Gavin

This is Gavin. He is handsome and dignified, except there is nothing dignified about the way he desperately escapes when a camera is pointed at him. I cannot use the same logic that I use on my photo students, "If you want to be a photographer you are going to have to let people photograph you. It's called Karma dumb asses." Turns out Gavin is not an aspiring photographer. 

Farm stuff

First a few necessary agenda items to get out of the way:

Started irrigating May 3rd.

Replaced two sprinklers, repaired a gate valve (mostly), and replaced a 5 inch nipple - all in the North pasture, second row from the East-most row.  

First Northern oriole of the year today, May 7th.

Six chicks hatched April 21. Cochin/phoenix x. The cochin rooster (the paterfamilias) died a couple weeks before they hatched so his legacy continues. 

In other news: I've got a wallet that I greatly admire. It is a Pendelton brand wallet that looks like it is wrapped in an "Indian" blanket. It was bought when I was looking for a thinner wallet that would better fit the pockets of my skinny jeans.

I inadvertently stumbled upon this wallet, so, as a lifelong fan of Pendelton products, I had to buy it. Even though it in no way fit the criteria of fitting my skinny jeans. It is thick even when empty. And it is always empty, otherwise it will not fit in my pocket. My copious cards and considerable cash are stuffed into my other pockets while my empty wallet amply fills my right front pocket. 

Alternative Transportation

This is not mine. I brashly entered a shop - Boise Vintage Cycle - and asked to borrow a motorcycle. This is the one I left with. I had borrowed it for a photo shoot for Tenspeed Hero. It was intended to be a meer prop. But I wanted to ride it. I think I tried everything, except the right thing, to get it started. The only motorcycles I had ever started before had a key and a start button. This had neither.   My contact at the shop called yesterday and told me that if I ever have another project that requires a motorcycle to call them. They like that sort of thing.
For the record, I did not really enter the shop brashly. Timidly would probably be a more accurate description of the way I entered.

Neighbor

While visiting my family, I spotted our neighbor putting away his garbage cans. I use the word "spotted" because he is a birder. On a whim, I decided to cross the street and say hello. I was expecting a light-hearted chat about birds, like Chats for instance. But the neighbor played the tough guy card. He offered an unsolicited recommendation of binoculars. He suggested 8, 9 or 10 power. Then he said that he prefers 12 power but most people cannot handle them. “Unless you’re used to holding things steady in your hand like I am.” Then the neighbor made his hand into a gun and held it steady, rock steady. He looked at his hand then looked at me with a look that said," When I say I handle things steady, I am talking about guns buddy."

Suddenly he pointed at what I know as a Scrub jay. He asked, "What's that bird?" "Scrub jay," said I. "You sure?" Then he talked about how the American Birders Association (or some such authority) in their infinite wisdom decided they should be split...etc, etc," the story was decorated with cuss words. He is the foul-mouthed, tough Marine of birding. Then he said, "It's a Scrub jay."

Somehow he transitioned to his property in Montana. He told me that "Indian braves" routinely steal his horses. They have to either steal horses or go to war to become men, so understandably, these kids choose horse theft. 

He went on to say that there is a Marine sniper living on his property so he doesn't worry about it while he is gone. Even when he is there, visitors "will not appreciate the welcome they get," because he  has a tendency to shoot people. Then he amended the statement to "at people," because his neighbor is a deputy sheriff and he frowns upon the shooting of people. 

So forget what you thought you knew about birders. They are tough, braggarts, maybe liars, and they might shoot you. You could probably substitute the word "neighbors" for "birders."

Animals lower your heart rate - probably

Watching animals do normal activities like sleeping is relaxing - I might even say revitalizing or even therapeutic. I just saw Jasmine, our black and white "barn cat," sleeping in a sun-drenched flower bed. It was as beautiful as anything. Diego, a long-haired Chihuahua has a great talent for getting comfortable on couches, chairs and luggage. The luggage sitting is a clear message to us not to leave him behind. Dogs are smart.

I don't think enough has been said about the love and devotion of a dog. Someone quote worthy once said that the dog human relationship is "The best deal man has ever made." Agreed. Better than the Louisiana Purchase. Yet somehow many people still do not know it. If I had a puppy for every time I heard someone describe their first dog as amazing, smart, exceptional and variations there of, I'd have a lot of puppies. Some of them would be dogs by now. You and I know that those adjectives fit most dogs.

What can I say that hasn't already been said about alpacas?

Our goats are of course as smart and heroic as you might expect. The stories you've heard about goats are true - but probably toned down for believability sake.

Besides their famous altruism, Chickens have many admirable traits. Here is an incomplete list:
Beauty
Ingenuity
Dexterity
Integrity
Grace (needless to say)
Steadfastness
Inventiveness
Verboseness
Featheriness

I could go on.

Horses are the only animals that it is ok to sit on at our farm.

