Standing on the Edge

Today I stood on the edge of the USA. 

It's been a month since "my incident" - that's what we refer to it as around here - and things are looking up.

The Sunday after "my incident" I walked almost two miles.  From that point on, I began watching the quantity of my food intake.  The food I have been eating has been very good for me - just too much of it.  I like food, what can I say.  I made a batch of cookies for my daughter and only ate one.  I passed over donuts and cupcakes coworkers brought in to work.  I made 5 caramel chews (from Halloween) last 3 days!

I have been walking and cycling and being generally more active, slowly building up my stamina, hoping to get back to running like I used to.  I have lost 7 pounds and dropped a clothing size.  My blood pressure is nice and low.  Almost too low at times, for a girl who is used to being propelled by a compression engine. 

I would have sworn I did not feel bad before, but I feel so much better now I must have.  My attitude is better.  My energy level is better.  I spend less time on the sofa.

Today I walked about 4.5 miles at an average of about a 15 minute mile  (not fast, but a nice steady pace).  I even jogged or trotted for small intervals.  I made it to the edge of the USA, just 2 yards from Canadian soil, and turned around and came home.  When I walk from my house, this is the scenery.  You really can't beat that with a stick!

Also on the de-stressing front I have made a well thought-out decision about my goats.  They must go.  I find that dragging them or being pulled by them to and from the pasture twice a day is not a relaxing past time.  I often end up incredibly stressed over the process.  Saying things to them I wish I regretted but don't and then feeling guilty about it.  Goats pee and poop indiscrimently and are very dirty things.  The idea of turning them into milk goats and ending up with even more of the creatures, no matter how cute the babies are, sends shivers down my spine.

They deserve better.  They deserve to have an opportunity to have babies and eat too much and hang out with other goats.  They need to "be all they can be" and not get yelled at by me on a daily basis.

With this end in mind, we have found them a new home with a lovely young couple named Lissa and Jeff.  They promised not to eat them - although felt comfortable with telling us they might eat their offspring - which I am perfectly okay with.  They are going to start a dairy herd and these will be the founding members.  We still have Een and Twee until Jeff and Lissa get their pasture ready but soon we will be goatless.

Someday, when we have a different barn/pasture set up than we do now, I would like to try again.  Someday I would like to milk goats.  Someday I will.  Just not now.

Imaginary blogging

I recently had conversations with some friends who wondered why I had stopped blogging.  It seemed like such an odd question because I felt like I HAD been blogging.

But I hadn't.   I assured them both that the next post was coming and it was going to be very entertaining.  Let's hope I succeed!

My process for blogging goes something like this:

Something happens that is interesting and I decide I should blog about it.  Then I spend some time pushing words around in my head.  I think about what I want to say, how I want to say it and I ponder the clever and entertaining aspects because heaven forbid I should be boring!  When I'm done pushing the words around, I dig out my laptop (because it's really the only time it comes out of the cupboard anymore) and I plug it in (because the battery is completely fried and it wont work without it) and I start it up.  Then I must go through a gazillion updates, error messages and spontaneous reboots.  THEN I fight our lousy internet (ever hear of ClearWire?) and eventually I put all those words down in what I hope is the right order and push the publish button. Where upon I immediately think of more clever ways I could have said something.

It's exhausting really.

Totally by accident I have stumbled upon this new and better way to blog:

Something happens that is interesting and I decide I should blog about it.  Then I spend some time pushing words around in my head.  I think about what I want to say, how I want to say it and I ponder the clever and entertaining aspects because heaven forbid I should be boring!    Then I just forget to do the rest.  I think I I've blogged, I feel like I've blogged and I don't have the frustrations of the computer and I never worry that I have made a typo or wasn't as clever as I could have been.

Apparently this new system doesn't work for everyone.

The cliff notes version of the posts that I have penned in my head in the last few months include:

Alpaca Maintenance:

Toenail trimming turns tragic! Cadbury kicks, drives trimmers through Peters hand.  

Alpaca Shearer wanted:

Looking for someone to help us shear our girls.  Called Camelot farms.  No response.  Called Shearers are Us.  No response.  Called MoonShadow Farms - referred us to Camelot farms (gah!) and SumFunShearing.  No response from either.  again.  Contacted The Camel people.  No response.  Contacted a girl in Olympia.  No response.  

New Handler Syndrome

Chupa has it.  I am sad.  

Applied for a new job!

No response.

Drowning in Zucchini

Zucchini bread.  Zucchini stew.  Zucchini boats.  Zucchini chips.  Zucchini salad.  Zucchini Zucchini Zucchini. 

