Birdsong and painted skeins

A new batch of painted handspun Jacob sheep wool yarn in the predawn blue light

The bird and insect symphony was so rich in this morning's predawn blue light, as I was hanging newly painted skeins of yarn out to dry. I wished I could share the whole experience with everyone. But even if I had video'd it, the richness of the morning air, the deep blueness of the light and the unique harmonies of the morning chorus would not have come through.

So, just grab a cuppa your favorite morning beverage, (mine is Dean's Beans Mocha Sumatra coffee, cold with goat's milk) take a deep breath and imagine sharing this beautiful blue morning here on Havencroft farm.

Have a delicious day.

Dipping our toes back in the show waters

I love showing livestock. Ever since I fitted and showed my first Brown Swiss dairy heifer Catalpa, as part of a class at Colorado State University, I've loved showing livestock. I love the fitting and preparing. I love seeing all the other breeds and breeders and animals in my chosen breed. I love the excitement of watching everyone get ready. But mostly love being in the class and hearing the judge give the reasons for his placings.It's an adrenaline charged way to learn good, better, best in your chosen animals.

National Western Stock Show in Denver has always been one of my favorite places to show and in 2006 the centennial year of the show, we took Grand Champion Farm Flock in the natural colored sheep division with our Jacob Sheep. That banner hangs on my wall to this day, along with several other grand champion and reserves and some pretty blue firsts.

Then we moved here to the Ozarks and had a lot of other things on our plate. But, next month, the Jacob Sheep Breeders Association is having it's Annual meeting and sheep and fleece judging in Sedalia, Missouri, only 4 hours from our farm and WE"RE GOING!

Hester getting her haircut.

I'm taking three little ewes to show. Two yearlings Hanna and Hester and this year's little Iko. That's two Canoe Lake Sonic Boom daughters and one Havencroft Dapper Dan daughter. They'll have registry inspections there, so I hope to catch up on my registrations, something else that has fallen through the cracks.

I'm donating this Corriander vest to the fundraising auction. We're figuring travel plans and packing lists and ... The show is Labor Day Weekend, just a month a way. Shawn and I are getting to go together. Yippee!

Milk or goats? Milk

Shawn and I have always enjoyed traveling together. Driving and riding in the car is a great way to focus on each other and have in depth discussions about a wide range of topics.

Yesterday, we drove down to Stuttgart to deliver another order of brooms to the Museum of the Grand Prairie. They have a beautiful gift shop and sell a lot of Laffing Horse brooms. It takes us about 4 hours to get there from Mountain View. That was plenty of time for me to prattle on about the discussion I started here in my blog yesterday. I loved my Alpine dairy goats of the past. I love my Lamancha dairy goats of the present.

Henna on the milk stand and Harley wondering what's up.

Do I want to be a goat breeder and produce top quality dairy goats? Or do I want to produce milk from well loved dairy goats. They are not exclusive. I love any goats I have, and crossbred goats can be top quality. But they do involved different decisions.
By the time we got to Pine Bluff to look at the wonderful goats there, I knew that I was looking for milkers to add to my milking string. While the romantic idea of going back to being a goat breeder was a sweet dream, it really doesn't fit into my life right now.

So, I had a nice visit with John Wagner and looked at his gorgeous, healthy goats - and came home without any. That gave us a chance to do some shopping at Tractor Supply and Lowes for supplies on the way home.

I'm still looking to add a milker or two, or a really nice doeling or two to the flock, but I am no longer looking for a buck or looking for purebreds. I just need healthy goats with nice udders who give great tasting milk. I'm still picky.

And I'm really appreciating having a partner in life to spin my wild ideas with so that I can weave a little reality into them. Thanks Shawn.

Dos Manos Alpines, a trip down memory lane

I've had dairy goats since 1979. A couple years ago, my mom found a letter I'd written to my Grandma about my first goats. I learned to milk goats from Finley Nelson in Fort Collins, Colorado. Finley also taught me to drive ponies, enjoy reading aloud to friends and to like Zane Grey westerns. Finley had a fine herd of heavy milking Saanen and Alpine does. He taught me to always buy the best male animal for your flock that you can afford. That's the best way to improve any livestock, from cattle to dairy goats. After all, your male is half your genetics. When Finley dispersed his herd, and I bought a few. I loved the beautiful black and white Sundgau does.

