Just a quick diary this morning, a domestic crisis has become the issue of the day…and it’s not even 6.30am. One eye open, tooth brush in one hand and mug of tea (essential !) in the other I wandered into the kitchen, empty other than an expectant looking Bran the dog. Normal morning routine means “mum” greets dog and dog, having dutifully tolerated “mum’s” ministrations then expectantly waits for remuneration in the form of a giant sized dog biscuit. This morning was NOT normal, feet were hanging out of the crawl space into the attic and it was too early to be Santa Claus. The steady drip drip plop into a plastic bucket in the middle of the room didn’t require Sherlock Holmes to determine that we have a leak in the roof. The confused dog remained expectant, but bewildered….”dad” was up a hole in the roof  (without him) mum was walking round with a tooth brush and a mug and still no biscuit treat. Clearly it is going to be a BAD day.

So, quick update…Carla is safely home from Sunny California and it was raining on her return. Quatre is due home this morning from Sunny California…and it’s still raining. On the television, MJ Fox 13 excitedly informs the Pacific North West, (well, all those who happen to be up and about at silly oclock and not up a crawl space searching for a persistent leak in the roof) that we are under a National Flood Alert. Ummmmm……it has rained hard all night, it’s still dark….it’s still raining and we may not have a road when dawn breaks BUT nothing could compare to the horrific television coverage coming from the East Coast.

 Our hearts minds and prayers go out to the people that were/are in the path of the storm. We can’t imagine the enormity of the damage, it is almost overwhelming to watch the news coverage and our little leak seems relatively insignificant.

This kind of weather makes working outside much more… challenging. Flood control becomes so much more important than the 10 oclock muffin. Priorities have been rearranged as ditches drains and yes…our Chinese made gutters struggle to cope with the deluge falling from the sky. We are sorely tempted to add a little equine shampoo to the horses backs when we turn them out this morning. We have very warm temperatures and it was a difficult decision yesterday to leave them rug free….rug free = muddy wet nasty horses returning to the barn. Inspiration, wet horses+ shampoo = trouble free bath. Well, it was a nice thought, the old guys will get rugs over their creaky old backs and the rest of us will get very wet. Oh….except for Misty Moo who, playing “aunty Misty” to Mojo-Anne has her meals delivered to her stall and only a beautiful dewy Jersey cow nose peeks into the rain.

Got to go,

take care, keep safe well and dry, M   

Still raining, but after watching what the East coast is going through I think it may be prudent for me to cease and desist complaining…but…YESTERDAY the rain was torrential. The new Chinese plastic gutters happily DID manage to (1) remain in situ and intact and (2) actually direct the deluge in the right direction,. .just ! Malcolm’s new edition of the Great Wall of China constructed with much blood sweat and (nearly) tears in the heat of the summer looked more like Niagara Falls as the rain water threatened to wash away the creek bank. The cement by- pass made a very impressive diversion for the impending disaster and the white water as it cascaded down the cement conduit instead of the creek bank made all the hard work (Malcolm’s !!) worthwhile. It’s great when a plan works, we had THE biggest smiles on our faces. Passers by along the farm road must have considered an increasing level of the insanity they have suspected for years as they drove by, warm and dry in their vehicles to see us two standing in a fast growing lake that used to be a puddle in our no longer waterproof ( oh, and (curiously) incidentally, also Chinese outerwear…..watching the new hypothetical Rio Grande racing down hill into the new hypothetical Lake Eyre. ( I know…..wrong ends of the map but I did say hypothetical !)

The early morning routine is for Misty Moo to meet us at her pasture gate, have her head collar put on and lead her into the cow barn. This routine can be very efficient and within moments Misty the Jersey is ready to go out to play in the pasture with Molly Moo and her bovine pals. However, yesterday morning, in the pouring rain, the old English saying ( well it is isn’t it ????) ”The best laid plans of mice and men” came to mind. On occasion, Misty just wants to visit, beautiful doe like brown eyes with extended eyelashes and apparently heavy duty eyeliner look up at you. Sometimes she rubs her head gently against you and sometimes…as in yesterday Misty just says “NO”. As the rain fell, as the puddles got deeper, as my waterproofs got less waterproof and my boots began to leak the docile Jersey calf dug her heels ( hooves) into the ground and refused to take one calf step out of her nice cosy dry stall /shelter. I coaxed, I pulled, I pushed and Misty Moo sweetly but determinedly refused to take one tiny little hoof step out into the rain.  Wishing that my options were as simple and I could head back to my nice warm bed, wishing that it didn’t have to be raining quite so hard and, sadly, recognising that the cow clearly had more sense than me, I headed empty handed back into the rain. Last view of Misty as I left her pen, a very smug, warm and DRY Jersey calf peering around the corner of her shed. Humph !!

