Thursday 24 December 2015

A Cat Named Tore

Several months ago one of our neighbours moved away.  It was really upsetting to everyone in the community, but probably most of all a pair or semi-feral cats that she had living in her barn.  Turns out she would feed them on occasion in order to keep them around to help keep the rodent population down.  Since she left there has been no occasional bowl of cat food and so they seemed to have made out way to our house! Well our shop, to be precise.

Our shop is mouse and pack rat riddled.  It's disgusting and freaky because you can hear them, but you can't see them... But I don't blame them at all.  We happen to keep a lot of feed in the shop.  It's like rodent heaven.  So the arrival of cats is awesome! Even more awesome for me because I actually like cats and a change from the constant presence of dogs (we're at 14 now) is kind of nice!

There is one really tiny little black one that you only ever see if he doesn't realize you're there.  If he sees you he bolts.  I have no idea if he is getting any of the food we put out for them  but he hangs around the chicken coop a lot...

The other is only partly wild.  More tame then wild I'd say, as in  he'll let you pet him, but don't try to pick him up.  I was watering the sheep the other day and he came and hung out with me.  He looks kind of like a Siamese cross with these really weird eyes and one torn up ear.  Hence his new name, Tore.

So now in addition to the cows, horses, sheep, donkeys, lama, guinea fowl, chickens, ducks, and dogs (!!), we now "have" two cats!

Although, similar to Little Orphan Lamby, Tore likes to hang around on our deck and beg for food.  Super annoying, but also super stupid!  We have 14 dogs, Cat!  What are you doing hanging around the house?!  He might not be the smartest cat in the shop... Though Little Orphan Lamby is still kicking around, so maybe it's alright...  I guess he didn't get his torn up ear for nothing though...

Tuesday 1 December 2015

No, that's not a heart lying on the floor...


I just witnessed probably the third most disgusting thing I have ever seen in my life.  And of coarse it happened right here on the ranch.

So I am in the mudroom of our house, putting on my boots to go outside when I see what almost looks like a heart, just sitting there in the middle of the floor, all wet and slimy.  It even had tubes sticking out of it.  I even called Partner #2 downstairs to see if she could figure it out and she thought it was a heart too. Against my better judgement, I even touched it to flip it over.  A move that is at this very moment inducing my gag-reflex...

Now, let me throw a little ranch know-how at you: one of the most common methods for castrating young animals is called "banding".  That is when you put a very small elastic band around the scrotum with an almost reverse set of pliers.  Almost immediately the animal loses blood supply to the area and over time the sack shrivels up and falls off.  Except for the initial elastic placement, it is almost entirely painless for the animal.

So, yep... you guessed it.  The thing that was lying on the floor in my house was not a heart (which is bad enough), but a juicy pair of calf nuts.  And no sooner had I realized what it was, did a dog snatch it up and proceed to noisily and hastily munch on this rotting, stinking treat...

Commence scouring hands.

There has been one other occasion where I witnessed something similar, but it was a pair of fluffy little lamb nuts.  So not nearly as gag-inducing.

This was utterly disgusting.

Now our mudroom stinks like rotten testicles and our dog is happier then heck with a belly full of calf nuts...

This is my life.


Tuesday 3 November 2015

The Beginning of the End

This morning I woke up to this.


It is the beginning of the end in my book.

It is far to early for this junk.  This time last year I was all sunshine and roses about Fall and how pretty it is and how this year, This Year!, was going to be different! I was going to l-o-v-e winter!  It was going to be beautiful and fluffy and not at all life-threateningly cold...  But who was I kidding.  When I saw this outside my window this morning I was tempted to dress all in black and proceed with a 6-month mourning period of the Sun until it's magical resurrection in the Spring.  The Sun is my Jesus.

Why have I chosen to live in a place where the weather could kill me?  Where the wind hurts my face and the cold makes my teeth ache??

At first I was in denial.  "It must be ash.  Surely there is a massive forest fire on the mountain raining down all these snow-like particles. No way it is snow." It is only November 3rd, dammit!

I am such a whiner.  It all melted within the hour, but still it is a warning of what is to come!  Last year we had a couple of really good storms, but we didn't even have snow on the ground at Christmas! It was a pretty darn mild winter last year and I have a feeling this year Mother Nature is going to make up for it...


To be fair the fall is really really pretty around these parts and I do love that.  Too bad it only lasts 2 weeks.  



Ollie concentrating intensely 

And that is it.  I just needed someone to commiserate with.  Plus I had a couple pictures to share.

Friday 23 October 2015

Naming Ranch Animals is a Delicate Art Form

I have this habit that I have developed since moving to the ranch of naming any animal that stands out from the herd/flock for any reason whatsoever.  Sometimes this is to my great disappointment, because as you may know, if you have read my blog long enough, things die. A lot.  Not that it's an official rule or anything, but I have amended my habit to name animals that are past their newborn phase and more into their "hey, they might actually make it" phase of life...  But even that is not guaranteed to guard my delicate heart.

Of note, recently we were at our ranch in Merritt, when I noticed a couple of stud horses that I had no idea we even had! (I don't spend much time at the Merritt ranch) And, true to form, I immediately named them.  And, also true to form, Partner #1 immediately objected.



Seeing this handsome devil, my knee jerk naming reaction was of course, Fabio.  Yes, it is a cliche, but his luscious locks are so irresistible, any other name would be a disservice.  Of course, Partner #1 immediately quashed that, saying his name was Michael.  After much banter back and forth, we (I) settled on Michael-Fabio... 


This (actually quite creepy) gentleman is named Beetlejuice for the dark ring around his blue eyes.  Very Michael Keaton. 

Among other names, we have Actual Clifford and Fake Clifford named after the town Actual Clifford came from.  Fake Clifford gets his name because Partner #2 and I thought he was Actual Clifford, and by the time we were corrected, the name had stuck.  Except now Actual Clifford is no more, rest in peace, so I suppose Fake Clifford is the only Clifford.  There can be only one...

