So….what day is it ?  Days and nights are currently all blending as one, one long round of working with anterior or posterior ends of our equine (horse), bovine (cow) or caprinae (sheep and goat) family. I just learnt those animal “family” names,….just getting too smart ! (smile) As dawn breaks, the mountains of horse poop that has magically piled up through the night ( don’t horses EVER sleep ?) becomes evident.  Making that by-product not quite so magically disappear ( as evidenced by the size of our nicely composting manure pile) now fights for priority with milking both Daisy the Dexter cow and Acorn our goat doe who is still determined NOT to be a mom. Whilst Daisy is attached up to the pulsating milking machine, I attentively sit at her head end and watch her feed bucket. Whilst there is food in her bucket all Daisy’s attention is focused on the grain, her hooves don’t kick and her tail doesn’t swish ( incidentally NOT a very pleasant experience !) all that changes when the food runs out….my very important job is to ensure that her food bucket is always charged. Clearly, an eating cow is a happy cow. When Daisy’s milky bar is closed, it’s Acorn’s turn. It has to be said Acorn has no aspirations either to be a good mother… (actually, any kind of mother) or to be a good milk goat but it is early days and we live in hope. The big brown LaMancha doe has been designed to feed milk to the 5,000, her udder is the size of a barrage balloon but sadly Acorn sees her future eating peanuts and munching through the contents of the hay feeder untroubled by any ambitions related to the milk parlour or her two cute little kids.  Having sat at Daisy’s head with a grain bucket, my mission with Acorn is unhappily on the less attractive end of the goat. There I sit, twice a day, uneasily perched on a little red plastic bucket at eye level with Acorn’s udder. As Greg attaches the cups to the doe’s engorged teats I have my hands firmly restraining her spindly legs.  Acorn, the goat with attitude can and will kick like a mule the instant her head comes out of her empty feed bin.

Thumper and Peanut are nearly a week old now. Feeding time in the goat pen is both a necessary chore and the highlight (s) of our day. From the moment we enter the goat zone with two plastic Pepsi bottles topped with grey rubber teats ( wonder why grey ??)  we are pounced on, rubbed on, sat on and chewed.  Whilst Acorn and Alicia search pockets for treat morsels, Bonny and Buster bounce from wall to wall, through us and over us. One little kid industriously chews my shoe laces whilst the other investigates the possibilities of making my hair dinner and the abandoned twins suck so hard their plastic bottles implode and satiated they collapse in little brown heaps .

Yes, we have a 15 hour day…every day, 7 days a week, but I know I speak for us both, we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Got to go….it’s bedtime. Take care, keep safe, M        

The Almost Daily Diary is becoming a victim of priorities and before I start getting an avalanche of complaints ( well, Mom S, Mum J and Anne, at least 3 for sure !!!) I will apologize in advance. I’m sorry, your coffee will be diary-less more often at least until the twin set of little brown eating machines find something green and less work intensive to eat. Our work day down at the barn now starts at 7am… which is, incidentally before even the alarm clock in Daisy Mae’s 4 stomachs tells our demanding bovine that it’s time for breakfast and finishes around 9pm with yet another baby feeding session. Any mum ( mom) knows that a newborn is demanding and loud and adorable….Thumper and Peanut the new kids in the goat pen fit the profile perfectly, and somehow this unexpected and unscheduled addition to our workday has stretched into my Daily Diary hour. Reluctant momma goat Acorn might not have a maternal bone in her body but that lady has an udder that would feed the state of Washington and still have some to spare !!!  Milking Acorn and feeding the twins is not optional and try as we might….we can’t stretch our day into any more than 24 hours…I will get to the computer when I can…I will set my two typing ( only one at a time, I rest the other !) fingers to work and try to keep you up to date with the daily dramas here at the ranch. We (me) will keep taking photographs and we, ( Greg) will try to keep the photos coming to the web site.

Got to go, two squeaking mini moms will be waiting for a teat to be put in their ever open little mouths and a milky bar needs to be unloaded before it pops !

