There are days when you just know that it’s going bad… and it’s only going to get worse. Yesterday just happened to be one of those days and yes, it did get worse, a lot worse !

Sitting in a Tacoma doctor’s office, already 45 minutes behind schedule, Greg was snoring up a storm, it was cold, there wasn’t a dog eared magazine in sight and clearly the specialist was running on his own 24 hour clock because he surely wasn’t running on ours. Greg’s cell phone with the ring tone taped amid the tumult and clamour of the chicken house clucked and squawked into life. The last snore was suddenly stifled between throat and nose, Greg’s book bounced to the floor with a resounding thud and his cell phone continued to squawk until sleepy Greg responded to it. The caller was Eric, a very nice neighbour who thankfully considers it his duty to alert us to ongoing situations on and around the ranch. Thanks to this conscientious neighbour, raccoons, Coyotes and other four and two legged species bent on some misdemeanour or other have been persuaded to frequent another location. So there, helpless in an office where time seems to stand still..or go backwards, Eric alerted us to the fact that we had “sheep” on the road. The strange thing about the English language is that the singular for one sheep is “sheep”, confusingly, so is the plural. Consequently as the call was disconnected we were unaware whether the escape involved just one sheep or if the entire flock had staged a breakout but, clearly the escapee ( escapees) had to be retrieved. Our wonderful WOOFER Carla, home alone, fortunately interrupted her morning’s activities to take the call “ Lamb alert, lamb alert”. By all accounts faster than two shakes of a lambs tail Carla was in action, the errant escapee apparently unsure of his exit point and therefore unable to go back whence he came tried to make his body fit where it was already too tight for his head. No body ever said lambs were cute AND smart !!! Our thanks to capable Carla for the rescue and to Eric and Marcus for their help and support.

The news from the doctor’s office, well, I know no more than I did before the visit but as that appears to be the norm, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised !

Just as Carla was settling down to another project, pandemonium that couldn’t easily be ignored erupted in the goat pasture. Upon investigation it was discovered that Alissia, our LaMancha doe had attempted to scale the fence into the chicken pen. This was clearly not the smartest of moves by our milk goat, (1) the chicken pen has an aroma that even makes Macho the buck (in the heat of the rut) smell preferable and (2) the chicken pen has a green nylon net over it to dissuade Eddie the eagle from his fly by forays. Typically, if there is trouble to be found, a goat will discover it ….and Alyssia did, in fine style. Somehow the doe managed to snare her leg in the netting, capturing her shoulder tight and rendering her in urgent need of rescue. Carla to the rescue…again !

Somehow, in the early hours of the morning it would appear that Roman the black Morgan gelding must have had a snack attack. Last night, a last minute check of stall doors confirmed all our charge lings were safely tucked up for the night, fed watered and groomed. This morning upon opening the barn door and catching glimpse of a copious black butt disappearing around the corner,the initial impression was that one of our bovine ladies had broken out of her stall. The escapee was a very non repentant Roman who happily allowed himself to be returned to his stall in time for breakfast. On checking the latch on his stall, it was determined that Charm had apparently been mouthing the catch and had unintentionally allowed Roman to escape. We are pretty convinced that it was unintentional….Charm would not have given Roman the advantage of anything he himself hadn’t checked out first. Whatever qualities Charm may possess do not include charity !!
Gimpy the ewe so named because trying to keep the old girl on her feet is a full time occupation had another manicure.  Once caught, Gimpy resigns herself to the indignity of reclining on her back, udder and legs akimbo whilst Greg and Carla make right what mother Nature was so negligent on. The ewe is once again restored to all four legs... until the next time.
Well, I've been sitting a while and it's time I found some other trouble to get into. Time to post this diary entry, please take care and keep safe. M

Mmmmmmmm Big brother John was out and about in Tacoma last night, he arrived back after curfew and Bran the dog was more than happy to blow the whistle on his return, no chance of being un noticed around here!   John was smart though, sitting very conspicuously on the kitchen table are two boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts…..I’m not usually open to blackmail…but under the circumstances …! Thank’s John !!

John and Alyson leave today, flying to Great Britain and back to normalcy. We will miss them both but look forward to seeing big brother back  complete with his obligatory  silly hat and Alyson’s big smile some time in the near future. We wish both you a safe trip and an easy transition back into the real world. John has achieved much around here and the barn kitchen will be a permanent reminder of his visit here.

