K ~ Killdeer

    The long driveway that lead up to, and circled around the church house was kept neatly graveled. I always liked the sound the steel buggy wheels made as they drove over it as Dad guided our horse up to the porch along the front of the church house to let Mom and me get off the buggy.
    We had done it the same way every church Sunday for years, but this Sunday was different. As we approached the porch we noticed several pieces of rebar stuck into the middle of the driveway. Dad slowed our horse from a gentle trot, down to a slow walk as we approached. We turned out to drive on the grass to avoid hitting the rebar.
     Mom and I got off the buggy and walked the short extra distance to the porch steps. As we crossed the driveway we could see the reason for the rebar. A killdeer had decided to build its nest right there and four eggs were blending into their gravel nest.
     I'm sure it seemed like the perfect spot during the week with no activity happening nearby, but Sunday morning was quite another story. The poor bird fluttered and cried all morning until we all left after church services.
     Two weeks later there were little killdeer in the nest as we again all drove around it. The mother was not at all impressed with all the activity around her precious babies.
     By the next church Sunday the little family had moved on. The rebar had been removed, and normal driving up to the porch had resumed.
    Until the next summer when the killdeer was back for another round.
   

D ~ Doll, Daisy, and Dottie

    Doll, Daisy, and Dottie were three of the thirty cows I was introduced to only a few days after we were married and I had moved to LV's family farm.

     Those first weeks all the information I was receiving was nearly overwhelming. Trying to remember the names of all the cows, learning how to assemble the milking equipment, and all my other new duties that came along with being a dairy farmer's wife.

    It didn't take me long to remember Doll's name. She was a greedy, bossy young cow. She could be lying there contentedly chewing her cud, but if she heard the cow next to her drink from a water bowl she would get to her feet with amazing speed and push her away. She was the second cow in the row of fifteen which meant she had two water bowls to choose from. Even so her greed would have her trying to guard both bowls to keep them for herself.

     Daisy was a sweet cow, smaller than the others in our herd. It didn't take me long to really like her. Her disposition was one of sweetness. She loved being brushed and working with her was always a joy.

     Dottie was an unassuming cow. She would have won no beauty contests, being the plainest cow I ever saw. Her character made it easy to not really pay any attention to her. She always did what she was supposed to do, and went where she was supposed to go. Her milk production was average. She minded her own business and was easily one of the most forgettable cows we had.

   We had other cows who gave us more than a few memorable stories, but their names didn't begin with "D" so I'll save their stories for some other day.

Squirrels

Several years ago Kenneth built a sandbox for Steven to play in. To keep the cats from using it as a giant litter box, he made a nice top for it so we can cover it when it's not in use.

This winter, even though it has the cover firmly in place, it has become the home of a little red squirrel. It squeezes in through a crack that has appeared in the one corner. 

We have been entertained watching it as it gnaws the shells off of walnuts until they're small enough to fit inside. It tests the size every couple seconds in its hurry to get inside safely out of reach of the bossy bigger squirrels.

There are several other bigger kinds of squirrels that come visiting the walnut tree as well. They're equally as entertaining to watch.

Between all the birds and squirrels to watch outside the kitchen window, it's almost a wonder that any of the other rooms in the house get used. 

One of the bigger squirrels taking a rare quiet moment before darting on up the tree to retrieve another walnut.

Once spring arrives and the little red squirrel moves from its home in the sandbox, we'll be getting rid of the sand and possibly the sandbox as well. 

As long as they don't try living in the attic or elsewhere in the house, I actually really enjoy having squirrels around.

Pansy

Our cow Jenny was getting too old to keep our family in milk so Daddy visited some of the area dairies to see if someone would have a friendly little Jersey they would be willing to sell. When he came home he was happy to have found someone who said they had just the cow for us. Gentle, sweet disposition and a great milker who would be sure to provide all the milk we could possibly have use for. He had paid for her and they would deliver her free of charge sometime the following day.