 I met Susan Moore about that same time when I was working on a ranch in Waverly, Colorado. Her La Luna Dairy Goats became the foundation of my Alpine herd. La Luna Innocencia was my favorite doe for many years. We had her until she was 12 and then she went to a friend's herd in Penrose, Colorado. She was hoping to get one more set of kids out of her.

The bucks that shared my life at that point were Fir Ridge RR Vesta's Andre; Tenmile Rommell Knut; Redwood Hills Nobleman; and Reparte', aka Party-goat. Andre became the most agressive buck I've every had. Nobleman was a true gentleman. I eventually culled all of Party-goat's descendants from the flock. They were all fence jumpers. That seems to be a highly heritable trait.

I had my flock on DHIR test. I just recently discovered the American Dairy Goat Association's registration database online and I spent a fun few minutes researching my old herd name, Dos Manos.  Dos Manos, two hands make the work go easier, milking smoother and working on the homestead lighter. Some of my Dos Manos girls milked as well as I remembered. Others, I did not remember at all. The Dos Manos goats from the 1980's are mine. Someone has picked up the name, so all the ones in the 2000's are not.

I was lucky to be a member of a very active Northern Colorado Dairy Goat club and to have Dr Joan Bowen as my veterinarian, small ruminant mentor and friend. I loved showing my Alpines. I have pictures of my son (now almost 30-years-old) in diapers in the show pen with the kids - the four-legged kids. Another family picture that I am fond of shows my two children, bundled up in blue parkas on hay bales, surrounded by goats. Goats were a big part of their life, we have many family goat stories.

Then we moved to southern Colorado for work. As my kids grew older and we got more involved in homeschooling, the show side of my goat world slipped away. I still kept milk goats, but I stopped registering them and showing them. My focus moved to raising children. The goats provided us with good milk to drink, make cheese, raise bottle baby calves and lambs and make soap with.

I kept goats. They became a mixture of breeds with different colors, different ear styles and different personalities. I kept the ones that had good tasting milk, were easy to milk and that didn't create trouble. When Shawn and I joined households, we scrambled our names and came up with Laffing Horse for our farm name. The first dairy goat we bought together was Victoria, a lovely Lamancha doe. We decided Lamancha's were our breed. We went to Northern Colorado to get South Fork King Arthur, a beautiful black Lamancha buck kid. But, my focus was still elsewhere. While I loved, milked and kept my goats, I didn't feel the call of the purebred registry, or of the show ring.

Our Lamanchas continue to be lovely goats. My two current girls, Henna and Harley have cute little Lamancha gopher ears, though they are 1/4 Saanen. I love the Manchi's disposition, milk quality and ease of care, but, we've found that is challenging to sell good milk goats that don't have ears. We've started called the price difference between goats with ears and those without the "ear tax." I've started looking back at other breeds. I'm tired of what the "ear tax" costs.

After selling the herd down last year due to the drought, I thought I might just be able to keep a few milkers for the family, but I'm finding that two milkers is too few for my comfort. So, tomorrow, we are headed to Pine Bluff Arkansas to look at some really top quality Alpine dairy goats. I feel like I've come full circle, back to my goat start. I'll let you know what we find.

Bugs and other scheduling matters

Last night, after locking the chickens up, I turned our new batch of "bugs" loose.
We've been using fly predators from Spalding Labs since moving to here Havencroft Farm. These little tiny bugs arrive in the mail and begin to hatch out inside their bag in the house.

We use both the jar fly traps like the one on the left and sticky traps like the one on the right. The jar type seem to work  best for us. Kitty likes to supervise chores from her comfortable perch atop the sheep shelter. This double hoop shelter has worked really well for us.

