A real buddy for Bear

I got a message last winter from the farm where Bear was born that she was having some more pups. I had planned on another chocolate pup for Bear but was thinking it would be when he turned about 3. We have always had two related chocolate boys and that is what we wanted again. I like knowing they have a real relative in their midst, and I really love these dogs from this farm. They have beautiful personalities and are raised with family love because they simply love labs. 

But after Muddy died too youmg-at age 9.5 from bone cancer- I just started thinking, what are we waiting for? I'm not getting any younger. We tried talking on another very old, blind pug last winter [sweet little Uncle Wally] and that experience also had us realize that right now, in our household, an older dog is not a good fit-with Officer Mittens and our pack. Besides, in case you haven't noticed, I bury a lot of old animals. I just wanted some youth, some hope and joy. So we decided on another lab pup. The more I worked with Bear, and played with him, I got excited about bringing home a buddy for him. Watching Bear this past year and a half try to play kick ball with The Goose and goats has been fun, he certainly isn't depressed, but I really started realizing I wanted him to have his very own little Bear.

The farm emailed me to tell me a litter was coming in April. I told her I only wanted a chocolate male. And if there wasn't one, it was not the right timing for a pup.  On the day of the birth, she emailed me a pic-there was only one chocolate male...so that was proof enough for me. We call him...Buddy. Such a common name for dogs, but it just seemed so fitting. So now Bear has a buddy, his very own Buddy.

If you want to follow along in photos of The Bear and Buddy Show follow us on Instagram. if you don't like an abundance of puppy pictures, you might want to avoid me for awhile. So far Buddy has met The Goose, and goats, and White Dog. Imagine all the new sounds he heard on his first day. And Bear is so happy. You can just see him looking at Buddy and thinking, "I finally got my little buddy I wanted."

One of te first things Bear did was bring out his beloved Mister Bubbles to show Buddy.  

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I couldn't help it! Pickles Power is Girl Power shirt!

I had to add this design to our Bonfire Tshirt shop [Bonfire helps non profits selling Tshirts, it is a great product and great customer support].

I made these in both adult and kid sizws. I think our young girls would like to wear Pickles Power too.

Yume dies a good death, but what does that mean to a human?

I often use the term 'good death", and I did again this weekend when i let my followers know that Yume, one of the first elder cats to be adopted in Maine, died at 19+. I found her, dead, in her little bed where she always sleeps, pretty much where I left her that morning. It was not unexpected. That morning she was weaker in her body and ate little, I held her and reminded her I had bought her that one way ticket, but there was no expiration date–she could leave when she wanted to. And she did. These are the picture of her as I found her and when my chores were finished I captured how Inky and Walter came to lie with her. They had said goodbye long ago.

What is a good death? As a human, i look at it differently than a cat. A cat just wants peace, comfort and to be on their own terms. They don't use the word 'struggle' but they want to be able to breathe, to not be stressed. So yes, I feel in cat terms Yume had a very good death and i was happy for her.

As a human, I see many people die, as do all of you. I often hear people say they want to die in their sleep, and there is merit to that. I recently heard a doctor on a radio interview say that while many say they want to die this way, usually the body has had a heart attack or stroke when a person dies this way. I am not sure if that matters if one is asleep. With animals, I've been able to witness many natural deaths, and other induced deaths. Generally the natural death is how I prefer to see Nature takes it course, unless their is true distress or pain or danger there will be sever trauma ahead without help. But I've also witnessed how it takes a body a long time to shit down when it is in the active process of dying.

But back to a good death. This same doctor brought up the beautiful words of Maurice Sendak in his last interview with Terry Gross. He was in his last months and was ready. But he talked about how age made him acutely aware of how much he loved life, and he talked about his beautiful trees outside his window. He didn't want to miss his trees but because he loved the beauty of Nature and the trees, each second he got was spent in awe and joy of the beauty of it. The doctor said that he felt that was the layered meaning of a 'good death'–when a person can live that moment, and every moment in the day in awe of what is around them, and also be aware they are going to die and eventually they do die. They die aware of the wonder of it all–that is a good death, to be ready, to have lived, lived, lived, lived.

