Pleasant Valley's Shepardess

Where were you on 9/11 ?

2010-09-10T22:41:00.002-03:00

This morning, on my drive to work, my favorite radio station personality - Trevor Doyle was asking us, "where were you the morning of 9/11"? His co-host stated that everybody would remember where they were that morning and I had a flashback to that day. I know where I was. The attacks of 9/11 changed so many lives, changed the way we travel, the way our borders function, the way we see people of different nationalities, the way we see life and how we are living ours.
The morning of 9/11, I was supervising the activities of a young offender. He was a grade 7 student, expelled from school for his violent behavior, and his lack of respect for authority. This child was trouble, a time bomb waiting to go off, he was heading for a future life of crime, or time in jail. That morning he locked me out of the house, attempted to intimidate me verbally, and employed every method he could think of to scare me, and make me quit like everyone else before me did.
A bit later, I was inside watching television with him, and he approached me from behind the couch I was sitting on. I could not take my eyes off the television, I could not believe what I was seeing.... a plane crashed into the world trade center, people were running, terrified, and my heart was just breaking for everyone who was trapped in those buildings. I heard the boy's voice behind me, he was laughing, he was entertained by what was on the television. I turned to look at him and told him to come sit with me, I looked into his unfeeling eyes and said, "that is real... not a show, those planes really hit those buildings, and people are really dying..." He laughed and said it was great.

As I sat there watching, nearly forgetting he was there in the house with me, I let my guard down. Then I saw it, the baseball bat swinging toward my head and stopping within two inches of my right temple. I did not flinch, partly because the scene on the television had my attention, but also because I was desensitized to violent behaviours in my childhood. He swung the bat again, and stopped it just above my ear, and I held my breath, and turned to look him in the eye....... he was smiling a sinister smile, his eyes left mine and looked at the television briefly and I pulled the bat from his hands. His expression changed and he said to me in his cocky teen voice, "how come that didn't scare you, it made the other girls scream and they quit, how come you didn't get scared?" I took a big breath in, exhaled to regain my composure and said to him, "nothing you can do will even come close to what my father did to me as a little girl, you can not scare me." He sat down on the couch and asked in a little boy's voice "what did he do to you"? I poured my heart out, telling him about the violence I grew up with, and how evil my father was. He softened, and whispered quietly, "my father did some really bad things to me too". We spent an hour talking, and when we were finished, he watched the newscast with me and sat quietly, obviously deep in thought.

Later that week he asked me to take him to talk to his school principal. After the meeting with the principal, he told me, he was going to try to go back to school. He had agreed to the stipulations the principal had laid out for him to follow in order to return to school. Nine months later, he won the turn around award at his school, had good grades, and was on the path to a promising future.

When asked what did it for him, what made him decide to put the effort in to change his life, he said it was the day he and I watched the events of 9/11, and the conversation we had together. Apparently something my grade four teacher, Mrs. Kusiak, had said to me, I had repeated to him, and hit home with him... he now knew that because you grew up in a violent home, does not mean you need to perpetuate that behaviour, that good can come out of bad, and we can all chose a path that is good. And despite the evil that is in the world, good can prevail. Good always wins. We can all be good and make a positive change in the world. Thank you Mrs. Kusiak

That leads me to think, did any good come out of 9/11? I guess that depends on your perspective, but in tiny little New Brunswick, in Canada, a young boys future may have been altered for the good because of the evil attacks on the world trade centers, otherwise I may not have been in the vulnerable position I was in when he swung that bat, and we may never have had that conversation. I believe that if one looks hard enough, you may find more stories of good coming out of the events of that day, at least I like to think so.

So, where were you on 9/11? How did it change your life? Or a life of someone you know?

Where is he now?

2010-08-06T23:41:00.006-03:00

Time to update you all on Bojangles. I know some of you have wondered how he is doing. Well, the thin and lackluster gelding that stumbled off a trailer into my life, has grown into a pudgy, spoiled pony with lots of piss and vinegar! He has brought me laughter and he has pushed me to frustration, a boring pony he is not. I am so happy to say, that either way, he is a happy pony, a tolerant pony, a fat pony who would rather lay in the sun with a sweet goat on his back, than trudging through the woods with a child in saddle. O, Mr. Bojangles.... what am I going to do with you now?

Bojangles 3 weeks later ....

2010-04-17T21:39:00.004-03:00

April 17th 2010

March 23rd 2010

Well, it has been three weeks since Bojangles has arrived. He has had a few changes in his condition. We thought he was seven years old, but we are told he is probably 27. Big difference. Since his arrival Bo has been on a very interesting diet to increase his intake of vitamins, minerals, fat, protein, and calories. He has not gained weight (so the weight tape says), but he has more pep, he holds his head high, is more alert, his ribs don't visibly stick out anymore (although his hip bones and withers do), and his coat is starting to shine. He is starting to fill out. And he has a quicker step, he even trots once in a while now. Now that his thick winter coat is falling out, the bare patches are starting to show, and he has many of them. I have also noticed that he has lice, lots of them.... so, time to treat that! Poor thing. The problem with lice in horses is that eventually when they have so many of them, they become anemic, and sickly. I found that treating horses with vetolice works well. Some people like the powder, but I avoid it for several reasons, but mainly because I think it is bad for the horses to breath in.... I have to put it in the mane, it will get into their lungs. Also, it washes off more easily than the vetolice. The good thing about horse lice is that humans can not get them (yeah). Bo has now been wormed twice. At the rate he is going, I think he will look great by July! Today he had a spay day and I managed to get through a lot of his winter coat, the ground was covered with his hair! He sure looked nice when I was done though! After that we went for a walk to a nice patch of first spring grass, and he loved it! He was very protective of his grass though, and I think he thought us humans were going to try to take his grass patch for ourselves, he was very defensive of his grass.... like a dog is about his bone! Watch out sheep! So I have included two photos, one from March 23rd and one from today. Keep watching, he will get real sweet looking!

