Country Roads and Wooden Fences

Still snowed in, the critters get little exercise, and photo opportunities or funny stories about them are scarce. But.......with blue sky above and brilliant sun sparkling on the snow, the landscape is mesmerizing and jaw-dropping. Here's just a few shots taken on my property or from the road in front:






The property has many old woooden fences and gates around the yard and pasture:













I love this gnarled old horse chestnut tree across the road from my house. It was badly damaged in a storm last year, so several limbs were topped for safety - but it is still beautiful. I look at it and see barefoot children climbing its intricate boughs in summer.




And one shot of the hills to the east, taken just before sunset:

Winter morning musings

Last night Rob the Plowman came to clear my driveway once again, and this morning it is once more snowing heavily – arrrghhhhh! There is a plus side, though – it makes the decision to retire in a small town rather than on country acreage that much easier, as no way could my pension stretch to cover the amount that snowplowing has cost me so far this winter, and no way could my arthritic spine cope with the shoveling of said snow. Clarity of goals sometimes comes through arbitrary obstacles at unexpected times.

And so I have learned my limits of physical activity and I am making peace with the idea that I will not always be on this beautiful five acres, that I will one day have neighbours whose voices I can hear over the fence and whose houses obstruct my view. Such is life – we grow, we change, we adapt. There will always be trails to hike and beaches to ramble and parks to visit. I will still get my outdoor fix, and so will the dogs.

I have also learned something else, these last few weeks of nonstop cold and mountainous snowfalls – my creativity depends upon my ability to be outdoors, to meditate surrounded by nature, to breathe in the fresh air and admire the view and feel the sun or wind or rain on my face. It is difficult to write when I feel closed in by four walls. In fact, it is difficult to do anything creative.

Yesterday I frittered away my time doing nothing much of anything – napping on the couch, brushing the dogs, finishing a book (Sue Grafton’s “T is for Trespass”) and starting another (Tim Flannery’s “The Weather Makers”).

But inactivity leaves me antsy and restless, so today I will resort to a technique I use when I have work to do but can’t seem to focus: a good old fashioned timer. I call it my “20-20-20” game: I set the timer and do twenty minutes on one project (today: sorting and reorganizing the attic), then reset it for 20 minutes on another project (today: organizing and revising lecture notes) and then reset it for 20 minutes of free time (which might be reading, or napping, or surfing the internet, or even housework – but something that I choose to do and feel like doing at that particular point in time). I can manage to do any task for twenty minutes at a time. When the cycle is completed, repeat. And repeat and repeat and repeat until (a) the day is over, with some sense of success and accomplishment or (b) I get on a roll with either of the first two projects and feel driven to continue with it, at which point I discontinue setting the timer and just work.

I have found that when I feel too tired or lazy to do anything, it is often because I have done nothing. Forcing myself to do something productive lifts the gloom ‘n doom clouds away and energizes me. And so that is my plan for this second day of 2009.

May you have a productive day, everyone…..or a restful one, if that is your pleasure.

The first morning of a new year.....

...and we are once again greeted by a wall of white. Nearly a foot more snow fell overnight and this morning. It was amazingly beautiful out there this morning, but I am honestly ready to welcome rain, rain, rain, rain, rain. This snowfall is very heavy and wet - hard to shovel, hard to trudge through, and even the dogs are ready to pack their bags and move to California. They trudge to the pasture gate, then look at me accusingly, as if I'm the one who has made their favourite playground disappear.

But, since there's nothing I can do about the weather except capture its beauty on camera, here's just a few of the kazillion shots I took today:

January 1st, 2009

And so a new year begins. I wonder what this year will bring? The older I get, the faster the years seem to fly by, and unanticipated changes are always presenting me with new experiences that bring both joy and sorrow, experiences that stretch my mind and my skills, experiences that continue to shape me and teach me and help me to grow.

I could not have anticipated, on January 1st, 2006, that by year end I would be living on a beautiful five acres, caring for an abandoned alpaca, yet separated from my heartdog Emma.

I could not have anticipated, on January 1st, 2007, that by year end I would be foster mama to twelve potbellied pigs who constantly make me laugh, nor that I would fall in love with and adopt a brindle pitti boy named Caleb whom I would lose to cancer a short time later.

I could not have anticipated, on January 1st 2008, that by year end I would have not one, not two, but four senior dogs sharing my life, four funny furry characters each with such different and wonderful personalities.

And I cannot anticipate, this January 1st, 2009, what will change by year end, what new experiences I will have lived, what new animals will have come into my life, nor to which loved ones – human and four-legged – I will have said goodbye.

