One cup of sugar....oh...make it two, cup of Karo syrup, the honey looks a little past it's best, I can clear that out of the pantry...carrot, grate some apple, throw in a little flour oats and some barn yard grain roll into sweet sticky balls and into the oven ! On the home front, I am becoming quite the Cookie Guru but nothing I have created for the cookie tin is as appreciated quite so much as Misty Moo appreciates  my "oat thingys" down in the cow barn. Misty Moo the adorable  Jersey "heifer in waiting" is addicted. One rustle of a zip lock bag and I have got her undivided attention, one sticky cookie and she closely resembles my reaction when I'm given a chocolate and hazelnut Fero Rocher. Misty is currently under training. Clearly her udder was ticklish or just plain out of bounds and, with a mini Misty due in March and the milky bar already distending, it was  time to desensitize her bits in readiness for her graduation from heifer to blossoming family milk cow. An extra item has been added to our agenda, Misty teat tweaking. With her head buried in a grain bucket and me at her head, armed with a sticky cow cookie as a secondary diversion, Greg has the dodgy kicking end,  Misty Moo has been an angel, Greg pulls and strokes and rubs the swelling udder....Misty is  blissfully pre occupied. Food and cookies...I guess it's an age old tactic for child therapy and currently, I'm a supporter ( as least for our four legged friends with the ability to send us into orbit with one crafty and well aimed kick). Daisy Mae passed another uneventful Thursday....the valley didn't echo with her frantic and endless wanton calls. Her benign mood and blessed silence are good signs that Pixie Forest  Mulder's visit to the farm was a productive one. If all goes well in the cow barn, a mini me Daisy Mae will be born on ( or around) September 4th. Misty Moo's calf is due on the 24th of March...doubtlessly we will keep you informed !

It was a BAD day for Bran the Border Collie! The farm truck has a very distinct odor. It isn't horse, sheep cow chicken or turkey .....although, I guess in truth it was possibly all five.  I can, without hesitation prove that the air freshener that can turn a rancid room into a Spring garden and a trash bag filled taxi into a perfumed boudoir doesn't work in our truck !!! Bran STANK ! The dog is a farm dog and I acknowledge that the farm is not the place for a clean dog ....BUT  !! Bran will roll in the manure pile and lie in the black smelly pooh/pee soup . The fecal mess  congealed in his tail, glued to his legs and collected in the hair on his tummy and he was just getting worse by the day. On Tuesday a very reluctant Bran was bathed, in the sink with warm water and soap. The snags and pooh balls were hacked out of his tangled coat and Bran the Border Collie was NOT Impressed. Just to add insult to injury, he got a blow dry. The resultant sparkly clean, scalped canine now smells of.....just dog ! Poor Bran.

Well, the cuckoo clock is ticking down and it's about time to post this entry. Take care, keep safe M 