Take care, keep safe, M      

Alicia is the perfect mom. Patient and kind, her cute little twins Bonny and Buster are thriving. We do have a little issue…the poor doe is no longer symmetrical. It appears that only one side of the milky bar is attracting customers, the kids clearly prefer the right teat and the left side of Alicia’s udder is engorged. A lob sided udder and an engorged, ignored teat has to be uncomfortable so Greg has to do a “half milk”. Milking the goat this year was not part of our plan but plans are made to be changed …right ? So, Alicia is the perfect mom (almost) but things can’t all go smoothly  on Gentle Giant Meadows Ranch, we would get complacent ! Just to keep us sharp, Acorn the brown doe is quite the opposite, truth be told Acorn wins the award for WORST mom ever !!!  All day Tuesday we watched an increasingly miserable Acorn. As the barn lights were turned out and the truck engine growled a last check of the forlorn goat confirmed that the patter of tiny hooves was close but not immanent and baby watch was postponed until after dinner ( farmers have to eat too !!). After 9pm Acorn’s misery had clearly increased to intolerable and kid number one made it’s appearance…..the wrong way around….butt first ! Greg had his work out extricating the tiny brown body and as the newborn landed in the straw,  Acorn took one disgusted look at her offspring …and exited, stage left !!!. Little Peanut wasn’t breathing, he was wet and it was cold, very cold. Acorn had no interest in being a mom to the little alien lying motionless in the straw and it was left to poppa Greg to bring life back to the little body. The kid had aspirated as his umbilical corn had been broken before he was born and he had swallowed amniotic fluid which had to be cleared. Things weren’t looking good and then it got worse. Twin number two arrived. Greg held his breath, Acorn began to lick the new arrival ……and then head butted it. Two tiny wet shivering kids, a very cold night and a mom with no interest….looks like we are back to bottle feeding. Things couldn’t get much worse…or could it ? Wednesday morning a check of the less than enthusiastic mom proved that she had retained the placenta and was clearly not a happy goat. Back to work…..take care of two hypothermic kids and a sick momma goat ….that’s farming !!

Got to go, Peanut and Thumper are alive and well. Enjoy the photos….we are off to the barn, work to do !

Take care, keep safe, M           

The farm valley has resounded with the clamouring sound of honking geese and the unmistakeable sight of a perfect “v” formation flying team circling the  pond. Mom and pop geese, back from their Winter migration are already firmly established on the island nest and have laid claim to the farm pond. Consistently resisting any arriving visitors, only allowing a brief layover for the dozens of weary travellers that arrive daily, Mom and pop sail serenely around their pond keeping watch for incoming flights. Sunday morning we observed another group arrival and fully expected yet another battle to ensue. We expected the usual frantic wing flapping and resonant honking, we expected the visiting geese to be driven to the south forty and eventually to just leave but they didn’t. On Sunday evening, watching from the barnyard we witnessed a heart melting moment. Quest the big bay Shire gelding was standing by the barn gate, two geese were quietly sitting side by side on the bank of the pond. Mom and Pop, the annually returning geese were calmly roosting on the island, the waters were still and all was peaceful at the farm. We watched him turn his giant head to look at the geese on the bank. One of the two geese on the bank started to walk towards the great horse, Quest lowered his head to the ground and  walked to meet the goose and the unlikely pair stood, nose to bill.  We held our breath for a long moment, had Gertie come home and had the goose and the horse recognised each other ?  Our question was answered when Gertie, tail wagging and head bobbing walked calmly to stand under Quest’s legs…..and she was followed ( much more cautiously !) by a second goose….Valentine ? On Monday evening, Quest heard Greg’s whistle resounding over the pasture and as usual, the giant Shire came galloping over the brow of the hill ….flying alongside him, at shoulder height were the geese. As Quest ground to a sliding stop, the geese landed at his feet and there they stayed as Quest was led out of the pasture gate. Gertie has  returned to the pond island where she hatched and we were able to witness the long anticipated re union with her longtime Shire friend.

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

In the far corner of the cosy cedar goat nursery two little brown and white bundles sleep soundly. Little Bonny’s head resting on Buster’s back, Buster’s head buried under his sibling’s tummy. In the adjoining goat pen, the herd dynamics have unexpectedly changed. Miss Acorn, the nut brown LaManche doe is a goat with attitude. ( Mmmm….seems like attitude is becoming more prevalent around this ranch, Charm…Bran…Misty Moo…..ME ?????) and we fully expected trouble when the adorable little twins arrived and stole the limelight. Grumpy Acorn has had a persona transplant and has transformed into Auntie Acorn, babysitter extraordinaire. A sleepy grunt, a hungry bleat or an excited squeal brings a big brown goat running to investigate. Aggressive Acorn will sleepily watch eight little hooves bounce around her…bounce on her and play peek a boo under her chin. As Acorn’s trim LaManche body has expanded and her udder has swollen we are on baby watch again. Clearly Acorn was a little more resistant to Macho the buck’s attentions, “little Acorns” aren’t immanent but we are confident that it wont be long before the “wanna be” mom has her own little cuties to coddle.

