A day of spinning wheels, chickens, baby goats and friends

We had our SCAT meeting at a home in the "up country" foothills yesterday. I drove myself and three friends up above Mace Meadows on highway 88 to a place called Sherwood Forest. It's a subdivision that makes you wonder if you're ever going to find the right road or the right house. It goes on forever. Then, just when you think you've gone too far and that the road is never going to end, you get to a beautiful home, with beautiful gardens...

and lovely flowers... and artichokes growing on long stems...

and clothes drying an a line in the sun...

and chickens going every which way...

We were here for our once a month art meeting, but we had also been invited to lunch.
This is "J's" house and we came to have some homemade squash soup and learn to use a spinning wheel.
The living room was filled with spinning wheels, carders, fleece and yarn. This was going to be such fun.

We (four woman and one chicken) arrived on one of those iconic days that California is famous for....blue sky, big fluffy clouds, a little breeze and ... wait, did I say we arrived with a chicken? Yes, I did. This is the kind of world I live in. You pick someone up and they say... "You don't mind, do you, if I bring my chicken with me?" and, of course, I say, "No problem." So, she hops into the car with her little chicken carrier and a little baby Sizzle in it. What's a Sizzle, you ask?
This is a baby Sizzle..

.The Sizzle Chicken is a cross between a Silky and a Frizzled Cochin. Frizzles are the divas of the chicken world. The term frizzle refers to a gene that produces funky feathering. Any breed can be bred to created frizzled chickens.
This little chicken was tired when we got to "J's " house and was a little bit frazzled, so her momma wrapped her little baby in the sweatshirt she was wearing and little Sizzle hunkered down and settled in for the visit.

Then she ate and took a nap, like all good little babies.

We walked out back to the goat fort...

Where we met the new baby goats, Lily and Lulu.

"J" showed us how they have learned to bow for a cracker...

and bring her their food dish...

And look as cute...

as cute...

can be. You will have to give me a moment here... you know how I miss my goats.


We had a great lunch and some dessert... then settled in for a lesson in spinning.

I have to say that this is a lot harder than it looks. I have decided that I'm hand/eye/ foot challenged. This take a certain brain alliance and coordination that my body wasn't getting. I was encouraged with "It takes practice." and "You'll get it." ... to "Oops, the wheel is going the wrong direction again." and "You don't have to hold the wool so tight."
First we all picked out some wool roving and some pretty sparkly stuff and ran it through a carder. Roving is a long and narrow bundle of wool fiber that's made from wool fleece, which is fiber that is clipped from an animal. A drum carder is a contraption that blends, cleans and aligns the individual fibers with each other in preparation for spinning. This part was fun. We added different colors and little bits of thread and silk. One of us turned the crank and we ended up with beautiful roving that was ready to make into yarn.
Then the spinning began. "J" demonstrated and I, foolishly, offered to be first. Some of us were better at this than others. I think some of us had done this before... but not I. This seemed like a truly foreign and awkward task. I think that I will not be buying a spinning wheel. I think that I will probably be buying another lens for my camera. Cest la vie.
This is a sample of the yarn that we all wove.

If anyone laughs, I will haunt you forever. It's too skinny in places, too fat in others, too twisted and can only be used for unique knitting situations. I think I will call it designer yarn if anyone asks.

 I don't know how to get the twists out of it so they are going to stay that way.

I pulled on "the yarn" and when I let go, it snapped back into tight little twists again.

 I may be able to use this yarn as a bungee cord...just put some hooks on the ends of it and there you go... pretty and practical.
This was a day of humble admission of my limits as a diverse artist. I can use a sewing machine, knit, crochet, felt, collage, paint, create ornaments out of eggs and gourds and photograph anything... but that spinning wheel brought me to my knees. I finally handed over the reins to the Sizzle chicken's mom. She seems to have a better understanding of this roving to yarn process.
In my defense, I didn't give up. I went over to another wheel that had only one small foot pedal and did some plying (putting two yarns together). This was easier and the wheel, that I was suppose to turn in a clockwise direction (on the first wheel), had to go counter clockwise for plying... so I was finally going in the "right" direction on this one. That's a confusing sentence but I know what I'm talking about and it doesn't make any difference anyway, because that other wheel will never see me struggle again. I don't think it liked me. I think there might have been something strange going on. Maybe something magic.
Yeah... that's it.
 I read Rumplestiltskin.
 I know about these things.





 

Brownie and the Black Feather

On my walk the other night I went through the back gate. Annie was up on the fence, as I went by. She has  a badly scratched up nose. She has had this sore nose for a week now.

  It's healing but it still looks kind of sore. She won't let me touch it. I think it's getting better on its own.

"Wanna come with me Annie?" She looked mighty comfortable and didn't move, so I left her and continued up the road.

As I walked past the "other woman" I sensed a feeling of unrest.

And I thought I heard a small grumble coming from her hood vent.

I'm really sorry that she has to stay outside now (Really, I am.) but until we build another garage, this is the best we can do. I don't think she's happy about it.