Oh gosh ! Greg has been in Greg Heaven. Actually, truth be told Greg has been closer to Hell but listening to him you would never know it. We had a hole in the barn yard ("nothing too strange about that"  I hear ranch followers say)....but this hole was THE mother of all holes. Several  months ago one of the main drains leading out of the horse/cow/sheep barn became blocked. Consequently,  it didn't  need a knowledge of rocket science to know exactly what concoction of fecal stench emanated from the nasty little holes in the barn,  I know nothing about rocket science and little about any other type of science but I can recognize the odor of poop and pee......and this poop and pee had become a nasty, smelly, over ripe soup. The last heavy rain storm  over taxed the seriously blocked drain system and Greg could be seen  around the barn yard attempting to divert the bubbling black gaseous liquid overflow before the stalls became a stinking paddling pool. Big brother John dug a ditch, Greg and several of our wonderful WWOOFER  volunteers have spent hours with hoses attempting to discover and clear the blockage and I did my bit too......I faithfully reported whenever and wherever the overflow breached. Well...I thought I was important ! We had a plan, sketched on paper many years ago which appeared to identify the drain system....but somehow it would appear 12 inches didn't used to make a foot and clearly 3 feet didn't make a yard which just added to the frustration. There was no way around it.....the blockage had to be found and to find it we ( uh....Greg) had to find the drain. Clearly a hole had to be dug, the implications of said hole were explained to me in painful (excruciating) detail. My barn yard, my beautiful horse yard would have to have an exploratory hole...holes mean mud and somewhere in my brain I became aware that this hole was going to be more than the average hole.....more than average mud and mountains of mess. Out came the boy's toys.....the big rusty yellow backhoe lumbered and groaned into the stable yard,  the old green Kuchi farm tractor was first to break ground and Greg was in Heaven !  The first hole, three feet from Quest's stall was a baby hole...2 feet by 10 feet by 4 feet deep. Success.....ooops....Greg found the drain ...and broke it.  A geyser of rancid ancient poop and pee exploded into the air .....Greg didn't smell good ! The hole then had to be filled in again ( where were you Malc ?) because it was apparently going in the wrong direction. ( Apparently North South East and West weren't quite where they are now either !) The new hole was started...to fix the break in the broken drain. The second hole 4 feet by 8 feet by five feet deep was Greg's nirvana. Deep in the hole, up to his ankles in smelly sludge and up to his eyes in stinky mud,  he repaired the fractured pipe.  Clearly time to survey the damage and enjoy a  cold Budweiser before flushing the blockage out and refilling the crater he had created. We have a drain again, we have photographs identifying the location and exact measurements ....just in case ! We are ready for the next rain storm, we hope !

I took photographs of the progress of Greg's excavation progress and some other photographs of some views which are clearly much more pleasant to the eye (and the nose). Enjoy.

Take care, keep safe, M

Total disgust !!!  It's a bad day when a dog can shame me...but yesterday Bran the Border Collie, sitting on the hood of the four wheeler humiliated me... and all he did was look. I was a good mum, we had an important  letter to get to the mail box before Mrs. Post lady gets there. I could have walked, ( it would have taken longer)I could have taken the truck (not as much fun) but I elected to take the quad which was inconveniently attached to the little green trailer which was even more inconveniently loaded with hay. Disconnecting the two units would have taken time, Bran, having sensed my thought process and already waiting impatiently on his carpeted perch would have been disappointed...how could I do that to a dog ? So, smelly tail wagging wildly in my face, tongue hanging out and nose pointed into the wind we lurched and bumped off out of the farmyard. Fortunately the mailbox is only at the head of the ranch road....unfortunately that entailed me reversing the quad AND trailer and that WASN'T happening !!! Sadly, that realization only occurred to me as we reached the point of no return and there was little option other than brave the super highway.....um..well..actually, Lackey Road, but it could have had a car on it !! Reluctantly I put the gears into reverse and the nasty little green trailer moved...the wrong way. I tried to remember everything Greg had told me ( and I had forgotten) about the art of going in reverse smoothly and in the right direction.  Sadly, as the little green trailer jackknifed and Bran decided to bale out on me, staring up at the four wheeler in disgust.  My humiliation was heightened when I became the object of amusement for the highway department who appeared to find the jackknifed trailer, embarrassed driver and hypercritical dog a diversion from digging ditches. After several more less than successful attempts to turn both vehicles at the same time to face in the right direction and after a scathing look at the cowardly dog I elected to abruptly end the mornings entertainment and my pain. One haughty glance at the group of obviously highly amused highway Dept. workers and a sharp order to the not too confident dog to get back on the offending four wheeler and I felt a little better. Without another look at my audience and mentally daring Bran to get off again...I detached the little green trailer...with its load of hay, and turned it around by hand.  With a disdainful I glance at the road ( and the dog) I reversed the four wheeler, reattached the two and lurched and bumped back to the ranch. I knew that the quad and trailer belonged in the barn....Bran the dog did too, but to replace it from whence it came meant reversing it and I was NOT going to visit that humiliation again...or so I thought ! I headed straight for the barn to find Greg, who inconveniently wasn't where he aught to be and walking back to the kitchen caught sight of Bran, still sitting on the hood of the Quad watching me and quite obviously his thought process went something like " WELL, that was EMBARRESSING and WHY isn't the quad in the barn where it belongs. Dad NEVER has a problem !"  Sometimes I REALLY dislike that dog !