Vision aka Avenger and Willow

Living on the Land

At this moment Jenny and I are discussing who should go to our Living on the Land Class. It meets once a week but it seems to sneak up on us. It seemed like a great idea and we looked forward to it - which only confirms my theory that it is the journey, not the destination. Or, put another way, the chase is better than the catch. The class is not bad. The teacher is great. The subjects are relavent to our life on the farm: soil, water, weeds, pest control. But it comes at the end of the day every Monday, even today, President's Day. It also gets in the way of feeding time. We have to either feed too early or too late. Also, there is one fellow who acts like the class is really simply a meeting that convenes once a week to discuss his business plans #yeararoundfruitstand.

Farm and Weather

I was reading a post from Big Picture Farm and it reminded me that I have a farm and a blog. The blog is right here in front of my face, and yours. Like Vermont, Idaho too has been cold, unreasonably cold, this winter. Many zero degree mornings and some five below mornings. The past few days have warmed up a bit. It is amazing how good 20 degrees feels after a few days in the zero to ten range. Some of the roosters have frost-bitten combs. Reuben's is the worst. It has improved with the weather but it is still white on the tips.
The warmer afternoons - and the occasional freezing rain - have made for treacherous walking in the morning. That feeling when I start to slip makes me inexplicably angry, yet I usually laugh at the same time. We have to walk like muppets when the world is coated with a slick layer of ice.

Time to feed. 18 degrees out.

Winter

It has been a cold winter so far. 0 degrees at the moment. Each morning Jenny and I break ice in the stock tanks so the horses and alpacas have water. Then Jenny does it again a couple of hours later.
The weather app on my really super smart phone says it will be 41 next Wednesday. It is nice to have something to look forward to.

At the moment, I am sitting in the kitchen with Danny on my feet. He is a sweet brindle dog currently wearing a blue flees coat. In a few minutes it will be time to feed. It is still dark out and still 0 degrees. It is hard to leave the warmth of the kitchen and Danny in exchange for the bitter cold of the barnyard. Even the chickens have been staying in their coops all day. That sounds nice. Maybe Jenny and I will stay in the coop all day. We wont though. The animals need water.

Year one

We have lived here on the farm for a year now. Jenny and all the animals officially weren't moved in until Mayish. At that time we were the proud caretakers of 33 beautiful and gifted chickens. Maybe 34.  Now there are 23 lovely, gifted, talented, and precocious chickens. Some might be tempted to say that they are in a better place (checkens 24 through 33) but one who would say that has clearly never been here. It is pretty nice here. Those chickens are now in various holes in the ground. Except for Reuben Jr who moved to California after multiple attempts on Reuben Sr's life. No word from him as of yet.

Climate change made for a hot summer - the hottest on record. There were forest fires the entire summer making for dirty air. I for one held my breath from June to September.

Reuben preening 

Milton

Every once in a while there comes a cat of such extraordinary quality that it would be unfair not to tell the world about her. Milton was such a cat. She had it all - cuteness, sweetness, intelligence. She died today. She was cute and sweet to the end. Her purr was one of a kind and included soft chirps. Holding her was like holding the physical embodiment of love in your arms. Really. She loved everyone. She loved cats, dogs and people.  She could walk between two quarreling cats and peace would be restored.

She was kind of a foodie, preferring pretty much any food she could get. She was orange like Morris but not finicky like Morris.

Here are some pictures from her last couple of days, spreading love until the end. She will be greatly missed.

Excited Alpaca

Direct your attention to the baby alpaca in the background. That's Siggy mid buck.

Brookside Farm

The farm is getting bigger, population-wise. It is now a business. We are in the fiber biz. We even have a name: Brookside Farm. We thought of other cleverer names like Pelican West (after the great Haircut 100 lp) Stack Rock Ranch (after the rock of the same name that we can see from our window), High Desert Farm, Pheasant Ridge or Quail Ridge because there are a lot of both. Another option was Push Me Pull You Farm. But we are sticking with Brookside because that is the name of the road we live on. We figure it wont someday be embarrassing like Pelican West might or like my FRANKIE SAYS RELAX tattoo. 

This is one of our fiber animals. We will also harvest the antlers when they are big enough. No antlers.
Below is the three month old daughter of the above fiber animal.

Cowboys

Occasionally, cowboys show up near the farm. At first there were two cowboys on our road. They were moseying up the road looking for a couple three cows. They don't walk, they mosey. Satisfied, they moseyed back to the truck and pulled through the gate to the same side of the fence as the cows. That's when we noticed another truck. Both trucks pulled long livestock trailers. One contained three horses and the other was empty. The cowboys cleverly set up the two trailers close to the fence to create a chute to help get the cows into the empty trailer. 

Expertly, the cowboys rounded up the cows and into the trailer they went. One cow did try to squeeze her 500 lb frame through an 8 inch gap in the bars of the fence but she quickly changed her mind and went into the trailer with no further protest. 

