Tags: farm



Whoever doesn't believe global warming (like the President and his yobbo cronies) hasn't been out in my pasture at 11:00 am. The sun just drills me into the ground--and it's only the first part of June. I have cabin fever from hiding in the air-conditioned house, and I am totally sick of house cleaning, reading, and daytime SciFi channel.

We feed the livestock later and later each day, trying to avoid passing out over the grain bin, and the chickens are not happy about it. They and the horses and goats like a regular schedule, so at 6:00 pm they are ready for dinner. The sun finally heads for the horizon around 7:00, so we are greeted with all sorts of barnyard noises when we finally appear. I'd assume they were giving me love calls if I didn't know better. The turkey looks so pitiful, panting next to the water bucket.

Himself (a lifelong Southerner) makes noises about "we should move up North where it's cooler." Unfortunately, the summers are getting just as hot in my hometown of Chicago (that global warming again), and the winters are brutal. I gave up shoveling and driving in snow when I got to Texas. He also had the idea of moving to the coast a few years ago--pre-Katrina. Hmmph.

Whoever invented air-conditioning for the masses should be canonized.

"Please, sir, may I have some more?"

Well, now I'm on a live journal to record portions of my life, and my life has suddenly turned dull, dull, dull! The most exciting thing to happen this week is a visit from the plumber. One really learns to appreciate the trappings of urban civilization when, out here in relatively the middle of Nowhere, tree roots invade the septic tank piping. The results are both odorous and onerous--when the flusher doesn't flush, one must look for creative solutions. The Husband has only a somewhat easier task, and Himself is always willing to go out and mark his territory. I will not go into detail about what we had to do with ...uh..."solids"... Suffice it to say that when I named this chronicle Shoveling Horse Poop from the Ivory Tower, I had no plans to branch out into other species. Everything came out all right in the end, though (sorry, I just couldn't resist). The plumber came out, dug a lot, ran his magic machine, and we're flush with success (dang, there I go again).

About Animal Babies
Our little goatlings are bouncing all over the pasture these days, and their mothers are kept busy sorting out who belongs to whom. We have one pregnant doe left, and she looks likely to explode before delivering. She has that pained "I'm tired of being pregnant and having god-only-knows-how-many little feet beating on my insides" look on her face, and she lumbers through the grass rather than walks. Any human mothers reading this will, of course, identify the feeling immediately. Even 24 years after my last child was born, I feel sympathetic "I'm stuffed and I want this to end NOW" pains for the poor goat. Twins--maybe triplets? Ooooooooh.

I have two Quarter Horse mares out in the pasture, and I find myself toying with the idea of breeding them. Sara (9 yrs. old) had a foal in 2001, and her former owner says she was a good mother. Jezebel, who just turned 2, came to us as a weanling foal. She was little and sweet--and now she is nearly full grown. With as many unwanted foals out there (the result of pregnant mare urine begin made into hormones for women--Pre mar in, get it?) I'd be foolish to spend the $$$ on my own mares. But newborn horses are just so darned cute! Fortunately, breeding season is just about over, thank goodness. Temptation will be removed from my path, and the girls will settle down for the summer and fall. Consider the effects of PMS on a 1250-pound moody mare. One or two days a month from January to June--and they don't get chocolate to get them through!

Finally, some Thoughts on Modern American Education
I have gotten four calls to substitute on the last two days of school (summer vacation starts Friday in Georgetown). Okay, picture this: no textbooks (turned in last week); no work (grades went in last week, too); no lessons 'cause it's the last two days; nothing to do except watch G-rated videos alllll day. Do They Think I'm Crazy?? The last two days of the school year were bad enough when I was a regular teacher! (Some of my students will fondly remember taking spelling tests on the last day....)

So my summer vacation has already begun (with plumbing, what fun).

Things can only get better from now on.