The only thing I know for sure is that spring is coming. Regardless of how much snow is in my yard and continues to fall on it, spring is coming. Regardless of how much winter unpacks and makes itself at home, it's not staying.
The other day the sun was shining, but not in that freeze your eyeballs open kind of way, typical during winter in these parts, but in the wrap you in a warm blanket kind of way. For one day the temperature rose above freezing and we caught a glimpse of spring. For one day you could even smell it.
So despite the coop being buried under snow, I celebrated the day the best way I could.
I ordered my chickens.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
A bad day
When the radio alarm turned on yesterday morning and I heard the voices of the morning crew, my subconscious was waiting for them to announce that Misty's work is cancelled today. Of course that didn't happen. But I should have paid more heed to the warning.
Last Friday we brought our Chevy Equinox into the mechanic because it was over heating. For all the non-mechanics out there, it's never a good thing when your vehicle over heats when it's -10 degrees outside. They managed to fix what they thought was the problem (a broken dome gasket) and $1100 later, we were back on the road. Until Saturday, when it happened again.
Monday we dropped the truck off again and found out it's a broken head (or head gasket, I'm a non-mechanic type) and it would likely cost us another $1500 to fix. The only good thing to come off all this was that the dealership where we bought the truck (after some heated emails and inappropriate phone messages, which I'll save for another time) was going to fix it under warranty. Until we got the final word of that decision, I think I lost 10 lbs and gained a few grey hairs.
Without the truck, I was left to drive the Malibu. Our sweet little 2000 Malibu that has been slowly dying.
Back to yesterday morning. The kids got on the bus as usual and as I was eating my breakfast the phone rang. My babysitter, calling to let me know that her whole house is sick and she can't tend Owen. During the busiest time of the year, I'd have to rearrange work and be home for him. Inconvenient, but not the end of the world. After breakfast I pulled on my barn clothes to do chores on the way to work and the zipper in my jacket is breaks. Fantastic. It's cold. My coat is open. Great. But not the end of the world.
The barn is 1 km down the road. The driveway hadn't been plowed completely, but I thought I could get the car in to save me from walking the whole way. Anything to save time on my way to work. And this is when I realized I should have stayed in bed.
I got stuck. Very stuck. I've been stuck many times in my life, with cars and tractors and even my own two feet. I've never been stuck in snow like this. The car slid off the path, a path of ice covered in snow, and bottomed out. She wouldn't budge.
Our little Malibu we used to call Blue, who is now referred to affectionately as Old Blue, was purchased in 2003 after hurricane Juan crushed our car with two trees. I was 5 months pregnant for Owen. Owen will be 7 next week. We have never owned another car longer. She's been good to us.
The neighbour brought his tractor over to pull me out. He hooked the tow rope to the frame in the little hook spots that he's supposed to, I put the car in neutral and he gently pulled the rope tight and began to pull me out. Then I heard a crack, then I looked back and saw Old Blue's bumper being pulled down the driveway, while I sat in Old Blue, not moving. It was traumatic. I was beside myself. Hysterical. The car was just torn in two. Our only car was just torn in two. The bumper was still attached to the frame of the car. The frame was broken. Let this be a lesson in undercoating your cars.
Last Friday we brought our Chevy Equinox into the mechanic because it was over heating. For all the non-mechanics out there, it's never a good thing when your vehicle over heats when it's -10 degrees outside. They managed to fix what they thought was the problem (a broken dome gasket) and $1100 later, we were back on the road. Until Saturday, when it happened again.
Monday we dropped the truck off again and found out it's a broken head (or head gasket, I'm a non-mechanic type) and it would likely cost us another $1500 to fix. The only good thing to come off all this was that the dealership where we bought the truck (after some heated emails and inappropriate phone messages, which I'll save for another time) was going to fix it under warranty. Until we got the final word of that decision, I think I lost 10 lbs and gained a few grey hairs.
Without the truck, I was left to drive the Malibu. Our sweet little 2000 Malibu that has been slowly dying.
Back to yesterday morning. The kids got on the bus as usual and as I was eating my breakfast the phone rang. My babysitter, calling to let me know that her whole house is sick and she can't tend Owen. During the busiest time of the year, I'd have to rearrange work and be home for him. Inconvenient, but not the end of the world. After breakfast I pulled on my barn clothes to do chores on the way to work and the zipper in my jacket is breaks. Fantastic. It's cold. My coat is open. Great. But not the end of the world.