From disaster comes inspiration…sometimes. Misty had won the battle but she wasn’t going to win the war and I determined that some good would come of the situation. Mojo would learn by example how to be a cow, how to graze what to graze and where to graze from Misty Moo. Warm and dry in her stall deep in the barn, MoJo-Anne (MJ) peacefully slept. Tummy full of momma’s rich creamy milk, and rumens rumbling, it was time to take a nap before the next bottle.  Mojo had no thoughts about anything but her next feed, certainly not taking a paddle out to Misty’s field…but I did !! With me at the head end, Greg encouraging the reluctant rear and Bran the Border collie whirling in excited circles anywhere but where we wanted him, we steered the little red Dexter calf to go and reacquaint herself with the not much older honey coloured calf sensibly hiding from the rain in the field shelter. Mojo took on a look of pure terror as Misty’s amber eyes examined the alien that had just landed. Mojo didn’t know whether to back out of the closed gate or pee…..Mojo peed..then tried to back out.  Misty advanced on the strange furry red being that had just appeared, was it perhaps eatable ?

Oops…timed out, update next time. And it’s STILL raining !! Take care, keep safe. M 

Still wet, still dark…..not going to get any better but sure to get worse. Outside the kitchen window the rain falls incessantly, hopefully the barn roofs are holding back the potential deluge and we find no new puddles where puddles shouldn’t be. Less than confidently we will have the chance to evaluate that the newly installed Chinese guttering (which was given a BIG thumbs down after the farm team voted  the rubix cube easier and more stable to assemble) is ensuring that we wont be dodging raindrops all day.

Cooper the younger of the oldies at 20 is we firmly believe a Mr Jeckel and Mr Hyde personality. At 7.30am when the big barn doors slide open, old Mr Cooper turns into the Whirling Dervish. The big brown bay swirls and whirls around his stall, invariably his breakfast bucket lies barely eaten on the barn floor as he busies himself checking both doors to ensure NOTHING moves without him noticing and approving it first. There is a brief pause (thankfully !) while his rug is thrown on and safely fastened then it’s back to his frantic busy bodying. When the old horse vacates and there is time to breathe again and survey the damage….. Coopers stall looks like world war 3 has just been declared right there and Armageddon has arrived !   Post 8.30am Mr Hyde comes through, Cooper the big brown retired veteran leads out to the pasture looking like Dobbin, deep dark docile eyes and head low, he passively meanders out down the barn road.

Daisy May nearly had Greg paying his hypothetical 25c into the hypothetical swear jar yesterday morning. Daisy also chose yesterday to be a demon. Truth be told…. the milking session didn’t start well. Misty Moo, our little Jersey calf chose yesterday to get hormonal just as Daisy decided to get Satanic. For Misty Moo, it was simple, no dressing it up, no excuses, Misty Moo wanted a man…any man would do and with no men available Misty chose Daisy May. Just as a wicked looking Daisy May was fending off Misty’s lustful advances Greg tried to lead our “family milk cow” into the milking squeeze. After that, forget the backscratch….forget the tail….forget hobbling….forget milking. Daisy kicked and stomped, she tossed her big black head in annoyance and she kicked even harder. Greg’s milking stool went into orbit and the milk cups all became well and truly uncapped. Not a good session….time to look forward to the next session with LESS than optimism.

Good news….bar one half hearted kick at a pesky and persistent fly the evening session went well. Phew !!  Daisy provided us with a 16 cup haul. All is not lost, we all still have two arms and a working face…each !! .Daisy was trying to wipe them all out !!