"I have nothing now but praise for my life. I'm not unhappy. I cry a lot because I miss people. They die and I can't stop them. They leave me and I love them more. ... What I dread is the isolation. ... There are so many beautiful things in the world which I will have to leave when I die, but I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready." {Maurice Sendak months before dying}

New Work: Turtles Crossing the Road

"Turtles Crossing the Road" 20" canvas, acrylic.

Inspired by the land and essence of Apifera. Now available on my shop.

Pickles learns about the birds and bees [and lumps] from Earnest the pig

 

My latest from my monthly column "Tails & Tales of Apifera" for Lincoln County News

“Mrs. Dunn! Mrs. Dunn!” I heard as I opened the front door.

“Pickles, what is it?” I asked.

“It’s Marta! She’s sitting on her egg and won’t get up!” Pickles said, alarmed.

“Well, I suspect she wants to be sitting on her egg, Pickles. She is broody,” I said.

“What’s that?” Pickles asked.

It dawned on me that this was going to be one of those talks, the talk every adult must have with a youngster at some point, even if it is a little goat.

“She wants her egg to hatch into a baby chick,” I said.

Pickles’ mouth gaped open. She went screaming into the barn.

“Everybody! Marta is going to pull a chicken out of her egg!”

Pickles’ shouts woke up Earnest the pig.

“Pickles, did you not know chickens come from eggs? It is time you understand these things,” the pig said.

“How did the baby get in the egg?” Pickles asked. The barnyard gathered around Earnest, waiting on his every word.

This ought to be good, I thought.

“First, you need a lady chicken, and a man chicken,” Earnest began.

“I say, I say, that would be me, I am the man!” said the rooster. The hens rolled their eyes.

“The man chicken sits on the lady chicken, and magic sprinkles are spread in the lady chicken. Soon after, a baby pops out of her egg.”

“Can the rooster make me a chicken baby?” asked Pickles.

Muffled snickers were heard in the group.  “No, Pickles, you are a goat, so you need a boy goat,” said the pig.

Pickles turned around to look at Ollie, Jim Bob and Roscoe–who looked sheepish.

“Those chaps can’t help you, Pickles, they don’t have the right parts anymore,” Earnest said.

Now it’s really getting good, I thought.

Pickles looked confused.
Earnest went on, “Boys are born with lumps, and the lumps carry the magic sprinkles that goes in the lady to make the baby.”

“Do you have lumps?” Pickles asked.

“In fact, I do,” said the pig, and he graciously turned around so she could peer at his backside.

“Oh, goodness,” said Pickles.

“But Ollie and the other boy goats don’t have lumps anymore, they went away,” said Earnest.

“Where did they go?” Pickles asked.

Oh dear, I thought.

“They went to Lumpaland, where lumps are sent to live happily ever after, without their sprinkles,”  said Earnest.

Ollie and the boy goats rolled their eyes.

“But let’s just say Ollie did have lumps, how does he give me the magic sprinkles?” Pickles asked.

One of the old goats jumped in, and said, “He slow dances with you.”

“Or sometimes they do a quick jitterbug!” said Henneth the blind chicken.

“And then where does the baby come out?” asked Pickles.

“Well, between your legs, of course,” said Earnest the pig.

Pickles went screaming out of the barn.

Earnest followed her and put his arm around her. He consoled her, “Don’t fret now, no lumps will sprinkle you,” he said.

Slow stitching with the elder cats & Walter and I are in the in-between time

This week I took my threads out to the cat room and began taking a couple hours a day to slow stitch amongst the old cats. This is a very special time for me and Walter. 

Walter and I [and the other three remaining elders, all are 18-20] are in the in-between. He seems to be losing strength in his hind, which is very common when they get this old. I've seen it a million times. I've noticed that his bone structure in his face is shifting, more sunken as muscle is lost. It's been a few weeks since Lemon passed. While Walter had surely lost weight over the year like Lemon, Lemon was much thinner and clearly on his way in due time. In the past couple days I've seen something shift in Walter. He is not depressed or anxious or sad or ill. He simply seems the most content I've ever seen him, and the most bonded to me he has ever been. Our journey together has been so rewarding and we took our time to get here. 