Poor Old Bojangles

2010-04-14T13:36:00.001-03:00

Found out that Bo is likely 27 years old. Explains the sore stiff walk, poor weight gain, and lack luster energy level, he is a geriatric horse..... someone along the line lied about his age. Oh well, we will spoil him just the same. Poor Ole Bo.

Artistic Debut

2010-04-11T22:51:00.004-03:00

This weekend presented a new experience for two of my children, and myself. My oldest daughter Andrea was showing five of her original photographs at an art show in our community. This does not seem to be a daunting task, but Andrea is one of those quiet people who knows in her heart she has talent, but does not believe in herself enough to shout it from the roof tops. She needed me there for support, and was hoping to sell her prints to buy a new camera, so I am sure she was disappointed that she did not sell any prints today, BUT..... many people commented on her work, and told her what a wonderful job she did, which her confidence needed. Then a restaurant owner asked her to contact her about putting her artwork in her restaurant, this IS exciting, I don't think Andrea understands what an open door that is for her. So, she survived her first showing, and I am sure she is relieved, and hopefully inspired. I love her work, and I always look forward to seeing the world through her eyes.
Berenger was also there to support her, and basically was a well behaved little boy, and slept through a bit of the show... relieved that I did not have to leave, I think that would have plummeted Andrea into a panic attack! Oh, and as a footnote, Andrea has sold several prints to local doctors who have put her work both in their home and offices.... in case you were wondering. I am proud of my kids in all they do!

Random words of love and affection

2010-04-06T23:11:00.006-03:00

My cousin posted on her facebook that her child randomly said "I love you mom", and my first thought was the many times that my kids brought me to tears with random words of love and affection! It brought me back a few years ago to a car drive where I fought not crashing my car when blinded by tears. My children had put in the Rugrat's Paris cd..... and played the song of Cyndi Laupers - I want a mom who will last forever..... They sang the song with all their hearts, and the tears flowed! At first I tried to hide my tears from my trio of singers, but realized that I could not as I pulled the car over and sobbed with pride, and happiness! Every time I hear that song, I am brought back to that moment, and yes, I still cry. I will remember that moment, it being so powerful, I am sure it is permenately etched into my mind, I am sure Alzheimer's can not even steal that memory!
Relative to this thought - I worked as a nurse in all aspects of nursing including intensive care, pediatrics, oncology, and psych..... one thing that I learned in this work was that people only needed one thing, only craved one thing, and only regretted one thing.... to know they are loved, and having not said it at the right time, or even at all. One patient's mother sat by her dying daughter's bed, crying with guilt because her last words to her daughter were "hateful". She sobbed through her fingers, repeating primarily to herself, "I should have told her I loved her despite the fact that I was angry at her, I should have told her that she was so important to me, and that I was trying to do what was best for her...... I should have told her I loved her!!!" The wailing grew as her daughter took her last breath, and the last thing I heard her mother say to her support person as she was led from our unit was "I was too late, I didn't say I love you".
I grew up in a family where the words I love you were not spoken, and in actuality, a swat on the side of the head was the only form of "love" expressed in my home. So growing up to be a partner and parent who used the words with ease was not the norm. It was a struggle for me to learn to say "I love you", but I persevered, and nothing trains a woman in the area of expressing emotions of love like raising a child. I had never known the power of love until my first born child was placed in my arms and like a breaker switch that is flipped to it's on position, flooding the room with light, my heart learned the meaning of love, the power of love... turned on by the warmth of an eight pound child. My love for my children continues to grow daily, and my ability to say it as well, fostered by the rare glimpse into the lives of those who had reserved the words, or worse replaced them with hateful, thoughtless phrases they would live to regret.
I learned to turn the angry words to loving words when challenged by my youngest who stormed to her room, arms crossed tightly across her chest as she stomped up the stairs after being told to go to her room for bad behaviour. She yelled at me with all her anger "I HATE YOU!" and thank God I had the presence of mind to respond the way I did, but some higher being had to have whispered into my ear.... say I love you because I did. Each time I answered her I hate you with"Well, I love you!" her anger dissipated and a smile broke out across her face... until it turned into an "I love you too, but I am still mad"! to which I responded "me too".
So learn from my wisdom, if you can call it that. Be sure to tell your children you love them, day and night, even if you are not comfortable saying the words. Eventually they will feel very normal and come from your lips easily and with meaning. Your words may be the ones that keep your confused teen from ending his life. Your words may be the ones that send your child to school smiling, energized and ready to conquer the world with the power of love! Show your children frequent Random Words of Love and Affection!

Spa day for the pony

2010-03-28T22:24:00.002-03:00

Today was warmer than Saturday, so we had spa day for Bo today. He got brushed, got his mane and tail trimmed and he looks nice. Once winter is over, he will shed his thick furry coat and will look like a whole new pony! Today Berenger got his first pony ride on Bo. He had a big smile on his face the whole time! The lil' bugger loves that pony already.

How to fatten up a thin horse

2010-03-27T22:52:00.003-03:00

When I was running a shelter for abused and unwanted farm animals, I gained lots of experience in helping underweight or malnourished horses to gain weight - not fat, but muscle too. Like with people, large does not necessarily equate healthy. With horses, a big round belly does not equate health. I have seen big round bellies on animals infested with worms, and animals fed lots of nutrient deficient hay. The biggest mistake people make when trying to help horses gain weight, is whopping the wormers and hay to them. Not always what they need.
The first thing I do with thin and out of condition horses is to measure their height, girth, and evaluate their condition using a condition scale. This looks at their overall health, hydration, physical condition among other parameters. (See www.omafra.gov.on.ca for a conditioning scale)
I always worm new horses on the farm on arrival, BUT, one must use caution when worming. Treating a worm infested horse can cause the horse to colic. Use caution when worming a horse with no known worming history. I usually administer half the dose recommended and then repeat the worming in 4 weeks, then again in 4-6 weeks, then every 8 weeks for one year. I know that is overkill, but it works. I also ask a vet to check the horse for other potential problems like EIA, or some other illness. It is also a good idea to have a fecal sample tested for parasites, and to have the horses teeth floated.
The other mistake people make is "whopping the feed" to the horse. Again, use caution. You can colic a horse doing this! I always start the animal slowly... even if the previous owner says the horse was on a quart of feed at their farm, any horse I get, goes on a one day fast (from grain) and is then started slowly onto my feed. I will often try to get a half a bag of what they had at the previous barn and mix it with my feed slowly transitioning the horse onto my feed.

