After letting them stare longingly at the lush green grass growing on the other side of the pen, we finally let the grazers out onto the pasture.
They are happy.
And, with sun sparkling on the river and green leaves on high, so are the humans.
We’ve been thinking for awhile that our sweet matriarch Frieda (the second lawnmower from the bottom) might be incubating a tiny goat or two. She has been looking wide, laying down a lot, and by golly–is that a developing udder?
Clearly it’s no match for last year’s udder bounty, but it seems to be growing a bit. It would be hilarious if she is actually knocked up, given that she is the biggest of the three ladies and the herdsire (the black runt laying down) is so small, but stories like this abound in the goat world, so its a definite possibility. Maybe we will get delicious goat milk this year after all….
Posted in around the farm, goats, with child | 1 Comment »
Sideways light, a soft sandy road, dramatic clouds, and trees ready to burst. On the first Saturday in May, these are the things that matter.
Posted in around the farm, spring, standing still | 1 Comment »
It always seems to arrive here so late, but it does return eventually. At first it is just a tinge of colour in the dead grass, but in just a few weeks, you can make out the leaves and stems of new growth. Before long there are actual sightings of plant life, the cheerful ta-da! of a wild strawberry plant opening and the teasing remembrances of tartness on your tongue.
Then comes the explosions of the pussywillows. They go off one tree at a time, their velvety sheen erupting for the protrusion of science fiction-y rubber flower things.
We–or at least, those of us who aren’t incubating a human–have started on the garden, planting potatoes in the dirt…
And tomatoes in wee makeshift greenhouses. Next to be planted will be lettuce and peas and the other things that don’t mind a bit of a cold snap here and there, because no matter how poetically you frame this season, it is still northern Alberta.
Hello, slowly advancing green and the promise of summer. We’ve been waiting for you.
Posted in around the farm, garden, spring | 1 Comment »
Pussy willows:
Chickens helping us work fresh nutrients into the garden:
Fencing for goats (something tells me this will be an infinite task):
Sorting the wool harvest! I think this is Clementine:
And, because this IS Alberta… the occasional snowstorm.
Posted in around the farm, chickens, fibre fun, garden, goats, spring | Leave a Comment »
This darn thing was a year in the works. I started it off way too small and would not accept the truth for 6 inches. When I finally ripped out my progress, it took me a long time to cultivate the motivation to try again. But the eyes of this bearded man would light up whenever I spoke about the brown sweater I wanted to make for him, and since the heart of a knitter cannot help but be charmed by the prospect of an appreciative recipient, I cast on again in November.
The beast, she is finished. And the bearded one is content. And we mustn’t dwell on the things that aren’t perfect (the fact that the ribbing at the bottom is a bit loose, for example), because we have reached our goal. And, miracle of miracles, this knitter can now move on to something that isn’t miles and miles of brown stockinette!
Posted in fibre fun, mark | 2 Comments »
The spirit was willing, but the flesh was 6 months pregnant. So instead of hunkering down and risking a hoof to the growing gut, a shearer was hired.
Look, someone is shearing my sheep and it’s not me!
Above is Eleanor being sheared. Below is her glorious fleece. She is my favourite of the five.
She is getting up there in age and I was hoping for her to be knocked up this year (a baby in every womb!) and asked the shearer if any of my ewes looked as if they might be ready to lamb. He looked at their empty flappy udders and said they seemed to be a ways off. Then our dear friend Guiness was shorn, and we discovered something surprising…
Dude’s got no balls.
After the utter hilarity wore off, I decided it was plenty okay with me–I can hardly get up from a chair right now, let alone lay down in the straw to shimmy towards a birthing sheep in distress so I can put my arm into her vagina. Next year we’ll worry about getting a ram, and next year we’ll all think to look for the crucial scrotal bits before loading him into the back of the truck. Next year, when the slimy fetus is outside of my womb, I’ll worry about the wombs of others. We’ll be awash in ruminant babies! Until then, my funny looking tribe maintains its status quo, and that is just dandy.
Posted in around the farm, fibre fun, meat growing, sheep, spinning, with child | 3 Comments »
She’s in there somewhere, gorging on hay, characteristically unimpressed at the recent huge dump of snow.
The goats are easier to find, since they’re delicate flowers and avoid precipitation of any kind lest it soil their dainty hooves.
But this human doesn’t mind the powdery goodness that accumulated so quickly overnight: it makes for lovely snowshoeing adventures, even if the fetal stowaway forces many breathless rest stops.
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I was 20 minutes early
for the business workshop, and so was the woman who shared my access card to get into the auditorium.We had a pleasant enough conversation; both of us worked in the same field for companies in similar industries, we were about the same age and temperament… for an awkward shoot-the-breeze-with-a-stranger-you’ll-never-talk-to-again arrangement, it was as pretty much as good as it gets.
I mentioned ‘the friend who drove me down to the city’ and she asked me where we were staying. “At a bed and breakfast,” I replied. “While I’m here, he’s probably trying to connect with old friends or maybe just sleeping in the massive king size bed.”
An almost imperceptible “huh?” shadowed her face when I said ‘he’. There was no judgment, only confusion: I of the pregnant belly am clearly gallivanting around with a ‘he’ other than the one who helped create my fetus accessory?
Waddling (while trying very hard not to waddle) around with an increasingly large belly, it’s becoming hard to gloss over the admittedly strange details of my life. Once one bit escapes (like the fact that my male friend and I are sharing a romantic bed and breakfast suite), the rest must come tumbling out, if only to put the other person at ease. If there’s one thing that distresses most people, it’s not getting enough of the story to realize that everything’s okay and they don’t have to put me on some sort of cosmic prayer list. So I put her out of her misery.
I smiled at my new temporary friend. I took a deep breath and said something like, “Okay. He’s actually my ex-husband, which is fine because he’s gay and now he’s my best friend. We live together on a farm with the father of my fetus (who I am actually ‘with’) and it all works surprisingly well. Plus, it would probably make for some good sitcom material, which is awesome.”
I don’t really remember her reaction. I know we chatted about it a bit–how it’s unusual, yes; how we’re all pretty happy with the arrangement, yes; how it was really hard at first but now it’s fine. In the end, she had categorized the situation cleanly into her mind and we were able to move on to other topics. I do remember feeling a bit embarrassed at sharing a two-sentence version of my life story to a total stranger, but it really isn’t the sort of story you can half-tell. When you live on a farm with your spouse and your ex-spouse-yet-still-life-partner and both of them are excited about the baby growing inside you and one of them is planning on teaching the little one about stars and planets and the other one is excited about opening the world of math to a little brain and your heart is about to burst because three years ago things were so messy that you never would have thought anything like this was possible, sometimes full disclosure just feels like the right thing to do.
Posted in mark, nathan, spawn, the story of gay | 3 Comments »
Helpful advice from the fetus father
Jen, after drinking a giant glass of blended strawberries in milk and seeing Mark look wistfully at the empty blender: I can’t believe I didn’t offer you any! I’m so fat and selfish. Wait. I’m having a girl. I can’t talk like this.
Mark, playing sudoku at the computer: *murmurs of agreement*
Jen, spreading her arms magestically: Behold! I am a blossoming flower of womanly glory!
Mark, looking up and shaking his head: You’re going from one extreme to the other. Just be confident, don’t use sarcastic poetic language.
Posted in helpful advice, mark, spawn | Leave a Comment »
Sink yer toes in.
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