Goats are NOT us

Seeking loving family for two high-maintenance goats.  Must promise not to eat them.  If you don't PROMISE you can't have them but you can have some zucchini.

Sparky has a personal chef

My beloved pup is unwell.  It is hard for her to eat so I am her personal chef.  She get's cheese omelets.  Chicken, hot dogs, fried dog food (not a hit), cat food, ice cream, cheese, zucchini..

Going to College

Taking an online food preservation course.  Learning how to can and freeze and dehydrate.  Not only do I get college credit but it will certainly come in handy for the zucchini.

Chicken update

We now have a thriving population of 12 chickens ~ 10 hens and 2 roosters.  Loving them!  

B&B

Pondering opening a bed and breakfast.  We only have one room but I've found a great zucchini fritatta I could feed guests for breakfast.

Sightseeing in Seattle

How many activities can YOU cram into a day in Seattle?

Master Jack, Ruler of the Universe

My grandson.

Imaginary Blogging

This one.  Except this post actually made it to the blog.

If I had actually managed to get these typed up it would have been a lot of blogging.  It sure felt like a lot of blogging.  I shall endeavor to try harder to do ALL the steps in successfully publishing posts.  Wish me luck!

Goats in Coats

The temperature dipped last night.  Down to freezing at least and maybe a little lower. Brrr.

Last week when it was not that cold I took the goats out and Twee shivered and shook like crazy.  She was cold.  My goats are short haired creatures and they are still kinda young and I worry.  While I was standing out in the pasture with my chilly goats I whipped out my smart phone and Googled "Goat Coats."  Surprise Surprise, there are several goat coat makers out there.

Because I'm cheap, and aware that I may be just a tad, uh...odd, I did not order them.  But that didn't mean I didn't think about it.  A lot.  I Googled it a couple more times and found more sources and more information.  Apparently goats don't usually get cold.  They get their winter coats and they are just fine in normal winter weather.  Sick goats might need coats but not healthy goats.

Well... sick or not, my goats were cold!  Why would they shiver if they weren't?

This morning when I woke and there was ice on the ground and the rain that had accumulated in the last week was now a skating rink, I couldn't possibly trek my goats out of the warm barn out to the cold, freezing pasture.  I started Googling again.  This time I found a pattern.  A pattern for goat coats.  Now that appealed to my crafty side, my frugal side and the weird side that wanted to keep my goats warm.  (who knew I was a triangle??)

My goats are now styling like nobody's business!

Een says "Thanks for the style makeover!!  The "E" doesn't make me look fat does it?"

Twee says "Those "nehhhh-sayers" need to spend a day in 32 degree weather without any clothes on!"

The people that sold us the goats have mocked me a bit (one of the risks of posting pictures on Facebook).  I don't think it was very nice of them, and it bothers me.  I love my creatures and I care about them.  I worry that my dog feels bad when I pay more attention to the cats.  I worry that the alpacas think we don't love them if they don't get their favorite grain.  I worry that the chickens will get taken by hawks.  I want them all to be happy and think they are the luckiest creatures in the world to be here, in my care.

And I worry that the goats are cold.  So those mean people can go suck raw eggs.

I gotta come clean.

I'm absolutely loving having goats.  I have, indeed, become that crazy goat lady.  I'm a lost cause. In two short weeks I've taught my goats to come when I call.  They seem to love me back.  Peter says the sound of their bleats changes when they see me.  It's like they start hollering "Mom!!  Hey!! MOM!!!"

Een likes to nibble.  She even likes to nibble toes.  It tickles.  A lot.

Just for fun, we are babysitting a third goat, Een and Twee's sister/cousin.  She needs to be weaned and had no where to go while she gets use to her new diet.  So now we also have Sprout.  Three recently weaned kids means there is lots of milk.   A goat shop needs soap to sell and this gave me the opportunity to try my hand at making it.

I found a recipe for oatmeal and honey goats milk soap.  I've been wanting to make soap since I first dreamed of My Little Goat Shop.  I shopped second hand stores to find a used enamel pot and other equipment, I borrowed a food scale from the freighbor and I gathered the ingredients.

I figure my first batch of hand made soap cost about $50.00.  If I sell each bar for $3.00 I can actually make a profit.  Not a big profit but a profit none-the-less.

Part of soap making requires a lot of stirring.  A friend came over to help stir - with water (just water!) in hand.  It was hot and she had worked all day.  She was such a good sport.

