She is a big girl. I have a healthy respect for those horns. Granted, Scottish Highland are touted as mellow cattle, but given the width of her horns and the sheer size of her head, I'm positive at some point I'll end up with a horn-induced bruise, whether or not it's intentionally inflicted.

We weren't able to approach Bridgit. Even with Sheila occupied, she still hung back nervously. Paul put the other grain bucket on the ground and that did entice Bridgit, but the second Sheila noticed the second bucket and headed over, Bridgit wisely moved away. Tyler and Kateri said Sheila is a pig when it comes to attention and grain, and they weren't kidding. Sheila is most certainly pregnant, and not from her encounter with Tabor Thunder over the past month; she's visibly large around the middle. This will be her second calf, and if her girth is truly due to pregnancy, we can expect her to calve in November. Bridgit is so much smaller (and two years younger) than Sheila and hasn't calved before, so it's harder to tell whether she's pregnant. However, she was pasture-exposed to Tabor from November to February, so it's likely she is, in which case we can expect her calf between September and November.

The dogs are doing so much better with our new additions than we expected, although Honey has charged the gate a couple times (the water trough is close to the gate, which may not be a good thing, but it's as far as our hose will currently reach). The dogs won't be allowed in the paddock anymore; not only is it the cows' safety zone now, but given Honey's love of rolling in all things smelly (especially if it's from the hind end of some animal), it's just not a good idea. I've had to go into the paddock by myself a few times now to attend to the chickens and so far, so good. This morning both girls were grazing next to the chickens' outdoor run, meaning they couldn't see me coming in and out of the barn's front-facing door. I made sure to talk to them as a warning of my presence. I had to get a bowl of water for our isolated chicken (another story - our bottom-of-the-totem-pole Easter Egger hen has been in a large dog kennel for several days recuperating from vent-picking and growing some new feathers) and on my way back Sheila thought I had treats in the bowl and headed my way. I scurried into the barn and she lost interest. This will be an interesting adventure. I have to say, they sure look pretty out there behind our back yard!

Here are some photos of our new charges. Enjoy!

Sheila of Valhalla, 4-year old red cow

Rustler's Bridgit, 2-year old red heifer (I guess she does look a bit preggers in this photo)

This apple tree decimation
brought to you by Sheila

Bridgit, posing

Doggie jail (from left: Honey, Maggie, Gravy)

Weed

The end of Memorial Day Weekend finds Paul and me busy planting our garden(s). We headed "out town" early this morning for some breakfast, and then went the other direction for seeds and starts of various veggie treats, armed with the list of "wants" Paul wrote up first thing this morning.

Shopping for seeds is exhausting. We had to rush home and take a nap.

Later, I pulled myself together, pulled on my rubber boots, and headed out to the raised garden area with my plastic WaMu hand shovel (WhooHoo). Bless the former gardener on this property who decided to place weed cloth under each and every broken-concrete-lined garden bed. Bless them. Some of those weeds pull out like buttah', especially the alien plants that look like blue-green kale. I sat on my patoot for some of it, carefully weeding around the volunteer borage with the pretty blue flowers so as not to disturb "Dad's" bees pollinating away. (A neighbor, "Dad" - not his real name, I'm sure, but that's what the "Dad's Honey" sign says - raises honey bees and sells honey. I hope to see him at the farmer's market, which starts on 6/7. Until then, I'm keeping a respectful distance from the little buzzers as they do their work on my plants.) It's about 70 degrees outside and humid; the three dogs slept flat as can be on the grass in the backyard while I weeded. After almost two hours it was break time...angel food cake, vanilla ice cream and fresh strawberries, courtesy of my aunt and uncle, who visited and worked their butts off yesterday. (Thank you, Auntie and Ron!)

Speaking of weed...Tom, our white cat, helped himself to the bag of catnip in the pantry after Paul accidentally left the door open. I found him on the window sill of our office, covered in a mysterious dried plant material, looking blissed out. Once I saw the trail of catnip across the carpet and on the kitchen floor, I knew. Kitty's on weed. He couldn't be happier. (He'd tell you himself if he could type...he sure has a lot to say right now as he lays next to the computer monitor!)

Paul's up now and it's time to go back outside and get to the "real" work...planting the corn, beets, pumpkins (for me!), squash, pole beans, tomatoes, bell and banana peppers, cucumbers, broccoli and cauliflower we have. Fun! Here's hoping for a successful harvest in 50-110 days!

Welcome!

Hi, and welcome to my (first ever) blog!


When my husband and I moved from our busy South Tacoma corner lot home to our dream property in rural Tenino, Washington just over a month ago, I never thought I'd fall so in love with my new surroundings and the promise and peace this new life brings me. I decided I'd like to remember my daily musings and share them with family and friends, and so this blog was born.

Here are some topics I'm sure I'll post about as time goes on:

• The wild apple trees dotting our pasture.
• My first flock of chickens and the fabulous eggs they lay every day!
• The antics of our three dogs, his (Maggie and Gravy) and mine (Honey).
• The explorings of our two cats, Tom and Zoe (who until the past couple of weeks hadn't been outside since she was born to a stray momma cat ten years ago).
• Life and death on the farm...from the painful loss of my sweet old Manx cat, Simon, to the easier to take (why?) death of Buttless, my little tail-feather-missing, eggbound Easter Egger hen.
• Preparing and planting our first "real" garden together.
• What's new in my existing perennial bed and herb garden (every day brings a new surprise!).
• Discovering life and living in Tenino, Washington...a town with no stop lights (not even a blinking light!).

Enjoy!