Today he wanted to be with me, sitting on my stitching, then my lap. He got up a few times but always came back. If you had told me this would be our final part of the journey when he first arrived, feral and scared, I might not have gone along with it.

I think these moments we are having our the most beautiful and profound moments I've encountered for awhile. I had been feeling the muse provoke me over and over to take my stitching out to the cat room and kept forgetting or got busy with something else. But in the last few months there has been a shift in me too. I simply want to do the work I feel like at the moment and not feel any push to do something speciific for the shop. I still make my living this way, but these past months have felt more liberating. I don't know why.

Anyway, today I was thinking -did my muse urge me on to work in the cat room, or did Walter also urge me on, so we could be together even more in these final weeks or months that he has? Yume too is clearly transitioning and she too came and sat in my lap yesterday as I sewed-this is unheard of. She is tiny but now is very, very tiny, and pretty blind too. One can't predict the muse, but when it speaks, an artist learns to listen. If they can't follow the muse, they get all messed up and confused. And if you can't follow the muse you are probably in a part of your art career that is taking you on a certain path that you feel is necessary to make a living or grow a clientele. I'm glad I'm passed that part. I always played with the muse but it is really since I started my own shop and quit reps and galleries and focused on my writing too that things settled into what I have now. It wasn't luck. And it was a winding path. And I made some wrong turns.

I've decided that I like working out there, and I also like having fewer cats in the elder suite [we had 12 at one time and usually had around 8-10, but we are down to four, and they are all very old]. I think I will make it my slow stitch and sewing area. They get my time, I get their time. I think I'll take my sewing machine out there too.

{I post my art and stitching and creative work regularly on Instagram}

New work: The Mailbox in Spring

 

This canvas is now available at the shop.

There is something so hopeful about spring, things that come out of the ground, after being frozen all winter give one a sense that, for today, it is going to be fabulous. The little pussy willow blowing in the wind is the first sign of spring here. 

And the mailbox waits to give a letter to our mail woman...the mailbox, ready to embrace letters of love, news and support.

Beauty Parlor Day-healing for elders and equines [and me]

We had two of our elder friends out from Lincoln Home today, along with a caretaker and my equine helper. Our task was simple-groom the equines, and have fun making The Teapot girly for one day. Becasue these two women are able bodied we could work in the equine barn which was great becasue all the equines were there. I had Captain Sparkle tied up to work on his ground manners, and The Teapot was with him on a lead. Biggs didn't even need a halter, he stood and loved the attention and grooming. I had Boone tied in the paddock and he really loved the grooming too.

It was really fun. And at the end of an hour and a half one of them said she loved hearing all the stories being shared too. That was so true. I actually know one of these residents who lived near by when we got here aso it was really special to spend time with her, and we shared stories of past things.

We are going to make it a regular outing for these two women-both are starving for fresh air, touch and animals-one of them lived with horses so this is really nice for her.

It is fun doing these smaller intimate get togehters too for healing times.

And the equines loved it, especially Biggs. He truly, truly loves humans-somebody did something right with him at some point in his life. Sparkle was a spitfire but did fine. He needs to partake more like this and learn better manners but we all agreed-we adore him and his Beatle haircut! The Teapot was very good and stood pretty well, I think she was once doted on by her little girls before they grew up and wanted bigger horses.

I had to let her go...Joliet

 

If you follow us on social media you know sweet Joliet was leaping around in a video I posted on Friday, and on Saturday I found her foaming at the mouth with extended rumen. I assume it was frothy bloat [even though she had not eaten anything that usually causes this]. I doctored her with the right stuff. She improved slightly. I also noticed her neck felt very large leading me to think something was stuck in her throat. It was also Easter weekend. I was able to talk to my vet on Easter and she said I did the right things but was concerned it was not bloat, which should have dissipated after my treatment, and she did not like the sounds of the enlarged throat area.

So on Monday, nobody could come to me. I did not want to put Joliet through a 3 hour round trip drive to the vet, and said I would wait until Tuesday. But I felt pressure to go, so I went. I knew that all the things we talked about it 'might be' were non treatable. What was the point of putting her through a trip like that. That morning she was ok, but her breathing had changed, and her rumen was softer, which is good, but still large. She got up and walked around. I knew she was uncomfortable but she wasn't thrashing out. When I went to help her to truck, she cried-not in a typical pygmy drama cry [pygmy goats are huge drama queens!], but more in a distress cry. In the truck she did ok on the trip, only talking once or twice.