Finally, quick update on little MoJo Anne (MJ). Mojo is fit healthy and hungry….all the time. The little calf recognizes the big plastic bottle and oversized red rubber teat from 40 yards and can inhale one and a half pints in about 20 seconds !!!

Time to go, still dark out there. Take care, keep safe and dry. M  

More rain forecast for today….followed by more…and yet more. The 80 something days of blistering sun, overbearingly hot temperatures and no rain are already a distant memory. It’s for sure with all this damp air, my hair will frizz and my face will colour up beetroot red.It’s time to pull out the comely (NOT) warm long johns(ok, …. I’ve admitted it, I’m really a down home farmer now) Forget colour co ordination, pink purple and red no longer clash if they are warm.  Size 20 isn’t too big if it makes the top layer of umptyump Winter warmers and I WILL wear a “meadow muffin” hat if it’s warm and I’m cold. ,  I feel so much better now I’ve got that off my chest…so, if someone comes to visit the ranch and find an oversize, frizzy haired, red faced, un coordinated bundle of clothes that clash outrageously……it’s sure to be me. So far the Fashion Police haven't visited and the livestock haven't commented. Just for the record.....neither has Greg ! (smile).

So, everything is under water, everything is dripping wet, everything is miserable and it’s undoubtedly going to get worse. Currently our equine barn residents are warm and dry in cosy stalls, the sheep are comfortable and secure in a big hairy hug  in the sheep barn and the cow barn will be full of cows snuggled up,  contentedly chewing their cud and jostling for favoured spots. We hope......we are never quite sure what will meet us when we open the barn doors !
Daisy May who calved just one week ago is not finding it too difficult to become adjusted to being our family milk cow ( yum)….the milking routine means that Daisy May who would sell her soul for another jug of grain gets an extra ration and a back scratch. The first couple of days would have set me firmly on the road to being a millionaire should my swear jar have still been operative. The new bovine momma has a very efficient cow kick and clearly Miss Daisy was a little ticklish in the area that mattered.( can you blame her?)  Greg and the milking machine were sorely challenged, Greg’s vocabulary was “rich” and Daisy May was irritated. It was challenging, Granny McMorrow’s “hold the tail” remedy was tried and very quickly refuted when Miss Daisy decided she wasn’t interested in ancient Irish wife’s tales and, just to prove her point, she kicked..... even harder. The milking machine spluttered and Greg put another hypothetical 25c into the hypothetical swear jar. I gave Daisy a back scratch, I rubbed her tail, I sang “ A Mother’s love’s a blessing” and I prayed that Greg’s wrist wouldn’t be broken, Daisy’s tail switched, she re adjusted her legs, we took a deep breath and Daisy melted.  Daisy May now walks willingly into the milking bay, she inhales her grain and she absorbs the twice daily back scratch ……without kicking. I have to admit that my off tone/key/note rendition of the old Irish folk song probably didn’t help….it maybe aggravated the situation… (but I think I sound good in the shower !!!) I believe that Daisy willingly donates a gallon and a half ….providing she gets her bucket of grain and a thorough back scratch which seems to me a pretty good trade.

Mojo-Anne is thriving. Still not particularly enthusiastic about wearing her blue head collar ( maybe not her colour) I have developed a strategy. Sometimes said strategy results in me riding a bucking calf and sometimes little Mojo-Anne just slips her little wet nose into the collar. The little lady already enjoys a neck rub and, on her short trips out to the pasture kicks, gallops and bucks.Hopefully she will get all that enthusiasm out of her system before she gets much bigger.  Each day for little MJ is an adventure….each day, wind rain snow or sunshine is for us  a treasured experience that we wouldn’t trade for a day back in a warm dry office…..mmmmm? …ok…maybe sometimes !!!.
Our big brown LaMancha goat doe Acorn has a lot of love to give and cleaning out her stall usually involves Acorn under the brush, eating the brush or chasing the brush. The wheelbarrow is always a source of investigation...rejected food is suddenly the most enticing morsel ever and if there is nothing too eat, it's always fun to tip the wheelbarrow over. 
Lady's re modeled stall is progressing and Winter shouldn't cause her any problems when her Ritzy stable is completed. Always happy up a ladder wielding a hammer Quatre helped Greg create the outer wall which will keep out the Winter wind and rain. Greg and I are currently home alone, Quatre is off to California today and Carla is also temporarily in the Golden State, hopefully the weather will be kinder to them than it is for us. Have fun girls !!! 
Got to go, a little brown calf is waiting for a bottle. Take care, keep safe and dry, M   