The next forenoon John, David and I were playing outside when we saw the man come with the cow and unloading her in our pasture. We ran inside to tell Mom about it. She came outside as the man went on his way. We joined Mom to go to the pasture to have a look at our new cow. When we got close to her we saw why they wanted to sell her. Not only did she look older and more worn out than Jenny but her udder was practically dragging on the ground.

Daddy had gone to a lumber kiln to get more lumber for our woodworking shop and we knew he would be disappointed once he saw the cow the farmer had tried to give us. Once he came home and we told him about it we all went back outside to have another look at the cow. As we expected Daddy wasn't happy. There wasn't much we could do about it though and the cow obviously needed to be milked. He asked us to bring the milk pail and a cake pan. I ran to the house to get what he needed wondering what he would use a cake pan for.

After giving it to Daddy, he slid the cake pan under her udder and started milking. It was a slow process of sliding the cake pan in and milking a little bit until the pan was full then emptying it into the milk pail. After chores were done Daddy went to the pay phone at the corner store in the village and called a cattle dealer and told him we have a cow to sell and that we want a good one to replace her.

Several days later the dealer came and unloaded a pretty little fawn colored Jersey and took the old cow the farmer had sold us. We all admired her as she lay under our apple tree and chewed her cud. once chore time arrived we once again followed Daddy to the barn. This time there was nothing wrong and it didn't take long for the pail to be filled with frothy milk. As we were finishing up the chores we discussed what we would call our new cow. We didn't want to call her Jenny like the family cow before her, as we turned her back out to pasture Mom stood there watching her graze and turned to Daddy and asked. "How about Pansy?"

"Pansy sounds fine to me." was his reply. I said the name to myself a few times and decided I really liked it. A pretty little cow like that was perfect to be named after Mom's favorite flower.

Good-bye Jim

John and I were walking home from school. The snow banks beside the road had dwindled down to sad dirty piles. The melting snow created a creek in what was usually an empty ditch. We dawdled along floating twigs in the stream and watched as the current carried them away, when we heard a horse and buggy approaching.

We looked up and were surprised to see Mom driving Jim. She stopped beside us and we climbed on the buggy wondering where we were going to, since a ride home from school was unheard of unless it was raining.

It didn't take long for us to notice that Mom seemed sad. When we asked her what was wrong she said a man was coming by that evening to buy Jim, and that she had wanted to drive him for one last time yet before he left us.

John and I weren't happy to hear that we would have to sell Jim. Mom assured us he was going to go to a good home and that he deserved to spend the rest of his life in a nice place where he would no longer have to pull our heavy buggy up and down those long hills.

Once we got home Daddy came out of the shop to unhitch Jim. Mom stood there stroking Jim and talking to him for a long time and then turned to go to the house. Her cheeks looked wet from tears and that was the last straw for me. The sobs I had been trying to choke back came. I went to pat Jim's velvety nose and tell him good-bye. He had been our faithful horse ever since I could remember and the thought that he would no longer be in the barn or out in his pasture to welcome us with his gentle whinny was almost more than I could bear to think about.

I went to the house to help Mom prepare supper. After we had eaten we heard a truck and trailer pull into the driveway. Daddy went outside to help load Jim. When he came back inside we got ready for bed.

The following days seemed a little sad when ever we went to the barn and saw Jim's stall with out Jim there waiting for us. Several weeks later we got a picture in the mail of Jim in a nice green pasture. He looked happy and it made me feel a lot better to know that he really was doing fine.

Goats

    Our barn walls had cracks between every board and Daddy wanted to close them up before winter came. He bought a lot of 1 x 4's and started nailing them over the cracks. It made the barn resemble a cherry pie. With its red sides and the narrow white strips that were nailed over the cracks.

    Daddy gave us children each a hammer and several nails to help nail the strips to the barn. It took several days to get it done since Daddy only worked on it in the evenings after he got home from work.

     Once it was done it was nice and snug inside for our horse Jim, and Jenny the cow.