Time to go, There is a barn full of animals waiting for breakfast .....and NO, I wont be trying that again....EVER !

Take care, keep safe, M

...."Go Seahawks !!!!"......Seems that's pretty much what everyone is saying,  excuse me...have been saying for the past few weeks. Forget National news, international affairs and disasters.  Forget floods, famine, pestilence and the Polar Vortex, the Seahawks are going to the Superbowl. While seemingly the entire North West was parked  in front of a television with pantry's stacked high with beer, chips (crisps) and onion dip ( I know because I wanted onion dip makings and it was cleaned out and the Costco car park was dangerous with customers trolleys stacked high with party necessities)  I was washing Mr. Coopers butt. Yes, I am serious ! As the 12th man was creating seismic reactions, as the earth moved, I was standing with a moist baby wipe looking under Mr. Cooper's tail. The older bay gelding has over the past few days taken to scratching his big brown bottom which has resulted in him scratching the skin off. I have (in my other life) cleaned multiple little pink bottoms...but never before used a baby wipe to clean under a clamped down black tail...clearly Mr. Cooper was enjoying the experience just as much as me. Please get better soon Cooper !

It was the Burn's Night celebration for the Fort Nisqually volunteers on Friday night. As we had supplied the most essential components for the HAGGIS, we were invited to join in the party .... share the evening's entertainment and partake of the famous/infamous Scottish delicacy. By 6pm the ranchers were scrubbed up, made up and dressed up enough to be heading down the highway to the event, complete with pearl choker (glue still wet), ringlets and bloomers. It was a great night, the food was amazing and the company even better than that..thank you Fort Nisqually for including us in your Burn's night, we had SO much fun ! Unsurprisingly I had my own little crisis during the evening....Initially  I managed to get lost just going to the Ladies Room. Fortunately  an observant employee noticed a ringlet headed period clothed stranger heading aimlessly through the complex and pointed me in the right direction ( before it was too late !) but, having got where I wanted to go.....I forgot the extra item of clothing that I was wearing, the one out of sight under my green taffeta  dress. I neglected to re-hoist the white cotton, lace trimmed bloomers in my rush to find my way back to the party before the party ended ! As I scurried back over glassy tiles I gathered that something was not right....in truth, something was very wrong. My white, lace trimmed bloomers were around my knees and clearly threatening to be in a pool around my black booted feet.  It was fortunate that our seats were not in the center of the room and I was thankful that all eyes were on the stage as I shifted and shuffled surreptitiously in my chair attempting to correct my state of undress Fortunately, all was well before the raffle was drawn and we had won the first prize....I gave silent thanks as I stood up to collect my winnings and the offending bloomers didn't puddle on the floor.

Just a quick note...for our despondent EGG customers....the hutch is back up and our new young chickens are starting to lay. Eggs are still the same $3.50...practice eggs, little perfect white eggs from our young White Leghorns are starting to appear in the nest boxes and are $2 a dozen ! Please find us again....I'm getting tired of eating eggs !

Time to go, the cuckoo clock has spoken. Take care, keep safe, M

There is anarchy in the hen  house  ! Tux the Black Wyandot   rooster has become a dictator. Tux began his life on our ranch as a refugee from the city. Banished and potentially homeless due to city ordinances, the young rooster possessed  none  of the self assurance he now displays on a daily basis. The young Tux was initially introduced to the chicken flock in the Roost.  The Roost flock was a group of barnyard hens hatched here at the ranch, a multicolored bunch under the guardianship of Adolf the placid Rhode Island Red rooster and Ernie the handsome barred rooster of undetermined parentage. Life in the Roost appeared to be idyllic (if you are a chicken). Squabbles between the "ladies" were quickly resolved by the intervention of Adolf or Ernie who clearly were intolerant of any disruptions to the peace. Contented chickens and fulfilled roosters = happy healthy hens= nice fresh eggs.....so we were happy ranchers. Tux's arrival clearly upset the balance in the Roost and the young black rooster incurred the wrath and vengeance of the resident and older birds.....which resulted in Tux resorting to impersonating a chicken,  buried so deep  into  a nest box that only the tip of his handsome tail gave a clue to his hiding place. We rescued the terrorized "wanna be" chicken and gave him his own little flock of  young "ladies" which clearly emboldened the maturing rooster who is now the aggressive undisputed head of the chicken house. Poor Adolf secretes himself in the corner of the Roost and only emerges when Tux is "otherwise occupied", Ernie the big golden barred rooster has gone to chicken heaven ( he lost his last battle) and Tux confidently struts around the chicken pen  all memory of his early insecurities gone.  Sadly, the black rooster does not distinguished between the chickens under his administration and the hand that feeds...ME. Of late, Tux has been challenging my presence in the hen house, he has objected to me entering the pen and dared me to take the eggs from the nest box. Of late....Tux has been on the top of my hit list, twice he has attacked..... three strikes and MR. Tux will be soup. Sorry Holly, ( Holly is a much loved member of our extended WWOOFER family)  Tux was her  cute fluffy  little pet chick in the city before he turned into a tyrannical despot, I promised to take care of him...and take care of him I have. Should his current behavior continue, I will most certainly take care of him ....for good !   

