91热爆

My mom and my step-father in 2005, the summer before she died.

Dont' take life for granted. Never hold back from saying to someone, "I love you."

My 81 year old father-in-law is in the hospital with the possibility of needing surgery for an obstructed gut. He's not in the best of health to begin with so this has me worried. Sure, he could pull through just fine! But I was a medic for six years - I have a tendancy to be realistic.

I told my husband to call his father and tell him, "I love you." I told him that you never know what is going to happen when anyone of any age is put on the operating table.

He told me I was being melodramatic.

Perhaps. But I think I've earned the right to be melodramatic. I carried my best friend Chris's coffin to his dark cold grave after the fire truck flipped on the ice and he was killed. I spent many sleepless nights mourning Dale who had dropped dead from a heart attack several weeks after asking me to marry him. (I hadn't said yes yet but I needed some time. Yet time isn't always on our side!) I spent many sleepless nights in the bunkroom of the firehouse staring at my hands and wondering why I was so highly trained and yet so incapable of saving that person in the car or in the house or ... And I've heard far too often the wail of a loved one, "I never had a chance to say 'I love you!'"

A few days before mom died she was hallucinating. I was sitting next to her on the sofa and "playing along." We were back in time in that two-story apartment we lived in before I left home. Over the course of the evening I must have said, "I love you, Mom" about 100 times. Each time she said, "I love you too, Shell." She was so far into her hallucinations that she never picked up on the fact that I was repeating myself every ten seconds. I said "I love you" to my mother until I could say it no more. I soaked in her every reply, "I love you too, Shell." I exhausted myself with "I love you, Mom" until I felt as if I could live the rest of my life and have enough, "I love you too, Shell" stored up in my heart to see me through.

A few days later she drew her last breath with me by her side. We were sitting eye-to-eye so that she would know she was not alone. I had heard the death rattle that morning and knew she was leaving. She couldn't speak any more but I could hear her voice ringing in my heart, "I love you too, Shell." As she took her last breath I heard her voice again and again, "I love you too, Shell." My step-father and I crowded close to her and shouted out as she died, "I LOVE YOU!! I LOVE YOU!! I LOVE YOU!!"

Mom wanted to be creamated so we did as she wished. But we couldn't afford any kind of urn. We had to burry her in a cheap cardboard box with her name scrawled across a paper lable in messy handwrighting, "Kathy McCoy." I was so angry that this beautiful woman, my mother, had to be burried in a flimsy cardboard box on a cold November day. But she had her wish: we burried her with her own mother who had died back in 1989. Mom lost her mother at the same age that I lost mine. We were both 30 years old when our mothers went away.

How ironic.

After we placed "mom" in that cold gaping hole I lay my favorite rosary across the lid of that horrid box and I whispered, "I love you, Mom."

In the echo of the wind I embraced her reply, "I love you too, Shell."

Don't ever take life for granted. Don't ever miss a single chance to say, "I love you."

Brodgar says, "Meow!!"

A row of daffodils along the side of the old stone tied byre. I wonder when they will bloom?? We have huge clumps of daffodils all over the farm! (And other mysterious flowers...)


The crocus are doing well! (What is the plural of crocus anyway? Croci?)

We are going to a lambing course in toon on the 8th. Elsie-yow is fit to burst: she's so fat with lambs that she can't get into any comfortable position. She's going to lamb several weeks ahead of the rest of the flock so we have her in a lambing pen with lots of extra water and also grain + sugar beet.


Sigurd and Swain - the twa caddie lambs Erlend bought me for Easter last year. They are MUCH bigger now. But I couldn't resist posting lamb pics!






The lambs got loose one day and came looking for me in the hoose!


King Tut loves to play with any living creature.








I couldn't resist tossing in a hedge hog photo! (It was in the same file as the lamb photos)

wE WOKE UP THIS....hMMMM MY HUSBAND HAS LEFT THE CAPS LOCK KEY ON AGAIN!

Ahem.

We woke up this morning and discovered that Prince Chan (our small Angus bull) and his harem had broken loose from the byre and were frolicking about in one of the fields. Good thing too because it would have been embarassing to get a call from neighbors!! He's a tame bull so we were able to lure everyone back into the byre with a bucket of barley.

Physiotherapy is going well - I hardly feel any pain now when the P. Therapist digs her fingers into my ankle. I'm still having pain with sitting down or laying down but by far I am doing WELL! I'm tooling around the yard and garden and I was even riding Erlend's push bike. It is covered in cattle feed dust and has a green cow lick box bolted onto the back rack so I can carry messages and things! Shnazzzzy! We can call it, "Farm Chic."

I was resting my ankle after today's PT visit and engaging my favorite lazy time activity: sitting in the livingroom reading Jane Austin books. Brodgar was sitting by my foot grooming away at her immaculate self. It has been a warm day and the sunlight was glinting off of her healthy black pelt. Suddenly **WOOSH!!** the fireplace burst into flames!! The two of us jumped about three feet in the air and fled from the room in terror.

It turns out Erlend had filled the fireplace with old milk cartons and newspapers but then he left it alone since the day was bright and warm. However, there were a few hot coals hanging out in there and they had been working away at the paper and cartons and the fire came to life just as me and my wee puss were relaxing!!

Earlier this morning while feeding the sheep I noticed that Magnus the ram and the two weather lambs (castrated male lambs) were bouncing around their small pen and looking miserable. So I ushered the flock outside into their exercise yard and then let the boys have the run of the place for a while. They bounced and bucked and jumped like mad until they collapsed, panting, into the straw. We are going to move them to an outdoor paddock as soon as possible. The yows are busy being hugely pregnant - but the boys are full of pent up energy!