It will likely be a year of great changes for me, as I plan to retire and to move to Vancouver Island. But plans have a way of going awry, and new challenges and new opportunities often move us in other directions. And so who knows what this year will bring?

I do know that my involvement with animals will be a constant, as will my enjoyment of the outdoors. Those things are embedded in my soul, my spirit, and give my life purpose and meaning. They are, fortunately, portable pleasures – no matter where I go, I will always find meaning for my life.

Above my desk, I have a framed print of one of my favourite poems by Jayne Relaford Brown. It is called “Finding Her Here” and it reads, in part:

I am becoming the woman I’ve wanted,
grey at the temples,
soft body, delighted,
cracked up by life
with a laugh that’s known bitter
but, past it, got better,
knows she’s a survivor –
that whatever comes,
she can outlast it.
I am becoming a deep
weathered basket......

.....I find her becoming,
this woman I’ve wanted,
who knows she’ll encompass,
who knows she’s sufficient,
knows where she’s going
and travels with passion.
Who remembers she’s precious,
but knows she’s not scarce –
who knows she is plenty,
plenty to share.

(Brown, Jayne Relaford, 1994, "Finding Her Here" in I Am Becoming the Woman I've Wanted, edited by Sandra Haldemann Martz. Watsonville, CA: Papier-Mache Press )

I may not know where I am going, but I do know I have plenty to share. And I thank you, my readers, for letting me share this little corner of my world, my life with the critters, with you.

Let me end this New Year’s Day post with a few of my very favourite images from the past year.





















Happy New Year, everyone. May 2009 be good to us all.

How the piggies got their names

Photo by Red Dog Photography

A reader asked me to tell the story of how the piggies got their names. And so, for Lynda, here it is:

When the SPCA contacted us about taking two piggies from a large multi-species seizure further up the valley, Janice of Hearts on Noses Sanctuary, for whom I am fostering, told me I could choose names for them. Her one recommendation was that I choose two words that go together.

I happen to be a Scotch drinker. And what goes better with Scotch than Soda? (Well, truth be told, I drink my Scotch neat, or on the rocks, but NEVER with soda. But somehow Scotch and Ice just didn’t have the same ring!). I had a list of other possibilities, but as soon as the pigs were unloaded from the trailer onto my front lawn, it was quite clear that Scotch and Soda were the right names for them.

Scotch is mellow, smooth, and leaves the mouth with an mmmmmmmmm smile. Soda is effervescent – I wouldn’t say bubbly but certainly she has “oomph” and attitude, with that sharp little edge of an unsweetened drink.

When the babies arrived a few weeks later, I asked some animal-loving internet friends for ideas, and many people listed or gave me links for drinks made with Scotch and/or Soda. And so my piggies became the Beverage Gang. Each of their names is the name of (or part of the name of) a drink which can be made with Scotch, or Soda, or both.

Tom: (Scotch Tom Collins: 5-6 dashes of lemon., a generous amount of Scotch, 2-3 lumps of ice, in a large glass filled with Soda)

Whisper: (Equal parts Scotch, French Vermouth, and Italian Vermouth, poured over cracked ice)

Fizzy: (Scotch Fizz: 1 oz. Scotch in a champagne glass, top with chilled champagne and decorate with a strawberry)

Rob Roy: (Equal parts Italian Vermouth and Scotch, and a dash of Angostura)

Rickey: (Scotch Rickey: ice, juices of half a lime and a quarter lemon, Scotch, fill with Soda)

Derby: (Derby Fizz: 5 dashes lemon juice, 1 tsp powdered sugar, 1 egg, 3 dashes Curacao, Scotch, Soda)

Toddy: (Scotch Whisky Toddy: 1 tsp sugar, lemon juice, Scotch, boiling water)

Lizzy: ( Scotch Dizzy Lizzy: Equal parts Scotch and sherry, a little lemon juice, crushed ice, top with soda)

Swizzle: (Tartan Swizzle: 1.5 oz lime juice, 1 tsp superfine sugar, 2 oz Scotch, 1 dash bitters, 3 oz soda, pour over crushed ice)

Spritzer: (I did find a recipe for a Scotch Spritzer but now I can’t locate it; however typically a spritzer is soda and wine).

And there you have it – Some very happy pigs who will, with care, age well. And, like a very good single malt scotch, they never fail to bring a smile to my lips.

(For the story of Scotch and Soda's arrival and first year, click here, and for highlights of the babies' first year click here. )

Unexpected Gifts

One of the best gifts on Christmas morning was heralded by my daughter's voice calling to me from the back door: "Mom, come quick, there's a pileated woodpecker out here!"