When they are really hatching well, we sprinkle them around the shelters and sleeping places of the sheep, goats, horse, llama and by the milk barn. You can look at the web site, if you are interested in the mechanics, but, they keep flies from hatching. We also use fly traps to entice and catch the flies that do hatch. With these controls, we seem to have fewer flies on our concentrated 5 acres than we do at work, where we haven't had any livestock in a year.
I order all the bugs for the year at the rate the company recommends and they arrive in the mail when they are needed. I don't have to think about it.
I wish I had such a system for other regular pest controls on the farm. Like dusting the angora goats. When we use diatomaceous earth to control goat lice on a regular basis, it works. Get off schedule and it doesn't. We also have flea controls for the indoor cats and dogs (which don't work as well as I'd like, anybody have any suggestions?) that have to be on a regular schedule to work. And the little dog's baths for her allergies and the new kitten's vaccinations and... I need a separate date book just for the critters. I used to keep a barn book, with everything that happened on the farm that day, weather, critters, garden and life happenings. I seem to have lost that organization. I still value chronicling, I just seem to have lost the focus.
I think I'll go weave and think about how I can become obsessive about recording life.

Meditations on rebuilding

I like to listen to audio books while I weave. I used to have shelves of them on tape, then on cd. Now they are all on my iphone. I hate headphones, so my family is used to having to listen to bits and pieces of my stories as they go by or in and out of my studio. This morning I just finished listening to Herman Wouk's Winds of War while working on the gray multi-texture shawl on my triloom.

The story ends with the beginnings of the salvage of Pearl Harbor and the bombed out battle ships. As protagonist Pug Henry deals with family issues, he also has to decide what to do with his career, as the battleship he was supposed to arrive in Pearl to command now lies on the bottom of the harbor. The story gives estimates of dry dock and rebuild times on the ships that can be salvaged and estimates of the current force and when new ships will be ready to go to war.

That whole discussion parallels what I hear my family going through in the decisions they are having to make after loosing their home in the Black Forest fire. They have a lot of work to do and decisions to make. They are still in the clean up and salvage phase. Today they are headed back out to the property with a crew to pull out the big metal, so they can sift the ashes. They are trying to list contents and deal with insurance issues on the days they aren't working. There is so little I can do to help from this far away, so for now, I just try to keep in touch, offer to help where I can (like by doing internet searches for antique values) and let them know I love them and am thinking of them.

I'm starting to search for quality Alpine dairy goats with an eye toward rebuilding the milking herd. We'll need a few more milkers when my folks move here to Mountain View. We are hauling hay in the evenings. So far, the crop looks good this year and we will have all the different qualities of hay we need. The garden continues to grow and produce yummy, healthy food. The weather this year has really been perfect, all the seasons coming when they are supposed to and being text book winter, spring and summer. And life goes on.

Black Forest fire

My parents bought this land in Black Forest Colorado in 1974, in part to appease a teenage girl who was bereft at having to leave the Colorado she loved for the unknowns of life in Korea. In part, this land brought me back to Colorado in 1979, giving up a full scholarship to Auburn to go to Colorado State University.

Land in Colorado heals slowly. The trees in this forest will not return in my lifetime.

509 people homes burned, and countless other buildings. But some of the animals survived. There is a little bunny now living under the rubble of the garage doors. My family puts food and water down for him.

The Colorado of the 1970's is hard to find today. I left in 2006. Water is in increasingly, severely limited supply; housing developments and highways blanket the front range from Cheyenne to Pueblo. Traffic sounds have replaced the sound of wind through the tall grass prairie.

Since leaving Colorado, I have come back for family and friends, but I no longer feel any connection to the land. My heart is now in the Ozarks, with our forested plateaus and deep, rugged valleys. I love the Ozark rivers and lakes and people and life.

I'm headed home to the Ozarks today, still worried about my parents and brother and sister-in-law. They are in safe places and sorting through. There is still so much work to be done on the property, hard, physical work. And then, it's going to take a good bit of time to deal with the insurance, and the sifiting and the minutiae of life that has to be put back together now. Please keep them all in your thoughts and prayers. And thanks to everybody who has helped so far.