It’s Monday again, a cold dark morning and watching MJ, Fox 13 weather guru extraordinaire ramping up her enthusiasm for the swathe of green generated by our celebrated “double Doppler” 5 day weather forecaster. It looks like a run of green, green and just for good measure a little/lot more green. I guess we are going to be getting VERY wet and if MJ is even a little right……cold and getting colder. DOH. It doesn’t seem that long ago we were complaining about too much sunshine !!

Little Mojo-Anne is a week old, a too cute bundle of energy wrapped up in a curly red/brown coat and a squished up little Dexter nose. Each day Quatre walks the fast growing calf on a lead rope out to the pasture. A walk out to the pasture sounds simple….relatively short distance….as the crow flies, not so with baby Mojo-Anne. Every blade of grass, every weed, every grass hopper and each feather floating on the wind has to be investigated and stored in life’s memory file. Mojo skips, bounds on all four tiny hooves, bucks and subsequently just lies down. Life is good for the pampered little calf, four times a day her bottle is prepared, each huge plastic bottle topped by a oversized rubber teat contains three pints of frothing milk and as the final drops are vacuumed out, MoJo is searching for the next feed.

The “no blame policy” was called into play again and since it is not farm policy to name and blame, no blame has been allocated ……but it doesn’t stop me mentioning it, right ? Someone, who will remain un-named (but is the only one with a moustache around here) SOMEHOW managed to be reversing the quad ( not even the big Chevi truck !!!) into the huge barn. SOMEHOW it seems the “un named one” managed to persuade a normally totally inanimate plastic bucket to jump up from by Romans stall (where it has resided for over the past 12 months) and throw itself under the wheels of the four wheeler. Sadly the mangled bucket is in no state to let us know just HOW it performed this amazing feat. Good job is was Greg ( oops ! name dropped) driving, he always checks behind him……right ????

Well, I think the team are all “appled out” after yet another afternoon cutting squashing and squeezing…..several bottles of the amber liquid were won, boring apple juice and much more interesting apple wine prospects were secreted away and the shredded apple remains go to the horses/sheep/cows. Poor Quatre sustained two “not quite” life threatening cuts in the process but I am assured Quatre blood is not included in the apple juice. Phew !!! Nothing wasted and in a couple of months, when we have forgotten just how mundane Apple squeezing is ( maybe) we will enjoy the “fruits” of our labour !!

Quatre ( still walking  wounded and bravely uncomplaining) helped Greg to begin the transformation of Lady’s stall. Plans are to re model her ghetto into a warm cosy dry Ritz….ok….maybe Motel 6 !!! Since plans are always in Greg’s head, we have no idea of the final outcome but I’m sure the intrepid two will come up with a stall worthy of our noble shire mare.

Timed out, got to go. Take care, keep safe, M  

Autumn, “Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness…” or something like that. All so poetic, all so wondrous, ripening fruit, leaves transforming from green to gold, creeks rippling with sparkling alpine water…….fog, mud, floods, torrential rain. Rotting fruit alive with cold aggressive wasps, mounds of decaying leaves everywhere and little peep holes in the condensation on the window screen when you breathe too hard. Autumn here on the ranch means preparing for Winter. Anticipating the worst and praying for the best. Autumn here on the ranch means hauling hay out to hungry animals in fields devoid of grass, rugging up horses in the damp early morning chill. Going down to the barn in the pre dawn gloom, leaving the barn in the early evening darkness. Spiders as big as your hand emerging out of every dark corner of the cedar barn their intricate webs woven into apparently  lacy diamond studded wall hanging eerily defined by frozen dew. Autumn is a time when the bovine alarm clock tells our herd of pampered cows that its 6 o’clock and the old clock on the barn wall has fingers pointing to barely three. The sheep huddle up by the rusty old gate and the goats barely leave their warm clean pen. The horses, having long practiced and recently  perfected the art of looking "losing the will to live" miserable all day, heads hanging, manes and tails dripping, come back to the barn, bodies steaming under muddy, wet rugs. The chickens, also working on a time clock and clearly working on Union time allocate to go on their Autumn vacation, it's "drop wings, lift tail and it's a walk out."....all at once, no negociations, no discussion and 100% support .!!!!  Egg production all but ceases, the roosts are occupied by chickens puffed up to counter the cold winds and idle hens occupy empty nest boxes. Sparkling lazy creeks turn into white water and the farm pond overflows the road. Size 8 turns into Michelin woman as layer after layer of warm, warmer and North Pole resistant outer wear covers under-garments that would cause “Victoria Secrets” a seizure.