Attention here at the ranch has been turned to Cody and Song, the goat kids who are on the verge of finding the milky bar permanently closed. Friday is the cut off date and no more plastic Pepsi bottles with little rubber teats will be answering the pathetic bleats from the goat pen. Carla has been priming the little ones and gently putting morsels of grain where the teat aught to go…but if goats could swear,….those little kids really owe my swear jar. They are less than impressed and curled lips, clamped teeth and projectile spitting were their thanks for her efforts. Sorry kids, life’s tough and it has been decreed that it is time to grow up. We will be keeping a close eye on them but I really should be issuing pneumatic strength ear plugs to anyone within a mile of the farm.

Sadly, the two flags that fly high over the farm, the Star Spangled Banner and the Union Jack are in need of repair. The winds that whipped and the torrential rain that lashed the flags through the Winter months have forced us to temporarily retire them but even without our flags, we considered ourselves patriotic. That was until Tuesday, there were three British nationals in the barnyardtotally unaware of the importance of the day until Brian arrived with a cake….a beautifully decorated scrumptious chocolate cake and said cake was in honour of St Georges Day. St George is the patron Saint of Great Britain and here, deep in the heart of the pacific North West we had forgotten. To deepen our guilt…..it took an American to remind us. Shame on us. Must get those flags back up as soon as possible !

Quatre and Carla the intrepid twosome have almost completed patching up the hole in the barn floor. For several years this particular hole has been on Greg’s ever growing priority list. Well aware that it was a potential “quick way down” Greg has fretted over that hole and the potential disasters that could befall the unwary, thanks to the girls the hole is no more. Each new project is a challenge and under Greg’s watchful guidance challenges are being met in every field, thanks girls.    

Well, the blossom is all flowering in the orchard, the grass is growing as we watch and the trees are all turning green….it looks like Winter is behind us. Time for me to go, take care, keep safe, M

Well, the Pacific North West is practically tropical ! Sitting here looking out over the ranch with the wind chime playing (?) the wedding march…(now I never have worked out how they came up with that, but that’s what it said on the box), the horses peacefully ( for the most part !) grazing, the sheep synchronized eating team mowing their pasture and the band of five lying under the cedar tree expending as little energy as possible, life is almost perfect.

It is pretty much the “Hudson” team today, Quatre is spending time in Seattle, perfecting her two step  and Carla is off to spend a couple of days with her nearest and dearest. My guess is they still wake up with the sun, imagine frogs croaking all night and at 7.30am are up and ready for the barn, wondering why they can’t hear the mournful moo of a hungry Daisy Mae. Meanwhile, Big brother John and his daughter Alyson back from a busy weekend playing tourist and doing some retail therapy are back to reality, the ranch and poo…lots of poo. It can’t be said that John has a great….in fact, he has NO affinity to cleaning stalls but John appears bright and early each morning for role call. Two slices of toast with butter and strawberry jam, a nice hot cup of English tea with milk and despite a curled up nose under his silly hat, big brother John is prepared to wander stall to stall with a steaming wheelbarrow, flakes of hay or a dripping hosepipe. Alyson clearly has a daily battle to prise herself off the mattress and is a self confessed “city girl”  but stoically ambles down to the barn with a smile on her face… .no doubt wondering what each day will bring ! Currently Greg and the Hudson team are out in the trees, practicing being lumberjacks for the day, hopefully the freshly baked chocolate cookies will be adequate  compensation for hard labour…but maybe not !

The white Cornish Cross chicks (aka the Sumos) are about four weeks old. Soft, squishy and fat. An executive decision was made and it was decided that they had spent enough time  squatting between the feeder and the water (they appear to be very conservative on how much energy is expended) and it was high time that our portly little chicks got out to see the big wide world. A sumo roundup isn’t too energetic, the birds just plant themselves indignantly on their corpulent butts and squeak in protest as they are unceremoniously dumped into the dewy grass to learn how to be real chickens.

Chickens appear to have featured over the past couple of days. There would appear to have been a malfunction with one of our laying hens. Carla noticed during our regular evening egg hunt that the “egg end” of Hattie the hen didn’t appear to have returned to whence it came and our poor feathered friend was wearing her inside outside. A prolapsed chicken was a bit of a venture into the unknown, chickens are sadly not inclined to nurture their sick and infirm and Hattie’s prognosis wasn’t good. A couple of hours in the hen sick bay, a quick consult with Google, a foray into the medicine cabinet and doctor Greg and his more than able assistant Carla were back down to the barn armed with a tube of haemorrhoidal cream and basic Google instructions to put Hattie’ s butt back where it belonged. Apparently, said salve was duly applied to startled hen, appropriate pressure was applied to offending and protruding “bits” and Hattie the hen is as good as new. Thanks Google !!!!