Elsie-yow was watching all of this frolicking from her small lambing pen and I hit upon a good idea: I'd put the boys back in their pen, put the flock back inside their big pen and then let Elsie-yow go outside with the two weathers. (We have enough gates to pull this kind of livestock-shuffling off. Go Erlend!!)

So after a bit of relativly easy sheep shuffling Elsie was outside with Sigurd and Swain and everyone else was in their respective pens. I was feeling pretty good at this point - look at me! Mrs. Shepherdess herding sheep like a pro! The only problem was that the weathers kept attacking poor Elsie with their hard heads. And she's so incredibly pregnant she could hardly move to defend herself! Arrrrrg!!!

I hit upon a new plan: put weathers back and then wheedle Matilda, a tame yow, out into the yard with Elsie. Sooooo...Sigurd and Swain went back indoors and I jumped in with the Wooly Ladies. After a bit of wheedling Matilda trotted over to me and I tried to herd her towards the door. But Matilda had other plans. Tame or not, she refused to be separated from the flock!! There went my grand idea. I had thought that since she was tame she would easily just walk across the pen and outside with Else.

Uh...no. Sheep just don't play along when it comes to leaving the flock!!

I grabbed her muzzle, (where the nose goes, the sheep must follow..) spun her around and started to push against her bum with my thighs - kinda "walking" her towards the door farmer-fashion. Meanwhile Elsie was pitching a fit to beat the band and every time I managed to slide the door open she would try to dive in while I was shoving Matilda out! I can hardly handle one of these gigantic sheep - there was no way I could wrestle two!

After a few more seconds Matilda decided she had had enough of this nonsense and delivered a swift kick with a sharp well-aimed hoof. It landed on the most tender part of the shin. I yelped and fell against the fence - but not before I managed to shut the door and keep Elsie out. (I thought that was pretty smooth!) After a few moments hopping around on one leg and wailing about how unfair life is I dove into the flock and hauled Matilda back out. Half of the flock ran away and the other half tried to eat my hair and clothes as Matilda, digging in her hooves, resisted me with a strength that only irritated sheep can posess.

I somehow managed to A) avoid Matilda's hooves B) extract my left butt cheek from another sheep's teeth and C) spin Matilda around again and "walk" her towards the door. JUST as I was sliding the door open Matilda bolted , Elsie dove into the pen, and I went skiing across the straw as I hung on to Matilda's wool for dear life.

I am becoming a professional sheep skiier, like it or not!

This is when Erlend decided to walk into the byre. (Perfect timing...he always sees me when things are going WRONG!)

"I see you have another little rodeo going on!" he laughed. Then he hopped into the pen and helped me herd Elsie outside. Then we let a few of the more eager Wooly Ladies join her. Erlend clicked his tongue and said, "Noo Elsie is stressed! That's no geud." I stamped my foot at him in frustration and proceeded to tell him that everything had been going fine thank you very much! It was just Matilda - she refused to go along with my brilliant plan! If it hadn't been for Matilda I would have had Elsie settled in a few seconds.

Erlend continued to grin at me in that way he gets when I'm angry. (He thinks I'm cute. Grrrrr!) I stamped my foot again and announced that if he had only seen me in Alaska working at a job where I had some acctual skills he wouldn't think me such a baffoon!!

Erlend was loving every second of my angry foot-stamping show. So I gave up and stalked off in a huff. He found that even cuter and stood there in the byre passage grinning like a fool while I fumed. I stalked back to the hoose while muttering under my breath about sheep and men. Buuuut...by the time he came in for a cuppa I had forgiven him for thinking me "cute" and we had a good laugh about Matilda and the Wooly Ladies.

Matilda never made it out into the pen. She got her way in the end! She's still inside and Elsie-how is enjoying fresh air and sunshine with a handful of other wooly ladies! The next time I try to move greedy Matilda I'll come armed with a bucket!!

I've been waiting for several years to buy a laptop computer. (Good thing I didn't buy one in the States or it wouldn't be usable here!)

I'm currently writing two books but I just cannot be creative whilst working at this computer because it is stuffed in a dark dusty corner of the hallway!! With the laptop I can move around - and go outside when the weather is nice!

I got it second-hand from Ebay and it's a very basic Dell laptop since I'm not into building websites or doing all sorts of fancy media things.

Hmmm. I'll have to find some way to decorate it !!

I happened upon a brand-new literary magazine called Dappled Things. If my style of writing seems to fit this magazine I just might risk submitting something! I've already been published in one magazine but it is a very forgiving magazine that never asked me for perfection. So...who knows! Dappled Things might find me too amature.

My life-long dream has been to be an artist and an author.

This Lent fasting just isn't working out very well. Instead of feeling spiritual and holy I feel tired, weak and crotchety. Lent seems like a waste of time. I have no idea what Lent is all about and what the fasting is supposed to achive.

Are other Lenten followers feeling unfulfilled like me?? Or am I somehow missing something here??


I am now into the big fat volume # 3: Lent and Easter Season. Most of the time I'm so hungry and grumpy (and sleepy) that I mumble through the prayers and get nothing out of them. What am I doing wrong??


I chose this wonderful book about Benedictine spirituality for my Lenten read. However, I'm mostly bored stiff when I read it. I seem to have a very shallow spirituality. Perhaps this Lent is a time for me to really see myself in the mirror - and the reason I'm not "getting anything out of" fasting or spiritual reading is because I'm not putting much into it?