     David was having problems with a hiatal hernia and some one had recommended using goat milk would help him, so Daddy built a pen to keep several milking goats. There was an elderly man in the neighborhood that enjoyed going to livestock auctions, Daddy asked him to buy several goats for us.

    Several days later he drove up with two nannies and a billy. We put the nannies in the pen Daddy had built and tied the billy to a post until Daddy could build a pen for him too. John and I used to run home from school and go to the barn to feed the goats. It was fun letting them nibble grain and bits of hay from our hands.

     One afternoon we were once again feeding the goats. I was bending over to gather bits of hay from the floor, when to my dismay the billy bumped into me. I wanted to quickly get out of his way but was horrified to discover that I couldn't because his horns had slid up inside the back of my coat. By now the billy wanted to get away from me as much as I wanted to get away from him. He was bleating loudly, but my cries were even louder as I dangled helplessly from his horns. I couldn't touch the floor with my feet or my hands as he swung his head wildly trying to get rid of the unwelcome burden.

     John had run inside to get Mom and she hurried out to my rescue. She managed to open my coat and I tumbled to the floor as the billy goat hurried in the opposite direction still shaking his head and voicing his grievances. Mom checked to make sure that I was alright and then sat on a bale of hay and laughed. I had never seen her quite so amused before as she sat there rocking with laughter. I wasn't quite able to see what was so hilarious but seeing her laugh like that soon had us children laughing too as we headed for the house to prepare supper before Daddy got home from work.

    Mom told Daddy all about it at the supper table that evening and everyone laughed again. But from that day forward the billy and I mutually avoided each other as much as possible.

    The barn looks forlorn and sad and very weather beaten 30+ years later. The new owners cut a hole in the side and moved my little playhouse to the side of the barn.

Buttercup aka Jenny

     The Jersey cow that Grandpas had given Mom on her birthday was very sweet natured. We named her Buttercup.
     Every evening Mom would get the milk pail and announce. "Okay children, let's go milk Buttercup." We would head for the barn and scoop some grain into the feeding trough while Mom took a rope and headed for the pasture to lead the cow inside.
     Once she was tied in her pen John or I would stand behind her and hold her tail so she wouldn't swat Mom's face while she was milking her. Mom would get a little stool and sit down beside her and say "Easy Jenny" and then start milking. The ping ping of milk hitting the stainless steel pail soon changed to the sound of streams of milk being added to a pail of foamy milk. The cats would be sitting nearby waiting for their daily dish of fresh milk.
     When we were done Mom would give the cats their milk, and set the pail in a safe spot while she let Buttercup back out to pasture. Then we would head back to the house where she would strain the milk into a gallon jar and set it into the sink with cold water to cool it off before putting it into the refrigerator.
      Somewhere along the line we stopped calling the cow Buttercup at all and switched to only Jenny.
      Then one day a neighbor stopped in and said they think they just saw Jenny down the road in someone's Alfalfa field, and if she wants to, she can ride with her down to the field and bring her back. Mom looked into the pasture and saw that Jenny was indeed missing, so she fetched her lead rope and then told John and me to take care of David if he wakes up and be good until she gets back.
      We stood by the window and watched her leave. We were soon bored in the house waiting for her and went outside to sit on the swing under the cedar trees so we can see when she's coming home. After what seemed like a long time we saw her coming with Jenny walking slowly behind her. They reached our land and Jenny decided it's time to head for the barn, and fast. She started off at a gallop with Mom dragging over the ground behind her trying to get the rope untangled from around her hands. When she finally got loose Jenny ran straight for the barn and Mom got up with bad rope burns and all bloody from being dragged over the ground.
     John and I were crying, and by the time she limped into the house so was David. She sat on a rocking chair to take care of him while John and I tried to wash the blood off her arms and get her all patched up.
     She didn't work for the rest of the day. And called us her little heroes for doctoring and taking care of her till Daddy came home.