Creepy Frank is our ubber-creepy llama.  His name is absolutely appropriate and I make no apologies. 

Stanley Ramsbottom.  Our super impressive, curly horned ram.  Credit here goes 100% to Partner #2. 

Little Orphan Lamby.  In all honesty, I am surprised this little guy is still alive.  Since he was bottle fed pretty much from day one, he often makes his way back to our front yard no matter what field the flock is in, no matter how far away, and no matter how many dogs are kicking around.  So perhaps my enthusiasm for his staying power will prove unfounded....

Gringo and Esé.  A couple of stud horses who I really can't even describe without being horribly racist...

Dolly Parton.  The credit for this one goes to Partner #1.  Trust him to name the milk cow after the biggest breasted country singer of all time....

Macro and Micro (a.k.a. Mac and Mike). Brother jersey calves we adopted to pick up some of Dolly Parton's, a-hum, excess.  When we got them, they were indistinguishable but Mike got sick and is, consequently, a lot smaller than Mac now.  Hence Macro and Micro. 

"My" horse Asher's naming is almost not even worth mentioning except for the fact that Partner #1 agreed to it readily because it can easily be changed to a certain swear word when angry... 

Now typically, naming the dogs is entirely up to Partner #1, mostly, because they are entirely his responsibility and he is the one who needs to have an easily "yellable" name to call them.  However, recently we acquired a pair of pups (internal groan) who are damn near identical and I am gunning for Foghorn and Leghorn after classic cartoon character rooster Foghorn Leghorn 

Foghorn Leghorn

It's perfect and I love it. 

At this point in time, I can't think of any others.  Come next summer I am sure I will have more.  

I think it is safe to say that life got more awesome since I came to the ranch...


Our latest family photo

Sunday 27 September 2015

"But just at that moment, as though at a signal, all the sheep burst out into a tremendous bleating..."

Partner #1 is gone again to our ranch in Merritt for work.  With fall here, the busy season in ranch terms, he is going to be gone more and more often.

This time has gone pretty tame compared to past trips he has made.  No one has turned up dead yet, which can be counted on almost every time he leaves.  That is to say, we haven't found any bodies yet.... Knock on proverbial wood.

Our sheep flock seems to think they have run out of grass in the field they are in, however.  Sheep are finicky.  They will eat their favorite patches down to dirt and then believe they are starving when really they just wont eat the less desirable grass two feet away.  In any case, a brave few have decided that they are immune to electric fence and it has become almost a daily morning routine to head out and chase them back in again  My first inclination is to leave the bastards out there but we have to bring them back every time in case they start giving the less brave any ideas. Ugh, sheep suck.

In an effort to keep them satisfied, we have started giving them a daily ration on oh-so-delicious kelp meal.  This way, the ones who have jumped the fence wont get their share, thus encouraging the others to stay put.  Or something like that... I don't think sheep think that logically, but that is what I am going with!

Problem is, the sheep have now learned what it means when I walk through the field carrying the blue bucket.  Usually they part like the red sea and I'm Moses, but now it's almost a safety hazard to walk through there! Sheep don't normally seem very threatening, but when there is a hundred sheep that weigh almost as much as you mobbing you for the goods you carry, it's down right scary! And their grain trough is at the opposite end of the field, go figure.  It's going to turn into Black Sheep around here soon... (If you get that reference, we should be best friends)

You solve one problem, only to create another.

Our guardian llama, Creepy Frank, decided he was amoungst the brave and managed to get himself on the other side of the fence, only to realize that he was now stuck.  And eventually thirsty. Usually he is a pretty crafty llama, however, and is usually bolstered by the fact that he has thick wool to protect himself from the electric fence, this time though the fence bested him and he was stuck on the wrong side for a couple days.  The thing about Creepy Frank is that he is capital-C creepy.  So while we wanted him to make his way over to the other side of the fence and consequently the water trough, neither Partner #2 nor I were particularly keen on getting close enough to help the creepy bugger. Pity finally won out for me and with the assistance of our trusty dog Abby, I managed to lift the fence up high enough for Creepy Frank to duck it.  Funny thing was though, he took 10 steps, turned around, and looked almost longingly back to where he had just come from!  He didn't immediately go to the water trough either! Ungrateful llama.

We have one solitary stud horse in our barn yard subsisting on hay at the moment.  Thing is though, he has been in that barn yard, bored and alone for too long, with only that bale of hay to keep him occupied, so that is all he has done.  Eat, all day.  So now his hay supply is getting a little low... Not "Oh my god, call the SPCA!" low, more like "Alright, you're going on a diet" kind of low.  Neither Partner #2 nor I know how to run the tractor with any confidence in order to get him a new bale, so we've decided to put him on rations to conserve whats remaining.  So now instead of a 24 hour mealtime he is on more like a 6 hour mealtime.  Good thing he can stand to plateau with  his weight gain.  He was getting to be a little chunky... But don't tell him I said that.

One of our guinea fowl chicks have turned up ill.  Birds, by the way, are real jerks to any of their own who show weakness.  They are descended from dinosaurs after all.  So our kids have decided that they are going to nurse this poor bedraggled bird back to health.  Want to know whats loud?  A sad, sick, confused guinea fowl in a box in your dining room, that's what.

So needless to say I am MORE than ready for Partner #1 to come home.  Not that anything catastrophic has happened, but the possibility is always there, and seems to get higher whenever the boss is away.  And being on high alert all the time is a stressful state of being!

Oh Ranch Life, gotta love it!




Sunday 6 September 2015

What Do You Get When You Cross a Clown With a Turkey?

It has been brought to my attention that I do not post as frequently as I used to.  I think this is a combination of things.  Summer has been a hectic few months, with really nothing of any import happening... Nothing that I would count as hilarious or fantastical ranch happenings anyways, therefore not really blog worthy.  Plus I think I have become complacent. Which is really just another word for lazy...