I wonder where else in my character and approach to life I am shallow and uninvolved? Hmmm. Something is really starting to happen here. Perhaps Lent isn't such a waste of time after all! (Zeb says that he is not into the fasting thing since he is a dog and not a Catholic!)

What a sad show I watched last night. It was about the latest fad: starved and emaciated females. The fashion world is now forcing "Size Zero" onto women.

Ok, let me get this straight: when we see pictures of starved and emaciated women in the Third World we get sick to our stomachs and feel horrible. And many of us send money to help feed them.

But when we see an emaciated white woman in the West with her bones sticking out we say, "She's my hero!"

So...we only value emaciation when it is done on purpose. We only respect starvation that is forced upon a person by their own self-will. "Look at how hard she works to starve (ahem...I mean diet) herself thin!"

Let me take this a step further: Is it possible that there is so much starvation in our world (willing and unwilling) beacuse we have pinned some kind of moral achivement onto self-starvation? If we are starved because there is no food to be had then we need help and the world pities us. But if we starve ourselves on purpose we are "disciplined" and someone to be admired??

"Look at how hard she works to maintain her figure!" we say as we watch a starved woman strut down the street. And then we purse our lips in disgust as a fat woman strolls by. "And look at her - she's a lazy pig with no self control!"

Is this why we don't work to acctually stop World Hunger: because we think women must be emaciated in order to be valued as human beings?

The media is being severely irresponsible. Whenever any media outlet promotes pictures or images of emaciated women they are telling all women and girls that, "You must look like this in order to be acceptable." That is dangerous. And wrong. Who gave the media or the fashion industry the right to set themselves up as our moral authority??

Yes, yes I've heard all of the tired "health" arguments. "If you are fat you are going to die of obesity!" But let's face the facts here: the "Body Mass Index" has been proven to be absolute bunk and there are plenty of medical studies that show how people with fat do very well in life - as long as they are fit. And that skinny people have increased mortality and increased cancer/diabetes/heart disease risks when they are underweight and/or not fit.

Did you know that as long as you are fit you can be 80 pounds overweight without any danger to your health? And that if you are just 5 pounds underweight you increase your mortality? Did you know that your health is determined by your fitness rather then your fat percentage?? Anyone, regardless of size, is at risk for death and disease when they are not fit.

What would happen to our world (including the Third World) if we human beings started to value fitness and strength rather then emaciated bodies?? Would women be allowed to have acctual bodies? Would they be loved for their minds and their characters rather then their waist measurements??

Women cry and wail for "equal rights" and to be set free from oppression. Yet what are we enduring right now if not the worst case of objectification and oppression? It surprises me that women will spend so much energy and time screaming at the Catholic Church for refusing to ordain women - but they bow at the altar of the Fashion Industry and salute the media which enslaves them to self-starvation and a collective world-wide eating disorder.

Every woman I know is on a diet. "I have to lose weight!" they have wailed for the past twenty years or so. Every year, every week, every day, "I have to lose weight!" All that they seem to think about is FOOD. You can't have a conversation without them wistfully wishing for this or that food - and then feeling guilty for wanting it. You can't eat without them making you totally uncomfortable as they fork tiny portions onto their plates and complain bitterly about their size.

Can you imagine what we women would be if we used this much time and energy to develop talents and skills?

But why bother. If we live in a world that only values us based on our waist-size then skills and talents will never matter.

What misery to constantly be at war with yourself.

You are beautiful NOW. Just the way you are now. You are beautiful and you are meant to be here - no matter what size you are. Yes, be fit and yes, eat healthy fresh foods in normal (not diet) portions. But don't fall for the awful lie that you are not worth something unless you are a skinny emaciated thing.

Love yourself. Life is too short to spend it punishing yourself via food.

The first daffodils on the farm! They were found sheltered between the hoose and a gate.


The rest of the daffodils are ready to burst open!


I always feel like I'm being watched every time I go into the byre...


Erlend planted some bluebells in a pail and then hung them up inside the stable. I found them yesterday. My husband is such a plant lover!!

Doon the passage that connects the upper court with the tied byre. (That is "Yeti" peering down at me.)

I have just been severely humbled and brought back down to earth.

I was moaning to myself about how hard it was to find a "good pair" of shoes. Me, who owns about ten pairs of shoes. "Oh poor me! I can't find a good pair of shoes for church!" At least I have shoes. I need to get over myself.

I just received a letter from Mr. Stephen Meh of Liberia. He can't read so his grandson writes his letters. He is 80 years old and lives in a shack that we wouldn't use to house cattle - never mind human beings. He was doing very poorly in health because he couldn't get medical care. I thought his wife, Mrs. Agnes Meh, was dead but it turns out that she is alive and well! (Thank God!)

As Mr. Meh spoke his grandson wrote down his word. Here is this man living in dire poverty and all he can do is send his prayers and blessings that me and Erlend are doing well! "I pray that you will be blessed with many lambs and calves" he writes in reply to my letter telling him about living on a farm. Then he inquires joyfully, "Now that you are married do you have any children? It is so wonderful that you are married!"

Then the grandson writes that Mr. Meh's health has improved since now he has access to health care! The next time I feel like grumbling about the health care services at my beck and call I'll remember this elder living in his shack and previously wheelchair-bound from lack of ANY health care!!

Not an ounce of self-pity comes through this letter. Instead this letter radiates joy and sends prayers for my (and Erlend's) well-being and a bountiful harvest of crops, calves and lambs.