Buggy Ride of a Lifetime

      Grandpa Masts lived on a large dairy farm along a busy highway. Their driveway went up a steep grade and ran along side of the highway. It was fun looking down from the buggy and seeing the cars on the road.
     Uncle Eli and his wife Sadie lived in a trailer on Grandpa's farm and helped with the crops and some of the chores and then had a large sawmill yet.
     Uncle John Henry and his family lived on the same farm but on the other side of a ravine. There was a nice wooden bridge built across it that was fun to cross if my hand was firmly tucked inside my Mom's or one of the other grownups.
       Most times when Mom drove over to Grandpas we would take their field lane off of a small side road rather than face the traffic on the highway or the steep driveway.
       One rainy day Mom had to go to town, so she dropped the three of us children off at Grandpas while she did the errands on her own. We had fun playing with Grandma's rainy day toys and Grandpa sat on his rocking chair and let us comb his hair and his long beard.
       When Mom got back from town Grandpa helped all three of us into the front seat beside Mom because there were a few 100 lb bags of feed in the back and then advised her to take the driveway instead of the field lane since it was really muddy.
      We said our good-byes and started down the driveway. At the end we had to stop and wait for traffic. The buggy didn't have brakes and Mom kept an extra firm grip on the lines so Jim wouldn't start out in front of a vehicle. A semi passed, showering us with water and Jim eager to get home out of the rain didn't care for it at all, and started backing. Mom yelled whoa but then a milk truck passed and we got another shower and Jim backed faster. He didn't really care how or where he was backing, he just wanted out of there. The back wheel bumped over the edge and the buggy tipped precariously John, David, and I were starting to cry Jim backed a little more and we all went over the edge and down on our side right beside the highway. Mom was against the door and we three children landed on top of her. We started howling on the top of our lungs, somehow she convinced us to be quiet so as not to scare Jim and get him started kicking.
      Fortunately for us someone had seen us fall and stopped to help, and soon there were a lot of people there trying to lend a hand, Uncle Eli had realized something seemed amiss and came to see what was going on. He opened the storm front and lifted us out and took us back to the house to Grandma. Jim lay there quietly until they had him unhitched and then stood up and stood there waiting to see what 's next almost as if he was apologizing for the mess he got us into.
      Somehow the men got the buggy back on its wheels and Jim hitched up again and we went home bumped, and a little bruised, but what an exciting story to tell Daddy when he got home from work.

Smokey

     Having an infant to care for plus a big garden can be a bit overwhelming at times for any young mother. After Aunt Susie had gone home, Grandpa Mast would bring Vernie over occasionally to help with the weeding, harvesting, and canning.
     She was a happy little helper for Mom as she would pull weeds, or break the green beans into pieces for canning, she would wash the canning jars, crank the victoria strainer to make tomato juice and applesauce.
     Her added help gave Mom a much needed boost.
     One afternoon we were canning peaches. Mom was peeling them, Vernie was washing the jars in preparation of filling them. John and I were standing on chairs by the table trying to fit the peach halves neatly into jars. In the middle of all this, Daddy came home from work. He came into the house and told us to come outside to see what he brought home.
     We all went and washed our hands and followed him outside to where he had a big friendly black dog tied to a tree. He wanted John and me to pet it but we were terrified, a dog was the last thing we would have put on our wish list.
     Daddy picked me up and carried me over to the dog to show me what a nice dog she was, but I was not impressed and started crying. Being the oldest if I set an example, John always followed, but his voice was a lot heartier than mine, he would practically bellow! So here John and I were howling away, and Vernie always hated seeing anyone cry so she had to cry too.
     Daddy looked disappointed that his surprise fell flat. We went back into the house and continued with our canning. Daddy helped with the remaining peaches and then went outside to hitch Jim to the buggy to take Vernie home. I got to go with them. After we had dropped Vernie off at Grandpa's I got to sit in the front seat with Daddy. That was the best place to be in the whole world as far as I was concerned. All the way home Daddy talked about dogs, the fun he used to have playing with his dog when he was a little boy, the benefits of having dogs that like children and how they help protect them, and how happy he is he found a fine dog for us, and that we'll grow to love her.
     We named the dog Smokey and it wasn't long before John and I tolerated her. We didn't play with her and she didn't bother us. It was something of an unspoken mutual agreement, you don't get too close and we won't cry, and with the noise we made when we cried she was happy to stay away.