As we came upon September 1st it seems as though summer was counting down the days until it could take a long awaited vacation, and promptly (and violently,  in my opinion) left us.  Now instead of 30+ degrees of beautiful sunshine, we have frost, rainstorms, and outfits with sweaters.

With this cold snap comes the desperation to pick everything in our garden before it withers and dies. Though despite the worrying, we have yet to get outside and pick anything.... Apparently that is on the docket for today.

Our duck house is still a work in progress, although I have a bathtub/pond now and a hole dug to put it in.  I did however, manage to set up a temporary fenced in run and fashioned a way for them to get out of their gas chamber of a house whenever they please.  So they are pretty happy ducks at the moment.

Oh! On a more exciting note! Partner #1 came home with over 30 guinea fowl chicks! If you have no idea what they look like, check out the picture below.

These are not our chicks, this is just to give you an idea of what they will look like.

Basically they are a small turkey crossed with a clown with a bad skin condition...  Currently though, they are pretty damn cute.  At last count we have roughly 50 birds on the place now. I told Partner #1 that we are turning into the funny farm.  I feel like we should open the gates and charge admission...

This is a few of them. The ones that were cooperative enough to gather on one side of the coop. The ones up on the perch are the chicken chicks.  There is an obvious hierarchy going on already...

The kids have started school, which is going just swimmingly.  Although, Isabella was scheduled to see her dad this week and the boys are off hunting with their grandfather.  So it is the second week of September and we are already taking a week off... 

My lovely daughter has been taking riding lessons over the summer!  She still maintains that she wants to be a rancher when she grows up, and has even upgraded to saying she wants to take over our ranch when she grows up.  Learning to ride a horse is a good first step I suppose.  Currently, our only family-friendly horse is at our place in Merritt though,  Come fall, when we haul the herd back up here for the winter, Lewis will come with them.  

I got a job! Like a real live one with a pay cheque and everything! Which, come to think of it, may further inhibit my free time to post with any regularity.  There goes my resolution to become more reliable.  I have yet to actually start (my first day is Tuesday) so in anticipation of being completely unavailable to my family and the house work for 6 hours everyday, I have been making a mad scramble of catching up on my to-do list.  Though Mount Washmore is a never ending struggle, so I don't know why I bother? 

I suppose that about wraps up the last few weeks of our life.  I don't feel like anything particularly exciting has happened... I am starting to wonder if maybe I am becoming acclimatized?  The things that I would have previously found post-worthy are almost my normal condition now?  I feel like if anyone else's Partner would have shown up with 30 baby birds, it would have been note worthy... 

I have a good friend coming to spend some time with us this week, so maybe she will renew my enthusiasm a bit.  Give me a fresh pair of eyes to see my world with.  Aside from being really excited to see her, I am really excited to show off my life to someone!  I guess I still find my life pretty darn amazing!

Anyways, here are a couple photos I took this morning in anticipation of writing this post.  

One benefit of the cold weather, really crisp clear skies!






Tuesday 25 August 2015

Little Orphan Lamby

Earlier this spring we had a ewe sheep die of natural causes, no need to be alarmed; however, she left her tiny couple week old lamby behind.

At first I was kind of excited about the prospect of having this adorable, fluffly little thing to feed and take care of every day, but the responsibility eventually starts to wear on you.  So naturally, like good parents, we pawned the responsibility off onto the kids.  It was now "their" lamby...

A month or so old here. Isn't he adorable!?

By the time we went on vacation in July, Lamby was several months old and subsisting mostly on grass, so we figured it would be safe to put him back with the rest of the herd and hope for the best.  Sink or swim. Eat or die.

Spoiler alert, the lamb makes it.

Since then, we have moved the sheep to a field much nearer to our house and the prodigal lamby has taken it upon himself to return. He just shows up in our yard one day, demanding food.  Now we are bottle feeding him again and he has made himself quite at home. At night I think he returns to his regular flock but comes in every morning for his feeding and a couple pets.  If you show him any attention though, he follows you around, everywhere, Baaaaing away.  I was leading our guard dog back to her kennel and he is trailing right behind us, baaing  "Eat me, eat me! I'm adorable and tasty!"

Not the smartest lamb in the yard...

But it is pretty darn cute a sweet having this thing hanging around.  Plus he is always thrilled to see you!  Just start calling me Mary.

Isn't this just.. awwwee


Monday 17 August 2015

The Duckling Conundrum

We got Duckies!  I am super excited! Sort of... Well...

Okay, here's how it happened.

Partner #1 went to town unsupervised.  He's not going to appreciate that comment, however...  So when he came home and told us there was a surprise in the back seat my immediate reaction was "Noo not another puppy?!".  That might seem a strange reaction, who says "Noo!" when they see a puppy?! I do, because we currently have 12 and another may unravel my fragile mental state. But nope, not a puppy.

I open the back door, see a small-ish box, "Is it a kitten?!" Oh please oh please let it be a kitten! I like cats. I used to like dogs too but, nope.  Not a cat either.

Open the box, Oh my god it's ducklings! The 3 cutest damn ducklings you have ever seen!  All huddled up in the corner peeping in terror as this giant lady-thing grabs one of their siblings and hugs it close, practically shrieking "Oh my god! DuckIEEES! Oh they're so CUTE! Awwwwe!"

Now the double edge to this super cute sword is that we have absolutely no set up for ducks?! No predator proof pen.  No pond.  No flippin food! And really no idea how to take care of baby ducks whatsoever!

But gosh darn it, they are so cute!

So several weeks earlier, I had conveniently noticed a kiddie pool in our old barn (odd thing to find in a barn...), so we drug that out, filled it up with water and threw a calf shed over it with a heat lamp, which we happened to have from when our chickens were chicks.  Then promptly started researching duck care and maintenance.