What was that about shoes? Huh! Never mind!!

It's so good to have Mr. and Mrs. Meh's prayers!

Where the ploo goes the seagulls follow!

Our daffodils are blooming all over the place! Here's the best clump - blooming in a nice sheltered spot.

I have never cooked such an ugly pie in my life!!

I wonder if Erlend will dare touch it at tea time?

Oh what sad news I got today! I had read that my sponsored friend in Liberia, Mr. Stephen Meh, had lost his wife. But I wasn't sure how accurate this information was so I contacted the sponsorship foundation and asked if they could find out for me.

They told me, "This may take a bit of time." I was not surprised - it's not as if Mr. Meh has email in his deplorable hut in Liberia! (If only I could build him a house!)

Today, after several weeks, I received the sad news:

"We are all sorry for the death of Mrs. Agnes and shared the grief with the old man. She died on September 5, 2006 and was buried one week later. We thank sponsor Michelle and have extended condolences to the old man on the behalf of Michelle ----------. Please thank her for us for her care and concern. God Blesses, Augustus."

Care and concern. Right. If I was rich enough to give true care and concern Mrs. Meh would have received prompt and proper medical care when her ailiments struck. And neither of them would be living in a shack in such deplorable condition I wouldn't house one single sheep in it!!

**Sigh** I hate poverty.

EVERY TIME Erlend goes tae toon for one of his fancy "Orkney Agricultural Discussion Society" meetings I end up with coo emergencies six ways to Sunday!

Last time it was the wildest craziest heefer on the farm with her head stuck in a jammed yoke. She was in with the bull and if he decided it was time to breed...she'd be killed! After several attempts to free the heefer - with her attempting to kill me - I had to call my new cousin Marina and have her help me out. She's been married to a farmer a bit longer then me and is more of an experienced hand at these farm things!

Tonight I was upstairs watching TV with Brodgar purring in my lap. It was going on 11pm and so far...nothing. Not a peep from the byres.

Five minutes later the peace was shattered with a loud window-shattering, "BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!"

I froze. Brodgar stared at the window in shock.

Oh no. Please no.

I muted the TV and we listened.

"BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!" came the ungodly sound again. In case I had any doubts the windows rattled from another demonic "BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!"

In the name of all that is sacred!! A blasted coo was gaan um in the byre!! Which means she'd calved and was now going absolutely insane and bashing the calf to bits.

I bolted downstairs and called Erlend. I could hear laughter and tinkling glasses in the background. "Oh" said my calm having-fun-at-the-pub husband taking his ease as I tried not to scream fom the latest howl from the byre. "Just go and check and see what's going on in there."

Ok let me get this straight. My husband, away in toon, wanted me to go all by my wee lonesome self into the pitch-black byre that was emitting such unholy demonic noises into the night?? WAS HE MAD??

I went outside and crept up to the byre with a torch held aloft in one shaky hand. I beamed the light down the ink-black passageway and was greeted with a sea of creepy glowing eyes and another chilling rendition of "BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!"

"BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!" "BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!" "BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!"

I never ran so fast in my life.

Breathless from absolute terror I called Erlend again. "I AM NOT GOING INTO THAT FLIPPIN' DARK ROARING BYRE!" I screeched into the phone. "My wedding vows did not include walking through the gates of Hell while you are out in town making merry!!!"

"BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!" "BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!" "BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!"

I did the only thing I could do. I called Cousin Stevie. Every time Erlend goes out into toon I have to call Cousin Stevie. And every time it's something really big and annoying like stuck heefers, bad birthing or um coos.

"Stevie" I squeaked into the phone as another "BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!" ripped through the night. "There's something awfully crazy going on in the byre and there is NO way I'm going in there to see what's up!!"

"Ah! Hello Michelle!" Came Stevie's usual cheerful voice. (How he can be this cheerful at 11pm with a terrified farmwife on the phone begging for his help is beyond me...) "I'll be right doon!"

Stevie arrived and I followed him into the byre. He marched in matter of factly and turned on the lights. Behold! Coo #70 was gaan absolutely um and was busy dushing her calf half to death - and another coo had calved as well right on the other side of the gate! Coo #70's mouth was wide open and her tounge flopped around as she roared wide-eyed and terrifying. I have never heard an animal make the noises that um cows make!! These cattle creatures are built like tanks and know how to fight!!

"BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!" roared Coo #70 "BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!"

Translation: "If you come any closer I will most certainly kill you."

"BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!"

"If you think I am kidding about killing you then keep walking towards my pen."

"BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!"

"That's it you morons! I'm coming over that gate and pounding you into oblivian!"

(This is when Stevie turned on me and said in a rather urgent voice, "NO YOU DON'T COME DOON HERE WI ME - JUST GIT AHINT THE DOOR NOO!" I didn't stick around to argue.)

It took Stevie a good ten minutes to fish her calf out of the pen with a crook and transfer it to the safety of a calving pen all while the coo tried to live up to her promise of murder. Meanwhile I hid behind the byre door and peeked through the crack to see the action. (I always err on the side of cowardice when it comes to the beasts!!) I was armed with a large stick though just in case Stevie got into trouble. I didn't completely abandon him!

Once the calf was in the private calving pen (one of several) Coo #70 was then let loose and she sped for the pen where she continued to roar at her calf and bash it with her head.

"BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!" "BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!" "BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!"

My head was beginning to ache.

Erlend arrived home just when all of the hard work was done. Stevie and I gave him a good dose of ribbing and commanded him to never again dare to leave the farm and have a life. Then after Stevie left Erlend put iodine on the calves' navels and stuck Coo #70's calf inside of the "Um Box" so he could be safe.