I had built a mold out of wood and lined it with a black garbage bag.  Then I looked at the amount of soap in the pot and the huge size of the mold.  We decided my mold was not going to work - unless we wanted 1/4 inch bars of soap... so we scrambled for a smaller container and lined it with a Dead Frog Brewery bag.

Then we poured the soap into the mold.

By nightfall the soap had gotten quite firm.

Today I cut it into bars and now I have to wait and let it cure for 3 to 6 weeks.  I don't do wait well - but if I don't wait the lye in the soap will eat my face off.  No one wants that.  Ouch.

Hippy Dippy Earth Mother

Today was my second day off in a row.  Yesterday I spent recuperating from a week-long vacation coverage and hanging with the kids.  I downloaded a couple books - one on goats and one fiction book and I took my iPad out to the blackberries and read, and played with goats, alpacas and dog.  It was lovely.

Today I worked toward becoming a hippy-dippy-earth-mother.  I made two loaves of bread.  I was testing bread machines.  The machine on the right is mine, the one on the left is my mother-in-law's. I used the exact same recipe and ingredients.  It appears her bread machine does a better job.  Now I can blame all my failed loaves of bread on the machine. Yay.

I also went to the grocery store.  I looked at pork sausage and was utterly appalled at the ingredients list.  Corn Syrup? Dextrose?  BHA??  Propyl Gallate??  What the heck!?!?

Since I have my brand new meat grinder attachment I decided to try my hand at making my very own sausage.  I bought a big "family pack" of pork chops and divvied it up into portions.  Some pork chops I left as pork chops - but the rest I ground up.  Then I added onion, garlic, pepper, chili powder, kosher salt, thyme and a few other ingredients.  All things I know how to pronounce.  I ran it through the grinder a few more times and produced a fine home made pork sausage.  I'm quite pleased with myself.  

The goats are doing well.  They explored their future pasture today.  Eventually they will be hanging with the alpacas in their pasture, but right now the alpacas are very curious and very big and scary to little baby goats.  That meant the goats got to play awhile with out the alpacas.  They ran and jumped and spun and had a ball.  

Just to make you jealous, here is a glimpse into my new morning routine:

My little GOAT shop

Just to get it out of the way - my new meat grinder, Kitchenaid attachment arrived.  I shall never buy ground beef again!  The process was efficient and non-revulsive and the end product was far better in texture, fat content and possible mystery ingredients than anything you can buy.

Now!  To the real story!  A couple weeks, while I was at work, Peter had gone to visit some friends of ours,  Angela and Mark, the people we got Chupa and Cadbury from.  The very people that had the two baby goats I was trying not to fall in love with.  He came home with 6 Muscovy ducklings and 2 goslings.  Because you can never have too many ducks and geese!

Coincidentally, that very afternoon Angela posted on Facebook that she had sold the two baby goats.  I told Peter and said it was just as well.  I wasn't ready for goats and then I laughed and said, "YOU didn't buy them did you?"  He looked me straight in the eyes and said:  "No."  I was actually fine with someone else buying them because I'm NOT ready for goats and if they found a good home somewhere then I didn't have to work so hard not to get them.

Fast forward to yesterday.  I was doing my job, putting mail in a neighborhood mail box, while the people in the house right in front of the box were unceremoniously ripping out about 6 feet of very crowded iris and dumping in the garden recycle box.  In horror I asked why and was told the owner just didn't like iris.  Crazy I'm telling you!  I love iris. They are some of my favorite spring flowers.  I was told I could have them and I made arrangements to come back after work to fetch them.

When I got home from work I went in search of Peter so he could go with me to retrieve my salvaged flowers.  I wasn't sure where to start.  We do have acreage and he could be hiding in a thousand different places.  As I cast my glance northward I saw Peter's mother traipsing across the tundra toward the Alpaca pasture.  She never goes out there.  There had to be a reason, most likely in my mind was that she TOO was looking for Peter and had probably spotted him.  So I followed her.  As I rounded the bend by the blackberries there were Peter and his mom watching  Een (Ayn) and Twee (Tway) feast on the blackberries.  He HAD bought them.  He HAD lied to me about it.  Hmm... now I have to be suspicious of  the things he tells me.

Hey!  Are you our new mom?

Goats like to climb on things

Chupa has to investigate her new neighbors

Een and Twee are LaMancha/Boer crosses and are about 3 months old.  They are not fiber goats.  I have alpaca for fiber.  These are going to be milk goats. LaMancha goats are easy to pick out because they have tiny little ears. Boer goats are often meat goats - but we will NOT be eating these goats or any of their offspring.  Sometime this winter we will send the girls back to Angela and Mark's for a "date night" with their little buck, Caspar the friendly goat - then about 5 months after that we'll have even MORE goats.  Sigh.