Hard Work and Birthdays

      That first summer was very busy. After the old house was torn down and cleared away they moved our little trailer onto their property to live in until they got a house built.
      Daddy was always looking for work to add to their meager income, and since they had moved he took any small job he could find. For several weeks he worked at a vineyard, and whenever Wixson's Honey needed him he would work there, but they still had to struggle to make ends meet. Then one day a big burly logger stopped in and asked if he could split firewood for him. Daddy was happy to do it. They brought big dump truck loads of firewood and dumped it behind the house and Daddy set to work swinging a big heavy ax. I loved watching him as he worked in a steady rhythm, every blow of the ax split a chunk of wood down the middle then he would split each of the halves yet. Hour after hour he would work, without rest, whistling as chopped wood for $4.00 an hour, happy to be providing money for his family.
      After several months of splitting wood, the logger offered Daddy the job of working for him in the woods for a much better salary. Daddy accepted, and it wasn't long before they had saved up enough money to build a little white barn with a green tin roof.
      John and I enjoyed playing in it. There was a stall for Jim, a pen for a cow they hoped to buy someday, and another pen for a few pigs. There was room to park our spring wagon, the top buggy, and our little open buggy, and a ladder that led up to the hay loft. We were not allowed to climb up to the loft unless Daddy was with us, but we didn't mind, there was enough fun to be had in a new clean barn without that.
      One day we were playing in the barn, when we heard a horse and buggy drive in. When we ran outside to see who it is, we saw Aunt Vernie sitting beside Grandma Mast who was driving their open buggy. Grandpa was sitting on the back holding a rope leading a cute Jersey cow.
      Mom came running out of the trailer to meet them and Grandpa handed the rope to her and said "Happy Birthday". Mom was delighted and hardly knew what to say. Her voice sounded funny as she thanked Grandpa.
      We followed her as she led the cow into the barn and put her in the pen Daddy had made. Then we helped her give it some hay. Grandpa tied his horse to the hitching rack and then they came into the barn too. Grandma gave Mom a shiny new milk bucket. It was the most beautiful pail I had ever seen. Shiny stainless steel that worked as a mirror. John and I sat down and made funny faces and watched as the reflection in the pail was contorted to make them look even funnier. Aunt Vernie joined us and we giggled and laughed for quite awhile until Grandma asked Vernie to take the birthday cake into the house. We all went inside and Grandma starting making a birthday supper for Mom, Vernie set the table and then helped us color in our coloring books.
      Throughout the next hour or so all the aunts and uncles and cousins that lived in the area arrived bringing desserts along for supper.
      Everything was ready to eat when Daddy came home from a hard day in the woods, his boss dropped him off at the end of the driveway and Daddy went to the back of the truck and got several big boxes off the back and set them on the ground. John and I and all our little cousins ran out to meet him. Daddy gave us a big hug then sent me to tell Mom to come outside to see her birthday gift. I ran inside and found Mom among all the other women and told her Daddy has a lot of birthday gifts for her and that he wants her to come see them now.
      We went back outside where everyone was waiting to see what is in these big boxes and John was telling Daddy about the cow in the barn and the shiny new pail. Daddy made us all stand back and watch as Mom opened the boxes, we could hardly contain our eagerness and were thrilled when Mom lifted out a black speckled hen. We crowded around the boxes then and admired the 23 others that were still in the boxes.
      Mom and I went back into the house and the uncles helped Daddy quickly build a small chicken coop from lumber that had been left over from our barn. And then everyone enjoyed a big birthday supper.
      The evening was soon over and everyone went home, as Daddy tucked me into bed I thought there couldn't be anyone as happy as we were. A new chicken coop filled with hens, and our own little brown cow, and the prospects of another exciting day tomorrow.