We went into the tied byre and checked on Elsie-yow who is supposed to be lambing hours ago. She's nowhere near lambing. She's HUGE with lambs and absolutely fit to burst - but all she wants is MORE GRAIN NOW!!!! (She's learned how to beg!)

We are now going to take a one hour nap (it's midnight) and then get up again and check to see if #70 has "cleaned" - which means passed the afterbirth. (Erlend said that an um coo usually calms down when she cleans.) If the calf isn't able to sook we'll give him milk and then, maybe, we'll get to bed!

Well, here's what I have to say regarding this um coo business:

"BLLLRAAAAHHHHHHHHHHLLLLRRRRRRR!!"

Arrrg! I thought I had deleted this negative post of mine!! I pushed "delete" and it's still here! I apologize if I dragged your mood down with such a dreary post - and I apologize if I offended anyone!! Cheers!

I don't see how it is possible that Erlend is on the go STILL, at 9:00pm, when he didn't get to bed until 3am this morning because of um coo #70! I want to know his secret... (is it the boiled tatties?)

We got three more calves today! First to calve was our coo that is still doon with some kind of back problem. She can't feed her calf so Erlend has to milk one of the other coos in order to feed this calf.

Coo #4 gave birth but her calf was nearly dead! Much to his joy Erlend was able to revive the wee bull calf with chest compressions while mama moo licked away at his cold little body. He's alive - but too weak to nurse. Soooooo....I milked one coo while Erlend milked Coo #4 and then after he stomach tubed the calf we fed him. Now he's in the byre feeding calf of the "Doon Coo" with another stomach tube and the rest of the milk. Oy!!

The third coo that calved today is doing FINE and we don't need to milk or revive or do anything else for her. She's off in her own pen making happy mama moo noises and her calf is sooking away.

I had just taken a nice hot perfumed bath before Erlend announced that he was drowning in a dozen things to do. I went out to the byre to oggle the new calves and saw the two coos that he needed to milk. The tamest had charn all over her legs and tail and was standing in a pile of much. Erlend looked like he was about to start ripping his hair out. "I have to milk this coo and then milk that coo and then feed the twa calves - and then I have to go feed the other byre!"

Even as I smelled the soft floral smells of my bathwater wafting through the byre and I felt my teeth gritting I managed to blurt out, "If you'd like, I'll milk that black coo..."

"Would you really?? WONDERFUL!" beamed Erlend. "You go feed the sheep and I'll go do this and that and we'll meet in here and milk the coos!"

So I fed the baah'ing Wooly Ladies, got charged by Magnus the ram when I checked his water and was pestered almost to insanity by King Tut for his blasted addiction: tinned food. Every time I go outside King Tut materializes and screams his silly head off for tinned food! He's totally addicted to the stuff! The reason I know he's wailing for tinned food (all day, every day) is because every move I make sends him bolting expectantly for the dairy where all of the cats are fed. As soon as he realizes I am not following him he races back to me and starts again with the wailing and howling . "Tinned food! Tinned food!" If I so much as twitch a finger he heads for the dairy. And if I'm not outside he perches on the windowsill and wails for HOURS. "Give me tinned food! I need tinned food!"

He really does test my sanity...

Anyhoo, Erlend managed to get both of the coos into yokes and we each hunkered down and milked away. (I came into the marriage with hardly a farm skill to my name BUT I did know how to milk a cow at least!!) Just as I got into a good rythm of milking, my coo decided to kick the jug out of my hand. SPLASH! went the milk! "Dag nab it!" I grumbled to Erlend. "The dang coo kicked the jug oot of me hand!!"

Erlend looked over at me in surprise. "WHAT?" he boggled in a tired worn-out voice. "You let the coo kick over the milk jug?"

I was in a good mood and a wicked little smile lit my face as I held the nearly empty jug out of the way of the flying hooves of fury. "You just hush up now" I told Erlend "or I'll throw the rest of this milk at ya!"

Erlend returned to his milking and when my coo calmed down I jabbed at her udder with my fist and resumed milking. KICK!! went a sharp hoof.

"Now you just STOP it coo!" I grumbled and tried to milk again. KICK!!! went the hoof. We seemed to be engaged in a very strange kind of dance!

She finally settled down and let me milk - but then she got at me in the worst possible way: by taking a big splattery poo!! I was able to get the milk out of the way and then I tossed down some clean straw to help eh...lessen the splatters. Then I grabbed the teat and **SQUELCH** discovered that it was covered in a nice layer of fresh charn. She completed her attack by smacking me in the face with her charny swish. Then she let out a very satisfied sounding "moo" and let me continue milking without further incident. (After I cleaned off all of that lovely charn on the udder. Thanks moo!)

So much for that lovely bath...

We finally got the coos milked and the calves fed and now I'm indoors warming up and trying to decide when I should check on Elsie-yow. She STILL hasn't had those lambs!!

I am ready to drop onto the floor and sleep like a log. Everyone seems to be happy (except King Tut). Almost all of the coos and calves are fed. The dog and cats are fed. The sheep are fed. I just chowed down some chocolate. Life is good!!

But Erlend won't be ready for bed until he gets the final byre fed...

I need a tail extender for poor Elsie-yow. Her tail is so short that her tender little...eh...neither regions are totally exposed to sun, wind and biting bugs!!

I need to find a tail extender - something thick and heavy enough to stay in place but light enough that she can lift it up with her tail stub. I think wool would be best but how would I take raw oo and make a bum cape??