In the case of ponies, and Bojangles, I fast the pony from grain for one day,
day 2-7 I feed a handful of grain, 1/2 cup of bran, 1/8 cup of vegetable oil, 1/8 cup of ground flax seed, and a tablespoon of vitamins and minerals once a day in the evening. I like to feed in the evening because the heat from the digestive process helps keep the horse warm through the night, this is especially good in the winter. I will also warm the water in the winter to save on calorie consumption in the horse (the body temperature will drop if the belly is full of cold water, and will need to increase calorie consumption to warm the belly/horse, this takes away from fat formation to help the horse gain weight). Be sure to keep an eye out for signs of colic when changing the diet. I will increase the number of times I check on the horse during this time, including a late or middle of night check.
Day 8-15 I increase the proportions to 1 cup of grain, 3/4 cup of bran, 1/4 cup oil, 1/4 cup of ground flax seed, and a tablespoon of vitamins and minerals once a day.
Day 16-21 the proportions increases to 1 1/2 cups of grain, 1 cup of bran, 1/2 cup of oil, 1/4 cup of ground flax seed and a tablespoon of vitamins and minerals once a day.
Day 22-29 I give 2 cups of grain, 1 1/2 cups of brain, 1/2 cup of oil, 1/4 cup of ground flax seed, and a tablespoon of vitamins and minerals once a day.
For the next 30 days I give the same proportions twice a day. Watch the horses growth and condition daily, and measure girth for weight change at least every 30 days. This is really important with ponies as they can gain weight rapidly.
This method has worked very well for many horses in my care. It usually takes the average underweight horse 6-9 months to get to a healthy weight. I also avoid working the horse during the first few weeks of this program, and if they are gaining nicely, I start a walking program with them to help build muscle mass, starting slow at first, then increasing the amount of work slowly, all the while watching for weight loss.
Returning a horse to good health and condition is difficult, requires patience, and diligence. Hang in there, and be attentive to minor changes with the horse. Good luck and I hope this helps!

Before photos - Mr. Bojangles aka Bo

2010-03-26T22:21:00.011-03:00

Before photo of Bojangles taken March 26, 2010
There is a method for determining a horses condition called condition scoring, and Bo scored between a 1 and 2 which is not terrific. It is hard to tell but he is thinner than his wooly coat makes him look. I suspect that he was low man on the totem pole at his other barnyard and the other horses pushed him away from the best feed, and he got their left overs, and if he was pushed out of the shelter by the other horses, he would also have a hard time keeping his winter weight where it belongs. So my plan is to get his coat healthy, his weight up, and his muscle mass increased. With that he will perk up and get a little gumption. Watch and see how he goes!

I like to take before and after shots of the horses I get, as some have come looking shabby, thin, and very sad, and the transformation is amazing. Just for the fun of it, here is one of my past horses that went from rags to riches...... well, she looked the part anyway.

Nikki was a pony rescued by the SPCA. She and her foal were starving to death when found and cared for by the vet for a month, then brought to me for their further recovery. It took 9 months to get her back to good condition.

The picture on the left is Nikki in June 06 and the photo on the right is the same horse in September of 05. Nikkie came at one month after being rescued, and having vet care for one month, this photo shows her the day she arrived, imagine how bad she looked the day they got her! Yes, this is the same pony!!

Mr. Bojangles

2010-03-26T21:45:00.003-03:00

Hi All. It has been forever since I last wrote on my blog, but I am back. The baby is growing like crazy, and is nearly two, and we decided he needed a pony. Of course, finding a good pony is very difficult. I thought we had found the one, but on second meeting she tried to kick me twice. So much for the well trained pony. Then I got a call that there was a pair of ponies in need of a new home very quickly, and I agreed to take them on. Well the morning they were to be delivered, the mare broke her leg and had to be put down before they left their home. The decision was made to still receive Bojangles. Upon his arrival, I noticed that he was thin, and in desperate need of some loving. He has come to the right place. This little gelding is going to look like a different little pony altogether come June! So, I invite you to monitor his progress, and cheer him on with me.
Berenger is very happy to have a pony, and I think that Bo is very happy to be here with us, he even seems to like the sheep. His first day here, he ate sumptuous hay - like a pig, drank lots of fresh Pleasant Valley Spring water, hung out with the sheep, and had a delicious bran mash supper fit for a king! Bear sat on his back for just a minute and both Bo and Bear seemed to enjoy it. Tomorrow Bo gets a spa day compete with manicure (hoof trimming), hair styling (grooming), and a leisurely day in the sun hanging out with his sheep friends. You deserve it Bo!

Girl Power

2008-09-27T16:36:00.003-03:00

Today my 4-H Sheep group (two 9 year old girls at present) showed their grit. The theme of the day was Girl Power. It was pouring rain, and a bit cold to begin with. The girls toughed it out though in true farm girl fashion, complete with slickers and rainboots. The girls learned how to measure wood, hammer nails, mark wood for cutting, use of the drill, and a level, and basic safety issues. Together we built a 11ft by 6 ft sheep stall for my rams including an external hay feeder with slanted "bars" to help decrease hay wastage. Two hours later, we were done. All in all, we had fun, it came out well, they learned to use some basic tools for building, and they learned that girls can do what a guy can do if they work together. I am sure the sheep will be very happy with their new stall. High Fives all around girls!