Big brother John arrived bright and early ( well, maybe not bright...it was VERY early !) for his weekly WWOOFER experience here on the ranch.  John is our second oldest ever WWOOFER , Greg's Mom being just very slightly older at 93.....neither are actually conventional WWOOFERS but both are most certainly volunteers.  After a quick costume change and after donning the requisite silly hat John was as ready as he ever will be for his day at the barn. Misty Moo the adorable Jersey cow does not discriminate against WWOOFERS, Englishmen or men in silly woolen hats as long as their pockets hold a tasty treat or three  and John's first mission was to take Misty out to Cow Lane for her day out on the pasture. Misty has been here at the ranch since she was three months old and, in that time she has trained us well, the golden brown cow with deep brown doe  eyes smudged with sooty eye liner and eye lashes  to die for requires her treats to be brown bread, preferably expensive and never stale. Treats need to be administered frequently,  a vigorous scratch behind the ears is never declined and Misty the bovine prima donna is never ignored. Big brother John was still smiling as he removed Misty's head collar and the Jersey cow lingered long enough for the requisite scratch and morsel of expensive brown bread...on to his next mission.

 Friends of the ranch are very familiar with the dig the hole and fill it in exercise.....Greg has an aversion to being predictable so a ditch had to be dug but John was thankfully spared from having to follow tradition and John's ditch will help to control the run off from the next Winter storm.

Before Greg could have a change of heart on the ditch John got to work with the paintbrush. The egg hutch has been remodeled after it was a casualty of a heavy wind storm and a new coat of white paint has given the old rabbit hutch a new spruced up lease of life. Tomorrow the transformed egg hutch will return to its original position beside the ranch road and our customers will once again have a drive by egg service. Thank you John.....same time same place next week ? ( ps. did your silly hat really need painting ?)

Well, time to post this well overdue entry.....take care, keep safe, M

And the rain is still falling but now, we also have the wind.  Before we pried ourselves out from under  the snuggly warm comforter we could hear the steady beat of heavy rain drops on the deck and the wind gusting through the giant cedar trees. It was MJ's (Fox 13's weather guru) weekend off but the Pacific North West wasn't forgotten by CNN who excitedly predicted nothing less than the flood for us....I guess all we need now is fire and pestilence. If this weather system doesn't let up and Mother Nature continues her deluge Greg's next project may well be an Ark.