Hmmm. I'm thinking I can tie it to her oo above her tail stub and it can lie over the stub and dangle down over her woowoo. Then when she lifts her tail to do her business the fake tail will rise as well! I can change it out as needed. (Or...when I can catch her!!)

Any ideas??

(I'll post pictures below the story)

Elsie-yow could not get her lambs out so we had to help the poor critter. We hate interfering with Mother Nature because it's very stressful on the animal. I have been hand-feeding Elsie and touching her back and head for about two weeks in order to help tame her down as she's one of our two pure Texel yows. I hope to tame her lambs so I need Elsie to be tame first and foremost!

Well, my wheedling and feeding and back-scratching worked! Even though we had to pin her down in order for Erlend to deliver her lambs she has not held a sheep grudge.

Since I did not feel confident enough to lamb Elsie I was the one doing the pinning down while Erlend set to work. However, I did put my hand inside of Elsie and feel the lambs so that I could learn to "picture" lambs inside of a yow. Erlend has been teaching me how to recognize what direction a calf or lamb is going by feeling certain joints and also the hooves.

The whole time I was holding Elsie in place I kept getting my bum bitten by Magnus the ram (and daddy!) who was in the next pen. He's such a cheek!

Erlend pulled the first lamb out and she wasn't doing to well! We tapped her eye and she gave the teeniest flinch and so we knew there was hope! We held her aloft so all of the birth fluids could drain and then we thumped her and rubbed her all while saying, "Come on lamb! Come on!" A few moments passed and then there was a big *splutter* and a cough - and the wee yow lamb was alive and kicking! (And making the cutest noise in the world - some kind of meepy-beepy mini-baah.)

I took the lamb to Elsie and even before it reached her she was sticking her tongue out and trying to lick it! She is a good mother! Erlend delivered the next lamb and it was a ram! He had a much slower start then the yow lamb and he refused to sook. We left them alone for a while but when I checked back half an hour later I found the yow lamb bursting with a tummy full of milk and the ram lamb skinny, cold and empty of milk.

I climbed into the pen and picked up the ram all while expecting Elsie to smash me to bits. She never budged. I positioned the ram at the tit, eased his wee jaws open and then squirted milk into his mouth. This got him sooking the air!! But whenever I tried to fasten him to the tit he would go limp and give up. Now matter how hard I tried he would not take the tit. He would sook the milk from my cupped palm and he would sook as I squirted it into his mouth. But he refused to sook on his own! I ended up lying there on my stomach in the nasty straw squirting beesmilk into his mouth while he made his tongue into that familiar sooking "U" shape. Meanwhile Elsie stood there and did not protest! The yow lamb was a pest though - she kept bumping my sticky slick fingers off of the equally sticky slick teat. Arrrg!!

Erlend and Geordie finally came in and checked the lambs. We put Elsie into the "lamb adopter" stanchon and Geordie and Erlend took turns milking her while I held the yow lamb in front of her. This way she stayed calm and didn't fight to escape the stanchon. (The ram lamb was in with her udder but he STILL refused to sook!)

Erlend then took the beesmilk and put it into a big syringe and then, after passing a tube down into the ram lamb's stomach, he fed the little boy his first meal! He also gave the lambs a jag of Vitiman E and soon enough the ram was merrily sooking away with his sister!


Elsie keeps a keen eye on the yow lamb - but the lamb refused to hold still and stay put!


I ended up holding the wriggly lamb so Elsie would stay calm.


All attempts to get the ram lamb to sook came to nothing. He must have been vitiman E deficient.


So he was given his first meal via a stomach tube. Farming isn't always romantic and cute - sometimes you have to interfere with Mother Nature.


"Where's the udder?? Where is it??"


We have sooks!

We had two dead calves today - twins out of Coo #75. She's the tamest coo on the farm and will come up to you in the field and bonk you with her head to make you scratch her!

Erlend had to help her calve because she was getting nowhere. The first calf came out dead. The second was also dead. The calving had taken too long and the calves didn't make it. Another sad fact of nature.



However this story has a happy ending!

Coo #76 is still doon with something wrong with her back. She has no milk and her calf is being fed on artificial milk which is not as good as real milk.

So we took Calf #76 and rubbed him down with the birth fluids from Coo #75. While Erlend calved the second dead calf I kept the adoptee calf in the Coo's line of vision. Sure enough she started to make Mummy Coo noises at the calf! She started to get more and more demanding and we saw that she really wanted him! "Give me that calf! I want that calf!!"

While I held the calf near the coo Erlend and Geordie snuck the twa dead calves away. Coo #75 was near desparate to get to the calf at this point!!

We stuck him in the Um Box and let Coo #75 loose. She ran over to the box and after a few sniffs she immediately started to lick him and talk at him in that special mummy-moo language they use on their calves. It's a match made in heaven!

I've wanted one of these hen nests for years. But with all of my moving around I held off because I didn't want it to get broken. And now that I'm settled I have one in a lovely cream color!



Drats - it's 12:20pm!! How time flies! With all of the calving excitement I'm behind schedule. I'll have to put off praying the Office of Readings until after I get the tatties on...

Don't just rely on this feature page with tree blogs featured!! Hit up the BIG list of blogs that have made recent posts:

To find the list of most recent posts go to that main page where three blogs are featured and there is always a picture from that week's "featured blog."

look over to the right where you will see a lighter colored area. There will be a title:

"More..."

Under this is:

"View all blogs"

click on that and it will take you to a page that lists all blogs that have made posts in order according to date. This is the BEST way to haunt the active blogs!!