We have had them for at least a couple weeks now and you know what I have learned about ducks? They stink! Like really smelly.  Especially when cooped up in a poorly ventilated calf shed with a heat lamp on 24/7 just fermenting the place... I am legitimately concerned about them developing respiratory problems.  They are going to be wheezing like senior citizen ducks before their 6 month birthday.

We have all the materials now to build a duck house and a wicked plan to make it super cool! Thanks to a plumber friend of mine, we even have a bathtub coming to convert to a pond! I had the genius idea of draining the tub on the downward slope of our yard onto a sort of tiered garden of fruit bushes.  Viola! Ultra fertilized irrigation system! Genius right?

It's okay to be impressed, I am impressed with myself!

Now it is just a matter of actually building the darn thing! Time is a high-priced commodity around here with very little of it to go around, let me tell you.

In any case, the ducks are doing really really well.  Despite their temporary accommodations, they seem to be super healthy, growing incredibly fast! In all my research I discovered a way to sex the little things, see whether we'll have laying birds or meat birds.  I'll spare you the details, but I did managed to discover that one is definitely female!  So yay!  Can't wait for duck eggs!

My plan was to write this blog when we actually had the duck house built, but I couldn't wait! I was too excited! The tub comes on Friday, so hopefully I can write an update post soon on the house building progress.

In the meantime, enjoy this terrible picture of me but adorable picture of this duck!

Also, that white thing to the right is a calf shed, in case you were wondering....


Thursday 30 July 2015

Memoirs from the Looney Bin

** I think this is one of the longest blog posts I've ever written.  I am not even going to apologize for it, as is my urge as a Canadian, because I read back through it, and I found it pretty hilarious.  So instead I'll say, you're welcome**

So recently we decided to take a family vacation, like crazy people... All 7 of our crazy circus plus 12 dogs.

Actually, it started out 7 humans, 12 dogs, and a bull and we came home with 7 humans (we double counted just to make sure), 10 dogs, a chicken, and 12 chicks... But we'll get to that part.

Partner #2's family was having a bit of a reunion so we decided to take the whole fam-dam-ly.  Make a do of it.  This thing was a camping trip reunion though and we didn't want to camp, so knowing that the kids were going to be disappointed, we scheduled plenty of other fun things in an attempt to lure them away from their family. (Wow that makes me sound like a kidnapper...)

Maybe I will just break our gong-show of a week down for you day-by-day so you may participate fully in the madness. I was thinking of ending this blog with a "And the moral of the story is..." but I think in reality this blog is going to be the introduction of the memoir I am going to write when I am finally admitted to a mental institution... Many more family road trip vacations, and that joke is not far from reality....

Day 1
Taking a vacation when you live on a ranch is damn near impossible.  Aside from all the animal's food and water needs, you have to make sure that their fencing is adequate enough that they wont escape when you are gone. Because really, who is going to fix that for you? We decided to take all but one of our dogs with us so she could guard the house, so fill up a giant dish of food and a trough of water, and check! dogs are taken care of.  Our biggest concern was our garden.  The same garden that we have had so much trouble getting started in the first place.  We finally get it to the point where it is all happy, and healthy, and producing beautifully, and we decide to leave it unattended?! Are we crazy?? If you hadn't gotten that impression by now then the answer is yes, yes we are.

So we asked our neighbour for the biggest favor ever.  After spending a substantial amount of money on irrigation equipment, we got our garden set up so that all one has to do is throw a switch inside the house and the whole garden is watered within an hour or so.  Seems pretty straight forward, but you are forgetting about the guard dog.  Our genius plan?  Prepackage frozen hockey pucks of ground beef for our neighbour to chuck at the dog while she makes a mad dash the short distance to our front door... Very Acme villain.  Like I said, biggest favor ever.

So we left the house, biting out nails, praying that our garden didn't dry up and die, our animals didn't escape and die, and our neighbour didn't get attacked and die.

Yay! Commence vacation! Let me just interject here with a little fact about myself:  Loud noises freak me out, well stress me out, set my anxiety a-fire lets say.  Not 2 hours down the road, I am having a major anxiety attack because 6 people and a dog crammed into 1 vehicle is more noise then I can handle. Partner #1 left the day before with his truck and stock trailer, a bull, and the rest of the dogs.

Partner #2's mom is the greatest. In a recent email to my friend I said "[Mother-in-law] loves me because I love her cooking, and love telling her how much I love her cooking, so she loves cooking for me".  So although I had just driven 5 hours and my nerves were completely fried, she saved my sanity temporarily with her awesome cooking. I'm so easy to please. 

Day 2
This was family reunion day.  This day held it's own unique blend of anxiety, because it was to be one of the first times we have really been out publicly as a weird poly family unit.  The fact that it was all family (some of whom openly don't approve) just added to the fun.

And in that regard it turned out alright.  Everyone was polite and friendly with nary a pitch fork or torch in sight.  I call that a win!  Though after we left, who knows?

The kids had the greatest time.  We had a hard time pulling them away, in fact. Pretty much every kid there had a bike or some sort of riding implement so they just bombed around everywhere, like a miniature biker gang.

Then it was back to Partner #2's mother's house for creamed spinach and some of the most amazing ribs I've ever had.  In all honesty, I think I could write an entire post on how much I love her food. Maybe I should write a sonnet...

Day 3
This day we had every intention of leaving Merritt early, and partaking in some fun in Kelowna.  However, Partner #1 had needed to get some work done at our ranch down there (part of that being dropping off the bull) and in typical ranching fashion every thing that could go wrong did.  So we didn't end up leaving until late, and only made it into Kelowna in time to show up at our friends house for dinner.

Now imagine rolling up at your friends house, which is built for 4 people to live snuggly-buggly, with 7 people, 9 dogs (because we were down to 9 at that point), your mini van, and your miniature semi truck and 30 foot stock trailer...