Harvest Time

2008-09-21T01:15:00.002-03:00

Well, the time has come, summer ends. What little of it we had. This summer was the coldest, wettest summer I have ever seen in my lifetime. Not that I am complaining about it being cold, but I am complaining about the poor output from my garden. It was a poor year for gardening. As I talk to the many local farmers and gardeners, everyone has the same complaint. It is next to impossible to grow root vegetables in saturated ground, and near impossible to get the hay and grains in this year! It is very discouraging to the farmers and gardeners alike. I am discouraged as I looked forward to the crops to get me through the long winter. I had visions of feeding the baby fresh garden vegetables. With the ever increasing prices in the grocery stores, the last thing I want to do is buy something I can grow in the grocery store. Not to mention the gas prices!!! Goodness!
How will we survive it. So half my hay is in, I picked the last squash and pumpkins today. I need to pickle my beets this week. Plant my garlic soon too. It seems that the work never ends. Then the garden needs to be tilled, and prepared for winter. I am still drying herbs though. Guess I better get that done too. I am having a hard time washing wool too. I need a few good sunny days to dry the fleece after I wash it, and can only do one at a time because of the amount of work and space required. It has been poor weather for that too. I only sheared my rams this last week because they never stayed dry long enough to get them done this year. I have been trying to get to them since spring. What a shame though, lost half their wool as I needed to leave an inch on for fall, and they matted too. I will never let that happen again. Next spring they will be put in the barn for a week if needed so they can dry out!
Well, on the positive side, soon I will have fresh meat as butchering time is coming. Also will be able to make loads of applesauce, and put apples in the freezer and root cellar. The apples are juicy this year!
Along with this time of year is the fall fair. I entered Berenger in a baby contest. He placed third, two little girls beat him, it is awfully hard to beat the girls. He was very good about it. I guess he did not want to make the little girls look bad. What a gentleman! Bear is busy learning to roll around, attempting to crawl, trying new foods, and babbling. He will be a verbacious little bugger when he gets talking. He has been helping me can, he sits in his back pack carrier on his fussier days and squaks at me to hurry up. No wasting time with him around to keep me on my toes!
The nice thing about harvest time is that the leaves are changing color and fall is my favorite time of year! The bugs are dying or disappearing into the ground, and you can enjoy a nice long hike in the woods! I miss that! Bear can sit in the back pack now, so we will start hiking, time for him to learn to appreciate the fall too! I knitted him a hunter orange hat the other day, he is so cute in it! To all of you who hate winter, my advice to you is to get outside now, hike and enjoy the smells of fall, the sounds of the crisp fall leaves underfoot, and the sights of those beautiful fall colors! The best time of year is too short, seems it's even shorter than summertime. Enjoy it while you can!

Plastic or Cloth?

2008-09-04T14:44:00.000-03:00

One day, while I was pregnant, my environmentalist daughter and I were discussing the merits of using cloth versus plastic diapers (meaning pampers etc). We figured out that if the average baby wore diapers and then pull ups for two years - it would cost $20,000+ dollars. Yikes! When you think that this equals one year of university including books and meals, and housing... that's alot of dough! So if you use commercial diapers for two years you are basically flushing your child's first year of university tuition down the drain so to speak. That is staggering! I don't even want to think about the cost to the environment. Ever been to a landfill and actually seen the piles of diapers and the plastic bags they travel there in? If we had to personally bring our own garbage into the dump, I think we would be more aware of what we are doing to our poor earth. If you don't believe me, go to your local dump, take a good look around! It is pretty sad when you really think that that stuff will mostly still be there hidden under the soil for thousands of years. Don't believe me - what are all the items the archeologists are digging up. Someone's trash from 1200 bc. So what am I doing about this? Well, as much as I hate doing all the wash and playing with poopie diapers, I am using cloth diapers. I had a problem with all the ones you can buy in the stores (if you can find any), and the hand me down ones from god knows when just were not cutting it (leaking something awful), I decided to design my own. What's more is that the linings are made from recycled materials! Yup, cool eh? The best thing is that if you find plastic diaper covers (from gerber or other company) - they don't leak (unless you put them on wrong or the plastic pants are too loose. I love them. So I thought I would share them. Feel free to call me if you want me to make some for you!

Lonely for Lucy

2008-09-01T00:04:00.001-03:00

It is with great saddness that my family announces the passing of Lucy. Lucy was our granny goat, of Angora breeding. She has lived with us for 7 years. Not only did she provide us with mohair fiber to keep us warm, but she also provided us with joy and laughter. Lucy had a great personality. Loads of it! Lucy came to us when we called her name, she had a unique bleeting noise that she greeted me with in the morning. Lucy smiled, really she smiled - we have the picture to prove it, especially after giving birth to Murphy. Lucy was quite the trooper then. She had lived on a farm where she was very neglected, and came to us so thin, that you could not tell she was pregnant. Actually she was 4 months pregnant at the time. I was very surprised when she popped out a baby one cold March morning. Lucy struggled to regain her weight, while nursing Murphy, but she slowly came around. Last winter was very hard on Lucy, and again she had trouble keeping weight on. Upon examination we discovered that she had no teeth, and nearly died during the snow storms of 2008. My daughter, Andrea, made it her mission to keep Lucy alive at least until spring so that we would be able to bury her. She "designed" a mash that succeeded in bringing Lucy around, and in fact she did very well with this mash. But as this summer has progressed, Lucy digressed. And so it is with great saddness that we decided that Lucy should be put down before it gets much colder. She was surrounded by her loving human family as she took her last nibbles of tender green grass, and an always appreciated scratch under the chin. Lucy will be missed. We loved you Lucy! Thank you for giving us Malachy and all your grandkids who will remind us of your smiles and sweet antics. Rest in peace old girl.

"WASH YOUR HANDS!"