Or use this web address:

I'm having laughter withdrawls. Where is FC anyway?? Is she (he?) ever going to blog again? That puss is the hit of the party around here!! I guess I should put out some catnip and tinned food to try and lure him (her?) back!

I am a lover of all things girly-girl! I also love a good bargan! I found these lovely hats for a fraction of the price. Most hats like this would cost nearly $200 - or more! And they usually aren't as lovely as these hats. I got these for much less then $100. I waited for a lonnnng time to own some lovely foo-foo hats!!









I couldn't resist posting a photo of my fake rose. I just love this thing - and I can't kill it:




The hatpins and hatpin holder are reproduction antiques - there's no WAY I'd buy the real McCoy! Too expensive. Besides, I'd be too paranoid to use them if they were expensive antiques!


Pretty yet totally fake antiques. (They are real hatpins - but made with modern plastic beads etc.) I call it, "Cheap-wad Chic."

Some beautiful flowers on a bush back home in Massachusetts last spring.

My step-father made a DVD and sent it to me - I received it today and was so surprised! I was even more delighted to discover that my new laptop has a DVD player built in. So Erlend and I kicked back after tea and watched the show. He even went around to various family members and had them say howdy. It was such a treat! Now I'll have to find a way to make a DVD of my life here in Orkney and send it home! My Aunt Diane and Aunt Deb let them stay with them at their homes while I was waiting to come here to Orkney and marry Erlend. I miss being able to see my friends and family!! I love Orkney - but it's too far away to invite folk in America over for Sunday dinner!


Aunt Diane, Me, Aunt Deb at my wedding gown fitting in America.

We were sitting on the bed watching a Jane Austin movie when I kept hearing something boggling in the byre. It kept on and on - but it was a coo boggling in the other byre - the one that does not have calving coos. It contains coos with older calves and then heefers that are not yet due to calve.

Finally Erlend decided he had to go see what was up because the coos kept on boggling - and that's never a good sign.

He found a heefer freshly calved!! Go figure.

It's been raining calves!! Last night I was sound asleep and dreaming away. I think I was dreaming of being in a big department store shopping for something. All of a sudden I heard this demonic roaring and thought to myself, "Now why would a coo be gaan um in a department store??" Then I burst out of sleep as another window-rattling roar shook the night! I quickly elbowed my poor sleeping husband (rather harsher then necessary - I'm not always tactful when half awake) and boggled "ERLEND I THINK SOMETHING'S GAAN UM IN THE BYRE!!"

She was so loud I could hear her over the howling wind!

Poor man. He bolted up out of bed with a "huh?? whasappaning??" and then heard the roar and said as calmly as anything, "Oh, a coo has calved."

Why does he always get to be so calm??

Anyhoo, gentle tame Coo #14 was gaan absolutely BONKERS - as um as they come! Yet she wasn't attacking her calf. That was good!!

As soon as Erlend stepped outside the wind kicked into full-force and snow began to pour out of the sky. Erlend discovered ANOTHER coo had also calved. But all of the calving pens were full so here we were (I came out to help after taking some time to get dressed in a half-awake stupor) playing "Musical Coos" at 3am in howling winds and driving snow. Thankfully most of them were tame.

We managed to get everyone sorted out in about an hours time - all of the coos were bedded down in their own private pens and their calves were doing fine. We finally crept back to bed and fell into that sleeping-like-a-log sleep that farmers cultivate during calving and lambing season.

We are both TIRED today!

Oh no...I hear boggling in the byre...AND ERLEND'S NOT HERE!! I hate going into that dark creepy byre all alone at night! I have a secret fear. Two secret fears in fact: I am afraid of spiders and the dark.

Wur tiny yow lamb had a watery eye with some kind of white pearly scale over the black part. So today we loaded up Elsie-yow and the two lambs and took them tae toon tae see the vet! It turned out the yow lamb had part of her lower eyelid turned in and the eyelashes were torturing her little eye. (Hence the scale thingy.)

The poor little lamb had to have some painful treatment but her eye seems to be doing very well and she seems much relieved! You should have seen the look on folks faces when I came strolling through the waiting room holding a lamb hahaha!!

Elsie was so mellow that we went aboot toon doing messages while she and her lambs were snuggled in the back of the pickup truck in a deep bed of straw. (The pickup has a cap so they weren't exposed to the elements.)

Now the sheep are settled back into the lambing pen and hopefully the little yow lamb will be better in a few days!

The poor little calf in the lamb warming box. He did not survive.

A sad day yesterday. Erlend had to calve a heefer in the night because her calf was coming oot backwards. She ended up not doing a good job grooming her newborn and he took a chill. By the time Erlend saw him in the morning he was hypothermic. Erlend put the calf in the "lamb warmer" box and did his best to save him but he ended up dying just the same.

We have some calf issues today: the heefer that lost her calf to hypothermia is rejecting her adopted calf that Erlend put on her. And another heefer is having issues nursing her calf because her teats are too small. He can't seem to grasp the teat and hang on for a sook. Erlend was sitting in the pen helping the calf to sook and I brought him his porridge and tea so he woudn't miss breakfast.

We had FIVE calves born yesterday! Erlend was nearly run ragged. We watched a movie (on my laptop!) about my patron Saint, Saint Therese and then went to bed and slept like logs. Miraculously we were able to sleep through the night and we both feel very refreshed.