I was really hoping at that point that they knew what they were getting into.

Day 4
If you have been reading my blog for a little while you may have come across my post "When Roosters Attack!", and so you may be aware of my lack of fondness toward the male poultry breed.  Well our friends "rooster situation", lets call it, has kind of gotten out of control.  I believe it is just because they haven't gotten around to dealing with the unwanted things as of yet. Which, whatever, we all get busy.  So four am every morning 8 or 9 roosters start having a macho cock-o-doodling pissing match, trying to outdo each other, until the long hours of the morning/early afternoon, everyday...

By the time we left the next day, Partner #1 was offering to shoot, slaughter, and gut all of them. He is such a generous man.

It was also Partner #1's birthday and we met up with his parents to celebrate in a pretty awesome park in Kelowna. Following this, we managed to pawn off the baby with the Grandparents for the duration of our trip, which I would later come to realize, was a god send.

That afternoon was when the magic happened, my favorite part of the trip anyways.  The part where we left all the kids with our friends kids and went on a wine tour!  It even started off at my favorite winery from the days when I lived there. Five adults, all half cut, playing tourist, it was perfect.  We followed this up with a really delicious Mediterranean dinner and then a soak in the hot tub. Perfection right?

Day 5
We took our show on the road again.  Left our friends to recover.  I felt like we came in, dropped a bomb, and then left.  We should have left the box of wine we acquired on our tour as a consolation prize...

Instead of them getting a parting gift they actually gave us one - a whole dog kennel full of chicks, and one hen on loan! With all those roosters around, our friends really did not need any more chicks.  We wanted more but really don't have the set up for them, but we aren't ones to turn down anything free. So into the van they went! Sure made for a cacophonous drive home.

And we went to the waterslides!  I learned something new about Partner #1 as well; apparently, he is a watersliding machine!  He was putting our kids to shame, just nonstop go-go-go! It was pretty awesome.

A little piece of advice for your future watersliding adventures, follow the rules!  I have discovered that their rules are not arbitrary, they are implemented on a basis of experience. If the signs say you must remove your eye wear before riding the slide, you should probably remove your eye wear.

I can offer this advice because I spent half of day 6 of our vacation acquiring replacement glasses after scoffing at the rules and promptly losing my eye wear... The water park employees were nice enough to shut down that particular slide and allow me to search to no avail (Kind of hard to search when you can't see!) and when I mentioned to the life guard "I never thought that actually happened in real life!?"  he said it happens damn near everyday... Serves me right for being cocky.

After the waterslides we made our way over to our friend and fellow sheep farmer's house for a night.  For probably a year and a half now, this friend has been talking up a sushi place in one of the smallest and dingiest towns I know.  Needless to say I have been a little skeptical, but he did say that if we were ever there he would prove it to us.  So not 5 minutes after we arrived, Partner #2 and I were in his truck, having left all our exhausted kids and Partner #1 behind, to go try out this amazing sushi place.  And oh my god it was good.  So good.  Since moving to Quesnel I have more or less given up on finding a half decent sushi place. Whereas once upon a time, top notch sushi was almost a weekly occurrence for me, it is now a treat enjoyed maybe once or twice a year. So having my yearly sushi treat be so unexpectedly fantastic just added to the treat-factor.

Another piece of advice I can offer because I have experienced it, if you ever get a chance to try Goma-ae, do it. Don't ask questions, just trust me.

Day 6
Spent the morning emptying my bank account for a new pair of glasses and visiting old friends.  Then back tracked, picked up the family and headed home.  We met Partner #2's mom in Kamloops to get our baby back, who was thoroughly convinced that we were going back to Grammy's house or oddly enough, the water park. No amount of trying to explain would weaken her resolve and periodically she would scream GRAMMY HOUSE!! or WATER PARK!! for the entire duration of the drive home.

By the time we got to Williams Lake, so about an hour from our house, I think she finally started to realize that refusing to believe something isn't true, doesn't make it any less true and she proceeded to have a level 9000 melt down.  I'm talking on a scale of 1 to Chernobyl, she was Fukushima.

Needless to say, we were all very happy to get home.

Once we got home, we took stock of the place and watered everything that looked a little droopy.  Our garden looked great, sheep stayed in their pen, only a couple things died, and our neighbour is still in one piece! Pretty successful as far as I am concerned.

So all-in-all I suppose it wasn't that bad, maybe not on the brink of being committed bad; however, I do want to make mention that I left several things out in an attempt to not sound like a complete grumpy, old, vacation ruining, wet rag.

Now I am home, in my own bed, there are no roosters competing to be top cock out side my window, and I have a box of various wines to bring me back to sanity!

That's how all family vacations should end - with an abundant supply of alcohol.




Tuesday 30 June 2015

And We're Off to the Rodeo!

You know, I've discovered that I really quite like the rodeo.  That's not something I ever thought I would say.  Ever. But I really do. It's pretty exciting, and fast paced, and sometimes really intense! I never ever understood baseball or basketball, or god help me, football.  As a spectator, they are all so slowwww and boring. But rodeo is just one awesome thing after another, bam, bam, bam. And if there is a lull there are cowgirls and rodeo clowns to keep you interested. The eye candy ain't too bad either...


Last year my daughter was having a serious crises of identity, clearly unsure whether she fit in in the redneck culture.  This year she decided she wants to grow up to be one of those cowgirls who gets dressed up in the shiny glittery shirts and belts and rides around the arena with a flag.  Lofty life goals that one.

Seriously unimpressed with the noise


I could regale you with a play-by-play of what went down that day, but if your not there it's really not nearly as exciting as it is in person.  Partner #1 watches the National Rodeo finals every year and it just doesn't hold the same weight. You don't get the crowd, the noise, the atmosphere, and the "Holy Crap! Did you see that!" you do when you're there in person.  I am sure there is someone sitting there reading this laughing at me, because I sound like a complete yuppy.  Yes, I am lame.  Yes, I am aware.