I was not thinking this would end the way it did. In fact, on the way up, I reminded myself not to feel pressure to do something I felt was not necessary. I like my vets. But out west, my vets treated me more like a farmer versus a pet owner. I feel sometimes, especially with llamas and goats and ruminants, there is too quick a "Time to euthenize"...and it can lead to feeling pressure. Sometimes, you can wait to long to put an animal down. Sometimes they are failing in a normal way, and they die peacefully, and sometimes not. It's a hard call sometimes. But most vets here seem to want the quickest end. I understand not wanting suffering, but a slower natural death can often happen.

But when we got her out of the truck into the working horse stall, my vet went right for her neck area. She immediately suspected lymphoma. This would also make sense that her rumen was still large, since the throat could not cough or get rid of the foam.

She cried when touched by them. I told them I thought the trip was stressful on her, that she was calm in the truck, but I did say her breathing was more labored for sure. Her temp had been normal but this morning it had gone down. 

We opted to do a throat and rumen xray. And blood work. We knew we might not have options once we saw the xrays but it might help in our understanding of what happened. As we started to do blood draw, she clearly was distressed. We decided to go right for the xrays and did those but she was anxious. When I held her she calmed but I was in the way of the xray paddles so could not assist [I did not like this!]. In the 20 or so minutes we were trying to get xrays and blood, she started declining. I was on the ground with her, cradling her head and body and at one point I felt her release and start to want to slump. She cried out-in a death like cry-they are different than a normal stress cry. I told my vet she was dying and she agreed. She got the medicne and we put her down.

I have mixed feelings about it. I wanted her to die at home. I did not want to drive her due to stress on her, but felt some pressure to do that. If I had not gotten her there [she was not as stressed at the barn] she might have gone through a bad death that night. Or she might have died that night on her own.

I know I did what I could. I was with her and she calmed everytime I held her. But I felt out of sorts.

On the way home, the words "death is life, life is death" kept coming to me. They are partners. Like the moon and sun and the wave and the shore-can't have one without the other. I got home and as I walked to the front gate, I saw her little hoof prints in the wet sand. It hurt. I was not ready. But in the end, when she got out of the truck and into the stall, I think she let go. I had told her on the way up we would make it better, and we did. I think she held it all in on the ride, and then let go.

But how she could be in a video on Friday night-I posted it on IG-and she is leaping like Pickles, with no swelling...and the next morning she was down and a day later she is gone...I just don't get it. How it came that fast-if that is what it was. I could have done an autopsy. I've done them before on sheep. They can give you hints but often don't tell you anything conclusive. I declined one and said I just wanted to get her home.

Pickles was there to greet me, and I said a solemn 'Hi Pickles." She kicked a tiny, quiet leap, almost symbolic of my feelings.

Feeling the sadness through the screen

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Today Was Facetime Friday. I decided to bring The Goose in...what could possibly go wrong? He stayed in Bear's play pen while Officer Mittens kept his eyes on him. He pooped a lot. He flapped his wings and preened. One woman was worried he was sick due to his wrinkled feathers. We discuss the inside's of a goose bill and how they can really hurt you if they need too.

 I felt the sadness and 'worn outness' of my elder friends at Cove's. They are once again in a 2 week 'can not gather, no visitors' place due to a staff positive test. I just felt we, they, are all drained from staff to residents to onlookers. We talked about how it all seems to go in starts and stops, this recovery. My main gal friday was off today so Amy, my second in command gal friday, did a great job. Since they could not gather in groups, she walked the halls and we visited that way. I got to see some familiar faces I had not seen for a year...including Earnie. I also learned of two passings I did not know about. Everyone is just tired. How can they not be, if I'm tired of it how must it be for them?  One gentleman had just moved in and was not happy, how or why would he be? He wanted someone to help him speak to someone-it was out of my realm and it made me feel upset for him, or anyone in that situation.

I am not sure if seeing a goose in a tiny phone screen helped. I feel sadness.