Things are coming together...

 

Say Cheese!

The lovely people that hooked us up with Cadbury and Chupa have goats.  And their goats had kids.  Two beautiful little twin girls.

For lack of anything better they have been dubbed One and Two.  Two has the black stripe down her back. We went to visit them on Saturday and of course, I fell in love.  They bounce and they play and oh my they are cute little things.  Angela said that as cute as they are, they really don't want to keep the goats.  Mostly they wanted to get their goats milking.  They certainly succeeded at that because they sent me home with a quart of fresh goat milk.

I made cheese.  yummm..

The worst/best part of all this is that it has fueled my little goat shop dreams all over again.  I really like alpacas, but I still think I would love goats - now I think that more than ever.  The worst/best part of THAT is that Angela wanted me to rename One and Two because she knows, in her heart, that I'll take them when they are ready to leave their mom and she thinks they should get their final names now.  I'm struggling with whether or not I should take these two darlings.  I want them.  Really bad.  But my reality is that I don't have a great set-up for alpacas and adding goats to the mix has the potential to just be a nightmare.

Despite the fact that I can't decide - I've named the kids Een and Twee.  (that is pronounced Ane and Tway)  That's Dutch for One and Two.

I have such problems.

No goats for me. Nope.

I just don’t have the stomach for it. I’ve been reading.

Yesterday I was convinced that Pygora goats were for me. They are a cross between a pygmy and an angora goat. They produce lovely fiber and adequate milk for a small operation. They are too small for meat goats and they are the friendliest and cutest of all goats.

Yesterday I was excited and looking forward to having these lovely little creatures in my life.

Today I read about kidding and weaning and girl goats vs. boy goats.

Today I read about vaccinations and diseases and feeding requirements.

Today I read about castration.

Today I have decided not to have goats.

Fair is fair - and kids are kids

I had the best time! All the animals... chickens, ducks, horses (HUGE and tiny), all the cows, and sheep and an adorable little donkey! All the booths! All the fair food! All the weird and freakish people (someone please explain to me the fashion statement of dirty cowboy boots and frilly little skirts.)

Are these not adorable? They were born just hours before this photo. These are Boer goats. For meat. (I shudder to think about it!). Unfortunately the dairy goats aren't going to be there until Wednesday. I might just have to go back. Even without dairy goats, I managed to still be enthralled with what they did have. It was a great time.

I'm looking forward to dragging Peter (kicking and screaming) to the fair next summer in Lynden.

Frittata anyone?

I got home from work today and the incubator had hit 125 degrees. We have been unable to get the temperature to stay steady. I think we cooked the poor things. I'm very sad. Should we try again? I don't know. I just dont know if I can stand the thought of additional failure here. Poor little chickies.

On a happier note, my friend Babs got 4 little goats. Dixie, Daisy, Dotty & Gigi. I'm so jealous. They are nubian pigmy goats and she brought them home in the back of her mini van. Aren't they cute? She says I can play with them whenever I want. They aren't for dairy though. I'm trying to convince her she should try it!

Knitted Goats

The story behind this is very long.. So I'll try to shorten it up.

Today at work I had to create a blog in order to accomplish some testing and troubleshooting regarding Social Networking.

At any rate.. the blog I created was just a test - a way to get into the blog software and I had free reign on it. I tried to create "Get My Goat" and was very dissapointed to find out that blog name was already taken. So I settled on "Knitted Goats."

This is where the visualization takes place. Knitted Goats. I tried to picture what a knitted goat might look like. A stuff toy popped into my head. But that wasn't right. So then I went off on a mental tangent about how I want to have cashmere goats so that I can "shave" them and make stuff out of their hair. But what if I do that and they get cold? I should take my wool, shaved from the goats and knit them sweaters!

Goats in sweaters. Can you picture it? I was giggling all afternoon because I just kept picturing goats in sweaters. hah!

Get real!

We had an utterly wonderful weekend! (you need to appreciate that I didn't say udderly). Jill and I went to Peters on Friday.

Saturday was wonderful. Usually it's all work.. but the weather wasn't cooperative for outside work. Instead, Peter made breakfast for us: bacon, shrimp omelet & wonderful, delicious coffee (I taught him how to make it a couple years ago). Then off we went to this delightful yarn & quilt store in Bellingham called "Lynda's."

Unfortunately Lynda is disposing of the yarn end of her business. Fortunately, all the knitting stuff, yarn included, was on close out. I scored. Unfortunately, I don't get paid until Monday and I've already spent next month's disposable income.