Words just don't express...

Iris coming back up through the cracked and melted glass that was my parent's bedroom window.

Rubble

What's your favorite possession in the whole world? Do you know where it is?

If you know what it is, but not where it is, I suggest you find it and get a safe deposit box to store it in. It's obviously something that you love, but don't need to touch every day.

If you don't know what it is, take some time to figure it out. Then you can decide whether to put it somewhere safe - or to leave it out or put it out in display, so that if you have 10 minutes to leave your life as you know it, you at least have a chance of grabbing your favorite thing.

Free advice, take it for what it's worth.

It was a brass tea pot. The stucco beam behind was a porch support. Stucco is supposed to be fire-retardant. The insurance adjuster said it took a fire of at least 7,000 degrees to melt the I-beam in the background.

Leaded glass that used to be a bowl and green marble counter tops, now white crumbly chunks. The trees were that far from the house.

Burned pine trees.

My dad and my brother consider a portion of the basement, and what might have been on the floors above the hole. How did things shift as the house came down?

Sifting in hopes of finding... something.

Carrying rubble out of the cleared areas of the basement in hope.

 Fire mitigation was done, see how far apart those trees are. In this firestorm, it didn't help. Structure survival was all luck of the draw. 509 homes lost, and countless garges, barns and other structures. Yes, we are thankful to the firefighters, or far more would have been lost.

A Hummel, a David Winter Cottage and a leaded glass crystal collection after a 7,000 degree plus fire.

Paradigms shift after disaster

So many little impressions flitter through this week after the fire that took my parents and brother and sister-in-law's house, as well as 508 other houses and uncounted outbuildings, barns and garages in the Colorado town of Black Forest.
My folks are holding up well, and so many people have been incredibly generous.
It is a huge, shocking total life change and that is showing in little and big ways.
I grew up in a family that loved to collect things. Beautiful, fascinating things from around the world.

A fascinating collection of meters at my brother Russ' house.

 My brother Russ (the one who still has his house) has several delightful collections displayed around his living room. Interesting things that are curiosities in themselves, but as a collection they draw interest. He inherited the collecting gene and the ability to do cool displays gene. That's a good combination.

My parents house was like that, with fascinating little collections in every corner. They were artfully displayed and kept clean and dusted. (There are some genes I failed to inherit). Now they are all gone. My dad says he doesn't want a lot of stuff to have to deal with anymore. Understandable.

The Quilt Room was the center of their house, and Quilt Guilds and Quilting Bees were the center of their social life. The loss there is too painful to even list. My dad says he's not sure if he wants to do fiber arts any longer.

Yesterday when we went clothes shopping for my folks, my dad bought a pair of sandals. He's never worn sandals before. He says they feel ok.

My mother has done laundry on Monday all her life. Her mother did laundry on Monday. That is the day you wash clothes. Today, I convinced her that it really was possible to do laundry on Sunday. And we did, though there weren't many clothes to wash.

As my dad said today, the memories didn't burn. The collections and pictures and other memory anchors did go up in the fire., but the memories and treasured relationships are still here.

Quiet day of thankfulness

Yesterday was a day of grocery and clothes and shoe shopping for my folks - and finding the important stores in Lakewood, Colorado. My i-phone was a great help in locating routes and the stores that my mom had coupons for. My dad said he'd miss me when I go home, but he'll miss my "silly little box", too. Over the last two years I've really come to appreciate my hand computer/i-phone.

My dad cooking breakfast in the kitchen in Hildy's house. The windows look out on the sun room.

Today is a day to rest and regroup before we go back to the property to sift ashes tomorrow. There are things we still hold out hope of finding...

This house that my friend Julia and her family (their mother Hildly's house) have loaned my folks is a treasure in itself. Surrounded by trees and gardens, it is full of books and comfy chairs. It has big windows and lots of light. It comes equipped with two cats, bird feeders and plants to water. It is a wonderful place for them to begin to recover.