I am going to think of something to drop of for residents next week, and staff, to lift their spirits.

Tom Waits and me...in the studio today

 

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A post shared by Katherine Dunn / Apifera Farm (@katherinedunnapiferafarm)

Thankful for all of you!

{March 31 Update: We are up to $4200- so grateful, thank you!}

Just a quick update that we are up to $2500 raised for the $5000 Spring Fundraiser Goal. Once we reach our goal, a very generous matching donation will be sent our way for another $5,000.

Raising money is an ongoing challenge for any non profit and while I am the pilot of the aircraft here in all fundraising, I can't do it without all of you-all of you, the ones who send $10 when you can, the ones who send parts of their stimulus checks, the ones who send thousands or jump right in when a need arises.

I try to make the fundraising fun, with thank you's from the animals and such...but it is all hard work and effort. But here's the thing, I love doing it because I love my work and I love that I get to do what I am doing. I won't ever take it for granted. And while we don't do this 'for money' [we take no salaries], raising money is a validation of our efforts and work here.

So thank you to those who have given so far!

Help us get this $5,000 matching donation!

 

Our Spring Fundraiser is active, and if we make our goal of $5,000, we will be given a matching $5,000 donation from an Apifera follower [who wishes to remain anonymous].

 

Visit our facebook page to donate. Facebook pays all the processing fees for you, so 100% of your donation goes directly to the nonprofit.

  

Two of these 20" prints will be given to two of the donators of the Spring Fundraiser. Anyone who has already donated will be included in the drawing. We do it very scientifically-if your donation is up to $100 you get your name in the bucket once, if you donate up to $200 your name is put in the bucket twice and so on and so on. Then Pickles or someone pulls out the names. 

We are up to $,300. So help us reach $5,000 so we can get that matching $5,000 donation

Here is the direct link so you can share with friends. https://www.facebook.com/donate/311007570738104/

Thank you!

Lemon lets go...but we are happy for him

If you follow social media Apifera, you already know that Lemon died Sunday. I entered the cat suite that morning and Walter was at the door but Lemon was not in his normal place and out of site. 

I knew. 

The day before I was holding him and Walter came over as usual to be at my shoulder-I told Walter that Lemon was going to die soon-his feet were cold and his ears too. I sang a little of that old James Taylor song “so close your eyes you can close your eyes it’s alright...you can stay as long as you like.” I asked Walter to help Lemon feel it was safe to let go. I figured it was days not necessarily hours. He was so thin though.

I'm actually happy for him. The fact he was able to open up more in the last month -partly due to transitioning but also because I do feel he gave in. The fact I could hold him and be with Walter-that was a gift to me. He gave me all the gifts in the last month. He had a very, very strong spirit to have continued to live in his body like that.

I think I might write a story about Lemon and Walter at some point. The old grumpy man letting go, the scared one finally accepting touch...to be touched like he was in the last weeks, to sit with Walter in my lap...I feel it was a gift for him, but also for me of course. But to have held out all those months [since May 2019] and not allow me to touch him, to hiss each time-the energy that took must have worn on him].

Walter is fine. He is actually doing things he didn't do when Lemon was alive. he is coming tot he door more to greet me, he wants to ride on my shoulder all the time, he jumps off his perch to be on the table while I prep food, he comes to the window to look in while i am in the feed room. he seems lighter and happy, and very much bonded to me. He too is getting thin, nothing like Lemon, but I try to keep the weight on but he is 19.

Someone on IG asked me if I had ever written about the fact many of the animals here die naturally. I wasn't sure how to answer, and didn't [I have learned in the past years of social media it is not my job to answer all the questions posed, and I don't anymore]. There was nothing wrong with the question. The fact is, many animals here are helped on their way with a vet. Every caretaker has a comfort level. My feeling is I want the animals to die naturally if they are not suffering. I have seen suffering, when a vet can't get there, it is not pretty and very upsetting. I have done things I didn't think I could do but when we farmed I learned a lot about death, transitions and what is humane and what isn't. Some people think a bullet is more humane than euthanasia for livestock or equines. In some ways I agree-if it is done properly- and sadly some people I've seen boast about it on social media are not those I'd allow to do it but they think they do it just fine [anyone that has a dying lamb but has to tie it to a tree, and then shoots not one properly placed bullet, but FIVE into that little lamb does not know what they are doing].