The barn is 1 km down the road. The driveway hadn't been plowed completely, but I thought I could get the car in to save me from walking the whole way. Anything to save time on my way to work. And this is when I realized I should have stayed in bed.
I got stuck. Very stuck. I've been stuck many times in my life, with cars and tractors and even my own two feet. I've never been stuck in snow like this. The car slid off the path, a path of ice covered in snow, and bottomed out. She wouldn't budge.
Our little Malibu we used to call Blue, who is now referred to affectionately as Old Blue, was purchased in 2003 after hurricane Juan crushed our car with two trees. I was 5 months pregnant for Owen. Owen will be 7 next week. We have never owned another car longer. She's been good to us.
The neighbour brought his tractor over to pull me out. He hooked the tow rope to the frame in the little hook spots that he's supposed to, I put the car in neutral and he gently pulled the rope tight and began to pull me out. Then I heard a crack, then I looked back and saw Old Blue's bumper being pulled down the driveway, while I sat in Old Blue, not moving. It was traumatic. I was beside myself. Hysterical. The car was just torn in two. Our only car was just torn in two. The bumper was still attached to the frame of the car. The frame was broken. Let this be a lesson in undercoating your cars.
There are a lot of funny things that race through your mind when put under stress. The first was that we should just put the bumper back on. With glue maybe. The second was that I was completely stranded and would surely die where I stood. What followed that was a mix of needing to get to work before I was late, fear of going bankrupt because we now had to replace the car, and wondering how on earth I was going to get the car unstuck now. I had no idea what to do. I don't think working every waking hour since January 2nd helped me handle the sudden stress.
Once calm (or at least not crying) and with Martin on his way home I called the salvage yard. Her funeral is today. I visited this morning and it was sad to see her. She deserved a better death than this, than my own stupidity. Left in a snow bank with her muffler showing, completely undignified.
It was a bad day to cap off a pretty stressful week. I should have seen the warnings. I should have just stayed in bed. Sorry girl.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Romance
Me: When is Valentines Day?
Mart: Hmm? I dunno. Monday I think.
Me: You don't know? How can you not know?
Mart: I don't know. I know it's the 14th. I think that's Monday.
Mart: Why do guys always have to know these things? Why can't women do stuff for men?
Me: Because it's important. Just like it's important that men know that their wives like daisies.
Me: And it's important men know which day their wives like to receive daisies most.
Mart: Hmm? I dunno. Monday I think.
Me: You don't know? How can you not know?
Mart: I don't know. I know it's the 14th. I think that's Monday.
Mart: Why do guys always have to know these things? Why can't women do stuff for men?
Me: Because it's important. Just like it's important that men know that their wives like daisies.
Me: And it's important men know which day their wives like to receive daisies most.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Two Crows Farm
There are bonuses to winter. For example, I can pull on my insulated coveralls over my pj's on weekends and go out to the barn. Another is that the poop is all frozen so it's not as smelly or dirty in the barn. The bad part of winter is not having a heated water bowl and having to chop ice out of the water buckets twice a day.
Last weekend we finally moved the animals 1 km down the road to the barn. We are borrowing a space in the neighbour's barn for the winter. Hopefully this is the only winter. This spring, plans are in the works to build our own. Crossing my fingers that it actually happens. There is government funding that will help with a big part of the bill. I am beyond excited, but force myself to be patient. There is currently 3 feet of snow on the ground that has no intention of going anywhere and the funding applications don't come out until May. I'm not going to be too excited until I see an approval letter in the mail.