2008-08-28T22:17:00.000-03:00

In the recent days with the listeriosis scares, I feel compelled to speak out. As a nurse, as a mother, as a consumer, I think that people need to take a deep breath, and do a little more research, and wash their hands!!! I repeat; Wash your Hands!! How many times does your mother, your teachers, your employers have to say it before it sinks in? Why do we need signs in our public bathrooms telling us to do something as basic as washing our hands after sneezing on our hands, or doing the bathroom ritual.... Haven't our mothers been yelling at us since a very young age to wash our hands, perhaps there is a very good reason for it?
Do you know that there are more than 250 foodborne diseases in existance? Are you aware that most of these, like listeriosis, are not new? Everyone knows Salmonella, and E.Coli, but the others are less known. Listeria, Camphylobacter, Calicivirus (Like Norwalk), Shigella, Hepatitis A, Giardia, Cryptociridia, and Clostridium Botulinum (Botulism). These are just a small number of foodborne diseases that we know of, and almost all of them can be prevented from making us ill simply by washing our hands, fully cooking our meat, and properly cleaning our kitchens and utensils including cutting boards. Now there is also documentation that states that you should not eat and drink unpasturized dairy products, like raw milk, and cheeses made from raw milk, but many people do, myself included. The only problem I myself have suffered due to drinking raw milk is Listeria infection which contributed to miscarriages. After I stopped drinking the raw milk, I was able to carry a healthy baby to term. So I fully support pregnant women NOT drinking raw milk.
Now they are talking about Irradiating our food to change the DNA of bacteri to inhibit them from reproducing and growing on our food. How can exposing our food to radiation improve our health risks? I fully oppose this!
Now here is a thought - how is it that people who smoke and take illicit drugs are hysterically concerned about listeria infections... do they not realize that what they are doing is killing them with 100% certainty. It may take years longer, but their habits are most definately killing them, this makes me shake my head.
And another thought - is it possible that our new hand cleaners have deceased our resistance to bacteria and viruses? Perhaps we need to return to good ole soap and water?
This brings me to a statement so many older people have quoted after hearing all this frantic, sensationalism about listeria and salmonella - "We all gotta die of sumthin" and of course, as my 98 year old patient says, "What ever happened to good ole hand washing!" She reminds me that in her day there were no refrigeraters, or food inspectors, or freezers. " We all survived, if you washed your hands and cooked your food properly, you didn't get sick". Do you think that we have too much technology, and too much science nowadays? Perhaps we should think simple logic. Handwashing worked in 1866, why wouldn't the technique work today? So the mother in me will remind you all to calm down, cook your food properly and WASH YOUR HANDS BEFORE YOU PUT ANYTHING IN YOUR MOUTH OR HANDLE ANYTHING YOU PUT INTO YOUR MOUTH!

Listeriosis Lessons

2008-08-26T23:01:00.001-03:00

In a time when food is becoming a huge issue in the news, I am grateful that I grow my own. Since I was a teenager, I have memories of "food scares". The first I ever heard of and was old enough to understand was the razors in the halloween apples issue. It seems that 30 years ago I was just old enough to understand that some crazy person was putting razor blades in apples that were being handed out to children as halloween treats. I can remember my mother cutting my apples open to be sure they were safe. In the mid 80's the water was unsafe to drink, legionaires disease was the culprit then. Red food dye was suddenly cancer causing, and the color of candy changed. When my children were small in the early 1990's, the hospitals were x-raying the candy because pins were showing up in the food. With the dawn of 9-11 anthrax threats increased suspicions. With rising gas prices people are becoming more aware of where their food comes from. Suddenly everyone is concerned with the distance our food travels and it's freshness. Now, today, listeriosis is a major issue, and again I am hearing people say - "buy local".
Maybe this is sounding like a rant, well, I continue to rant. Our goverment had been doing absolutely nothing to encourage local farmers to continue farming, there is no assistance or compensation for farmers when things go wrong, when taxes rise, and cost of feed rises. In recent years the government is starting to regulate farmers, and has increased our taxes and have instituted all sorts of fees for farmers. They want us to belong to associations and registries all at a heafty price, not to mention, most farmers do not want the governments hands into the running of their farms. One older farmer told me that when the government has a hand in on your farm through incentive programs for instance, and if your farm fails, they will take your farm, they do not care that the property belonged to your family for the past 200 years and that you had planned on handing it down to your child. The government offers significant funding to foriegners to come from other countries to move here and farm on a large scale, they pay them to move here, pay to set them up with large farm properties and modern state of the art equipment, but refuse to help farmers whose families have farmed New Brunswick soil for over a hundred years. New Brunswick farmers are discouraged, angry, and feel helpless. In their hearts they know that local customers are going to be crying out for local produce and meats, but they will not be able to continue farming.
What will happen when we can no longer get our food from across the borders, when costs to ship food are so high that the only place you will be able to shop is from local producers, and there are none - thanks in part to the powers that be (Harper for one)?
I know were my food comes from, I know what the animals were fed, that they were humanely slaughtered, what conditions they were butchered under, and stored in. I know that my food is fresh, and safe. Hormone free, antibiotic and chemical free. My only concern now is how will I keep people from sneaking out from the city and stealing my food from under my nose? Yes, it happens. This winter a chicken-napper was loose. Stealing three of my birds in one day, and five from another farmer who lives nearby. They even took his crate that was stored beside his coop. I anticipate the day will come when people who can not afford the food in the stores (wait, this is already happening), and feel they have no other way to feed their children (the food banks are already running dry), will turn to thievery to feed their children. I know it is coming. I planned this years garden just for that purpose, with the cost of heating and fuel this winter, I expect the chicken theif to return. So when planting my garden this spring, I planted extra food, twice what I normally plant. If I catch someone stealing my food this year, perhaps I will invite them to have something from my garden. How could I turn my back on them when obviously they must be feeling pretty desperate, enough so to sneak into a chicken coop in daylight, and steal my hens. If they had asked I would have given them some beef, pork, lamb, and vegetables too. Honesty would have paid higher dividends.