Cows

   Only several steps from our back door there is a field on a steep hillside where every summer someone puts their cows in to graze.
    Somehow even though they attract flies, I enjoy seeing and watching them.
    There's something about seeing a cow grazing peacefully that makes me feel that everything is all right in the world.
    I have come to the conclusion that people every where would be happier if only the could spend their free time on a back porch watching a cow and her calf interact, simply watching them graze, being mesmerized by their swishing tails. Listening to them eat grass. Yes, really. I don't know of much of anything that sounds better or tastier than a cow enjoying grass. (Well ... maybe a horse eating hay, but we don't have any horses.) They make it sound so good!
   

 

    There's something so peaceful and simple about this pair. They're not worried about anything other than family and food.

    Can you imagine the stress free life we could have if we detached ourselves from most everything else, especially social media. Instead of being bombarded by angst filled political views, incessant chattering on modesty, and wearying arguments concerning a vast range of subjects on everything from parenting styles, diets, education, medicine, flat earth (yes really) and basically anything else you can think of.

    Here's something I never imagined I would ever say, but I think I want to be more like a cow, and focus only on what's important. I'll still pop into Facebook occasionally, but I won't be spending a lot of time there.

 

Feeding Cows

Yesterday Buddy was introduced to the joys of feeding cows. He had watched Sunbeam do it and I guess it looked like enough fun that he was sure he wanted to do it as well. At first he had needed a little encouragement from Sunbeam, those long, sticky, and somewhat sandpaper-y tongues seemed to be a little much at first.

By evening he had enough confidence to do it on his own.

 

Squealing as he presents another handful of grass to a friendly cow.

 

Laughing as he wipes his hand on his pants and watches the cow enjoy the tasty handful of grass.

 

Running back excitedly to get another handful while Sunbeam feeds her favorite cow, and Rosebud does some sketching.

Meet Our Newest Addition

The other morning a vehicle came swooping into the driveway in front of our garage, a car door slammed, and then it sped away. But not before the children witnessed someone hurriedly dropping several cats off.

They hung around here for the rest of the day, much to our cat's dismay. They kept fighting and hissing and by the next morning our cat had been victorious and was once again reigning supreme having chased the others away.

I feel sorry for pets that get dumped off like that.

When someone else dumped off this little dog it found its way into our hearts, and though our cat protested it appears they will learn to get along. We will be allowing him to call this his new home.

Raspberries

Picking berries used to be so much fun when I was a little girl. We would head out early in the morning before the sun got too warm armed with empty ice cream pails. Wearing our coolest clothes and for Mom and me a thin homemade bandanna tied in the back under our hair bun instead of our regular coverings.

I didn't mind all the scratches we got from the thorns on the raspberry and blackberry bushes. Going berry picking was much too special to be concerned about that. As we picked Mom would tell stories from when she was a little girl or we would all sing while we picked.

When our pails were full we would head home to make pie, cobbler, jams, and a special canned pudding to enjoy during the winter.

We have several berry plants behind the house and I was keeping an eye on the berries hoping to get them before the birds do once they ripen.

Turns out I didn't need to worry about the birds. Last week one morning I heard this strange sound and when I went to investigate I found Midnight, a heifer Sailor made his pet leaning over the fence and taking her great big tongue and stripping the berries and leaves off those plants. By the time she got done there wasn't much left of  the berry bushes.

Nubbins

There is a little over sixteen years between my youngest brother and me. He inherited our mother's love for writing and for quite a few years I could expect to receive letters and poems from him at least once a week.

This morning as I was tidying up the desk I happened to find a poem he had sent about their little minature horse. I love it as much now as I did the day I received it.

Pony and Me

I have a pony and oh you should see
How I love the pony and he loves me.
He is pot bellied, short legged, and quite brown
His face wears a smile and never a frown.