Barnes & Noble was our next stop, to get a book on spinning yarn. Kyle has access to gobs of raw wool (straight from the sheep) and he's going to bring me some tomorrow.

There is a goat farm not far from Lynden that sells cashmere goats so we HAD to make a stop there. I talked quite a bit with the owners of the farm. I'm sure they think I'm a complete goon from the city since I asked such stupid questions. I was standing there in inch-deep muck with high heels and actually asked "how often do you shave cashmere goats?" I new the word was shear. Honest I did. But "shave" came out of my mouth. The woman I was talking to looked at me and said, "Shear. we SHEAR goats." I wanted to crawl under the car, but the muck kept me from it. The adorable kid to the right was one of twins. He's for sale. Or will be in a few weeks. I realized I am SO not ready for goats! Plus, this kid will grow up to be a Boer goat - not the kind I'm looking for at all. Didn't stop me from falling in love though. He was very hungry and sucked on our fingers looking for satisfaction anywhere he could find it.

I think I've decided to start with two cashmere and two dairy goats. (breed of dairy goat as yet undecided). But my dose of reality is that I'm simply not ready for goats. Plus, there is no reason to jump right into the deep end of the goat pellet pool. I've decided to postpone the goat portion of my plan for a few months or maybe a year, until everything else is well settled. Goats are a HUGE responsibility and I'm not sure I want to jump immediately into that after I leave here. I will need to construct shelter and prepare pasture before getting them as well.

After the trip to the goats (and a nap) we actually did some work. My little house & garden here in Salem has an abundance of iris and strawberries. Peter has rescued at least 200 iris and over 100 strawberry plants from here. Saturday we potted strawberries.

But the day wasn't over yet. After tea with Peter's mom, we went to Aldergrove, BC for world famous 5-pin bowling. Peter won the first game. I slaughtered him on the second game. Not only did Jill get the first strike, she shared some of her personal issues with us during bowling. It was a very special family bonding time.

After bowling we drove around Aldergrove pointing out to Jill all the Canadian things. "Look Jill, Canadian Houses." "Look Jill, Canada has dogs!" "Look Jill, Tim Hortons!" We also stopped at an ice rink and watched some Canadian boys play hockey. "Look Jill, Canadian boys!" As Peter said, we "smelled" Canadian Hockey. Such fun.

And as always, it was very disappointing to have to get in the car and head home. I don't belong here. I belong there.

Goat Song: A Seasonal Life, A Short History of Herding, and the Art of Making Cheese

A loyal and faithful reader found this book and suggested it. It looks fascinating.. and it IS Christmas season... I'm just hinting.. :)

Speaking of Christmas season. Last night was the McKay High School Band concert. I have a video.

Tomorrow the McKay HS marching band is marching in Salem's Festival of Lights. The temperature has not been over 32 degrees here in a week (this morning it was 12). But fortunately it's been dry. Tomorrow it's supposed to start precipitating with freezing rain. Poor Jill. Poor Sharon and Peter who must go stand out there and watch. brrrrrrr..

There is a mathematical formula I'm working on.. If you take the ambient air temperature and divide it by the value assigned to the precipitation (freezing rain=2, snow=3, regular rain=1), minus the speed of the wind you come up with the temperature of my butt.

I'm figuring tomorrow my backside will be about (22/2)-5=6 degrees F. If they gave us relevant questions like this in high school algebra I probably would have gotten a better grade!

Inger, The Traveling Goat

At work today something didn't go entirely my way (what a surprise!!) - I was locked out of the very program I was supposed to be managing. I sent an email to Darryl and Lori asking them if this was their way of sugggesting I find new employment... The following electronic conversation ensued.

Darryl: It’s about time you retire and focus on goats, donchya think?
Me: yes.. it is. I think I shall name my first one Inger.
Lori: can I borrow Inger to come and mow my lawn?
Me: I’ve been reading.. Goats are browsers not grazers. Sorry. And… Inger will be living near the Canadian border… want to haul her that far?
Darryl: Is she a pigmy…can we fit her in the trunk?
Lori: We can write a book called ”Inger, the Traveling Goat” and write all about her experiences traveling from the Canadian border to Salem. Then, a movie can be made and then we can all retire!
Darryl: Kind of like the traveling guitar. We can send her on to someone else when we’re done with her. There could be a blog – in SharePoint, of course – where everyone who gets her can write about her experiences while “browsing” their lawn. She’d become the most famous goat in the world…even more famous than Dolly the Sheep.

The people I work with are so weird!