In the chicken house, the ladies are back from their annual industrial action. Daily threats alluding to chicken soup and recriminations about eating and not producing are no longer necessary. In the nest boxes contented hens quietly sit and watch the world go by, beautiful brown eggs are plentiful and all is well.

Today is a short diary, the cuckoo clock has just reminded me that time is passing faster than my one finger can type and my ageing laptop takes forever to download.

Take care, keep safe, M

There’s something unexpected raising broad smiles around the farm these days. The “something” isn’t the equine oldies taking a bone rattling roll in the mud spot they have tirelessly created. The “something” isn’t the two big Shire horses, lady and Quest, galloping wild and free across the pasture it isn’t even the duo of  tiny goat kids, Buster and Bonny curled into an intertwined ball asleep in the straw. The source of the smiles….around the back of the barn, carefully tended, covered and turned  is a HUGE pile of smelly steaming rich black POO. Breathless phone calls are received, “do you have manure ?”…cautious phone calls…”you STILL have some manure ?” and the jubilant “I’m on my way !!!” Trucks arrive with boxes built in, trucks arrive with liners and with trailers to load the optimum amount of poo … and often leave overloaded, springs bottomed out and sub frames groaning but always with the biggest smiles.

Whilst scooting around the barn, possibly finishing one chore, working on another and considering my next mission ( multifunctioning is something you learn very quickly on the ranch) I began to think  about the various signs around the barn. We have signs that have been created by people special to us over the years, each sign reminds me of wonderful people and great times. Each sign still brings a big smile each time I pass. The cement we laid will forever be marked with a juvenile grafitti, little hearts, dates and initials and built into breeze blocks little memories that will one day be found. This ranch has been built by a lot of people, friends, family and WOOFERs and all with love…many of the notes will over time fade…but the memories wont.

I’m enclosing in todays photos a very special photo…a Mum J birthday portrait, Thank you for “adopting” me mum and for all the special times we have shared.

Well, time I got going, there are eight horses, two cows, 4 goats, 15 sheep, 2 lucky turkeys and 150 (ish) chickens all with their tummy time clocks running and their alarm clocks are about to go off. It’s breakfast time down at the barn and Bran the border collie is ready and waiting.

PS......Gentle Giant Meadows Ranch chickens are back off their Winter vacation / industrial action and nest boxes are FULL !!!!

Take care, keep safe, M       

First things first, Happy birthday to Mum J, 81 years young today. We are happy you are sharing our life Mum, we love you.

We were on butt watch, we were on udder watch and we were on “any day now” watch….today we would like to introduce Buster and Bonny…so now we are on “where are they now ?” watch. Alicia the LaMancha  goat doe isn’t a very brave girl. As we watched her tiny kids wiggle jiggle and kick in her tummy Alicia moaned miserably, the stronger the activity within…..the louder and more continuous her wailing became. The little doe was turning her head 360 degrees accusingly looking at her grinding muscles and between her pathetic moans and groans clearly wondering what WE had done to her. As we closed up the barn after a last check on the piteous lady in waiting we wondered if her current affliction would be resolved overnight and her clearly very active offspring would be giving her a new reason to be miserable in the morning. Buster the little buck and Bonny the little Doe had been born in the early hours of the morning while no one was watching. Mom, Alicia had given them a wash and brush up and the two little kids, warm dry and fluffy were resting in a nest of yellow straw when we peeked over the stall door yesterday. Alicia had clearly recovered, her pathetic bleating had been replaced by a contented grunting and she was back to her number one priority….eating. All is well in the goat pen, Acorn the nut brown doe is still waiting, so guess what….we are back on butt and udder watch again !

Time for me to sign off and get down to the barn, take care, keep safe, M         

 

What do you call the child in the playground that spots another child playing with a football and takes the ball away ………a bully, right ? Here at Gentle Giant Meadows Ranch, we have our own version of the school bully, Mr. Starbuck, the mild mannered (most of the time) black Appaloosa with no spots is “feeling” Spring and frankly, I REALLY think Charm the golden palomino is looking forward to Summer. Breakfast at the hay feeder is now clearly on a priority basis and Mr. Starbuck is top priority. Charm has become accustomed to snatching a bite when “the boss” isn’t looking, to dodging two flying heels that seem to be able to kick around corners and to duck to avoid gnashing teeth and the flat back ears that appear without warning through the top of the hay. What goes around comes around and having for the longest time been “top of the totem pole”, Charm has learnt patience, Starbuck eats first and Charm cleans up. As the Wintery sun shone over the pastures yesterday, we watched as Charm idly picked up a big stick and started to play with it. Shaking his head from side to side, up and down, tossing his head, dancing and prancing as the stick bounced and waved in his mouth.  Busily guarding the hay feeder and with a mouth still full of hay, Starbuck spied Charm entertaining himself without permission and set out across the grass to investigate what he was missing. The palomino saw Starbuck, ears back and neck stretched, intently heading in his direction and he dropped the sick. The aggressor picked up the stick and instantly dropped it disinterested and satisfied that it wasn’t a tasty titbit. Charm recovered the play stick and resumed his entertainment only to have the recess bully take the “ball” again and chase Charm, kicking and bucking around the field as punishment for his insubordination. Poor Charm. It has to be said in Starbuck’s defence, a stallion for the first seven years of his life, he is only displaying classic herding instinct and …….someone has to be in charge….don’t they ?