Also, I had an observation about the wide spectrum of spectators present. Maybe more of a theory?  Basically rodeo goers break down into three categories: 1) You have your Average Joes, who are obviously just there to enjoy the atmosphere and the spectacle. 2) You have your out-and-out bedecked, bedazzled rodeo goers who look like they went to the nearest costume shop and picked up what they think rodeo stars wear.  3) And then you have your try-too-harders.  These are the girls in the cowboy boots and miniskirts/cut offs.  These are the boys with their jeans tucked into their artificially shiny boots, in their plaid button ups, obviously sweating their butts off because they are completely unaccustomed to wearing actual cowboy regalia. 

The clear observation I made, aside from the categories, is that the ones in the bedazzled costumes are the ones who are actually authentic! They are the ones who probably know their way around a horse and could tell you the difference between a bull and a steer.  It's the try-too-harders who are trying too hard to look authentic that come off as complete wankers. It was very strange indeed. 

Obviously, it's not a science.  But seriously, if you get a chance to go to a rodeo, take a look around. Observe your fellow rodeo goers, and you will see, I am not entirely crazy. 


I shared this theory/observation with Partner #2 who pointed out that there is also a distinct difference between actual working cowboys and rodeo cowboys. You learn something new everyday! Also! Did you know there are ranches out there solely dedicated to producing animals for the rodeo!?  The meaner the better apparently.  How do you breed for meanness??  Actually, maybe I don't want to know that....



In other news, we had a miniature version of our tadpole party.  Still 14 kids were there! It was pretty great.  Unfortunately though, since our neighbours and local friends are in the dark about our family configuration (as far as we know), I can't post any pictures from the party.  It's not like I can ask permission to post pictures of their kids on my blog and then refuse to tell them what the blog is about lol.  Oh the joys of cultural ostracism! But we busted out the kayaks and had a table full of containers and butterfly nets and the kids had a blast. 


And that was basically it for this last week.  Currently, Isabella is in Vancouver visiting family, and tomorrow the rest of the family is going to a big Canada Day celebration in the park.  For the most part it will be a quiet week, which is just what I need right now. 


Tuesday 16 June 2015

Wicked Cool Natural Entertainment

We have several creeks running through our property, one of them is a man-made dyke running straight through the middle of one of our fields.  For the last couple of summers Partner #1 has built a sandbag dam to flood the field in order to irrigate it.  Super fascinating, I know, but what that means for us is that we have this awesome 2-foot deep pond totally chalk full of tadpoles and frogs, as well as our insect friends like dragon flies and water skitters! There are several places where you have to be careful where you walk so as not to squish hundreds of little tadpoles!

Last year the kid's grandparents bought each of them a kayak to use in the ponds and they have taken to using them as tadpole collectors.  They also got some butterfly nets recently and have had much better luck catching frogs now too.

Really, it's about the coolest thing ever. I often find myself envious of our kid's awesome childhood. How awesome is it that they get all this wicked cool natural entertainment to enjoy!? Who needs a play ground when you have a pond!

Oliver's head for proportion 
One of a million clouds of tadpoles

Using her shoe to catch frogs....



What a weirdo


We are planning a pot luck "Tad Pole Party" here soon and inviting a lot of the local kids and some of our fellow home school families to come armed with butterfly nets and buckets, and we'll just spend the afternoon catching critters and kayaking and splashing, all the while teaching our kids about ecosystems and frog metamorphosis like the true geeks we are....

Admit it, you're jealous.

Saturday 30 May 2015

Our Cursed Garden

So we have had some bum luck when it comes to our garden at this place. The previous owners of this place didn't have your standard garden set up, they built mounds, long strips of raised dirt. Apparently, this enables you to plant a couple weeks earlier then your neighbour because your plants are slightly up out of the cold lower ground.  But by the time we got around to planting our garden the first time, the soil was really rather dusty and depleted, and so much of our water ran off the mounds and our plants were kind of stunted.

Not that that really mattered because that first year the sheep got in our garden and mowed everything down! We waited and waited for the sheep to be moved to a different field so we could put our started plants in the ground until we couldn't wait anymore.  And of course they got eaten. And then because we put everything in so late, what didn't keel over and die from the sheep was stunted and never reached maturity!

That was year 1.

This year, we cajoled and pleaded and whined and dug our own post holes (Post Hole Champion, right here!) and managed to put a fence in! Well part of a fence.... enough that nothing can get in our yard anyways, and it's the greatest! We even expanded the beds, put in a few extra ones, brought home loads of started plants (because the yard is sheep proof now!), got experimental with some planting techniques, filled or herb garden to the brim and wouldn't you know it hailed, twice in two days....






If your not an avid gardener, hail equals death to gardens.  We started a whole bunch of melons several weeks back, all excited that we could put them in on time this year and actually yield some fruit, and they are all destroyed. Our giant rhubarb leaves look like Bonnie and Clyde's get away car, completely full of holes.

And this wasn't small chunks of hail, these were huge, marble sized.  I realize that there are bigger out there in the world, but I don't know that I have ever seen bigger (Cue sexual innuendo...) Standing at the window watching the spectacle and it was like someone was throwing snowballs at us.  Chunks of our roof came off! I half expected to see chips taken out of my windshield...

                                             


Our poor Balou took shelter under the truck but the water puddled underneath.  So she managed not to get pelted, but still got soaked.

The weather forecast never said anything about hail.  It is predicting storms for the next 3 days, so we may have more hail to come.  I don't even want to go outside to try to assess the full extent of the damage until this string of storms has passed.  There are several things out there that we are certain are destroyed, but there may be some things that survived. We still have peas and kale and sweet potatoes to put in too. At least we'll have those!

Maybe next year will be our year! Then again, maybe there is a curse on our garden...?