The green house in Hildy''s house

I'm going to try to catch up on a little of the work I brought with me, while my dad tries to put together their list of  doctor's phone numbers, other business information and all the minutia of life that we tend to store in our house and not think about. My folks were just discussing whether or not they had cancelled their milk delivery. How wonderful it had been to live in a place where they still had milk delivered. I said it would be pretty obvious to the milk man if he tried to deliver milk that there wasn't a house there any more. Most conversations end up being bittersweet like that.

Thanks again to everyone.

Looking out the sun room windows in Hildy's house at the bird feeders.

Emotional exhaustion

Long day. Emotionally exhausting. Everybody is ok, but tired.

My mom Judy, brother Russ, dad Dick, me, and brother Scott after dinner last night. Can you believe I am the short one in the family? Can you believe we all smiled for this picture? Conditioning.

We went out to their property again today. Hard to call it anything else at this point. We put a few things in the big shop... a chain saw that might work again and the handle is only a little melted; sheets of copper that used to be planters; the tools we had just picked up. My parents had a beautiful tile mosaic in their entry hall. I went up to the pillars to see if maybe the tiles could be salvaged. Behind the pillars is a huge pit.

Porch pillars. Stucco houses are supposed to be fire resistant.

As I came by the garage space, I saw rivulets of shiny aluminum. I'm sure it used to be their canoe.
We found some saw horses, blackened through, but still standing. Some heavy guttering was near the scoched hulk of the tractor. On our way out, we used these to make a bit of a barricade across the driveway. Black Forest roads re-open to the public tomorrow. Sadly, looters are an issue.

Next we went to the Post Office to try to pick up their mail. I held my mom's place in line, while she found a bench to sit on. For about an hour, I listened to a line of folks who had all lost their homes, lost everything. A women just a bit of me in line talked of how her parents had built their home in Black Forest 64 years ago. She herself raised her daughter in a cabin down the road from their house. Her brothers lived along the road in houses they had built. All the houses are gone. She's not sure what she's going to do. As she and my mother exchanged news of mutual friends, they discussed where they might go from here. My mom mentioned that they were considering moving to Arkansas. Her friend was very intrigued. Perhaps she will come visit us in Mountain View.

It took two hours to get from the Post Office in Colorado Springs to my dear friend Julia's mom's house in Denver. My dad drove through horrendous traffic. The house is wonderful, comfortable and she has it all set up for my folks. After quick hugs and inadequate thank yous, as well as a quick lesson on how to give the resident cats their medicine, collapsed into the living room chairs.

Julia's mom's house. Thank you so much for loaning this wonderful place to my parents while they rest and regroup.

My parents are eating well. They've been having breakfast at the hotel. Today we stopped at R&R Cafe for lunch after picking up shovels and more gloves, air masks, water, a shovel and a rake at the disaster relief center. Some wonderful anonymous person bought our lunch. My dad and I had whole wheat, grilled vegi sandwiches and my mom had a quesadilla. All great food. Tonight we dug through what they had in the bags and cooler. My dad and I made salmon tomato sandwiches. Weird, but good. We are all tired.

Smoke from the Wolf Creek Pass and other fires shroud the mountains and turn the sun bright red.

As my dad was headed to bed, he put his hand on the fireplace mantle in Julia's mom's sun room. "I had one like this," he said, looking so tired. "It was a little wider and a bit longer. Solid black walnut. It was in the basment."

Good night.

Pictures

My brother and I had a wonderful long talk tonight and he expressed what he is feeling wonderfully. We grew up in a military family.
Other people have PLACES where their memories are.
I can't answer the question, "Where are you from?" I usually just say, "I'm an Army brat."
Other people grew up some place, in a community or two and they can go back to those places and see those people.  We grew up around the world, the people we can go back to see are my parents, my brothers and me - and all our memories of childhood and the wonderful exotic lands we lived in were in the wonderful things that were in this house.
The people all survived - and that is what's important, and for that I am so thankful - but it doesn't mean there's not a lot to grieve.