With the old cats, the stress of taking one to the vet in my opinion is often way too much stress. I regret taking two of the old cats in to the vet when I knew they were dying. One of those cats did die, with me, at the vet, but he had to go through a night in a cage there. I felt pressure to take him, due to living so openly online. But I wish he had died like Walter. I have taken old cats in- like Big Tony-he needed help, and he was 20. Mister Mosely was able to sleep most of his final days and died with me peacefully. So it is not that I am against it, it is simply on a case by case situation. And of course, things can go wrong quickly. I know people that rush to the vet when a cat has the sniffle-that is their right and their comfort level and their budget, I have nothing bad to say about that. I just approach on a individual basis.

Lemon, I did my best, and I also know you did your best, and I am glad you could just be yourself and do things in your own way.

Sergeant S. Biggs makes hs therapy debut

Sergeant S. Biggs made his first therapy gig yesterday and he now has a new group of friends from Lincoln Home. He was quiet, gentle and everyone loved him-I am so happy for him. I brought him out, along with The Teapot and Captain Sparkle, and Harry. The goats came out later. I wasn't sure if I was overdoing it this first time with the equines, but my volunteer, a horse person, stood with Biggs while I made sure the others were behaving [Captain Sparkle needs some manners work!].

It was a beautiful 50+ degree day, and about 8 people came, many I've met many times with Harry. It was so fun...really lovely people. One of the woman is new to the residence and is someone I know, and she had a horse some years ago. She really misses being outside and active-so I handed her the lead to Captain Sparkle. I know she got some calm, normalcy and fun from that, and a feeling of being needed too. One of the hardest parts of this transition for elders is losing their purpose, or their independence...and their home.

I'm excited for the equines to help out with therapy and the outer barn will play a role in that...So stay tuned.

For now, I am just happy that Biggs not only gave love, he got love-he clearly enjoyed the grooming and touching. I don't want an animal to be forced into this role. Some are born healers, some aren't, and some never evolve into it. Some aren't necessarily healers [like Pino or Opie] but are definately more in tune with human emotions than others.

I wills say this, I really, really missed Opie yesterday. When I let the goats out, they normally run into the orchard and it makes every laugh and smile. But they were a bit wary of all the animals. Opie would have sauntered in to see everyone, as would have old Sophie. 

Next visit we plan to spend a lot of time braiding Captain Sparkles thick mane. He really needs more work at standing still, and not using his little lips to indicate he wants to leave. He sure is a little pistol. Teapot did fine, I think she actually likes the attention more than one would assume from her spunky sass.

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A very special birthday cake for Mrs. Dunn

{My latest monthly "Tails & Tales" column for The Lincoln County News}

 “Mrs Dunn! Can I borrow some flour?” asked Pickles.

My imagination went wild...are they making paper mache? Lord help us.

“Well, how much flour?” I asked.

Earnest the pig yell from the barn, “Two and a half cups!”

“I’m afraid I’m almost bare,” I said.

“It’s okay, we can substitute mashed pig pellets!” Earnest yelled in.

My instincts kicked in and I grabbed a rake and pretended to tend to the newly unfrozen leaf pile near the barn.

“How many eggs do you need?” asked Mary, one of the hens who had begun laying regularly with the longer days.

“Six,” said Ollie.

“Oh my, I’ll have to get some from The Secret Sisters then,” and she strutted off to the coop.

“Make sure you are reading it correctly, Ollie,” said Aunti Bea, one of the elder lady goats. “Baking is a precise science.”

“Six eggs it says, but only the whites, and it says we have to whip them into stiff peaks,” said Ollie.

Earnest put a bucket down with watered down pig pellets. “Ok, now we put the butter in,” he said.

“We don’t have any butter,” said Pickles.

“It will just be crumbly without the butter,” said Earnest. “But now we need to put the milk in.”

“We don’t have any milk,” said Pickles.

“Milk is just a liquid to hold it all together,” said Earnest. “We can use water.”