Followers of lamb Chop will be happy to know he was quickly released from his solitary confinement…we couldn’t take the constant and very loud vocal bombardment and the poor boy looked so very miserable. Every day Mr. Lamb Chop is treated to a thorough butt wash and a double dose of probiotics before he is released to eat his weight in grass and more of the same. Poor Lamb chop, and he thinks he is special…..he is.

Well, time to go and get my next infusion dose of “ get me well” stuff….it is a nightly procedure and it is all getting a little tedious but if it gets me back in the saddle it will be worth it. Take care, keep safe, M    

Bringing the cows home here at Gentle Giant Meadows Ranch is never quite the same. Each day around 2pm Molly Moo and her pasture pals mooch aimlessly down to the watering hole and sometimes they do what they do best…nothing. Molly, Daisy Mae, Hol-ley Rodney and Macho collapse in an ungainly heap, grass sleepy and mellow. The three rapidly growing calves invariably loiter never far away using the older cows as their mentors, where to eat, where to drink and when. Jaws work in unison as they recycle the days intake and wait for the gate to open. Sometimes Greg has to be the mechanised cowboy and with Bran the Border Collie balanced precariously on the hood of the atv the disinclined animals are rounded up and, ably assisted by Bran ( ?) returned to the safety of the barn. With the gates safely closed behind the last rolling round butt, each animal locates it’s respective grain allowance in it’s respective feed station. That’s how it should… and sometimes does happen !  Then there are the occasions when, sadly,the exercise is less than perfectly executed…. last night, Goliath Samson and Delilah galloped down to the gate, anxious to be home. The girl team galloped to the gate…anxious to get them in and then, reality hit  this was not going to be the slam dunk we had anticipated !... Molly Moo and her chums were still loitering around the watering hole at the top of Cow Lane and weren't looking like moving anytime soon.   Some were in and some were out... and now we had a problem…actually 5 problems. A little vocal persuasion eventually enticed little Hol-ley home and whilst some of the girl team tried to keep three calves securely located in the pen the remainder endeavoured to convince Molly Moo,Rodney and Macho to meander in the right direction without too many diversions on the way. Daisy Mae heavily pregnant, miserable and  lumbering brought up the rear party and eventually joined the melee in the cow pen, all  looking for their evening ration, a routine procedure that had degenerated into chaos reminiscent of a poorly supervised game of musical chairs ! The confusion was in no small part thanks to Bran the Border Collie who, recognizing that things weren’t as they should be set about trying to  herd everything with four legs a head and a tail that so much as breathed. Eventually, Rodney safely locked in his pen found his bucket which had almost evaporated after a quick visit from Goliath, the three calves had located the big cow’s rations for a triple taster test and Macho the buck disgustedly  refused to partake of his supper after Daisy Mae had checked it out and likely seasoned well with cow drool. Fortunately, Greg…principal cow person wasn’t around to witness the confusion and with the last animals nose buried in a bucket ( with the exception of Macho ) and the gates firmly secured we were able to turn our attention to the waiting ewes. The sheep and their lambs waiting by the gate were anxious, it was grain time, the cows were home and why the delay?   The girl team made an impetuous decision and their starter gate was opened. The sheep derby led by Katie, closely followed by Bandit and Chance hurtled down cow lane and headed straight for the sheep barn where all screeched to a halt in total disgust. The girl team in their hurry to bring everyone home had neglected to fill the sheep feeder, the formation eating team were not slow in expressing their disgust and we were met by a deafening bawl that resounded around the barn. Not our usual methodical, by the book kind of day but everyone made it home safely and Greg wasn’t there to witness the chaos and anarchy.
 Time to go down for the evening shift…it’s raining cats and dogs and sure to be a very bad hair day.
Take care, keep safe, M

Poor Lamb Chop, have you ever heard of a sheep who is allergic to grass ? We’ve got one ! Throughout the Winter our boy has been happily cohabiting with the flock of ewes who though not overly welcoming have allowed the ugliest lamb on earth to share their patch. The Spring grass has arrived and daily the voracious formation eating team and their equally voracious offspring led by matriarch ewes Gimpy and Bandit head out to the pasture. Daily, Lamb Chop with his mucky butt, asymmetrical horns and on his skinny little uncoordinated legs hops after them, in no particular hurry, the grass will still be there and he has grown immune to Bran the Border Collie’s “persuasive” harrying. Just recently the poor boy has been carrying  a little extra weight… on his butt. We fully understand, what goes in must come out but in poor Lamb Chop’s case what is coming out is way more than he put in and it is time for an executive decision. Lamb Chop is not too impressed at being removed from the harem but being in solitary means more carrot morsels and lots of people attention so for his uncomplicated brain it isn’t too bad a trade off. His bath isn’t going to be much fun…for him or us but medicating him is easy, if it’s going in his mouth, it’s all good. Poor Lamb Chop, it is a good job the scruffy ugly uncoordinated incontinent lamb has a really cute personality ..and I’ve got his back!!!!