The pillars of the front porch on the right, the railing that went up the back porch steps on the bottom left. What is left of a beautiful three story, high ceiling house full of light and beauty.

My dad, greenhouse and garden

It was a stump of a pine tree

The front of the car shop

Where the fire almost came through

The Triumph, and other less famous cars.

The 'Vette

The reverse 911 call came at 4:00 p.m. - the electric clock on the wall of the shop stopped at 4:48...one of the scariest things I saw all afternoon. I'm pretty sure that's when the fire hit the power pole behind this building. And I am more thankful than ever that my family got out.

The fire almost came through the fire-proof isulation

the outside of the car shop

Looking through the "forest" to the front porch pillars

Thanks to everybody who has chipped in so that I can be here with my family. It is good to be here, not that there is much I can do, I still think I am helping just by being here. Thanks for all your prayers and well wishes, they really help, too. Keep them coming. I'll write more better words later, for now, goodnight all.

Leaving, on a jet plane

I'm headed out this morning, first to Little Rock to catch a flight to Denver and from there, to where ever I'm needed. I wish the situation was different. Oh, how I wish that. But I am thankful I can go.

I so love my daylilies, Thanks Charles and Linda!

I am so incredibly thankful to everyone who came together to help so that I could go be there for my family in the aftermath of the Black Forest Fire. I promised I would blog to let everyone who has put their hearts out there for my family know what was happening. It's the least I can do for all of you who care so deeply and have shared so much.

The last few days have been busy with preparation to go to Colorado. That included a lot of paperwork at work and delegating a lot of tasks to a lot of already busy people. The Ozark Folk Center is such an incredible place to call home!

I had a commitment this past weekend with Tina Marie and Tango to demonstrate at the 40th Anniversary Celebration at Blanchard Springs Caverns. Of course, the donkey stole the whole show. He was a gentleman throughout the afternoon, even when you couldn't see the donkey through all the children.

Helping Tina and Tango promote the Ozark Folk Center.

Part of the prep for being away included giving Pequena her summertime saddle haircut

And then there were farm chores to catch up on. Even in times of disaster and heartache, life continues. I got the last of the garden planted. Okra now rounds out the year's plantings. It's a funny mix this year, should make for some interesting meals this fall and winter.

I gave Pequena her summertime saddle haircut. She orgled and gurgled and spit the whole time, but stood still so we made it a short ordeal. She's 8-years-old now, she ought to be getting used to this process. She so loves to be able to really scratch her back now.

Of course, Lena and Shawn will take great care of everything on the farm while I'm gone. Everybody at work will make sure all the details are taken care of there. It's all covered, so I can go try to help my family. Thank you all so much.

Packing this morning has been a challenge. I want to take what I'll need, so I am not a burden on an over-burdened system. Boots, jeans, heavy gloves... I want to take things for my parents. My Aunt Jeannie and I keep talking on the phone about things we see in our house that we want to send to them. When I washed the fry pan last night, I wanted to take them my extra set of cast iron pans. Jeannie keeps finding family treasures that she wants to send - and blankets and towels. All silly things to think of at this stage. What good is a cast iron pan to someone who no longer has a stove. The thoughts are all so confusing. I'm hoping it will be easier when I am out there. Then I can see what we really can do to help.

Nilly is positively fat in the new cut hay field. I think she's looking so good because of all the hugs Bettie sends her from North Dakota! Energy from afar really does help.

Those of you at OFC who read this, please share it with everyone who doesn't. I know so many of you wish you could be going to physically help all the folks in Colorado. Keep sending your thoughts, energy and prayers. It all helps. And I promise I will let you know if there is anything else you can do.

My family is safe and that's what matters

It's official, My parents and brother and sister-in-law's home is totally gone. But they are all safe. That is what is important. Treasures can be re-hunted,  new works of art can be quilted, carved, stitched, woven and painted; necessities can be bought. Houses can be built or bought and with time, turned into homes. People are unique, precious and irreplaceable.

My family is safe and I am so thankful.