When hitched to a cart that's just his size,
And I'm ready to go he'd win any prize
His name is Nubbins - fits to a "T"
Come have a ride and then you can see.

Yesterday morning the snow lay white
Let's hitch him to the sled on this morning bright
The sled was plastic and green as can be
I sat on it ready, to go you see.

It scraped the gravel and made a strange noise,
He took off like a bolt scattering us boys
My brother fell backwards thump on the ground
I flew off where the lane goes around

Galloping hard he flew up the road
His pot belly low he leaped like a toad
Big brother took off as fast as he could
To catch Nubbins quickly is what he would.

Lessons from Rambo

Over the years we have had a lot of animals, each with their own unique temperament. There was Sally the cow who always wanted to claim every calf that was born. She would march into the barn at the front of the herd when ever there was a new calf in the barn so she could spend a few minutes nuzzling it while the rest of the cows found their stalls.

There was Dolly, the cow that was so greedy and could stick her tongue out amazingly far to swipe her neighbors choice bits of feed while she ignored her own generous pile in front of her until she was sure she couldn't possibly swipe any more from her neighbors and then was full and satisfied before she got all of her own rations eaten.

There was Buddy, the horse who loved children so much and would do everything he could to unlatch the gate and spend time with them in the yard.

Alexander, the cat who loved catching a ride every evening on one of our horse's backs. He would climb up the side of the stall and hop on the back of one of our most gentle horses every evening when it was time to take him to the water trough and into a special pen where he could spend the night more comfortably. Alexander would then hop off his back and snuggle into the straw next to the horse. I really wish we would have had a camera back then!

Then there was Rambo the pig. We had pigs before without any problems who went about their life being content with all the good food they got to eat and sleeping and rooting and doing pig things. Rambo was different from the beginning. He was a squealer which in itself wasn't that bad but he was also mean, almost evil. He would have liked nothing better than taking a chunk out of anyone who dared step inside his pen.

One week LV was gone on business.  Everything was going fine, the calves weren't giving me any problems, I was keeping Rambo's troughs filled with food being careful to stay outside his pen while filling them. Everything was going smoothly and I was almost ready to congratulate myself when Sailor came running into the house saying that Rambo is gone.

My heart sank as I went out to the barn and discovered he had somehow managed to dig a hole under the side of his pen big enough to escape. Following the trail he had made rooting across the driveway into the pasture and into the woods I finally caught a glimpse of him snorting and rooting happily under some trees. Pigs aren't the easiest creatures to herd to begin with and since Rambo was not anywhere near to being classed a pet I knew I was in for a challenge to get him back inside the barn. I could try the lasso on him but he was big and strong and I knew even if I managed to get him I wouldn't be able to pull him back where he belonged.

Nothing I tried was working as he went deeper into the woods. I remembered several of our neighbors had said if I needed anything at all while LV is gone to let them know. Now seemed to be a good time to take them up on that offer but after trying to call them and no one answered their phone I was back to square one.

Sailor was following me every where talking and worried we would never be able to get Rambo back and wondering what we were going to do. I knew there was no way I could possibly do this on my own so I said. "Let's pray."  And we did. Nothing fancy at all but it came from the very depths of my heart as I said "I can't do this God, but I know You can."  I walked back to the woods again. This time Rambo didn't run away but stood patiently as I walked up to him. I asked him to come and turned around and started walking back to the barn. Rambo was a changed pig and followed right behind us as if he were a pet kitten. All the way back to the barn and into his pen. There had never been a pig more tame or gentle anywhere.

I closed up the pen and patched the hole he had dug to make sure it never happens again. We went back to the house amazed and thankful at the direct answer to prayer we had received.

I have thought about it a lot since that happening. We have seen many answered prayers already but this is one of the few that the children still cherish and love talking about. I love those little faith builders and am glad our children have witnessed prayers being answered right before their eyes. It's something they can remember for the rest of their lives.