We brought the cows down the road by tying them to the back of the tractor and walking. Smokey, who had been halter broke in the past, I thought would be fine. Toodles, who I didn't think had ever had a halter on, I was worried about. Xanadu, the calf, she was left loose to follow along. I wasn't concerned about her. She had two choices, follow or be left behind alone. Of course she followed her mamma like a good girl. What surprised me was that Smokey wouldn't walk. She's approximately 1800 lbs and wouldn't take a step. The tractor pulled, she slid behind, then fell. Legs splayed on the road. We had gone 500 ft and her hocks we skinned and bleeding from falling on the pavement. It's frustrating watching. All she had to do to relieve her discomfort, was to walk. Each time she fell, I loosened the ropes and gave her a rest. Unsure what we would do if she didn't walk. We couldn't drag her, we'd kill her. We couldn't let her keep falling, she'd hurt herself. Toodles in the mean time was tied next to Smokey, standing just as quiet as can be, without ever pulling her rope tight. You'd think she had been shown, she was so well halter broke. (She is now officially my favorite cow.) When we reached the farm next door, I'm not sure if Smokey could smell the other livestock or what, but she stood right up, shook her head and walked. The rest of the way was a breeze and thankfully she is no worse for wear, with no injuries other than skinned hocks.
I wasn't terribly worried about the walk, because I knew it would work, but it was a huge relief to have them inside and out of the wind and snow. The trip back in the spring? Well, I'll worry about that when the time comes. In the mean time, I will be putting a halter on Xanadu and teaching her how to walk, as she'll have to be tied next round.
A few years ago I would have thought it impossible to farm without machinery or a barn. But I guess where there is a will, there is a way. I've had to be resourceful and return favours with my time (which is worth more than money) but it's working. I have my cows.
The horse wouldn't let me catch him that day. He's in need of a lot of work. He's very herd bound and would prefer if I left him alone with his cows. The thing with him though, is that he's not mentally strong enough to be a herd leader. If he wants to go somewhere in the field, but he's afraid, he'll herd one of the cows and force them to come with him. He's severely claustrophobic (which stems from years of being trapped in a stall 24/7 and mistreated before we bought him) and is afraid of most things. So being in the barn is a bit of a mind blow for the guy. The space they are in is an open area, half enclosed and half outdoors. There is no reason he should feel the least bit confined or trapped, but he does. I'm not sure how to help him with this except to go back to the lessons of natural horsemanship and build his confidence with games and exercises.
I left him in the field and took the cows. If he didn't want to follow me, then he'd suffer the consequences and be left behind. He wanted to be a dink, so I said fine, have it your way. When I returned for him, he ran up to me in the field, placed his head in my lap. He didn't care, he'd follow me anywhere, so long as I didn't leave him alone. He has a strong dominant streak in him, being a stud for 3 or 4 years and that dominance and fight for leadership is a daily battle with us. He wants to be in control, but wants me (or the cows) to provide him with safety and comfort. In the animal world, you can't have it both ways. You follow or you lead. Poor guy is in constant struggle with himself.
We walked down to the barn. I had plans on riding him, but he worked himself into such a state he was covered in icicles from galloping through the snow banks and sweating. He's such a dink some days, but he's my special boy. There is no lack of personality. He is the furthest thing from a dead head quarter horse that you might mistake them for different species.
With everyone warm in the barn, I can wait for Toodles to calve. I'm not sure on her exact due date but some time in February is our best guess. Her calf will be the second born on our farm and will have a name beginning with the letter Y. Two Crows Farm is officially a member of the Canadian Limousin Association and has been given tattoo letters that represent our farm. If we choose to register our animals they will have the tattoo in the left ear beginning with MDC then the number they were born and the letter of the year. So Toodles' calf could be MDC 1Y. We chose the tattoo MDC because it is both Martin's initials and mine.
So the little girl that everyone thought was crazy for having a cow in her back yard, with no barn and no tractor, now has 2 cows, has sent 3 bulls/steer to market, fed 12 families, has had one calf born on the farm and awaits the second, with top of the line genetics and some pretty awesome cattle and plans to purchase two more. Hard to believe we had none of this two years ago.
Last weekend we finally moved the animals 1 km down the road to the barn. We are borrowing a space in the neighbour's barn for the winter. Hopefully this is the only winter. This spring, plans are in the works to build our own. Crossing my fingers that it actually happens. There is government funding that will help with a big part of the bill. I am beyond excited, but force myself to be patient. There is currently 3 feet of snow on the ground that has no intention of going anywhere and the funding applications don't come out until May. I'm not going to be too excited until I see an approval letter in the mail.