Tuesday 12 May 2015

Post Hole Champion

I feel like I have entered into a whole new level of redneckery.... I dug post holes, like for putting in fence posts. Did you know there was a name for it? And guys, I feel like I have found my calling. Seriously, I am really good at it! My hands might be covered in blisters and may not ever relax out of this claw seizure, and my back may be in a permanent hunch, but it was worth it!  Looking down at your shovel that has disappeared down a 4 foot hole only as wide as your foot is long, is oddly satisfying.... I did that. I dug that awesome hole. I am sure I felt like this at some point in my childhood.

We are putting in a fence around our yard. Last year, we couldn't plant our garden until mid June, because the lambs kept getting in and eating everything! So most of our crop were these sad little stunted things. We even had watermelon which made a valiant effort, but the first frost got them before they could really get anywhere. This year however! We started a bunch of our plants indoors ahead of time and we're putting up a fence. I cannot wait for things to really get going. It is going to be so nice having a real garden this year!

Just a little tidbit, did you know people round here measure the depth of the snow by how high it reaches on the barbwire fence?! "Geeze, Snow got 2 strands deep this year".  If there were a redneck dictionary, you would find that in there....

This post is just a little quicky. Mostly I just wanted to share how proud I was of my new found career choice.  I held myself back from taking pictures though. I couldn't imagine looking down a deep dank hole being as interesting for you as it definitely is for me.... However, I did take these handful of gems I thought I would share!






Monday 4 May 2015

An Atheist at a Christian Conference

As some of you know, (unless this is your first time here, in which case welcome!) we home school our kids.  If your thinking to yourselves "Why ever would you do that!?" check out my past post Home schoolers? What are ya, Hippies?

So this last week, we packed up our gongshow and headed down to the Okanagan for the Christian Home Educators Conference (CHEC). No, we are not religious.  Until this last year, there was a huge homeschooling conference down in the lower mainland but due to some lack of interest from vendors and volunteer shortage, they didn't put one on this year, which was a real shame.  So that left us with the only other option in BC, which just so happened to take us to my old hood! Ya win some, you lose some, I guess.

Just a little history on myself, I have extensive experience with organized religion that has caused me to very strongly believe that it is not for me, at all, not even a little bit.  In fact, I have a very healthy critique of the whole institution in general.  However, not all my experience was negative, I met and have remained friends with some really remarkable and good people. Because of this history I found it incredibly difficult to remain objective during this whole conference, and I had to walk out of one seminar because of how wildly offensive it was, but I did manage to glean some wisdom in the end and actually found myself enjoying the keynote speakers.

We went down a day early and stayed with some family in Merritt who very kindly agreed to take 3 out of 4 of our kids for the weekend! Coincidentally, it was my Grandmother and Uncle's birthday that weekend, so I happened to have a lot of family out that weekend and my lovely cousin offered to take Isabella for the weekend too! Woo hoo! A weekend free of children?! For 2 whole days?! And it isn't even Christmas yet!

Despite being a vacation of sorts the whole weekend was a complete whirlwind of conference, seminars, and more then a few "Did he really just say that?!".  Followed by late nights catching up with old friends and family, and really early mornings making sure we took full advantage of the continental breakfast at the hotel.

To finish off our time in Kelowna, Partner #2 and I went to my family's house to celebrate my grandmother and uncle's  birthdays! It was the first time many of my family had met Partner #2 so that was .... nerve wracking. But I think things went well. My beautiful cousin was trying out for the Canadian paralympic sitting volleyball team so several of us went out before dinner to help her practice. (Since that night, I might add, she went to her auditions in Montreal and totally made it on the team! Brazil 2016! Congrats Tessa!)

We spent the next 2 days in Merritt recovering and visiting. I think I spent the majority of the time sleeping as much as I could. And then it was back home, back to reality. Back to milk cows, and chickens, and not-started gardens, and school, and for me more job searching...

Another little side story, on our way out of Merritt, we stopped at this really great little coffee shop/bakery called Brambles (I recommend it. If you do go, get a morning glory scone. Soooo good) and while we were there the lady behind the counter said she reads my blog! It was possibly one of the most flattering moments of my life! I couldn't believe that someone recognized me! And in typical Natalie fashion, I made a complete ass of myself, told her I was starstruck but starstruck for me... It doesn't even make any sense! I am groaning internally.

Anyways, this lovely lady at Brambles (Whose name I've since learned is Katie, because while making an ass out of myself I completely forgot to ask her name :/  Hi Katie!) she recommended another blogger who is utterly awesome and I endorse her completely. Her site is called Renegade Mothering and she is fantastic, witty, cynical, hilarious, sarcastic, and best of all r-e-a-l! If you are like me and you gag at all those "Children are the most wonderful blessing" posts, your love Renegade Mothering.

One more little update, our 1st milk cow Beullah had her calf on Saturday! A sturdy little heifer calf. I was thinking, since we have yet to name her, perhaps I should open up the comments section on this blog for name suggestions! Here's a picture to help you come up with some ideas :)




Tuesday 28 April 2015

Dolly Parton and Her Big Teets

We got a milk cow!  We had one before, her name is Beulah, but when we got her she was dry and needed a break from milking.  So we bred her this last summer and she is expected to calf any day now. But in the meantime we bought another milk cow, one that is producing milk right now! Although, when we bought her we weren't expecting to have to milk her... Apparently there is a discrepancy with what the term "dry" means to dairy men versus cattle men.  Or simply that it means two things and Partner #1 and the dairy farmer had their definitions transposed. When we asked if she was dry, we meant "is she producing milk?";  when they said dry, they meant she is not pregnant at the moment.  So we brought home a dry, not-dry Brown Swiss milking cow.... meaning she is making milk, but not currently making a baby... You keeping it straight?