I'm going to try not to complain, I grumbled when we "suffered" 80 days of relentless sun and searing temperatures, I mumbled  (loudly) when we had a week of deep freeze earlier this month....I'm leaving it to the cows, sheep, horses and dog to complain for me, and clearly they did ! There was clearly a look of despondency on Daisy Mae's face as I stood under the dripping gutter ( why does she always wait there ?) to fasten her head collar. It was patently obvious that Daisy and Misty did NOT want to go out to play in the pasture.  Misty Moo headed back to the warm dry barn to hide in the corner and Daisy just planted her hooves and her obese (and hopefully pregnant body) stubbornly refusing to move. You are cows...cows go out to play in the rain....unless you live here I guess. Daisy and Molly were urged out of the barn, pulled through the offending  wind and rain and pushed through the Cow Lane gate. Misty wasn't consoled by her homemade oat/molasses/ grain/sugar  etc  cow cookie and Daisy shrugged off her butt scratch with disdain. It wasn't long before the two miserable cows, dripping wet and complaining loudly parked themselves back in front of the gate demanding reprieve from the punishment we had cruelly  inflicted on them. And they continued to bawl and bellow until  Greg relented.     The flock of sheep, having spent the entire night huddled in the sheep barn, watching the rain puddling in  the barn yard were equally reluctant to brave the elements and it wasn't long before the sodden  group followed Rodney the ram back to the barn to merrily  munch in comfort. Bran the Border Collie has perfected the art of subterfuge. When the winds blow, the rain falls or the air freezes Bran prefers to position his black and white body over the heating vents and there he stays. At bed time, Mr. Bran is fully aware that he is required to um.....empty his bladder. With the instruction to "go out and pee" a reluctant Bran, ears flat back and tail firmly tucked between his legs slinks out the door into the garage and around the end of the parked old gray Ford. Moments later, rather than leave the warm dry house, the  way too smart canine circles the vehicle, ...still suspiciously dry as a bone. Thankfully I consider myself marginally smarter than our canny dog and, drying paws that clearly hadn't crossed the threshold remind him to go and do his duty. That dog knows when he has been caught out and reluctantly ( tail even further between his legs !!) goes out into the weather. Don't you just hate it when the dog thinks he is smarter than you ?

Well, I guess there is more of the same today...time to get out the water wings, snorkels and rubber boots. We'll keep smiling...even if no one else around here does.

Take care, keep safe, M  

·         Bran the black and white Border Collie loves speed...Bran loves the growl of the tractor would spend all day riding in the farm truck but Bran's overwhelming passion is the four wheeler . Bran is a dog with attitude, he is intelligent belligerent, disobedient... and adorable.   Sitting on the fence line motionless he will watch every movement of the sheep in the pasture, with his nose firmly pressed up against the chicken wire and his eyes fixed on the strutting Tom, Bran will supervise the turkeys and when the cows are slowly making their way from the barn to the pasture he will risk a punishing kick in retribution for trying  to "save" the last drops of creamy milk from a warm udder . Bran will sit for hours overseeing the seemingly aloof herd of visiting alpacas, head in the air barking wildly he will rout the visiting Canada Geese and just for the sheer fun of the chase he will harass the horses grazing in the field....from  a safe distance, from the secure side of the fence, close enough to intimidate, far enough away to be beyond harm. Bran can sulk like a rebellious teenager, nose to the wall and ears pressed tightly to his head. He can plead, head cocked, eyes following every move and he can be as deliberately defiant as an unruly child. Tiger and Shy the barn cats have no fear of the dog, when mousing is slow, the birds  are no longer nesting in the beams and the evening meal hasn't yet made it to the cats bowl, the two ginger tom siblings looking for a diversion from the hunt,  bait Bran. Seductively they lie, just beyond his reach, tail gently twitching to attract his attention knowing that the dog will be unable to resist and confident that the game will be over with a well aimed swat from a sharp claw and an indignant meow.

·         As our equine boarders, warm and snug in their stalls  tuck into their breakfast, the ranch team gets to work on the morning chores. A rattle of keys sends Bran straight to the four wheeler ready for the hay run out to the pastures. Before Greg has the trailer loaded,  the black and white collie is already in position, head cocked, ears pricked and tail waving like a banner perched on the front of the quad. As the key turns in the ignition Bran is poised, ready and eager to ride, butt up into Greg's face, nose pointed into the wind, the faster the quad takes the bumps the faster the tail wags, the sharper the turns, the more the dog bends and weaves like a surfer riding the white waves. Occasionally Bran will take a tumble, like a rubber ball he bounces to the ground with indignation and without hesitation scrambles back up onto his vantage point on the front of the quad. Clearly, bouncing off the quad may not be recommended for our canine friend's well being and with Bran's safety at risk, Greg went to work inventing a deluxe carpeted surf board for the dog with a need for speed which sits squarely between the plastic steer horns on our customized red neck quad. The new appendage to the quad not only keeps Bran a little safer, it multi functions !....Tiger and Shy have a new comfortable carpeted cat nap spot for those cold Winter nights.

