Horses

 

... As it is, you do not belong to the world,

but I have chosen you out of the world...

from John 15:19

 

The last of the horses have gone on to their temporary home to await the big move to their permanent home. Of all the animals, these two were the hardest to let go. Lightning has been a part of my life for over eighteen years, and really, going all the way back to my childhood when we owned her mother. For all her orneriness and issues I loved her and enjoyed many, many pleasurable hours on her back. Sassy was with us for over ten years, teaching numerous children how to ride, being used in fun shows and even a home-made movie, patiently plodding along with whoever was on her back. Many giggles and tears were experienced from atop her red 12-hand gait.

 

I haven't categorized the emotion yet of not having them here. My brain is still trying to figure it out. Really, it's been heading this direction for a couple of years, so overall peace dominates the sadness. It's as if even a lifelong love of horses was taken when Trent left us. What we loved then is so hard to love now. The old desires bring too much pain with them, and our eyes have been refocused heavenward. These earthly treasures and delights don't demand our attention like they used to, our satisfaction and joy is sought elsewhere. We walk along now, after having tasted of glory and eternities nearness, refusing to be comforted by anything short of God Himself. It's a strange place to be, to live in this world as if we don't belong here, strangers and aliens waiting to go home.

 

The freedom of no chores is so strange, too. For my whole life I have been surrounded by critters that demanded attention. Now we're down to the last of the barn cats and the dog, and I normally don't even feed them as it is one of the kids' chore. Pretty soon somebody is going to notice that I have worked myself out of a job and I'll be put back on the dish-dawg schedule again.

 

I am feeling the need to fill the gap, seeking something to consume the empty time and desire that the animals brought. Waiting {im}patiently for God to reveal what He is up to, longing to be faithful as we go through this "quiet" time of transition. Hoping and praying that He will choose to use our lives in a glorious way to advance His kingdom.

Spring and Ponies and Ramblings

Spring is in the air. The month of April has brought with it rain showers and even several bursts of snow, but we refuse to let go of the hope of green grass and sunshine. Grace has been so happy to finally be able to get out and ride Sassy again. Jumping is her sport of choice for this year. Not so sure it's mom's sport of choice, but the smile that never leaves her face while she's riding is worth the fear of her falling off.

Sassy continues to give her a run for her money, definitely living up to her equine name, but it's a good challenge. Two stubborn, feisty girls battling it out for who's going to be in charge. At the end of the ride they're both happy, one with grain the other sore muscles. Born fighters wouldn't be happy without a fight.

Grace got her hair cut. She hasn't had it this short since she was three years old and took a scissor to it herself. She's been begging for the transformation, and was thrilled to donate the cut portion to Locks of Love, happy knowing that somebody else would benefit from her beautiful gift. She's turned into a different girl in so many ways.

Horses are one of the harder parts of grief. There is only so much emotion and strength to go around, and some things are just too hard to revisit for the extra energy it takes to live them without your loved one. Too many memories to relive, and too hard to make new ones with the same horses minus one kid. Grace informed me that I haven't rode with her for over a year. So much is lost in grief, more than just your child who is gone, the ones here suffer for it as well.

I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection

and participation in his sufferings.

Philippians 3:10a

The words finally made some sense when I read them again last night. I always wondered, who would want to suffer to know Jesus? It is such a backward way of thinking in our society of ease and pleasure. But the verse has haunted my thoughts for years, moreso of course since Trent's accident. To want to know Christ in His sufferings.

Then it struck me as I read it for the hundredth time: Without suffering we wouldn't know Jesus to the same degree as without it.

Poor Rob happened to walk in during the middle of my revelation. I sputtered at him, "You know how it was when we met Amos and Sue, and we didn't have to explain to them what it was like to lose a child to death on a ski slope? Do you remember that instant connection, regardless that we lived worlds apart? Remember the knowing, on both sides, without explaining to them what that suffering felt like?"

Yep. He knew.

That's what Paul means: to know Jesus in his suffering is like knowing Amos and Sue, or the many others parents we know who have lost a child. You don't have to explain what it feels like to receive that dreaded call, or to walk into an emergency room and see your child's dead body lying there, or how to choose what color of casket you want for the funeral. They know. They just know.

You don't have to explain tears for over two years straight. Or why you haven't answered the phone in days. Or why riding horse might be hard. They just know.

To know Christ in His suffering is to really know Christ. You can almost feel the whip He felt, and the shame He endured for trusting God. You know the tears He cried, and the hope He had. On some level, you set your face as flint towards eternity and the waiting glory just as He did. You begin to live as He lived, not for this world but the next, not for joy found here, but for the treasure found there.

And when you realize that it is all filtered through a Sovereign Father's hand you can even rejoice in it. The participation becomes an honor, just like it is an honor to wrap your arms around a newly grieving mother and try to point her to Christ. To repeat the promises to both her and yourself, willing you both to hold on and not lose hope. Looking forward to what's ahead, not looking behind, but trudging through the deep waters that God wants you to walk.

