It’s wet cold and windy and disgusting and muddy and the forecast suggests it will continue like this through the foreseeable future and likely until well after I have run screaming into the distance.
The barn is still full of winter’s deep litter because nobody here is strong enough to muck it out, except my husband who refuses to let me pay someone to do it, but who also refuses to do it himself. “As soon as I finish this engine rebuild; as soon as I finish this transmission; as soon as everybody picks up their cars and I can take a couple days off...” As soon as Hell freezes over, he means, because Homero hasn’t taken a day off in months. Meanwhile, all I can do is keep throwing down fresh straw and making the whole problem deeper and more difficult to deal with.
The Tom turkey is a vile monster who has injured two of the hens so badly that they needed to be isolated in the mama barn to recover. One of them appears to have a broken leg or something - she can’t stand up at all and so I’m afraid she has to be put out of her misery and into our freezer. The Tom, meanwhile, is angry about his missing hens and attempts to attack us whenever we step into the barnyard. He’s at least twenty-five pounds, better than knee high, and I’m not ashamed to admit I’m scared of him when he is hurtling towards me at top turkey speed, intent on battle.
He’s going into the freezer too, as soon as Homero has time to do it, because I’m not going to try it myself.
All the baby goats are sold. But it looks like we might lose another one. A couple who bought two bucklings took them to the vet to be disbudded Friday. I had told them that I don’t disbud, and tried to lay out the pros and cons fairly, but leaning towards leaving them alone. They decided to go ahead. And now one of the babies is in a bad way. His little brains are fried. He just stands in a corner and cries, can’t nurse or anything.
I went to the vet for antibiotics, anti-inflammatory medicine, and steroids. This morning he’s unchanged, and I don’t think he’s managed to nurse. I can’t get a bottle into him either. He probably needs some tube feeding, but I’ve never done that before and am scared to try. Only good news on that front is that the new owners are very understanding. They trust that I’m doing my best and say they won’t blame me if I accidentally kill him while trying to tube feed him.
Christmas, his mother, is once again being a shitty mom. She’s never really been a good mom - she kids easily and throws beautiful babies but she won’t let them nurse. Needs to be held. I’m sick of wrestling with her. Thinking I might try to sell her as an in-milk doe to somebody who just wants milk but not babies.
Overall I’m feeling extremely dispirited and unhappy. I’m thinking it would be extremely nice to live in a little condo in the city, just a cute little one bedroom in a smaller building near some good restaurants and nightlife.
A building that doesn’t allow pets.
My wife most hates this time of year, when spring should really be there, but is holding out like some kind of petty sadist. Sorry to hear about the muck and the uncooperative animalitos. But as you well know, half of the pagan canon is about reassuring ourselves that the wheel turns and muck turns to flowers turns to raspberries, turns to pies and jam. So hang in there. (And sorry for not responding to your email! It came at a busy time and got set aside.)
ReplyDeleteTrue indeed. Muck turns to flowers turns to raspberries turns to pies ... which turn to muck again ;) blessed be the wheel.
ReplyDeleteSo sorry about your troubles. Waiting for mud season to end is always painful. But going through rough times is the only way to really appreciate the good ones. Constancy is boring. And I am guessing you would hate the condo.
ReplyDeleteHope you have a county and department of ecology approved farm plan.
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry that this delight for others has turned into such a hassle for you! I have long enjoyed your cheese, and I have helped raise a baby on your goat's milk. Pure, natural milk is hard to find in my area. Your has always been perfect.
ReplyDeleteHowever, I used to raise goats too. I had good moms and nice babies. But I eventually had a great goat giveaway, and stopped doing anything with animals other than a dog and two cats. Hobbies serve many wonderful purposes in our lives. But they also can be frustrating, take too much time and too much money. When that happens, do not feel guilty about stopping one hobby and taking up another. Want to join a book club? take up crocheting? Lead a girl scout troop? Learn Chinese? Now you will have time.
Katherine, alias Mom to the multitudes
Well, now you will have time for a different hobby! Hobbies are wonderful for us. They give is opportunities for creativity and new learning and making new friends. But, in my experience, I eventually find them either too time consuming, too hard or too costly. The difficulties outweigh the fun, and other benefits. So I find a new hobby!
ReplyDeleteWant to join a book club; get involved with the League of Women Voters? Learn Chinese? There are so many interesting things to do in the world, you will never run out of them, I assure you. And, I, anyway, can never take more naps than I would like!
So enjoy your new hobbies, and feel no guilt. Have a great goat giveaway, or allow the ones you have to enjoy an honorable retirement without breeding them or milking
them, and when you read a great book at the book club and your family has no interest in discussing it, go outdoors and tell the interesting parts to the goats.,