Growing Up

2008-08-25T23:20:00.000-03:00

Growing up is hard to do. The crooner missed out when he named his song breaking up is hard to do, but personally I think growing up is even harder. With a break up, you just shrug it off and move on. With growing up, sometimes you can not shrug it off and move on. Sometimes the things you have learned along the way cling like a burdock in wool. You just can't shake the memory. Everyone has had an experience in their childhood that would qualify as traumatic, or unforgettable, some people make it to adulthood without bad experiences, but most don't. I think I got every one's bad experiences for them. I will not sit here and recall them all, but I will say that out of just about every bad experience I have had, a good one resulted. Huh? Yes, I did say that. Haven't you ever had something bad happen to you, and you thought it was the worst thing ever, then many years down the road you were able to help someone through the same exact problem? That has happened to me time and again. So I was able to turn the bad experience into a salvageable good experience in a manner of speaking. We learn from our mistakes, we learn to live from the bad experiences, and we learn to be survivors after the really horrible traumas. I am a survivor. Ever wonder how your friend can repeatedly pick herself up after every horrible experience in her life and think that if it were you, you could not possibly survive it? Ever have a counselor say to you, "Any other woman would have killed herself already". I am a survivor. Now my teen daughter is growing up, moving out on her own into the world, and all I can think is that I do not want her to learn to be a survivor - I don't want her to go through the traumas I went through at that age. I want to protect her. I trust her, I just don't trust the mean, cruel, sick world we live in. I pray that she has a chance to become street smart without the traumas that thrust us into becoming street smart the hard way. Growing up for some is easy, uncomplicated, fun and trauma free, but for most of us, it is not. Don't let that fool you though, even the easy road is hard. It is just that the hard road is treacherous. My advise to my daughter is simply this, be alert to trouble, don't be so trusting, and don't do obviously stupid things that can potentially result in a traumatic experience. You are a very naive and trusting girl, but it is time to become a smart and strong woman now. Remember the lessons I taught you, and heed all the warnings you have heard in your lifetime. I lived the traumas, I want to spare you everyone of them. Learn from my experiences and mistakes. I love you. Mom

Insomnia then and now

2008-08-19T03:03:00.000-03:00

Consider Insomnia as it relates to the time period in your life in which you experience it. When we have children, everything is experienced in a different way, even Insomnia. When I was single, and had a day off from work coming up, Insomnia was not such a big deal. Back then, before children, I could read a novel or watch late night tv all night long, and sleep the entire next day. After children, I can still read the novel, watch late night tv, or sit at my computer all night long, but the next day, I will pay for it. Dearly. When I was younger, I could eat ice cream in bed, or even potatoe chips and chocolate bars, and not worry about the consequences - sleeplessness due to the caffeine hit. After children, I don't dare eat chocolate after 6 pm for fear that I will have Insomnia and pay for it the next day. So I sit here at 3 am, watching the olympics, hanging out on face book, searching the net out of boredom, doing sudoku puzzles, and writing emails to everyone I know and don't know - waiting for my eyes to get tired and heavy, waiting.... and waiting.... I never should have eaten those chocolate chips. I know I craved them all day, but I should have controlled myself. The temptation was too great. So now, I anticipate, and plan for tomorrow, or should I say, later today... for the penalty of Insomnia, for eating chocolate in the evening. I am sure the baby will be very irritable, and wide awake very early, and the sheep will break out of their pens, and the goats will get their horns stuck in the fence. Lucy, the goat, who is elderly and ailing may even be found deceased and I may need to dig a hole to bury her. The cow might get out and run down the highway. The phone will ring just as the baby and I lay down for a late morning nap, and today will be the day that everyone I know will decide to stop by and visit, all because I at chocolate, and suffered from Insomnia. Back then, I could have slept all day long, but this is now,surely I will suffer the consequences - of Insomnia.

Living Room Antics - Does this sound familiar?

2008-07-26T17:20:00.000-03:00

It is friday evening. The laundry has been piling up all week and has been washed and tossed on the couch. Enter five people all of laundry folding age. The first in the room quickly plants herself in the most comfortable chair in the room after being certain that she will not have to leave her seat again for the remainder of the evening. Mentally she goes through her mental check list. Popcorn, pop, craft project, book, pen, paper, candy, snuggle blanket, clicker. All present. Time to mind meld with the tele. The second child enters the room, happy to claim the last laundry free furniture that is comfortable in the room. He also quickly runs down his check list. Chips, pop, ipod, snuggle blanket, shoot - she got the clicker, now I have to watch what she wants to (which isn't much, it is either CTV, or Global... that's all we get out here, but after a few years with no tv, they happily take it). The third child and one adult walks into the room, both look peeved that they were too late to get the good chairs. The stubborn teen girl takes the stiff leather seated kitchen chair that resides in the corner in the event that I actually can find time to spin wool. Of course, I get the couch or the floor. Being too "old" and stiff to sit on the floor, I shove the laundry to one end of the couch and beg for help folding the laundry. No takers. In comes the man of the house. Self appointed bully of the best furniture in the house. He stands in front of the most comfy chair, his snack in one hand, pop in the other. He waits while giving his quiet stare, which has no effect on my youngest. Then he grunts. Still she is too stubborn to move. He knows one thing that will make her move. He turns his tush to her and starts to sit. Weighing 250 pounds she really only has one option. She gets angry at being bullied from her seat and flops herself across the pile of laundry on the couch, knocking down the small pile of freshly folded clothing. I snap her on the tush and ask her to move it. She gives that teen sigh, and crosses her arms and plops down at the end of the couch after shoving the clothes toward me. She's not going to help fold laundry. Okay, I will do it myself. What mother has not said that. After the third basket of laundry, I get tired and start throwing the clothing belonging to each person in the room at them, "here, fold your clothes or you will wear them wrinkled". My son balls his up and says that is good enough for him. My man shoves his onto the floor and vows he will do it later, and my youngest just holds hers on her lap, I know they will end up in the pile again. My oldest daughter folds hers only to take them upstairs and put them on her bedroom floor. "Why do I bother?" I mumble to myself. I should just throw their dirty clothes back on the floors of their rooms and tell them to just pick their clothes off the floor to wear. Silently I crab to myself about them, and fold all the clothes. I love friday night! Wo - hoo! Don't you?
"

While You Sleep

2008-07-24T13:38:00.000-03:00

While You Sleep came to me at 3 am in the morning while watching my infant son sleep.

While you sleep I quietly watch you in awe,
at your perfection, at your beauty,
realizing what a gift you are.
Fluttering eyelids and crooked smiles,
fleeting that they are.
Puckered lips - are you kissing me goodnight?
Tiny fingers clenched in a tiny little fist,
thumb tucked in.
Sometimes you clasp your hands together
under your chin - Are you praying to God?
Knees drawn up and tiny feet tucked under,
wrapped one around another -
Will you rub your feet together like I do while falling asleep?
I marvel at how small you are,
but how fast you are growing.
I feel blessed to have you,
grateful for the second chance,
committed to do my best
and to love you forever - unconditionally.
So I pray to God to keep you safe
and thank Him for the gift that is you.
I watch you and love you
while you sleep.