 Autumn….oh yes, I forgot the best part….Autumn means re-activating the idle wood stove in the barn kitchen,  curls of grey smoke hanging in the cold still sky. The sweet smell of contented cows ( really,..they have , at least one end of them!!) Horses happy to be warm and dry, wickering gently at the sound of your voice. Cats curled up on dry horse rugs. Loving hugs on a frosty morning.  The cosy warmth of  a crackling wood stove, steaming woollen gloves drying, the smell of freshly brewed coffee permeating the air and warmed Cosco chocolate muffins for the 10 o’clock break time. Autumn means spicy mulled wine served in coffee mugs….. mmmm, you know what….come to think about it, maybe Autumn isn’t all that bad. It’s got to be better than Winter, right ????

Time to go, the rain is falling, the spiders are weaving their wondrous webs, the pond is overflowing and it’s cold. Guess it’s time to start thinking about Christmas !!!!

Good night, take care, keep safe, M                    

Happy Thursday, still pitch black outside which incidentally causes Border Collie Bran to rise to fever pitch ! Dark outside causes reflections on the inside of the window…reflections of a black and white Border Collie who looks really fierce, bouncing growling and barking back at him. Clearly it’s Bran’s mission to scare the barking growling (potentially) invasive border collie away and frustratingly…the more he barks, the more he leaps about …the more aggressive he is, the more the dog in the glass does the same. Poor Bran. We eventually have to turn out the light so his reflection goes. Smart dog ?????

We are now milking Daisy May our big black Dexter. Momma cow had lots of preparations for her big day in the milking parlour, her udder had been prepped (wiggled jiggled tickled and squeezed)  to get her familiar to the milking process and she had happily got used to the grain bucket which unashamedly distracts her bovine brain from what is happening at her nether end……BUT our big black momma cow had not had the suction milk cups attached to the important “bits”. Well…..Momma cow did not appreciate a big vacuum cup sucking in her swollen asset, much less, four of the big vacuum cups sucking simultaneously and, unable to quietly advise us of her discomfort, Daisy May had a hissy bovine tizzy. Poor Greg, poised under the cow….at the dangerous end was a bit close and personal to a few well aimed and indiscriminate cow kicks. Call in the Calvary…….uh…..me??? Well, once upon a time when I was a little girl ( a VERY long time ago) on holiday in Ireland at my granny’s farm my very old and very wise Granny sitting on a three legged stool with her cow tied to an old tree,  told me to hold her cows tail to stop it kicking. The memory clearly survived eons and my instinct was to lift Daisy’s nasty yucky tail over her back and hold on tight. It appears to have been a very good memory to have filed away…..Daisy May has settled down to the milking routine quietly and yesterday we got about a gallon of frothy creamy fresh milk…and no visits to the urgent care centre !! Good old Granny.

Sadly, the warm, frothy, creamy milk doesn’t yet find its way to the ice cream maker…..rather to the barn kitchen and Mojo-Anne’s giant sized bottle with giant sized teats. Mojo is doing well, yesterday after having a major “frap”  (frantic random activity period)  in her little pen, Quatre attached the lead rope  and the little calf was gently led out to meet Misty the docile Jersey Cow….who may be her friend…or may not !!! The introduction wasn’t the civilised event we had envisaged…..Mojo tore around an extremely confused Misty who clearly wished she could be anywhere in the world rather than with the manic calf. I’m not sure who had more fun, the calf or Quatre ? We will try again tomorrow.