Lamb Chop update ( and no photographs !!). The potential patient watched his erstwhile pasture pals desert him this morning, not a ewe spared a back glance as Greg retained him in the pen. Lamb Chop was due a wash and brush up followed by a good haircut and a hefty dose of probiotics. Half a ton of carrot morsel blackmail later and the scruffy lamb is looking nearly as good as new which was possibly more than could be said for Carla and Greg who were working on the rear end and Alyson who was trying to keep eating machine occupied. 

Big brother John and his daughter Alyson (my niece) arrived back from their expedition to Oregon. Judging by the number of bags they left with and the number of bags that returned with them, more time was spent exploring the outlet malls than the Oregon coastline!  So John is getting retrained by daughter Alyson in the intricacies and technique required to meet mucking out spec on Gentle Giant Meadows ranch. Clearly, getting up close and personal to what comes very naturally to six cows Rodney the Ram and “ever ready” buck Macho doesn’t find itself at the top of John’s “100 things to do before I die” list but British stiff upper lip has prevailed and alongside daughter Alyson big brother John has scooped the poop like a pro although it has been reported that muttering under the breath and a few hefty curses were heard.

Happy birthday to Hannah and thanks to Natalie for the yummie cup cakes !

Well, time I got this posted, I believe that I’m well overdue.

 Take care, keep safe, M

I’m back, it has been a pretty hectic few days, I swear I have earned a head full of grey hair and several more wrinkles.. and if I wasn’t superstitious about Friday 13 before, I am now! It felt like everything went wrong and all at the same time. Big brother Johns daughter Alyson arrived in Sea Tac courtesy of British Airways, very late and without a suitcase. Apparently the hold had frozen during the flight and couldn’t be opened. Not a good situation, I guess Customs weren’t happy  and neither were 200 passengers on vacation with no clothes!! Oops. Just got a call, the bags will be here after 1pm ( today is Sunday)….Alyson arrived on Thursday and without any clothes, something tells me that British Airways aren’t going to get a Christmas card this year.

At the same time, Camille our lovely French volunteer had problems with immigration when she came back to continue her adventure in Alaska. Please note… ANY foreign national WOOFERS coming to the US MUST have a work permit even though they are volunteers and NOT being paid. Sadly we were also unaware, lesson learnt, the very hard way.

Meanwhile the infection which has apparently taken up residence in my spine and can not/will not be evicted flared up again. A pic line was inserted after a couple of practice runs ( my veins are done with being poked ) and, just to keep things interesting, the entry site for the pic line (and the three practice holes) decided to bleed…a lot. Another unplanned trip to Tacoma!

   By this time Bran had had quite enough excitement for one day and disappeared…  having fed the five thousand ( well, it seemed like it !!) I really wanted to follow suit. How can so much happen in so short a time ?

Back to the Ranch. With the sun shining and the prospect of an unbelievable rain free run (well,.. about 3 days) Greg took the opportunity to repair fences that had suffered through the Winter storms.  Carla is quickly learning fencing skills, an essential farming lesson… we do like to see our livestock on the right side of the fence and if there is one tiny break you can be sure some little critter will find it. But Friday 13th wasn’t finished with us yet… Carla’s aptitude for learning and all Greg’s booklearning and life’s lessons couldn’t have prepared them for Bessie the big Chevi farm truck deciding to take herself a mud bath..a deep thick gooey sticky mud bath and she was not going to get out by herself. Time to bring in the big guns and pray that the tractor doesn’t join the truck which was beginning to look like she had every intention of being a permanent feature in the pasture. Out trundled the old Kukji, bumping and grinding up the farm road to rescue the stranded Bessie. Out came the old tow rope which was attached to the still sinking truck. Wheels turning just dug her in deeper but, with the tractor actually lifting off it’s front tyres and mud flying Bessie the no longer silver Chevi emerged from the myre and back onto solid ground. On a positive note, she did get a well overdue bath and Carla, returning the tractor to the barn was able to practice her tractor driving somewhere she couldn’t cause any damage. Smile.