Not my best writing, but first draft in the middle of the night written by the light of a television while lying in bed. I just could not sleep until I put these thoughts on paper.
I am very grateful to have this sweet child. Everyone thinks that I am crazy having another child when I have one off to university, and two more fast approaching university age. Apparently I am not alone in trying parenthood all over again. I have several new friends in the same boat - not a one regrets her choice. How can you regret such a God given gift. I am thankful for my little boy - colic and sleepless nights included. Thank you God for answering my prayer!

Excerpts from "Farm life for City kids"

2008-05-23T17:31:00.000-03:00

This is a couple of excerpts from my short story based on farm life for city kids, I hope you enjoy it.

Living on a farm isn't all work, as my kids soon discovered. They anticipated hard, laborious work, but soon learned that living on a farm can be fun as well. Suddenly the television did not seem so important. Sure the Saturday morning cartoons still play an important role in their growth and development, but all of a sudden the out of doors was luring them away from that as well. Ordinarily I would wake up on Saturday mornings to the noise of three children fighting over a remote, or which channel to watch, or even more frustrating, which character did they wish to see outwit the other the most - the road runner or the coyote? Occasionally the morning fight was over which child ate the other child's share of froot loops. Since moving to the country, the fights seem to have dissipated. Now when I wake in the early hours of a sunny Saturday, I hear silence. Wondering if an alien abduction has occurred, I creep about the upper level of our 15 room house peering out windows wondering which direction the children have gone in today. Most often I would see my son, dressed in full army uniform borrowed from his step father's hand-me-downs, B.B. gun tucked under his arm, in hot pursuit of a nasty little pigeon. Normally I would frown on this, but lately the pigeons are outnumbering the farm animals, and they have been entertaining themselves by playing that game called "bombs away". Tired of pigeons pooping on my head and my hay, I approved the hunting expeditions. At the price of hay today, a few lost pigeons certainly were understandable. My only rule, one shot, one kill. I did not like the little bombers, but I did not want them to suffer.
Looking out another window, I see my daughter brushing her horse, enjoying a moment of peace and companionship. The horse munching at my lawn, my daughter dreamily brushing her black silky mane, maybe she is using the horse to mow the lawn so she does not have to. I don't care, as long as it gets done; it makes no difference if the horse decorates the lawn with a few recycled hay plops. My youngest is most likely to be firmly planted in front of the tele, munching away on a dry bowl of froot loops, most likely mine, watching every cartoon program available. Our rule is if you are going to let your mind rot, at least do it folding laundry. Some days she folds laundry, other days, she sits with a pile of laundry in front of her and one item in her hand in case she gets "caught", so she can suddenly pick the item up and fold it. She thinks I fall for that one, but after she picked up the same item several times that day, I figured her out. Oh well. Running a farm is very busy, and hard work, and you have to learn to pick your battles, and fighting over laundry is not my idea of a battle worth fighting over. The animals don't care if my clothes are wrinkled.

My daughters love the idea that they can shoot a bow and arrow. Andrea has gotten pretty good at it, and laughs that she is better than the boys in her school. Andrea has always enjoyed doing things better than the boys, and used to wear her lime green t-shirt nearly everyday to express that thought. It said, "You pick the toys, I'll beat the boys" and she often got scolded by her father for using the phrase, "boys drool, girls rule". She was always my competitive one. Now her little sister has inherited those sentiments.

Another form of entertainment on the farm is mud wrestling in the spring. Of course when you think of mud wrestling you think of two people, but in reality, on the farm mud wrestling usually involves a child attempting to catch a lamb or goat. In the spring when the mud is at a premium and the rain never stops, it is inevitable that a lamb will escape the fencing seeking that first luscious blade of grass. All hands on deck are required when in pursuit of a lamb capable of performing triple flips in midair. I thought cats were amazing at falling and landing on their feet, well this one little lamb made our cat look clumsy. Combine five humans chasing an agile lamb in a muddy yard, and you have an out and out mud fight. The kind where every one involved except the lamb is covered with mud from head to toe. The shower takes a beating that day; as it is too cold to hose off outside.

The Green Grass Grows

2008-05-22T12:38:00.000-03:00

May 22 - I sit in my window gazing across acres of lush green grass. Less than a month ago the snow was to the roof of my barn, it is such a relief to see green after such a long winter. Like everyone else (less the ski hill owners), I couldn't wait for this winter to end. I thought it never would. Never in my life had I seen so much snow, and I never remember being snowed in so bad I had to send my dog and children through a window to put them outside. Yes, I had to climb through a window to go outside on some mornings. Several times we had to dig out doors, and having several barns full of animals, meant a lot of mornings shoveling snow from in front of doors. It got to the point that we needed to carve stairs out of the snow banks to go down into the holes we dug in front of the barn doors so that we could feed the poor sheep, goats, and cows. Eventually the snow was so high the sheep were climbing over the snow banks to get out of their pens, then all became captive in the one spot I could keep them after adding fencing to a sheltered opening.

Thank God spring is here! I anticipated great oceans of puddles in my barnyard due to the amount of melting snow, but miraculously God had intervened by not allowing the ground to freeze beneath all that snow, so drainage was quick. Amen. I had not looked forward to trudging through mud all spring. So, I look out over green fields of timothy and grasses blowing in the wind, waiting for the sheep and cows to converge upon them, growing lush and sweet. Oh, won't the animals be happy next week when I send them into their version of heaven.

Happy Birthday!