We brought the cows down the road by tying them to the back of the tractor and walking. Smokey, who had been halter broke in the past, I thought would be fine. Toodles, who I didn't think had ever had a halter on, I was worried about. Xanadu, the calf, she was left loose to follow along. I wasn't concerned about her. She had two choices, follow or be left behind alone. Of course she followed her mamma like a good girl. What surprised me was that Smokey wouldn't walk. She's approximately 1800 lbs and wouldn't take a step. The tractor pulled, she slid behind, then fell. Legs splayed on the road. We had gone 500 ft and her hocks we skinned and bleeding from falling on the pavement. It's frustrating watching. All she had to do to relieve her discomfort, was to walk. Each time she fell, I loosened the ropes and gave her a rest. Unsure what we would do if she didn't walk. We couldn't drag her, we'd kill her. We couldn't let her keep falling, she'd hurt herself. Toodles in the mean time was tied next to Smokey, standing just as quiet as can be, without ever pulling her rope tight. You'd think she had been shown, she was so well halter broke. (She is now officially my favorite cow.) When we reached the farm next door, I'm not sure if Smokey could smell the other livestock or what, but she stood right up, shook her head and walked. The rest of the way was a breeze and thankfully she is no worse for wear, with no injuries other than skinned hocks.
I wasn't terribly worried about the walk, because I knew it would work, but it was a huge relief to have them inside and out of the wind and snow. The trip back in the spring? Well, I'll worry about that when the time comes. In the mean time, I will be putting a halter on Xanadu and teaching her how to walk, as she'll have to be tied next round.
A few years ago I would have thought it impossible to farm without machinery or a barn. But I guess where there is a will, there is a way. I've had to be resourceful and return favours with my time (which is worth more than money) but it's working. I have my cows.
The horse wouldn't let me catch him that day. He's in need of a lot of work. He's very herd bound and would prefer if I left him alone with his cows. The thing with him though, is that he's not mentally strong enough to be a herd leader. If he wants to go somewhere in the field, but he's afraid, he'll herd one of the cows and force them to come with him. He's severely claustrophobic (which stems from years of being trapped in a stall 24/7 and mistreated before we bought him) and is afraid of most things. So being in the barn is a bit of a mind blow for the guy. The space they are in is an open area, half enclosed and half outdoors. There is no reason he should feel the least bit confined or trapped, but he does. I'm not sure how to help him with this except to go back to the lessons of natural horsemanship and build his confidence with games and exercises.
I left him in the field and took the cows. If he didn't want to follow me, then he'd suffer the consequences and be left behind. He wanted to be a dink, so I said fine, have it your way. When I returned for him, he ran up to me in the field, placed his head in my lap. He didn't care, he'd follow me anywhere, so long as I didn't leave him alone. He has a strong dominant streak in him, being a stud for 3 or 4 years and that dominance and fight for leadership is a daily battle with us. He wants to be in control, but wants me (or the cows) to provide him with safety and comfort. In the animal world, you can't have it both ways. You follow or you lead. Poor guy is in constant struggle with himself.
We walked down to the barn. I had plans on riding him, but he worked himself into such a state he was covered in icicles from galloping through the snow banks and sweating. He's such a dink some days, but he's my special boy. There is no lack of personality. He is the furthest thing from a dead head quarter horse that you might mistake them for different species.
With everyone warm in the barn, I can wait for Toodles to calve. I'm not sure on her exact due date but some time in February is our best guess. Her calf will be the second born on our farm and will have a name beginning with the letter Y. Two Crows Farm is officially a member of the Canadian Limousin Association and has been given tattoo letters that represent our farm. If we choose to register our animals they will have the tattoo in the left ear beginning with MDC then the number they were born and the letter of the year. So Toodles' calf could be MDC 1Y. We chose the tattoo MDC because it is both Martin's initials and mine.
So the little girl that everyone thought was crazy for having a cow in her back yard, with no barn and no tractor, now has 2 cows, has sent 3 bulls/steer to market, fed 12 families, has had one calf born on the farm and awaits the second, with top of the line genetics and some pretty awesome cattle and plans to purchase two more. Hard to believe we had none of this two years ago.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Favorite Toy
When Shady was a pup the toy duck was bigger than she was. But she would proudly drag it around, doing her best to lift it. She sucked on it and slept with it and quacked it until it had no quack left. Eventually the poor thing was brought outside and left there. With no wings or feet left, we eventually threw it away.