Walking into the henhouse, two buckets of chicken grain and my egg basket in hand, there was a sharp peck on my leg. No hands free and intent on collecting the days egg production I carried on walking. There was another sharp peck followed by yet another. Irritated by the harassing chicken I determined that one more peck and the aggressor was potential chicken soup and there it was, peck, peck…. PECK !!! Done, there at my feet was a little Rhode Island Red chicken, looking just like all the others staring up at me intently and preparing to peck yet again. I swooped, scooped the bird into my arms…. and she began to croon, quietly and contentedly. Henrietta had been trying, the only way she knew how to get my attention….and it worked. Henrietta got her cuddle.
Oops, timed out, got to go. Take care, keep safe, M

There isn’t too much blog worthy news today…..the Sikora Home Team has got the game back under control and despite aching old bones and being VERY ready for our warm comfy bed with our 2 comforters a fleecy throw and Mom Sikora’s home stitched quilt, we are having a lot of fun !
We are still on kid watch, both Alicia and Danielle are looking like beached whales with udders extended to bursting point and clearly very tired of being “expectant moms” they look miserable. They are very close to their due date and as Macho the big Boer buck has in the past been very “efficient” we are fully expecting the patter of tiny hooves imminently.
Tiger and Shy two of our three barn cats are getting old. We picked up the two tiny kittens (the cute but wild products of a feral mom) from an advert in the Little Nickel when we first arrived here. The old timers in the neighbourhood warned that they weren’t going to be around very long….wild dogs, coyotes, racoons, eagles and owls were waiting to make them a quick lunch but every morning the wily brothers are in the barnyard ready to welcome the truck…and make sure breakfast is served in a timely manner. It appears that, either there is a scarcity of rodent life or the boys are getting too slow. Shy the big ginger and white cat was lurking on top of the stock trailer which is currently wintering in the barn. It looked like he was toying with something, ears alert his eyes were fixed on the clearly still alive and mobile “something” that he was batting with his paws. We watched awhile, strange to see the cat that smooches around our legs purring, transformed into a creature driven by primeval instinct to kill. Shy was not too happy when a subtle movement from his audience (us) caused him to take his eye off his victim which took the opportunity to make a break for it. It seems that leaping off the top of the trailer ( for a tiny rodent, like leaping off the Grand Canyon) was preferable to spending a moment longer in Shy’s company. Shy the cat who had lost his lunch for a moment looked confused, where had his meal on legs gone ? He looked around, looked at us accusingly and then looked over the edge of the trailer top following the escape route. Next time Shy.
Tiger the ginger cat thought that he had a great idea. Ambush ! Not too old to climb the apple tree and wait out for an unsuspecting feathered meal he is too slow to react and snag one. To add insult to injury… sadly I think he is also too old to get back down easily and yesterday, as dusk fell, there was a loud mewing from the direction off the apple tree outside the barn door. Embarrassingly for our feline friend, Tiger the predator had to be rescued. 
Quest’s training…re training….is going well. Since the “trainer” he went to before he came home ( see Almost Daily Diary  late August early September) has disappeared we aren’t sure just how “trained” he is. Frustratingly, my old bones are in no condition to be bounced and as all horse lovers know..it isn’t the falling off that is the problem, it’s the hitting the ground !! Quest has been an Angel and our ride, with reins attached to his headcollar and an anxious Greg firmly attached to the lead rope took us further from the farm than ever before. This time, I had the brakes, steering and accelerator. It seems that our poor Quest did learn something during his very sad experience away from home. 
Time to go, it looks COLD out there but our thoughts are with friends and family in the eye of an impending snow storm which will apparently dump a lot of snow over the East Coast. Take care over there.
Over here, in the cold dry Pacific North West, take care, keep warm and safe. M