To know somebody in the trenches of suffering is to truly know them. There is no room for fake, no reason to talk about the weather, no Sunday smiles. There is only full exposure of the heart in sorrow. God is the searcher of hearts. He reveals through suffering, both our hearts and Himself. What a joy, then, to be sought out. What a joy to experience His grace. He disciplines those He loves. He wakes those up whom He loves.

Therefor, it is easier to say it again:

I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection

and participation in his sufferings.

Philippians 3:10a

Why? Because I know there is much more beyond the pain of today.

Our citizenship is in heaven.

And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ,

who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control,

will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body.

Philippians 3:20-21

A Farm Catch-All

Today was pig loading day. More evidence that Summer really is winding down as we head into Fall. Our seven pigs that we purchased in April were a month bigger than we had hoped to raise them, but it only means more bacon for us and a few other families who help support our farming endeavors. We will all look forward to home grown pork in our freezers. Again, we prayed before the locker plant truck arrived, and again, the driver left smiling rather than cursing. They didn't walk single file into the trailer with no prodding like previous years, but there wasn't a fight either.

The garden is dwindling down for the season, and soon it will be retired to rest for the winter. We are already enjoying the harvest of canned pickles which we were desperately short of the last couple of seasons. The freezer has a nice supply of corn and green beans, besides all the veggies we ate throughout the summer. A few tomatoes are still clinging to the vines, but another picking should clean them out. Soon the pumpkins will be baked and frozen for all those yummy pumpkin bars and breads this winter. The goofy crossbred squash, and the zucchini that we couldn't come up with one more recipe for, is being enjoyed by the rabbits and the chickens.

The abundance of rogue sunflowers are being fed to the goats. Breeding season is upon us already, and we are beginning to dream of spotted doelings in February to make up for our buckling year this spring. Our last little buck is scheduled to be picked up and brought to his new home {Lord willing} by another happy Craigslist customer. This will be the first year in a long time that we don't have major projects to finish before the snow flies, and probably the first year that I am too tired in every way to even dream up extra projects... except possibly that screen porch that is still waiting for a roof...

The Smell of Fall

With three bucks locked in a stall in the goat barn, the smell of Fall is in the air. I can feel the shift of the seasons beginning in my own body and mind as well. The slowing down of summer chaos has begun, and I am beginning to relish the thought of lazy, snowy afternoons with a cup of hot chocolate and books to read or write.

Home school thoughts are creeping in. Not that any of us are quite ready for it yet, but we're getting closer to being ready for it. I have yet to begin to put together any official curriculums, but rather have a vague list in my head of who needs what. When the gumption strikes(and Lord willing it will strike this week, perhaps after the corn is picked and put away in the freezer and the tomatoes have been canned)I will attempt to niche out a couple of quiet hours and type up a schedule and dig through the shelves to see if we need to order additional books. I have successfully ignored WalMart for several consecutive weeks, but I may have to break down to take advantage of their pencil sales.

This may be, by far, the easiest Fall farm preparation we have had since moving to this abandoned plot of our dreams. There are no falling down barns this year, no plastic to staple up to block the drafts, no half-built chicken coops to finish trimming before the frost comes, and no imminent projects to finish. The calves have shelter, the goat stalls all have gates, and the chicken's toes should stay warm in their insulated abode.

Soon the pigs will be shipped off to the locker plant. I never have to feel like we waste any food with pigs around as every little scrap is fed back to ultimately feed us back. The three steers will be a bit smaller this year as we have refused to pay the high prices of corn, but God always makes it enough. The three young steers are growing just fine on grass, and given the state of the pastures they make me think again that we could have raised four.

There are eight does to condition for the upcoming breeding season which ushers in the dreaming season of spotted kids in early 2013. Soap classes continue to be a success, and an invitation to host a goat's milk soap booth this fall at a local event is a good sign that their livelihood on the farm is secure.

The garden is dwindling down. It hasn't been a stellar year, but we have had it so much better than most of the country. If my world wasn't so consumed by grief I would probably be much more appreciative of the lush green that surrounds us up North.

Thanking God, again, for His sustenance on OurCrazyFarm.

Riding Lessons

Living Intentionally

Hmmm... just pondering the thought: living intentionally.

March Counts

Once upon a time I used to keep detailed farm records via blog posts of all the productivity around here. It served as a good way to remember just when the goat kids were born, or when the calves should be weaned. So .... in the hopes of it being a monthly occurence once again, the counts, tallies and farm news are in for March 2012.

The most recent excitement on the farm has been the addition of eight new pigs as of yesterday. Although the idea of raising a sow and farrowing our own cute little piglets is appealing, the idea of castrating them is not, so we are content to bring them home in the back of the truck ready to eat all the left-over Dairy cheese and whey (plus garden and table scraps) that they want until they reach an average weight of 250# and head off to the locker plant to fill our freezers as well as those of some other happy customers.

Sadly, Boaz the pup has found a new home. My heart strings nearly made me keep two big labs, but the pocket-book strings realized that we really don't need to feed two big labs. Plus, I have hopes of actually reclaiming the couch one day. Sigh. Those eyes....

