"If the world were merely seductive, that would be easy. If it were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day." — E.B. White

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Knocked down, stood up, knocked down, bloody and bawling

Hey friends, I haven't had any time to blog and miss you all ~ especially today. 
Life on a farm is always full of hard work and often emotional but I'm usually able to take a few sobs followed by deep breathes and continue on. 
Most mornings, no matter what's happened the day before,  I try to start with a fresh outlook. 
I pour my coffee and go let out my hens so that we can do chores and enjoy the gardens together.

One of my favorite views. 

In fact, I've been meaning to do a special post about the circle of life and the comings n goings on our farm.  
We've lost some extra special horses and goats. And been joined by cute new ones.
They will have to work hard to challenge past titles of extra special tho!

My most favorite pony will soon get his own post. RIP Neil Diamond.

Bert died shortly before the  new kids were born.
Meet Max n Ruby. Our New Kids on the Bale.


My mother lost her beloved old German Shepard and my brother got an adorable Boxer.
Ike was a Katrina rescue and so appreciative to have a family.

I've had an occasional hen plucked by a fox and bought or hatched new ones...
This (now dead) pullet hatched guinea keets after a fox took their mama from the nest.

But senseless carnage and massacre is hard to swallow.
TWICE.
You guessed it. A demon raccoon.
It's been a personal thing for this monster.
First the cat food on the porch.
I locked it up.
Then it DESTROYED my porch and dumped n dug all my flowers
leaving poop on my grill in case I didn't get the message.
Two nights ago it broke into my coop.
A nightmare of carnage so bad I could not even believe my eyes.
I was in shock.
Clearly this was just a sport to the creature.
Hens without heads or guts but their eggs still there.
I can handle a fox feeding cubs.
I.can.not.handle.a.coon.killing.for.fun.
I toughed it out (it was after a grueling day before on the farm)

Romeo was driven down by my BFF in MI
I mourned and cleaned the coop and doctored the dear sweet Romeo Rooster who had fought hard and lost but not quite died.
I celebrated the hens who'd been nesting elsewhere.
And my beautiful young pullets just bought last weekend and isolated. 
I acted tough n told clients n family that it's just an ugly part of nature.
I reinforced the coop (which was pretty darn secure already!) and set a trap with marshmallows.
I sweet talked poor Romeo and tucked him and the others in with a promise they need not worry.

I lied.

The *&%$#! beast broke in and killed them ALL, even the pullets somehow!!!!
Worse. 
Poor Romeo is not quite dead. But nearly. And no one but me is here to deal with it.
The marshmallows are gone and trap was sprung.
The Farmer thinks its a huge raccoon.
I can not cope. 
The Farmer is gone getting tractor parts.
Kids are at the beach with his mom.

I am alone with my blog to grieve and condemn. 
And whine that farm life in this economy of no help and no vacations is just too much for me somedays.

My poor poor birds.
I let them down.
I am devastated.
Ironically sweet Henny Penny is alive because she lives in a rabbit hutch and free ranges due to constant attacks from the other hens.
She is four years old.
She still lays eggs.
Been found near dead too many times.
Eaten yogurt, blueberries n scrambled eggs, been filled with triple antibiotic and recovered.


Yes, she and my floor both look gross. That's part of farm life too.
I might just have to become the crazy chicken lady and let her live in the house.
Permanently.
The thought of her head being ripped off after all she's been through will sign my note for the mental ward.
I've had one foot in the door there lately anyway.
My fight feels gone.
I wanna live in a condo and work at Walmart.
Really.
But since I can't I stole this from the always inspirational Coop Keeper.
(As I searched her early blog I fell in love with her all over again. The blue chair, the blue pool, the chicken whispering and garden tour lust... We must be kin. Too bad she got the looks and the talent!)
Thank the Lord I can still laugh while I cry.
I pray that soon I can sing a similar song and show a dead coon.
Jayme sings like she does everything ~ bravely! Go watch here.
Lock up your girls and get your guns.
This is war. 

Loved you ladies. Don't worry, I 'll get 'im!