When I was a kid I had my sookie blanket. It (she, really) was rainbow stripe with white satin edges. I wore her as hair, tying her back with a clothes pin. She was the roof of my forts. She came with me everywhere I went over night.
My mother made a blanket for each of my boys. Satin on one side and the softest flannel on the other. Don't tell Reiley I told you this, but he still has his hidden in his room. Owen still uses his. I am torn between him being old enough to give her up already and being heart broken that he's too old for her anymore. He uses his blankie more than I did or Reiley did. On long car trips he'll bring her along and suck on his fingers with her tucked under his nose. Just like he did today when we went shopping in Halifax.
We didn't notice she was missing until Owen was getting tucked into bed. After 2 trips to the truck looking and looking again, we couldn't find her. I was ready to call the stores we had visited on the long shot that someone had turned her in, having found her in the parking lot. She must have fallen out the truck when Owen climbed in. To be honest, I was heart sick at the thought of her lying in the wet, dirty slush, all by herself. Lost. I really didn't want to tell Owen she was gone.
I went back outside one last time and looked around the truck and found her lying in the snow. After a quick fluff in the dryer, she was as good as new and warm too.
My mother made a blanket for each of my boys. Satin on one side and the softest flannel on the other. Don't tell Reiley I told you this, but he still has his hidden in his room. Owen still uses his. I am torn between him being old enough to give her up already and being heart broken that he's too old for her anymore. He uses his blankie more than I did or Reiley did. On long car trips he'll bring her along and suck on his fingers with her tucked under his nose. Just like he did today when we went shopping in Halifax.
We didn't notice she was missing until Owen was getting tucked into bed. After 2 trips to the truck looking and looking again, we couldn't find her. I was ready to call the stores we had visited on the long shot that someone had turned her in, having found her in the parking lot. She must have fallen out the truck when Owen climbed in. To be honest, I was heart sick at the thought of her lying in the wet, dirty slush, all by herself. Lost. I really didn't want to tell Owen she was gone.
I went back outside one last time and looked around the truck and found her lying in the snow. After a quick fluff in the dryer, she was as good as new and warm too.
After good night hugs and kisses I walked into the kitchen and found Shady lying on the floor with her Christmas present. Her favorite toy. Even after all these years. I guess we never get too old for some things.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Froggy Woggy
Owen's hair had grown far too long.
He had been evading me for just as long. So I finally put my foot down and put Owen into a chair, fresh from a bath (he didn't want to take) and got out my scissors. He insisted he put his stuffed toy frog in another chair to watch. That done, he told me I could start.
As I was snip-snipping along I got a lesson in the definition of an old word I apparently didn't know, even after all these years.
Owen: I want Froggy to get a hair cut after me.
Me: How can I cut Froggy's hair? Frogs don't have hair.
Owen: Well he does. His name is Froggy Woggy.
Me: (???)
Owen: He's not just Froggy, he's Froggy Woggy, so he has hair. Woggy means he has hair. So he is Froggy who has hair.
Me: Oh. Um, maybe I'll cut his another day though, ok?
He had been evading me for just as long. So I finally put my foot down and put Owen into a chair, fresh from a bath (he didn't want to take) and got out my scissors. He insisted he put his stuffed toy frog in another chair to watch. That done, he told me I could start.
As I was snip-snipping along I got a lesson in the definition of an old word I apparently didn't know, even after all these years.
Owen: I want Froggy to get a hair cut after me.
Me: How can I cut Froggy's hair? Frogs don't have hair.
Owen: Well he does. His name is Froggy Woggy.
Me: (???)
Owen: He's not just Froggy, he's Froggy Woggy, so he has hair. Woggy means he has hair. So he is Froggy who has hair.
Me: Oh. Um, maybe I'll cut his another day though, ok?
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Laughing eyes
Laughing eyes
Originally uploaded by Misty Croney
Stand over here, I need to take a picture.
No, not like a goof ball, like this, here. (I bend and twist his head so he's in the light)
Now, stay there. Stop laughing (I say through my own giggles, they are so contagious). I want you to look thoughtful.
Think about english. (His eyes glaze over and become dull)
Ok, not english, think about math. (His eyes liven up again, but standing still with a camera in his face is taking it's toll. He's starting to giggle again. I'm losing him.)
Think about not being a goofball. (Click)
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