I walked on up the hill to the well and choose the low road to the orchard...

 The road, on the left, goes to the top of the hill where I love to walk. (This was our escape route during the fire last summer.) The road on the right goes down  to the old orchard, (what's left of it) and to our septic leach system... and to the other knoll where all the Manzanitas grow. It's a much shorter walk.
 I always take the lower road in the summer because there is less dry grass. Even though the weather is nice and cool this week, I never walk in the tall grass until late fall when I know that there's less chance of a Rattler lurking in the weeds.
The sky was so beautiful.

The hills to the east, toward the Sierras, were laughing in the overcast, coolness of the day.

I said hello to Maggie who is buried up on the hill near the road. She was our last big dog, a beautiful shepherd mix, before we got the two little Corgis. Actually, Carl, our first corgi, came to live with us while Maggie was still alive.  
When she died, The Prospector buried her up here and asked me to make a sign for the site.

  That was almost four years ago. She was a wild little puppy when we first got her and I always feel like her spirit is bounding around with me up there. I don't walk up to the grave this time of the year (the grass is too long) but I always say something to her. She was a good dog.
I turned around and started back.. When I got about two thirds of the way back to the house, I saw something long and black on the side of the trail. My heart started beating a little faster, but I was quite a distance from it and well... rattlers aren't usually that dark. I just couldn't see it clearly.
I walked down, slowly, and  realized it was a feather, a huge black feather...

 underneath the utility pole. It was a turkey vulture wing feather sitting there moving a little in the wind. It wasn't in the deep grass, so I picked it up. It was huge.  The vultures like to sit up on the top of the pole a lot so I guess one of them dropped this feather. We have found them here before.

I walked down toward the house and the blond hussy (the 38' Chevy). This time she didn't say anything. I think she should be happy that we, at least, cover her. After all, she is going to get a complete overhaul one of these days (money, money, money...) and I can't even get the Prospector to pay for my orthopedic inserts.
Oh, I'm sorry. Now, I'm the one that's venting.

When I got down to the back gate, Annie was still up on her perch. I took the feather and teased her with it.

She humored me for a few minutes and then...

Lost interest.

I went by the goat yard and Brownie gave me a  muted "Hello.", so I walked over to the fence, reached over with the feather and tickled his nose.

That's when he made this face. Hilarious! 

 I pulled the feather away and started to leave... 

So he gave me his cute goat look.

 "Why did you stop?"

 "Farmlady. Please keep doing that."

 And he made that silly toothy smile again...

 What a ham!

So I played "feather" with him for a while

And he got downright silly about it. He tried to eat the feather. We had a great time. He loved all the attention.
This morning I took an old brush out there and gave Brownie a back rub. (Yes, I'm spoiling him.) His hair is growing back and he's looking pretty darn good. He's still too skinny, but he is gaining weight and his body looks so much better. He seems to be thriving in his "last goat standing" status. I was always told that Nubians didn't like to be alone. That they need other goats. Well, this guy is just fine. He's a character. That's for sure.
 I dearly miss Murphy, but Brownie is our survivor... par excellence. He is playing this solitary life for all its worth. He's still our outspoken, show pony. I'm sure there will be more stories to tell.

"Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety" ~ Shakespeare~

 Yesterday, I got up early, drank my coffee and downed some Cheerios. I chose a pair of rubber gloves and a long sleeved shirt, and walked down to the vegetable garden... ready for the job at hand.

There, as the morning light filtered through the oak trees and into the garden, was my nemesis... The Stinging Nettle of Shakespearean proportions.
I carefully started pulling the plant out by its roots.

Then I heard the muffled steps of the goats behind me. Brownie and Murph' had come to see what I was doing, which translates to "What do you have for us to eat?"

 "Hi Farmlady."

Hi, Murphy. How are you this morning?" I took a glove off, walked over to the fence and gave my wonderful goat a head rub.
In return, he gave me a goat kiss. That's my hat at the top of the picture.

There is nothing like a goat kiss in the morning.
Then I gave him a back rub. He loves to have his spine rubbed.

Brownie couldn't be bothered with all of this. He was chomping on all the wonderful grass and wildflowers in the pasture.
I threw a handful of nettle over the fence to them. They both ran toward it and then... turned their noses up at it.
They like the sweet grass with flowers. They love Lupine and the Dandelions. I guess even goats are particular if they have a choice.
I decided that I better stop playing around with the goats and get to the task at hand. It was going to be a hot day, again, and I was wasting the cool morning away with goat play.
 Within a half hour, I had cleared the whole bed. It didn't take long. The soil was soft and the nettle came out easily.

After pulling the long pieces out, I raked the surface and got all the left over roots and dead mullein out of the soil. We will add more soil to the bed before I plant the pumpkins. Then we will use Preen and mulch to keep the weeds down.
The Prospector came into the garden with the ladder and un-stapled some of the wire so that it would be easier to get into the pumpkins for watering and weeding etc. I left one section just in case I decide to plant some beans.
Of course, Murph' had to check this out too.