The Goose stepped in and offered his bath water out of his rubber dish.

“Thank you, Goose, that will work,” said Earnest the pig.

“We have to add suger, “ said Ollie.

“We don’t have any suger,” said Pickles

“Granite dust will be a good substitute,” said Earnest.

I took my leave to go to the mailbox and upon returning they had a bucket full of mixed liquid with floating pig pellets.

“We didn’t add the salt. Or the baking powder,” said Ollie.

“It won’t matter,” said Earnest.

“Put in a pan and bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes,” said Ollie.

“We don’t have an oven,” said Pickles.

They all looked at me.

“No, you are not using my oven. May I ask what you are trying to make,” I said.

“It was your birthday yesterday and we wanted to make you a cake,” said Earnest. “Would you like to taste the batter instead?”

“Well thank you for this loving gesture, but I want to share it with you, help yourself,” I said, and Earenst dumped the bucket of goop and they ate it right up.

“How old are you, Mrs. Dunn?” asked Pickles.

“Pretty old, I think,” said Ollie.

“I’m 63,” I said.

They all gasped.

“63! That’s really, really old!” said Ollie. “Do you feel alright, should you sit?”

“I think turtles can live that long,” said Earnest the pig.

“I’m not dying, I’m simply turning a new number,” I said.

“It sure is a big number though,” Pickles said.

“The moon is billions of years old and it seems fine to me,” said Ollie.

New canvas

This piece, like most, went through many transformations, but I finally settled on this and am pleased with it. 

I often post progress photos on IG, mainly for myself so I can look at them on one screen. 

"Prayer Flags and Rain Clouds", 36" x 24" x 1, canvas.

Pickles' pickle and we enter busy-busy season

Yesterday we did major spring clean out of goat barn, taking out the deep bedding I use in winter to help with warmth. I take it all out in spring to help with lice. So I timed it so I'd clean it all out, about 2 hours of time, and then we could rush to feed store to get summer bedding...on arriving back at farm, there were some very familiar looking wide short bodies rushing back inside the enclosed fence...

meaning they were outside the gate.

The slider door had not latched-we've been having trouble with it. Martyn has since fixed it but I nearly died seeing them out of their protected area. Fortunately they went to the back of the barn and not 100 feet out to the busy road.

All is well.

Upon reentering the barnyard, I caught this picture. Pickles looks extremely proud of her recent pickle, don't you think?

I'm spending today getting new bedding in. It works great for the pigs and is fresher and cleaner. We put about one inch of equine bedding pellets down, which will crush over time, and then top it off with about 5 inches of cedar dust. I was never a fan of sawdust in equine stalls, seems in cleanup you lose a lot of it. But this works great and last well all winter with the three pigs. The biggest mess maker is The Goose who insists on bathing in the water and it gets all over. I've tried so many ways to aleviate it but nothing works perfect. Anything to keep The Goose happy though, right?

I'll also be doing spring shots and deworming for the goats this coming week or two. I don't do the horses but do all my own maintenance on goats. Feet trims too will be done. 

 Martyn's been splitting wood all day. Got another cord out of fallen wood from last summer.

So we enter the busy time-spring...shots, annual horse tests and vet care,  sheering of llamas and sheep, spring shots and garden and barn yard cleanup. We are still trying to get vaccinated and someone gave me an insider tip on getting into Walgreens so I will try that this week. We are pre-registered in hospital and they hope that will happen by end of month. I hope many of you have been able to get vaccinated. I am envious each time I see a friend getting it done, but happy for them too.

Age is a daily platform to launch from

I turned 63 yesterday. I have t say it was a really special day. I awoke to the smell of bacon and found that Martyn had made me a piece of bacon and cut it into pieces and shaped it like a heart. I found this so simple and sweet. Best birthday card ever. 

The progressed, beautiful weather, took a long walk with Bear, heard from old friends...and then at 11 my elder friends from Cove's Edge had planned a special birthday Facetime with me. I knew they had something up their sleeves, and they did. They all had on Harry shirts! But it gets better, the shirts were actually sent to them as a surprise by one of my many loyal and kind followers. I was so touched. It really made my day. They are like family to me now. It takes a lot of effort for my contact their to gather them all and get the computer set up right too, so I just love it.