And sure enough......there he was in the old cedar tree, the prototype for Woody Woodpecker -- tall, dark, with bright red head and long tuxedo tail feathers. He visits here only a couple of times a year, usually in spring. To see him Christmas morning was an unexpected and very special gift for both my daughter and me.

And then..... today after sloshing through knee deep slush, today after watching a blizzard move in and dump more heavy wet snow, today after seeing Scotch poop in the sleeping section of the barn due to the chaos of eleven other pigs in the potty area and a week of snow-imposed barn restriction, today after having to rescue Oliver three times from being trapped in snow banks that weren't quite crusty enough to hold him, today after twice picking up Belle and carrying her back to the house to save her from her Bambi-on-ice routine, today after repeatedly yelling at the dogs for eating the salt and the bird seed and the frozen poops and a ton of dirty snow......today, just as I slumped back toward the house from hauling yet another five gallons of water to the barn, I saw this:



A ball of fire, the setting sun, emerging from the snow-filled, grey skies. And yet, as I turned to face the other direction, I watched the clouds departing and the sun lighting up the trees on the hills as the sky became a brilliant blue. Sunset in one direction, daylight in the other:












And turning to the west again, I stood leaning against the fence surrounded by mounds of snow for half an hour as I watched the sinking sun perform its magic:











A golden ending to a somewhat tarnished day. It is these unexpected gifts, these take-my-breath-away moments, that make life so worth the living. I never know when such memorable gifts will appear, and yet I know they will be there when I need them most. Nature reminds us that the everyday world, for all its frustrations, is still a beautiful place to be.

The Good, the Bad and the Downright Ugly

Good: The weather is milder and the precipitation is rain, not snow.

Bad: All the snow slid off the barn roof last night, forming a four foot high pile around the barn and effectively blocking ALL entrances. That meant shoveling a tunnel through it in order to access the pigs this morning. And today I need to move some of the snow from the big barn door and the pig yard so the pigs can get outside for a little exercise, light, and fresh air. They have been cooped up for too long.

Good: My house is almost back to normal, save a few Christmassy things to be carried up to the attic, and the outdoor lights which will have to wait until the snow is gone.

Bad: The knee high slush everywhere makes feeding Martin the alpaca even more difficult, especially since he refuses to move off the path into the deeper snow so I can get by with his food and water. He kicks out with his wicked back feet whenever I try to shoo him over or slip past him to reach the stable. Today I just dumped his straw and grain on the path in front of him and told him to get a life! Bad alpaca! Bad mama!

Good: I have the most awesome slip-on boot treads from Lee Valley that prevent slipping and make it easier to walk on the frozen slush leading to the barn.

Bad: The boot treads only fit my SHORT bog boots, which are not sufficient for the deeper areas of snow. My tall, winter farm boots are great for the snow but a lot larger even though, technically, they are the same foot size as my bog boots.

Good: The milder weather means the animals, all the animals, are breathing easier. Birds are hovering around, the coyote is back to his hunting, the dogs are chomping at the bit to get back into the field.

Bad: The cold and snow and now flooding have driven the rodent types into the dirt crawl space beneath the house – I can hear them chewing in the walls at night. I can’t reach the access, which is outside and buried under a ton of wet, heavy snow, and even if I could I’m not sure what I will do. Poisonous bait, while a sure fire way to resolve the problem, is a cruel way to die and dangerous for the other animals who might eat the carcass.

Downright Ugly: Dead rats/squirrels/mice in the crawlspace or walls ummm…well……to put it politely…..STINK! Which means I need to get the rodents out of the crawlspace before they die - or multiply, for that matter, which will cause a bigger problem.

Good: The university is closed this week, which means I don’t have to leave home if I don’t want to.

Bad: Classes start in one week, and I have a course I haven’t taught for a few years, and which now has a new text with quite a different focus. I better get busy researching and rewriting my lecture material.

Good: I am in my usual “start the new year off by simplifying” mode – seems like this time every year I get really ruthless with reducing and recycling stuff that I don’t really need/don’t use/don’t want/doesn’t fit/ etc. I have a real boost of high energy and just want to clean, sort, sort, clean, reorganize, sort, run to thrift store, clean…..

Bad: Repeat: Classes start in one week, and I have a course I haven’t taught for a few years, and which now has a new text with quite a different focus. Forget the reducing and recycling and get on with the rewriting!

Good: Christmas is over and life gets back to normal.

Bad: Christmas is over and life gets back to normal.