Cole's farm was blessed with seven new additions this week when his bunny surprised him a week earlier than expected with babies. Of all the kids, Cole is the one who loves farming and critters. It helps that he is also a hard worker and financially wise (and I think God just enjoys blessing him) which has enabled him to build a little farm enterprise of rabbits and Silkie chickens. He has been my right hand chicken man for several years, and has outdone me on chick sales already this spring with his intuition of what the chicken-buying public wants.

We are watching Lightning and Sassy pretty close this spring. Last year it was on the agenda to get a certain stud colt gelded, but due to being otherwise preoccupied, it never happened. Which leaves us guessing .... are they or aren't they expecting??? Hmm.... lot's of fresh green grass or baby bulges???

The three big steers are growing well. We have ended up already with pasture dilemma's this month as we have one too many variety of critters and one too few pastures for them all. The steers are fed supplemental grain, which means they can't be with the horses. The goats could run with the steers, but then they climb in the round bale feeder and make a mess in the hay, not to mention that the steer pasture fencing is not all goat proof yet, which means there are goats in my yard on a regular basis. Then there are water issues, who to fence where so that everybody has access to automatic waterers. Fencing is on the list for the sixth year in a row as we continue to figure out a way for all these critters to co-exist.

The three bottle calves in the barn are doing great. Their ears are still going the right direction, which is always a good sign. I haven't done the math yet to know the exact figures if it is actually cheaper to raise two goats per year to feed one calf for six weeks, but I do know that it's cheaper than burying dead calves due to scours from raising them on milk replacer as we did for so many years.

And talking about those goats .... I think I may have too many. As the numbers have changed so often in the past couple of months I tend to lose track of just how many I have in any given week. This week it's eight babies, six milking does, two (hopefully still) expecting does, and one handsome buck, which equals 17 goats. Some of those babies will be finding new homes in the next couple of months after they are weaned, we will keep a couple of the bucks for breeding this fall, as well as keeping the doelings to build up our herd as we have a couple of does that will probably be culled next season.

March milk total: 68 1/4 gallons (plus the spilled milk, and the three days that we forgot to record). Wow! Sixty eight GALLONS of goats milk from one milking a day to sustain three calves, plus raise their own kids~ now that's a work force in action!

Besides the joy we get from raising these critters, we have also strived to make the farm animals profitable enough to at least cover their own feed costs. The goats provide in several ways: kids for resale, milk to raise the calves on, milk for soap (for family use plus soap making classes) and cheese for the Fair competitions. As odd as it sounds, we don't drink the milk. I really, really wish we could acquire a taste for it, but after all these years we just haven't been able to. Maybe after calf season we'll try again.

We can't forget the chickens. From 13 Light Brahma hens, and a couple of Silkie hens, we gathered a total of 267 eggs (besides the three days we forgot to record); just over 22 dozen eggs. Plus, we raised 200 chicks. Now I officially know why I have been so tired. This super busy season of farm life will slow down soon as all of the babies are getting bigger and will require less hands-on care before too long, and just about the time that happens we will be gearing up to plant the garden. Aaahhh.... Farm life!

One Black Horse: Cheap!

Although they don't pull their fare share around here to cover feed costs, the horses continue to be "grand-fathered in" when it comes time to buy hay every winter. In an attempt to make them earn their keep, and because we enjoyed our ride so much yesterday, the girls and I took our mighty beasts out to actually accomplish some farm work yesterday.

We have a great big Black Walnut tree in our yard that drops walnuts every year, and therefore, every spring I have a yard full of little Black Walnut trees shooting up amongst the grass. Micah had gathered up a bunch of them into a tub the other day (I think it was for ammunition for a walnut war with the cousins), so the girls and I got the brilliant idea to plant a "retirement" crop. Meaning, that at the time we would consider retiring, we could harvest the tree's and put the money in the bank. We loaded them up into the big saddle bag and took the horses out to plant them.

Except there was one little problem . . . since we rode bareback, neither Alexis or I could get back up on our horses if we dismounted. So, since Grace was the only one with a short enough horse to be able to get back on, she volunteered to throw/plant them for us. Lord willing, some of them will be spared by the squirrels and we will have some trees to fill in where a wind break is needed anyway.

Now comes the cheap horse part:

If Lightning didn't have a lifetime history, going back to my childhood, I would have shipped her off myself on the first trailer to come along. Crazy horse. You'd think she was two instead of twenty, or had never seen those trails before, or ever been third in line behind the same horse for the past umpteen years. It never fails, especially during the first rides after a winter break, that she has to play "Hi-Ho Silver" and rear~ with me on top of her. I didn't technically fall off, because I chose to slide off her rump rather than have a thousand pound horse land on top of me when the centrifugal force continued to lean my way rather than forward. I could have barbecued her for supper myself. And of course, the rest of the ride was spent holding tightly to the reins and working on backing and circling. As soon as she got the hackamore off, though, she expected her treat. I almost didn't give her one. Little black bugger; I should have taken the four-wheeler instead.