·         Well, while the East Coast is suffering a deep freeze, the heavens have opened over the Pacific North west. The rain started to fall yesterday and hasn't yet stopped. No strangers to initiative, we recognized the potential advantage of the constant downpour and, since our barn washing machine took early retirement , since the horse blankets were really in urgent need of laundering, and since water from the sky was not in short supply, we improvised and our new hi-tech wash system was conceived. Spin drying is a little more of a challenge....but a gate sheltered by the barn is a convenient drying rack and there will be no utility bill. Greg's a happy rancher !!! Tight wad....who...Greg?

Time for me to get this entry posted, take care, keep safe and dry. M

Now, I'm not one to complain, ever..well, almost never..ok, just a little and, bearing in mind the sub Arctic weather conditions being endured over most of the country I'm hesitant to moan...BUT, it's cold. Getting dressed for a day at the barn takes forever, it's fortuitous that my closet covers small..medium..large and mega. Clothes go on top of clothes, layer after woolly layer until nothing more fits and I can barely walk...but I don't complain. The same can't be said for handsome gray thoroughbred gelding Player. As the barn door opened yesterday a resounding THUD joined ageing T Bone's impassioned pleas for breakfast, followed by several hefty bangs and more notable thuds. Clearly all was not well in Players stall. A cursory glance over the door revealed a seemingly very unsettled gray horse who, usually placid and co operative was clearly hell bent on re arranging the structure of his stall walls and resolved to make life as difficult as possible for anyone who dared to venture into his space.  Fortunately uncooperative equines are no strangers to us and Player is surely not big enough to intimidate... despite his flying hooves and swishing tail and tossing gray head.  It didn't take long to establish the cause of Player's discontent....Player was COLD. After a few circuits of the stall Player was firmly tethered and standing still enough for me to notice that he was shivering miserably from the tips of his ears to the bottom of his hooves...and he had a snuggly warm blanket on ! Poor Player, it's tough being a thoroughbred in Winter. A double layer, arctic proof comforter blanket soon brought the blood temperature up and Player's disposition returned to something less like the horse from hell. It's fortunate we aren't living on the East coast, we'd be fitting his stall with central heating !!! 

Misty Moo the Jersey heifer is beginning to look very matronly. Certain parts of her anatomy are beginning to SWELL and we are becoming aware of the potential milky bar that will open when Misty's calf arrives in March. The potential surplus of rich creamy Jersey milk  has forced Greg to consider our options....ice cream, yoghurt, milk shakes....cholesterol and maybe a little wiener pig. Many years ago we were fortunate enough to taste milk fed pork and the memory still makes the taste buds tingle. As her size and shape change with her advancing pregnancy, Misty has developed a little attitude. One of our (also heavily pregnant) sheep was taking a rest in the pasture, quietly absorbing the watery sun rays that were peeping through the clouds. Sadly, the ewe was directly in the straight line path that Misty was clearly determined to take and Misty the cow wasn't about to change or deviate her route.....Misty unconcerned by her discourteous behavior  just bumped the resting sheep until she hauled her body out of Misty's way and Misty continued on her way.

Time for me to go and start layering up. Take care, keep safe and warm. M

There is an empty space at the table this evening. Sadly, young Tomoko has returned to California and I'm ashamed to admit I only learnt one Japanese word...and discovered that I habitually use another Japanese word on a daily basis without knowing that I was bilingual...OI !!! is my attention grabber, the word I use when Bran the border collie rolls in the compost heap, when Charm the palomino has an attitude and when I catch Tiger the ( neutered) tabby cat  wishfully spraying testosterone on the hay bales." OI !" translates from Japanese as "hey " ...all this time I was smarter than I knew...it just me a lovely young Japanese exchange student to bring it to my attention. smile. We will miss Tomoko. We didn't say good bye, we said "till next time" ...because we know she will be back. Tomoko like Nara, Song  and Shoma before her brought some Eastern magic to the ranch....our life, so familiar and routine to us is a Western experience to be absorbed by them.... and we in turn have learnt so much from their enthusiasm and culture. Our family around the world grows, with each young visitor our love and appreciation of life beyond our boundaries expands. We are grateful that our little family ranch has been able to reach into the lives of such special young people from all over the world and happy that somehow religion, language, culture and history can blend into such a special memory. Tonight, Tomoko's arrow, pointing towards Japan has joined the others on the signpost in the barnyard.