Outside the Window

Something I really enjoyed about our new home was that with more than fifty trees in our yard there was an abundance of birds. Their cheerful songs filled the air all day long and I loved listening to them.

There was a big maple tree right outside the living room beside our sandbox. A family of squirrels lived in it and we spent many happy hours watching them as they chased  each other playfully and later were busy storing nuts for the winter.

One day as the children were playing in the sandbox there were little bits of something falling down on them. they were puzzled until they looked up to see a squirrel sitting on a branch above their heads getting a nut ready to eat Making little bits of the shell fall down on their heads. The squirrels were used to having them play in the sandbox and never bothered to scamper away from them.

Sailor was sure the squirrel was making the bits of nut shell fall on them on purpose and was thrilled about it.

Work at our New Home

If you're trying to count I'll save you the trouble. We had 120 calf hutches.

 Not only were we trying to get settled into our new home and get into a comfortable routine. We were also getting a lot of little heifer calves adjusted to their new home. It was a lot of work. My parents decided to come visit us in our new home and were looking forward to meeting their new baby grand-daughter for the first time as well.

  They also made plans for my brother Mahlon to stay with us for several months to help with the many things that needed to be done. Like building fences, clearing away all the brush around our buildings and a lot of things that needed fixing up besides all the chores that needed to be done.

  I really looked forward to having them come visit. Even though it had only been a little over two months that I had seen them last, it felt more like several years.

Some of the weaned calves that were moved from their calf hutches to one of the pastures.

Buddy

We all really liked our horse, Buddy. He was a Standard bred, coal black, with a white star on his forehead and four white socks. He seemed to really enjoy pulling our little buggy and I enjoyed driving him as well.

He had only one fault, if you can call it that. He absolutely loved our children and did everything he could to be with them. He would painstakingly use his teeth to unlatch the gate to his field and several times a week I would look out the window to see him standing next to the sandbox or swing where the children were playing, just watching them. He seemed to have a special interest in the sandbox and would lower his head and watch intently as they dug ponds and built castles.

I would go out and he always let me hold his halter to lead him back to his pasture where he would then stand at the gate and look longingly into the yard. I always felt a little sorry for him when I put him back to his pasture since he really wasn't doing any harm in the yard and he was so gentle and the children always enjoyed when he came to visit them.

Flooding

Remember this pair?  You're right. It is the little calf that almost drowned after it's mother gave birth to it in the creek and kept knocking back down into the water every time it managed to struggle up onto it's wobbly legs.

Their story continues.

 After two days of steady rain our peaceful little creek was turning into a river with the waterfall gushing loudly. I couldn't quite decide if it was grumbling or laughing. Either way the sound was pleasant as long as everything seemed to be fine.

The water kept rising until the creek didn't really look like a creek any longer. Even the road was flooded after the water no longer could all rush under the bridge. The children were watching it in fascination and all of a sudden cried out that a calf is being washed away. I hurried to the window in time to see something black being sucked down into the current at the bridge.

There was a lull in the rain so I hurried outside in hopes I can at least see what has happened to the poor little thing. I wasn't planning on risking my safety by getting into the rushing water but I did hope I would see it emerge on the other side and be able to get to the creek bank or at least be able to grab some footing on on of the little islands.

I couldn't see a thing though and as I was turning to go back into the house our neighbor called from his yard and asked if I had seen the calf being swept away. He was concerned about it as well but we decided that there really is nothing an 86 year old man and I can do about it except feel sorry. The water running across the road kept us far enough apart that we had to yell our entire conversation.

The children kept feeling so sorry for the cow as it stood there the rest of the day looking at the creek sorrowfully.

The owners of the cows came by last night and the were fishing things out of the creek by the bridge. I kept being afraid we'd see a dead calf being pulled out next. It grew dark and our watching was ended.

This morning the little calf is safely by it's mother. Rescued once again. I'm thinking it should find something other than near drownings to participate in.