Can you believe that goat reached through the fence this far? It's the reason why we keep the beds away from the fence. This is why we double fence in some areas. He is amazing... and he never gets his ears stuck.
My magical goat is a force to be reckoned with.
 Brownie, on the other hand, gets stuck every time. It's the horn. The only long horn that he has now. If he tries to pull a maneuver like Murphy, we have to go out and help him get unstuck. We have even had to cut the fence to get him untangled... and he cries like a baby. Oh, Brownie boy, it's a good thing that you live with folks that love you and understand you. 
Some goats just need more attention than others. Brownie is one of the needy ones in this life... but, we love him. He is ours, horn or no horn, needy or not.
Before it got too hot I did some pruning and planted the new gold trough that we won at auction. I will take some pictures of the finished planter next time... and of the beautiful Tiger Swallowtail butterfly that came into the front garden this morning. That's the butterfly on my new header. What a beauty.

The Nettle is gone. It's everywhere else in the garden but it's gone in one raised bed... for now.
 This site on Stinging Nettle says that we must have "highly fertile" soil because the Nettle does so well. Wonderful!! ( Can you hear the sarcasm?)
Lets hope that the pumpkins flourish as well as the weeds have.
My sister is coming in a few hours. I'm looking forward to her visit. Maybe we'll make some bread pudding while she's here. It's kind of a tradition.

Oh, and Happy Earth Day!

The Cal-Am Dairy Goat Show- Plymouth, CA.

This is a big part of what the goat show is about. Young children raising and showing animals. Learning how to lead a goat out into the arena and being proud of themselves and their animals.
The young ones played and watched ...

This is where kids learn to break in a pair of cowboy boots at an early age.

and where stepping in manure is a way of life.
The awards were waiting and the folks that record and call the different categories of the show checked  the paperwork, making sure that categories and breeds were in the right places.

Before the showing of the goats, the judges brought all the 4H kids out and showed them how to handle their goats. How to walk, lead, stand and show their goat to the best advantage. The judge was so good with them and some of the goats were very young and not use to being in a show. Some of the goats were not cooperating. The judge would take the goat and demonstrate how to calm the goat down and lead instead of being led. It was fun to watch him work with the kids.

You can see how many different goats there were. Each child had their own goat that they had raised. I loved this little tiny goat with hardly any ears. It was a very young, goat that looked kind of like a greyhound. It was one of the calm ones. I asked someone. They said it was a "cross", maybe between a La Mancha (very small ears) and a Nigerian dwarf but she wasn't sure. I don't think she was crossed with a Pygmy or a Dwarf because her legs were long.

 I wanted to bring her home with me.She was so sweet and a bit overwhelmed with everything.... but so beautiful.

So the judging began. Nubians have their own category. Brownie would have been proud. He would have been strutting his stuff..... only he's a "HE" and this is all about the ladies today. But he would have been cheering them on.
The show is basically about this..

Conformation, udders, teats, rib cage, legs and coat. It's a beauty pageant for does.No evening gowns or tiaras. Just goat perfection in the show ring.

The term DAIRY CHARACTER refers to the characteristics of a doe that give you reason to believe she will be a good milker. An average doe will give you about 1,800 pounds  or 900 quarts of milk per year.
These gals are the best of the best.

Their owners don't milk them before the show, so that they look full and wide. In a "doe" show, this is a good thing. Some goats looked uncomfortable out there. As soon as they are done, they head right for the "milking station" that is set up for them. I would imagine that they are quite relieved after they stop at the "station".

My friend, Jane, brought two goats to show. The one on the right above is a yearling and wasn't sure about all of this. When Jane left to show her other goat, this one put up such a commotion that she could be hear all over the fairgrounds. I went over and talked to her. I told her that Jane would be back soon. I stood there with her until Jane returned. She quieted down some but she was still upset. Poor little thing. She just didn't know what was going on and why her Jane and her goat companion were gone. As soon as they came back she was fine.

"I don't know why she got so upset. Jane and I had business to attend to. I may win a prize. She's such a baby."

Will you look at this! Only a Nubian would wear something so amazingly pretty. Of course, I'm partial to this breed but look at this handmade, quilted, goat  coat. Wow! Some goat owners stop at nothing for the love of their goats. There was a cold wind blowing through the arena area so a lot of the goats had covers on them but this one was special.. don't you think?

So the wagons lined up and waited, in hopes of winning Best In Show, the highest honor, and the biggest prize....

One for each ring. Our gourd group donated the gourds and I put the baskets together. They hold goat supplies from CAPRINE supply in Desoto, Kansas., little bottles of sparkling apple juice and a big ribbon  from the ADGA.

Look at these beautiful animals.... I think they know that this show is for them.

They are interesting, unique and fun loving animals. We all had a good time.
The President of the goat club and I set up the raffle.. Oh, excuse me... OPPORTUNITY DRAWING.  We had wonderful donations from local businesses.
All in all, it was a good show. These shows always teach me more about goat breeds and the folks who raise them. I learn more all the time. It's a great group of people. I'm proud to be a goat owner and be in the company of these people who love goats.