MY BOOK IS WITH THE PUBLISHERS and is supposedly a beautiful 40 page hard back with full colour pictures. The book is based on the true story of quest our Shire gelding and a Canada goose that became besotted by him.( see Forsaken Love page on website) It will be ready before the holiday and will hopefully be a lovely gift. Please tell your friends and their friends. I’m never going to be a J K Rowling ….but it will help us pay for chicken food. Smile !!

Timed out, keep safe and warm. M 

Our wait is over !!! Snug and warm in a stall padded with soft yellow straw (hopefully) lies little MoJo-Anne. Mojo is a little curly coated, 60 something Lbs, chestnut brown Dexter calf and she is the long awaited and overdue calf from Daisy May. We now have 3 generations of cow in our barn and are hopeful that Daisy May’s calf will grow up healthy and well on the pastures of Gentle Giant Meadows Ranch.

Mojo’s birth wasn’t uneventful and her first presentation drew gasps of horror…upside down ? breech ? Nooooooooo !!! Luckily for our bovine mom to be, the peanut gallery, watching anxiously from a hay bale auspiciously stacked above the cow pen spotted something appearing that shouldn’t be there. Multi functional Greg managed to turn the unborn calf who appeared more interested in kicking his way out than taking the usual passage and both he and Quatre assisted Daisy to expel the source of her “tummy ache from hell “. Daisy May was not a passive patient and a great deal of irritated tail swishing and ear shattering bellows accompanied each irksome contraction. Clearly, a good dose of Peptobismal or  tried and Old Wives Tales….time tested (????) a hot bath or imbibing warm castor oil remedies for encouraging overdue offspring to enter the world fortunately seemingly inappropriate under the circumstances. Unfortunately for Quatre, births are usually accompanied by more than a little gunk….liquid and other..but all pretty NASTY and poor Quatre, being directly in the line of fire experienced the whole expulsion of everything Daisy May could expel ! It didn’t smell too good either !!! Poor Quatre, if something is going to get dumped it will probably get dumped on our wonderful long suffering Quatre !!. Carla, who managed to make her old Ford truck cover the distance from Port Orchard to the ranch faster than an Aston Martin to make sure she witnessed the birthing process busied herself clicking photographs faster than her finger could move and her camera could process. Quatre and Corla rubbed and cood at the new calf whilst fervently assuring herself that the whole painful experience was one she could live without  and MJ's first bottle and iodine rub was were their happily accepted missions. We have a baby cow !!

Just to add a little interest to the birthing experience, yesterday the Pacific North West was directly in the path of a major rain storm….and, just as MJ had predicted…..we got VERY wet, all day. Everything that had an inch of shelter to hide under found it, the goats barely put their noses out, Tiger found a warm horse rug and barely a whisker got wet. Bran the intrepid border Collie chose to use the Quad rather than wet his paws and the sheep out in the pasture huddled tightly under the heavy sodden branches of an old cedar tree. Good news….the rain drain that occupied so much of your vacation time and was responsible for many of your aches and pains Malc, is working just as Greg’s brain  (!!! Yes, we all know about the plans in Greg’s brain…sadly we aren’t all psychic !!) knew it would. The Chinese guttering in which everyone got involved during the last dry days of the Summer…(as the threatening black storm clouds rolled in) are holding up surprisingly very well, much better than anticipated if you had been around during the installation ! The hole Carla dug and apparently true to form around here, filled in again but this time with a workable drain in the cow pen is working admirably and the pump in the house pond is keeping that overflow from flooding the pasture. Quatre has been exercising and improving her impressive set of biceps and abs by building the wood stack into a wooden equivalent of the Empire State building. Greg SAID he “wanted the pile stacked high”……and he has got it, stacked very high! Thanks again Quatre. It has been a very productive summer and although all our Winter preparations are not completed ( Greg’s “to do” list never seems to go down !!) we feel as confident that Winter can “bring it on “ !!! We are ready. ! Did I just say that ?????