It is nice to see the livestock out in the Summer pastures, up to their knees in bright green juicy Spring grass. Lady returned to the barn last night grass sleepy and content. Offers of  hay were clearly rejected, carrots were half heartedly accepted and I think the old Shire mare was possibly asleep when Greg fastened the cinch and put on her bridle. Molly moo and her four cohorts slowly waddled back to the cow barn and a very rotund Gimpy, Lamb Chop and the sheep eating team managed to round up their rambunctious offspring in time for an orderly if slower that normal return to their barn. Charm, Mr. Beauty with attitude was so satiated that he forgot to prance and dance when saddled up and Greg and Carla had a comparatively sedate plod through the forest trails as the sun went down.

Time to go, hopefully life will settle down again. Keep us in your thoughts. Take care, keep safe, M   

It’s wet again, wet dreary and grey but the grass is growing and the leaves and blossoms are breaking out into brilliant shades of green pink and white. I’m still not back down to the barn but, on pain of torture and worse the team have dutifully reported blog worthy moments and captured blog worthy photographs for me to use on my not quite almost daily diary.

Goliath, the little Guernsey steer with deep dark eyes and eye lashes to die for and Sampson and Delilah the two little Fresian calves have graduated. Yesterday the executive decision was made ( and not by me) that the three musketeers were all grown up and it was time to leave the safety of the nursery. It has to be said Sampson Delilah and Goliath were not entirely ecstatic about the change in their living arrangements but, with Greg out in the lead and Bran (much too willingly) niggling at their heels they dutifully if hesitantly followed. Once out of the nursery pasture and into the big wide world three little sets of bovine eyes widened and the three sets of little hooves screeched to a grinding halt. Which way ? easily answered, all points of the compass were covered… Goliath headed for the muck pile, Samson spotted some juicy grass just where he wasn’t supposed to be and little Miss Delilah headed back right where she had come from. Clearly, the gate would have been better firmly closed as the last little black and white butt exited, (easily said from my vantage point in the kitchen window) but, sadly, there it was, open and inviting and little Delilah’s not one to miss an opportunity. Bran the Border Collie was spoilt for choice but choose which one ? A speedy nip to remind Goliath who was in charge earned a well aimed cow kick…and Bran was reminded it wasn’t him, once again!  Undaunted (?) Bran slinking behind Greg ( sensible dog !) as he attempted to head off the errant Sampson who was still munching where he really shouldn’t be. Quatre played “catch me if you can” with Delilah who still didn’t want to grow up and a “round and round the garden” followed by a round of three times round the beautifully smouldering manure pile ensued . Eventually all safely rounded up and persuaded to venture into Cow Lane with the gate closed firmly behind them the troublesome threesome had a new and even bigger concern, actually, 5 bigger concerns ! Like a Mexican standoff in a really bad B Western movie they were all waiting for the overly anxious calves at the other end of the lane. All in a line, Daisy-Mae, Hol-ley, Molly, Macho and Rodney the ram were waiting, heads down intently and none too welcoming eyeing the intruders in their pasture. By the gate and with nowhere to go, the calves froze, no one moved…then little Hol-ley could take it no more and, apparently suddenly recognising her old playmates, tail firmly in the air broke rank and joyfully galloped towards the gate. The calves dispersed in horror at the vision careering towards them and all three tumbled in panic towards the reception line. Trapped between a confused and wanting to play, Hol-ley the little Dexter calf and the apparent combatants at the end of the lane the new all grown up graduates screeched to a halt and there they stayed,….all day.

Alissia and Acorn ably assisted by Song and Cody the goat kids have been turned loose in New Field for the first time. Typically, despite having enough forage to render them feet in the air, Song found that the weeds on the other side of the fence were clearly more inviting than the dandelions that were in ample supply in her designated pasture. Fortunately for what is left of my garden after Lamb Chops recent “visit” which resulted in my pansies and roses looking like a swarm of locusts had stopped by for a quick lunch, Bran was waiting and very ready !! Sadly, the little doeling has little respect for authority and Bran’s attempt at restraint just met with disdain. Song reared up on her little back legs and boxed at the dog. Fortunately..for Bran, big brother John arrived on the scene before we had a knock out ! Song was returned to her brother and the hole in the fence was speedily repaired.

On the subject of big brother John, his latest project, tiling the barn kitchen has been a huge success and is drawing to a close. When the “boss” ( that’s me) is happy, the world is happy and a nice clean tiled barn kitchen makes me very happy. Thank you John. Now…..what’s next ????

Time for me to go, the sun is shining this morning and it’s going to be a lovely weekend. Take care, keep safe, M