Family is what's important. And they are all safe. Picture taken this past Christmas at my folks house.

 

I am very thankful to the El Paso County sheriff's deputies and other law enforcement folks who braved the fire to assess the damaged areas. There is a relief in knowing. Now those who know can move on to the details of insurance, new housing, clothing and transportation.

 Many of our dear friends and family-of-the-heart have offered help from transportation to fully furnished house complete with kitty cats. Thank you all for taking care of my folks (and me!).

I am flying out there next week. By then, maybe I can help in some way. This morning they announced that under current conditions, they think they'll have the fire under control by June 20.

My dad said, "A hug would be nice, but there's nothing you can do. Don't come out."

Sorry Daddy, I need a hug. See you Wednesday.

My parents got the trailer and Suburban out. The corner of their house shows on the right of the photo. This picture was taken before they went to Alaska in 2007.

 

My brothers and me in front of Scott's "car house." While the status of an outbuildings is still unknown, there is little hope for this structure and the 12 cars inside.

Summer arrives

First off, thanks to everyone for their thoughts and energy and hugs and prayers. My folks, friends and brothers still don't know anything about their homes in the Black Forest fire. The fire  is still not contained and is spreading fast. I'll be headed out there, as soon as there is something I can do to help. Right now, part of the problem is that there are too many people in the way of moving equipment and fighting the fire.

The sheep flock getting ready to bed down in the shade
of the cedars during the heat of the day.

Here in the Ozarks, summer arrived this week. We've had an absolutely perfect spring and the hay fields are high, the flowers are beautiful and the trees are soaking up the frequent rains. This week, the switch flipped from moderate spring temperatures in the 70's during the day and 50's at night to 90's in the day and 70's at might. It's summer. Perfect hay drying and fruit ripening weather.

All the animals spend the middle of the day in the woods,
including the chickens. I wonder if it's even cooler up there?

The critters are adjusting to the summer temps. Havencroft Farm is on the side of a ridge. Our front pasture/yard is flat. It stairsteps a bit up to the house, then up to the animal paddocks. At the top of all their little pastures is what we call the "berm". It's a treed area about 20 feet higher than the front of the paddocks.   It is consistently 20 degrees cooler on the berm than it is in the front pasture.

So, after everybody eats their breakfast in the early morning, they retire to the berm to nap during the heat of the day. This is the time of year that the sheep switch to doing most of their grazing from evening through morning. Then they rest in the trees during the heat of the day. All of the animals gather up there on the berm. The horse stands and the sheep, goats and llama lay down. The chickens gather in the trees.

Sometime after about 3:00 in the afternoon, they all head out to pasture again, to get a drink and go back to the important business of grazing.

Take time to enjoy the people in your life, too

I know this blog is about sheep and gardens and the sunny side of life. That really is how I view life. But today, I just have to be a little more serious. I was at a goodbye potluck for our park superintendent when I got a call from my brother. I have two brothers. I love them both dearly and ever time we get together, we are amazed at how much we enjoy each other's company. But we only get together about once every two years, and we don't talk on the phone too much more often.

The kitchen is the heart of their home.

I could tell from his voice something was wrong and so I stepped outside to talk. He told me about the fire that had started a few hours before near my parents house in Black Forest, Colorado. This is my parents dream house. They bought the land in 1974 and had saved and planned and worked on it for years. Finally, in 2001, they began building. Eventually what they built was big and tall, full of light from the windows that bracketed a glorious view of Pikes Peak. The light natural wood interior showcased their collections of treasures and memories from a lifetime of travel around the world. The house is really huge and as they developed it, it became a home for both my parents and my brother and sister-in-law.

My youngest brother had not been able to reach my parents. While he and I spoke, he got a call from my other brother. He and my sister-in-law had gotten out, with their cats and were at my brother's office. They were going to go stay with friends. They said mother and daddy had gotten out too, and were headed to the evacuation center.