I have the fire gaan and now I need to go feed the sheep. Maybe then I can hunker down and do my morning prayers! Lent is turning out to be amazingly productive for me spiritually!! I don't "get" the fasting thing yet - but I've engaged in a lot of deep throught and personal reflection. But all of that is between me and God hehehe!

Erlend put "Torf", one of our Angus bulls, out with coo #97 because she was hankering for her man. Then we went to bed and slept for several hours so that the happy couple could be left in peace. Erlend got up about 2am to put them back in their pens and he found them hanging out in the wrong byre!! Uh...what happened?? He put them back to their proper places and returned to bed.

This morning when he went outside to make his morning byre check he found loads of deep hoof marks all over the front lawn!! It seems that our coo and bull got loose and had themselves a merry jaunt all over the steading! What we don't understand is this: most of this romantic stroll took place right under our bedroom window. Why didn't we wake up??

Cattle. I won't even try and understand them hehehe

I have never shared a home with such a selfish, moody and sulky animal in my life! I love our dear furry Zeb - he's a very cute and loving dog...when he's getting his own way. Any time that his will is challenged he turns into a sulky brat of a thing and he even pitches fits like a 2-year old child!!

I never knew that an animal had the capacity to be so emotional! This is coming as a big shock to me. I've always had dogs and cats and I've always doted on them and loved them to bits. But the dogs had always been cheerful and seemed to be eager to please. They would have sulky moments - like when I had to leave them home or they got scolded for stealing food etc but I've never had a dog that absoultely HATED obeying any command, even the small "sit" command!

Zeb has absolutely no desire to please. It's very strange.

Even a simple, "Sit down" turns into a five minute battle of the wills EVERY SINGLE TIME. Both me and Erlend are totally flabbergasted by this. Over and over again one of us will say in a firm voice while pointing at the floor, "Sit down." And over and over again Zeb stands there glowering and refuses to budge. So finally I have to bring out The Water Bottle of Power and his furry butt quickly perches on the floor as soon as he sees it.

However, as he sits there he hangs his head and glowers at me in an undeniable sulk! Where is the joy and companionship in this kind of behavior - and end result?

I end up frustrated and quite resentful towards this animal that wont even do a simple "sit" or "lay down" without turning it into a fight of the wills that ends in resentful obedience and hours of glowering and sulking! (I'm not kidding about the hours part.)

Zeb is so intent on having his way that the second his will is denied he pitches a loud high-pitched whiney barking fit! This fit ceases only when The Water Bottle of Power arrives on the scene. And then, more sulking.

Erlend does not run into as many battles of the will with our dog as I do. Zeb basically follows Erlend around 300 acres of farm and is always busy and never has much of a chance to get into (or cause) trouble.

But with me Zeb has ample oppurtunity to need to obey me in order to avoid trouble. For one thing he LOVES to jump up on people when they first come into the house. And he absolutely MUST be all around the coffee table bounding with joy and waving his huge fluffy tail until coffee cups start flying and the biscuits end up on the floor. He makes himself sick on stolen cat food, steals chicken bones, chases the cats and the sheep, tries to sneak off the farm so he can chase chickens, jumps in visitors' cars, jumps on visitors' cars...you get the drift! All the normal dog stuff. I have to be much more demanding of Zeb's obedience simply because the house is much smaller then 300 acres - and there's more "quiet time" for Zeb to fill with adventures that usually lead to trouble. This doesn't bother me one bit - but the dog's bad additude baffles me! I have never had such a resentful sulky dog in my life.

Once Zeb is denied his will he acctually focuses on this event and does not let go and "move on." Hence, the sulking. Even if I try to distract him with some cheerful play time or some happy petting he refuses to forget about what he wanted to have or do. Here is a good example:

When I am in the sheep byre Zeb is content to pace up and down the long passageway oggling the cats who always have themselves comfortably stationed in the higher dog-free zones. They glower from their lofty heights while Zeb stares up at them and drools. This "cat TV" keeps Zeb wonderfully amused while I feed the sheep. He lives for his Cat TV time and dances with anticipation whenever we head towards the sheep byre!

When the two lambs were born Zeb snarled at them and harassed them until the yow became a nervous wreck. So I scolded him away from the pen. Instead of returning to the cat oggling Zeb proceeded to follow me around the byre screeching and wailing at me because he couldn't bother the lambs! I couldn't believe it!! This is the kind of stuff a spoiled 2-year-old child would pull! And here was a DOG harassing me and trying to bully me into letting him have his way!

He continued this behavior every single time I took him into the byre and no amount of scolding could make him stop pitching his fit. Even Erlend, whom Zeb adores, could not get Zeb to stop his fit pitching. He'd be a mere foot away from me screeching and wailing about those lambs all while he had an entire byre full of cats to stare at! And once we return to the house he'd flop down in his basket and sulk at me for a good hour.

(I know the difference between a collie being neurotic about sheep and a dog being a spoiled brat about not getting his way.)

It's gotten to the point where I cannot bring him with me because he pitches a fit every single time for the entire time I'm in the byre. Which totally stinks because I always enjoy having him with me.

Another area where his selfish behavior causes problems is when it comes to giving him attention. If we give him a good dose of pats and scratches throughout the day he pitches a major fit when it is time for him to go to his sleeping place at night. As soon as we shut the door he barks and screeches and I have to bring out The Water Bottle of Power.

But if we only give him a bare miminal of pets and scratches he goes to bed just fine and is very peaceful and content.

This really stinks because we both love this dog and love to pet him and give him attention! And he loves the attention as well.

Zeb is a mystery to me. I've never known a more friendly dog that is also such a spoiled brat!