2008-05-20T19:24:00.000-03:00

May 10th - My 43rd birthday, and now the birthday of my beautiful baby boy! Berenger (Bear) Garrett Oliver arrived at 2131h in a blaze of glory three weeks early! Actually, I would have to say that it was the birth from hell from my perspective. I have never had a bad, or painful delivery. I would say that this one was intended to be sure of preventing me from ever thinking of doing it again! A week before Bear arrived, I had two fillings done without novacaine - without pain, and I always thought I had a high pain tolerance, but nothing prepared me for the seering pain that I went through in the last three hours of my birth experience with Bear, or the last three horrendous minutes that I can only describe as Satan himself coming through the birth canal with fists full of razor blades!!! Never again! I am cured. Enough of that, now for the important stuff. My pregnancy with Berenger can only be described as long, and full of little problems along the way. I had conceived him only weeks after a horrible miscarriage in July of 2007, and my doctor had dubbed my pregnancy "high risk". Throughout the pregnancy it seemed everything was going wrong. At least from my perspective. I had wanted a home birth, but developing diabetes and a group B Strep infection destroyed that idea. In retrospect - thank God I was in the hospital. Thought I'd never say that. As it turns out, Bear was born grey and with a very weak cry - I remember him lying on my belly greyblue and heard my voice urging him to cry. I just wanted to hear the healthy wail of a new baby and Bear could barely muster the energy to take a breath. He was wisked away to the neonatal unit while I lay exhausted in the bed. I prayed that he would be okay, I could not bear to lose him. Well, the long and short of it is, that after a few days in the neonatal intensive care, he is home with me, healthy and beautiful! What a good baby I have. I have waited a long time for this child to come into my life. I couldn't be any happier.

Home

2008-05-06T14:59:00.000-03:00

I grew up in Colchester Vermont, but the Pleasant Valley is my HOME. Never have I felt such a connection, or a love for any place. That connection was immediate. The house was not listed on the market when a potential employer called me and suggested I see this house. I had told her I wanted an old farm house, and a hobby farm. When I drove into the yard to see the home, I was sure it would be out of my price range. Still I viewed the home. The minute I walked into the house, it seemed to comfort me, and I immediately fell in love. The barnyard would need a lot of work to make it functional, but the house was over a hundred years old and seemingly in good condition. Later, an inspector confirmed that the house was sound and safe, and I made an offer. Well, if I told you what I paid for it, you would not believe me. Let's just say, it was a steal! So now, seven years later, I sit in my office window, and look out over my 30 acres of field, trees, rivers, pastures, and my barn yard. A feeling of peace intermingles with pride. I love it here, even in the winter. My closest neighbors are 10 acres away, and the solitude is refreshing after living in Boston. Outside the chickens cluck and squawk as they comb through my spring gardens, not yet planted, looking for the first bugs and worms the gently warming soil produce. I pray that they eat the weeds too. I love to garden, I hate to weed. The occasional blat of a heavily laden ewe draws my eye to another part of the yard, lambing season seems drawn out this year. Perhaps complicated by the fact that I too am heavily laden with child. I have empathy for Gretel, heavy with twins. Her discomfort apparent in the hot sun, still fully clothed in her heavy winter coat of steel blue grey wool. My baby is large, my belly huge, and bending is not easily accomplished, and as much as I want to sit in the sun, the heat is too much. Yes, it is only 18 degrees celsius, but the heat is too much for a woman or beast at the end of her pregnancy. Soon this crazy farm will be home to another little beast, my boy child, eager to enter this sometimes unloving world. My prayer for him is that he will become a caring, productive member of society, one interested in protecting lands such as this, untouched and home to wildlife and a place where one can find peace, a child who loves this farm as much as I do, and maybe someday this will be HIS HOME. A place to always love, and return to, a place that brings peace, comfort, and pleasure. HOME.

LUCY
My farm is home to many breeds of sheep, all on the rare breeds list of Canada. Shetlands were the first to make this previously unused farm land home, then came the Jacobs with their many horns and brown and white spots. Later the Leister and Cotswold came, and the Romney. My favorite beast on the farm at present is Lucy. One of my first aquisitions. Lucy is a Angora goat, she produces enough Mohair in a year to keep my busy fingers happy, best of all Lucy has personality. Capable of making me laugh, and always a good listener, Lucy has become a good friend. She is wise with age, and leads the barnyard. Lucy no longer has teeth. A gummer. We almost lost her this winter. One morning I went to the barn to feed, it was nearly minus 20. I opened the stall door to feed the selected sheep that wintered inside this year to help them grow or maintain weight for various reasons, and Lucy was laying near the door, barely breathing. I reached in to pull her out of the stall as the other animals were stepping on her, and she lifted her head attempting to stand. I helped her to her feet and moved her to another stall, and quickly retreated into the house to get my oldest daughter to help me. Andrea is a natural with animals, and is destined to be a vet, but she is a bit of a tree hugger and wants to study environmental studies. I not so secretely hope she becomes a vet, that is where her talents are. Andrea mixed up a warm mash of oatmeal, raisin bran, shredded carrots and diced apples with just the right touch of molasses, donned her winter attire, and headed for the barn declaring that no animal was dying on her shift. Over the next few days Andrea prepared her mash and nursed Lucy back to health. Now three months later, Lucy once again rules the roost. Andrea grins with satisfaction, knowing that her efforts once again prevented an untimely passing on the farm.

A beginning May 6, 2008

2008-05-06T01:03:00.000-03:00

May 6, 2008 - This is my first attempt at blogging. I thought I would give it a whirl. It is 1 am in the morning, and the baby is busy kicking and making it impossible to sleep. My due date is fast approaching, and I am looking forward to finally seeing this little child that grows within me. It has been an interesting week. I am trying to adjust to being on maternity leave, and not taking it well because I can not physically do all the work that needs to be done. The sheep are lambing, and so far we have had five lambs born this week. This has prompted me to start writing another chapter in my future memoirs - this chapter would be called The Pregnant Shepardess. I am an active person and being unable to perform all the normal farming duties has begun to make me testy.

Andrea, my oldest child, graduates from high school soon. We spent an awful lot of time sewing the most amazing dress for her to wear to the grad grand march (parade) and prom! It is a purple and green taffata tartan with lace underskirt... very pretty and unique! She looks like a princess in it. There will soon be photos of it on my face book page (kimberly peer- if you want to look it up). Well - I am going to make another attempt at sleep, if only the baby will cooperate. Take Care.