These were real cowboys. They looked to be in their 60s. They appeared to be in pain - sore hips, bowed legs. They're still looking for and old, black cow.

Some Alpaca Terms

Please excuse the formatting as some of this information was cut and pasted from here.
Hoof - Hard, horny foot.
Fleece - The hair
Tail - Can be found in equivalent spot as the tail in other animals such as dogs and llamas.
Kush - The cute way camelids lie down. 
Ear - Furry moveable  apendage, usually two of them,  on the head used for hearing and sometimes listening. 
Spit - a verb and a noun.
Blanket - The highest quality fleece which begins at the shoulder, runs the full length of the back and down each side until it meets the more medullated fiber on the belly. Excludes neck, leg, chest, belly, and britch. The term originated from the image of a horse's saddle blanket.
Neck - The lower quality fleece but probably softer than any fleece you produce.
Leg - See above
Belly - See leg and neck
Bertch - Unknown
CH'UMPI: Quechua word for the color sorrel.
CRIA: A camelid less than one year old.
CRIMP: The regular undulation along the length of an individual fiber or lock of fiber. A higher number of crimps per inch can indicate a finer fiber.
BERSERK MALE: A male who was afforded too much affection by humans as a cria and shows no fear of them as an adult.
FINENESS: A measure, in microns, of the diameter of individual fibers. Most often expressed as an average for a representative sample of fiber.
FLEECE WEIGHT: The weight of an entire fleece measured at the same time each season.
EPISTASIS: An interaction among genes at different loci such that the expression of genes at one locus depends on the alleles present at one or more other loci.
GUARD HAIR: Also kemp. Coarse medulated fiber. A second coat of fiber found in llamas, vicuna, guanacos, and, to a lesser degree, alpacas.
MEDULLATION: The degree to which a fleece contains medullated hair.
PACO VICUNA: A crossbred or hybrid vicuna and alpaca.
QIEILU: Quechua word for the color yellow.
QUECHUA: A group of Indian peoples of Central Peru. Original founders of the Incan civilization. Today, the Quechuan people are the primary shepherds of alpaca in the Altiplano.
YARA: Quechua word for the color black.

WOOLEN: Yarn made from fibers that are one to three inches in length and that have been carded only. Fabrics of woolen yarn are characterized as being fuzzy, thick, and bulky.

WORSTED: Yarn spun from fibers three inches in length or longer that have been carded, combed, and drawn. Combing machines straighten alpaca slivers, making the individual fibers lie parallel.

YURAQ: Quechua word for the color white.

Snow and Birds of Prey

First snow of the season yesterday. I missed it while buying energy bars and beers at the Winco. Only a couple miles away, but it was sunny and beautiful whilst at the farm a squall hit complete with high winds and snow. It was the first snow for the four horses (except maybe Willow who was born in the Netherlands). Definitely the first snow for Siggy the two month old Alpaca. 

In other news, last week was one of my birthdays and Jenny's parents were here. We went to the World Center for Birds of Prey and watched this falconry show:

Aplomado Falcon

Unrelated to the subject, Black Widow

Eurasian Eagle owl

Eurasian Eagle owl

Swainson's Hawk

Privacy

There were two stalls in the bathroom. Feet were visible under the first stall. The other was a larger handicapped stall. No feet were visible. I opened the door and started to walk in but was stopped in my tracks when I saw that this stall was occupied. A gentleman of about 55 was sitting on the toilet, pants up and fastened - the way they might be if he where sitting on anything else in the world. He was reading a book and drinking coffee. He did not so much as glance at me as I stood there. Instead he kept reading and sipping his coffee. I quietly backed up, shut the door and high-tailed it to another bathroom where everything went as planned.

This is Lola

Farm Update: Raccoon

A raccoon entered the garage through the cat door to harass Champion, a small black cochin rooster. The raccoon was able to reach it's paws into the cage and pull Champion's feathers out and he tore the poor bird's comb half off. The good news is Jeremy seems to be ok otherwise. His comb was stapled back on by a professional. The bad news is, one of our free rangers, a barred rock was killed. That was two nights ago. Last night all the free rangers (the Davis's as they are known) roosted in their coop. Their coop used to be casa non grada because of a former raccoon attack. That was what motivated them to start sleeping in trees in the first place. The new attack reversed that motivation. Hopefully they will sleep in the coop from now on.
Other good news: I saw Lilly the cat formerly known as Kinten. She had been gone since the dogs moved in. She was walking down the road with Mr. Boehm and his dog. Boehm said she adopted him.

I set a couple of traps to try and catch the raccoon to no success. We tried to get the three "barn" cats to sleep in the grage so we would catch them in the traps. Only two complied with our request.

Champion by Jenny Hunter

I am not a hunter but visions of a raccoon hat keep popping into my mind.

Bird

Heermann's Gull and sand