We are trying to get vaccinated, that would have been the final gift, but it will happen as more vaccines are made available. They say it was one year ago we went into lock down. We are moving forward, I have hope for the first time in many months.

If you are lucky enough to have a roof over your head, health, and an income, and love, aging is freeing to the mind, at least it is for me. But I have my health. I think working with the elders, seeing how some people end up in the final years, it makes me appreciate each day of freedom even more. I saw an article recently about how more and more people are living to 100. I have absolutely no desire to live to 100, or even 90. I just don't. I am finding that the internal 'shoulds' we taunt ourselves with in our younger years [i.e. I should do more art today, I should lose 5 pounds, I should this and that] are dissipating. It doesn't mean I am not vibrant, curious or ready to take on new things, it simply means I set my pace and don't get riled about what you or others thinks or want. I always did, but I'd drop everything to take on an illustration project that was strictly for money. I don't have to do that now. I still work hard and get my deadlines met, but it is less hectic. I've worked hard to get to this point-25 years of learning curves and lng hours. I still have to make money but we spend wisely allowing us to live in this little house and live comfortably.

But I was thinking about the number thing. We get all consumed with the number on the scale, the number of steps, the number on the birthday...all the ramifications of those numbers are really set by others. Take weight...I have always been more than the range they drum into your head [especially as girls and women]...always. I gained weight after menapause, about 15 pounds, and then another 5. I took 14 off, and gained 4 this winter. So now I'm even more over the weight guides. But I read this great article the other day about instead of counting calories or points, just learn to listen to your body. If you eeat natural foods, your body will tell you what it wants. If you eat sugars and processed foods your body will crave them. I find this to be true. And the point of the article is, so what if you eat naturally, and not manically, but eat when your body tells you to eat...who says that number on the scale is not right for you.

It was sort of freeing for me. Working with the elders, I know what is important than my slight weight gain and larger girth...it is that I can walk, bend, dance, move, ride my horse, and be independent. That is the focus of each day now. Each day is a launching pad to be free, do what I love doing, give back to my animals and elders, make art or write. it has nothing to do with my age or the number on the scale or the number some group of doctors on a web site say I should be. 

 

 

Spring=Miracle and Nature moves to the right=horse language

I am enjoying the first day this year where I could sit in the garden soaking up sun without a winter coat. Glorious. I was thinking how Spring really is symbolic of a miracle, isn't it? You just can't believe anything can grow again, then today I saw the first tips of daffodils. Spring was glorious out West, as a Minnesotan I loved spring there as it started [in my Minnesota mind] in November. But there is something almost miraculous about spring in a colder climate. I'm really excited for the warmer temps this year, more so than ever I think.

We are trying to get vaccinated as they lowered the age requirement. It's frustrating but things are moving in the right direction. I am anxious to get some one-on-one equine therapy sessions going. Sergeant S. Briggs is doing fine. He finally figured out that Arlo won't kill him so he now goes to the water bucket. I was carrying water to him twice a day to make sure he drank but now have seen him venture in like  brave chap to drink. Step by step. He still pushes others away to eat hay, which is fine, in time he won't. He is very gimpy on the front right leg with arthritis, making it hard to turn away fast. I think his initial days with Boone made the leg sorer, he was pawing and doing gelding territorial stuff and it probably made it flare up.

A horse friend was sharing some teaching of the Cheyenne. All nature moves in circles and to the right. By moving to the right we are in balance with Nature. She shared how if you want a close relationship with a horse you have to build trust on the right side..horses tend to push us back to the left( the thinking side) and the right side is the “spirit” side . If they allow you to lead them and hang out there without being uncomfortable...you’re in and they will love and trust you forever.

I thought about the 'circle' in Nature, and how certain plant circle tot he right [like twining vines. I knew about how a horse can walk by a mailbox on the left and freak out, but go another direction and see the same mailbox and not care [or vice versa] but I never thought about a spirit side. I do know they tend to prefer turning one way and such, I just never paid attention to which way. So I found that interesting and something to explore. I hne out with all of them on both sides so i am not sure what that signifies but I have been paying attention to things I might have just been doing naturally, or not.