Back to Mojo-Anne, appropriately at the moment with our weather activity abbreviated to MJ ( no offence to MJ the Fox 13 weather guru). MJ ( the hairy brown one) is thriving. She caused a little flutter when she appeared to have a feeding issue and she seemed to have lost the instinct to suck but the suck machine has been restored and that girl has a suck that would give a 1hp vacuum pump a run for its money. Mojo recognises us as “mommy” and EVERYTHING that doesn’t move and some that do ( Bran the border collie) can (and does) get tested for suckability. Each new born here at the ranch breathes new life and starts a new exciting chapter, we are blessed with our life, our families and our friends and each new day, month and year brings us new and more wonderful memories. Thanks to everyone who helps ( or helped) to make Gentle giant Meadows Ranch the “Heaven” that it is for us and the peaceful haven it is for the animals in our care.

Take care, keep safe and dry, M      

Its a Heifer!! yeah. That means the calf will live a long life here on the ranch and most likely won't be sold on. A hefty 60lbs. Well I am sure there will be more photos on tomorrow's diary. Maureen can hardly contain herself. MoJo-Anne is a cutey.!! 

Well, it’s feast or famine here….80 something days ( really technical I know !) with NO rain and today we are nearly paddling. It has been so dry that the pastures are parched and burnt. The truck has 80 days of dust on it, ( so what’s new ?) the creek was barely a trickle over the recent months and when the horses returned hot and sweaty from the fields a new coat of grey dust covered from the tips of soft noses to the end of a swishing tail.  Allergies have run rampant through man (woman) and beast, with resultant sneezes snuffles and runny eyes. Majestic Cedar  trees and shrubs have wilted and died and the brilliant red white and blue on my Union Jack flag have faded. That was yesterday…..today the rain has come down in torrents, my faded flag and Old Glory hung limp and lifeless from the flagpole. In the pastures,  golden palomino Charm and Starbuck ( black Appaloosa without spots) managed to look even more miserable than they had with the heat and flies. The “old guys” T Bone and Cooper did what they do best…..eat. Sometimes, old timer T Bone at 30 years young somehow manages to look like he is physically on a permanent 45 degree angle in danger of collapsing in a heap but mentally that old man is still a teenager. Occasionally, old T Bone will gather his old swollen joints, shake his noble head, swish his thinning black tail and canter round the pasture. Occasionally old T Bone will fall asleep, his aged body rocking on unstable legs, head hanging and bottom lip drooping. In their stalls, the aged bay horses have become familiar with the ranch routine. Early mornings as the barn door opens, T Bone and Cooper are ready and anxious for their breakfast grain, heads toss over the stall doors, low welcoming whickers come from crinkled muzzles. Cooper is the ranch busy-body, while T Bone eats his grain and attempts to eat the bucket too, comparative youngster Cooper at 20 years old busies himself with who is going where, with whom and when. More often than not, his grain remains disturbed but uneaten in his rubber bucket as he ricochets from bucket to stall door as the sleeping ranch wakes and people, horses, livestock and dog come and go. This morning, as the gate to the goat pen opened, three sets of eyes watched the rain dripping from the dilapidated rusty gutters, considered the rapidly growing puddle of muddy water outside their stall and unanimously appeared to say “you want us to do what ???”. Macho the buck, Alicia and Acorn, his harem are no lovers of  water, rain or wind and today was a day to hunker down and hang out close to home.

In the cow barn Daisy May is still keeping us waiting. As she happily munches on whatever tasty morsel she finds in her feeder, we anxiously watch and wait the arrival of her calf. All the signs point to the immanent arrival of a Daisy May “mini me” but, as of 8pm tonight as her ample bovine butt was checked for the millionth time, little Mojo/Mojoanne was still tucked up snugly and refusing to be born. Who knows….tomorrow may be the day !!!

Well, as the rain continues to fall, Bran the Border Collie hesitates to leave the warm dry house to complete his “business” for the day and the weather forecaster predicts more of the same …but worse for tomorrow. We are finaly  finished for the day. Dishes are cleared, eggs are washed and the cuckoo clock advises us that it is bedtime….Good night, God Bless and more of the same tomorrow. Take care, keep safe and dry, M