I HURT !!! How does it work that you visit the chiropractor, know full well that he is going to crunch your bones, crack your neck and squeeze your ribcage, you pay him and say ”when do I come back for round 2". Thank you  Doctor Dave in Key Center for the physical abuse I endured this afternoon...I still want to know just how you expect me to relax when I am fully and painfully aware that you are going to bear hug me into a bone crack ? Tonight it's an early night with some Tiger Balm, Icy Hot and Bengay....oh and a strong whisky..just in case. Take care, keep safe ( and if your bones hurt...visit Doctor Dave) M

Good morning, New Years Eve 2013.....Greg and I join together to wish you all a wonderful, happy and healthy  New Year. Party time tonight,  but here on the ranch the falling crystal ball, peach, pineapple and the falling possum ( poor possum !) will, along with the fireworks go largely un noticed.....at least by us. Bran the Border Collie will once again have all his worst nightmares realized. At the first bang of the first popper, Bran will sink into total panic. With his tail so far between his hind  legs he is in danger of tripping his front legs as he runs in circles looking for somewhere, anywhere to hide. By the time the fireworks are lighting up the night sky the poor dog will be a quivering black and white fur ball that has totally given up the will to live. The ranch lifestyle doesn't take into account midnight partying.....5am comes very quickly even on a normal night....much more so if we party into the early hours of the morning, happily, we will be watching the fireworks through the bedroom window from a snuggly warm bed.   

Tux the rooster is getting a little big for his chicken feet and is in serious danger of eviction (or worse!). Poor Adolph, our longtime Rhode Island Red rooster has for the longest time managed the harem in total peace and harmony with the ranch people, not so, handsome Mr. Tux.  Of late, the big black Wyandot  has been attempting to assert his dominance over me.....not a very smart move when I'm (1) the hand that feeds him and (2) the cook that makes the chicken soup ! The surge in fowl  aggression was not totally unexpected but when the feigned attacks turned into what looked like a missile launched from the floor of the hen house, Mr. Tux became public enemy number 1.  Luckily my instant  reaction saved me from a significant  souvenir of the attack and the startled rooster took a quick lesson in summersaults through the air .....and total humiliation for him as his ladies watched him, feathers all in disarray skulk into the barnyard. Since then, Tux continues to advise me  verbally that I need to keep an eye on him but he wisely ensures that he remains OUTSIDE the roost when I enter and  there is a chicken wire fence between us when I leave ! Maybe he is smart after all !

We had our first Annual Barn customer appreciation evening ( gosh that sounds impressive !) and were happy to host Tim and Connie, Sue and Dan,  Patrick, Alice and Dillon to a pizza night.  Predictably, Greg's famous pizza was ( judging by consumption ) fully appreciated and the two million calories in my banana cream pie clearly added inches to our growing holiday waistlines. Sadly, some barn friends were unable to attend, hopefully they are already aware that we do appreciate them and we hope to see them same time, same venue next year....God and health willing !!

Young Tomoko has spent Christmas and New Year here on the ranch. The Japanese exchange student has, we hope, made some happy and enduring memories during her two week stay with us. During her time here Tomo has learnt to drive the tractor, ride Lady the big Shire Mare, fix fencing, drive the quad  and make yoghurt as well as generally taking care of the horses and livestock. Yesterday young miss Tomoko tried her hand at target shooting and predictably proved to be a budding Annie Oakley ! Her arrow is currently under construction and will join the international post directing eyes to Asia.  It has been a pleasure and an experience sharing our very different cultures, we know that Tomoko helped to make our Christmas and New Year  very special. Thank you Tomoko.

Time to go, Happy New Year to everyone, near and far. Hoping this year will bring us continued  happiness, health and peace here on the ranch and around the world.

Take care, keep safe M