Just two days ago, in our usual Sunday phone conversation, my mom had told me about further fire mitigation that my dad was doing. Every year, they've cut down pine trees and cleared the property. They've hauled probably hundreds of pines off the property, some of them beetle killed and some of them to thin it out for the health of the trees. The whole property still is beautifully wooded pine forest. My dad had cut down all the smaller pine trees within 30 feet of the house and loaded them on the trailer. He was waiting for my brother's help to take down the larger trees inside that 30-foot recommended perimeter.

Shawn and I came home and went right to our computers. What we found on the Black Forest fire was terrifying. The video in that link made me realize that my dear friends Kris and Val had likely lost the Table Rock Llamas store, one of the most wonderful fibery places on the planet. Their store is less than 500 yards from where the video shows and about a mile from my parents house. 

The whole scenario was somewhat deja vu. About this time last year, we had fretted while Shawn's daughter and her family were evacuated during the Waldo Canyon fire. This branch of our family just moved to Greensboro, NC, last week.

Shawn finally got through to my parents on their cell phone. They were at the evacuation center.

Sit and visit - and laugh

My dad said everyone there was being very helpful, making sure they had their medicines and any food they needed. I was very relieved to hear they were being taken care of. I called my brother back and told him in the course of our conversation that I wished they would all leave fire-ravaged Colorado. Having to go through the stress of worrying about family every fire season was getting tiring. He retorted with a very valid comment about watching the weather radar every time there are tornadoes reported in Arkansas and wondering if my family and I were under the dark purple areas, or just in the bright orangy red areas. And then for good measure, he reminded me that Shawn's daughter and her family had just gone through their first hurricane warning in their new home. Life is not safe, we agreed.

Life is not safe. Your family and friends are more valuable than any treasures. Take the time to spend time with them. Nourish those relationships and maintain those connections. Life is not safe no matter where you are.

Please send prayers, thoughts and energy to all the folks in Colorado right now dealing with the devastating wildfires.

I am a Sunday gardener

My favorite garden companion, Kitty. My second favorite
garden tool, a mattock.

I am a Sunday gardener. Because of my work schedule, I do very little in the garden on weekdays. Caring for the critters bookends my everyday, with milking and feeding every morning and evening. Sunday is the day that I water and mulch and weed and plant. I do find some time to do some harvesting in the garden in the evenings. Fresh vegis and goat cheese make an incredible dinner.

Sunday is a good day to spend focusing on the divine aspects of this world, too. And what better place to do that than in the garden. I noticed this afternoon that my brain plays songs like "Angel Band" and "I went down to the river to pray" and "Dancing on the Sacred Path" as I dig and pull and make order among the weeds.

Three sisters - corn, beans, pumpkins

Today,with Kitty's help, I made and planted a Three Sisters garden. Corn and pole beans and pumpkins are supposed to grow well together, support each other and it is an interesting story. We'll see how it works out. I planted three rows,about 20 feet each. It's a little late, but I'm a Sunday gardener.

One of the messages for the day seemed to be that we didn't need to be using power equipment. I got my tiller fixed earlier this year, with Josh's help, and Shawn fixed my mower for me for my birthday. It really was what I wanted. So, this morning Lena was out cutting hay in the front yard/pasture and I was running the tiller in the Three Sisters garden when the tiller threw a belt and the mower threw a rod.

After running into our little town and discovering that several people could order the belt for me, I decided to come back home and dig the garden by hand. With our turf, that takes a mattock, (my second favorite gardening tool after a dibbler.)

Had the Three Sister's garden planted
but not quite mulched when the rain came.

I staked out the rows and chopped sod, throwing the root clods on the hugelkultur pile (yep, it's still a work in process). Then I smoothed the dirt, used the dibbler to poke my holes at precise depth and distance and planted the corn, pole beans and pumpkins using the mantra "One for the coon, one for the crow, one for the worms and one to grow." I may have planted a little too light...

It was clouding up as I started mulching the rows with fresh straw. I had just put down about half a bale when the sky opened up and blessed my little Three Sisters garden with a wonderful soaking rain.

I love being a Sunday gardener.

My Three Sisters garden was blessed by a
beautiful afternoon rain.