So we got her home late one night last week, and as we loaded her off the trailer, we're standing around scratching our heads, hmmm, her bag looks kind of big...? (Bag is a technical term by the way. If your are also a mom like me, you may feel the twinge of mild indignant offense at hearing that term too. If you don't know the sign language for 'milk', you should look it up. When applied to breast feeding, it is also mildly offensive...But not in any serious way).  Turns out when we bought her, she was producing 15 liters of milk A DAY at the dairy farm! Unless you have a family of 20, and are a pro at making cheese, no one needs 15 liters of milk a day! All 3 of us, being complete amateurs, managed to get 4 L out of her that first night. But she needs to be milked twice a day, so we began collecting around 8 liters of milk every day.

So we named her Dolly.  After Dolly Parton.  Because she's got huge teets.... You have Partner #1 to thank for that gem.


Turns out when you have no idea what you are doing in that department, hand milking is a 2-3 person job. 1 person to milk, 1 person to hold the bucket, and 1 person to hold her rope.  It doesn't help that she had never actually been hand milked before, only machine milked, and because we didn't know what we were doing we were (/are) very slow, She started to get very impatient and probably a little sore. Poor thing. We have had to start hobbling her because she wont stop kicking and more or less dancing around, making things even more difficult then they already are.

What we have discovered about Dolly, is she is kind of a wing nut (again, technical term) and more or less like a big dog. We closed off a couple fences to contained her to our yard area and for the first little while just trotted around sniffing things! You almost expected her to lift her leg and start peeing everywhere. We guessed that she had never been on grass before, so she was like a machine just mowing the place down like it wasn't ever going to grow back again!

So then! Only a few days after getting Dolly, Partner #2 and I were due to leave on a trip to Kelowna and Merritt for a home school convention and to visit some family. Faced with the prospect of having to do a 3 person job by himself, as well as all the regular ranch chores plus the rest of Partner #2 and I's regular chores, Partner #1 decided that purchasing a couple of orphaned bull calves was a good idea! That way they would do the bulk of the milking, we can still get what we need when we need it, and for the duration of our trip, Partner #1 didn't have to worry about milking her every 12 hours.  So now we have 2 of the most adorable Jersey calves meandering around our yard. And the greatest thing is that they have both been bottle fed their whole lives, so they are super friendly and you can pet them, and their super curious and kind of follow you around.


The unfortunate part is that, true to ranch form, these two will be sold off more then likely to be made into meat, so naming them or otherwise getting attached to them is not highly recommended.  I learned this lesson the hard way this spring when I named our first lamb of the season and he ended up meeting a very unfortunate and horrible early death. As much as I would like to think I live on this happy, sun-always-shines, and nothing-ever-dies, Ole' McDonald farm, the reality is I live on a working ranch, where sometimes unpleasant things happen. However! Don't let that burst the warm and fuzzy bubble that I am sure reading about the happy little calves has cultivated! It is still pretty wonderful.

I realize this has been a rather long post. I feel like I haven't written anything in quite some time. Really nothing exciting has happened in quite some time, with the exception of this recent adventure to Kelowna, and the arrival of Dolly and calves. Lambs are popping out left, right, and center; the garden is soon to go in; calving is still in full swing. Same ole', same ole' I suppose.

Just a little side story, Partner #1 has a system where when a lamb is born, he spray paints the lamb (with safe livestock paint, don't worry!) with a number that matches the mom's ear tag number. That way it is easy to identify lost lambs, or to find the mother if she abandons it, or for just record keeping for next year. Anyways, last night we had one lone lamb born so I went out there to spay paint him.  This was my first time doing this by the way, so don't judge me, but I ended up holding the can way to far away from him, so now his whole right side is just one big red smudge.  And when I tried to paint his left side, I didn't do much better, although it is sort of legible. So I told Partner #1, if you see a lamb out there that looks like its been recently massacred, that one belongs to #43.... Against my better judgement, and perhaps to the lamb's detriment if you are superstitious, I named him Alfred Hitchcock.

Also, if you haven't had a chance, or just plain haven't yet, check out my last post, Meet Owen!, about my little cousin and his amazing family.


More things I've learned since moving to the ranch:
23) Even in cow town Williams Lake, if you go to Starbucks in cow sh** covered boots, you're going to get some looks...


Wednesday 8 April 2015

Meet Owen!

I want you guys to meet my cousin Stephanie, her handsome husband Peter and two adorable sons, Owen and Ollie. I realize that this particular post is not about my ranch life or even about polyamory, but I want to introduce you to this family because they are in need of a little bit of assistance. 


You see, Owen was born a fighter. He was not given a fair chance from the get go, but he is the toughest little man you will ever meet. Owen has no official diagnosis and his family is still waiting for further genetic testing, but a litany of birth defects still hinder Owens everyday life; such as, "a smaller than normal skull, a blocked nasal passage and small windpipe, one lung larger than the other, sleep apnea, obstructive apnea, a heart defect, bowel and urinary issues, and hip dysplasia".

Even still, now a bright eye'd, 4-year-old with a devilishly handsome smile, Owen is doing well and thriving. 


However enormous his struggles and successes have been, Owen and his family still struggle with some basic day-to-day things. Because he needs 24-hour care, Stephanie needed to quit her job limiting the income of her modest dairy farming family. As Owen gets stronger and bigger each day, his family wants to make his world more accessible for him. What that means for Owen's family is a wheel chair ramp for their house, a paved driveway for said wheelchair and a wheel chair accessible mini van. Even though some of the equipment needed for Owen's care is provided by the hospital, majority of the cost falls to his family to come up with. 

Recently Jessica Kerr of the Delta Optimist came to visit Owen and write a piece about him and his family. You can check it out here. 


Here is a link for a YouCaring fundraising account to help Owen's world open up for him.  As I write this $3,655 has been raised but their goal of $20,000 is still a long way off, so I urge you to take a look, donate if you can,  and please pass it on!

Thanks everyone!