tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21817643866514144492024-03-05T13:39:05.339-05:00Life at Busy Solitude Farm"The happiest of all lives is a busy solitude." -- VoltaireJohannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.comBlogger418125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-62199372830268527632017-10-10T19:40:00.000-04:002018-11-20T06:58:03.641-05:00I swear this is true.<br />
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Five years ago tomorrow, as I sat at my computer around 7 am reading e-mail, my phone rang with the news I had expected. My mother had just died.<br />
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Why do we think this day will never come? That's absurd -- parents die before their children, that's the natural order.<br />
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Then, as is a well known part of my story, seven weeks later my father died. Zero to orphan. Not as common, to be sure, though I know people whose parents left even closer.<br />
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The upcoming anniversaries put me in a nostalgic mood for the past few days. What did these people, my parents, mean to me? How did they shape me? Where are they now?<br />
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And so on Sunday evening when I found myself gazing at a starry sky while waiting for the dogs to do their business before bed, I spoke out loud. "Mom and Dad, I know you were tired. I know you just wanted to be together."<br />
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I wasn't expecting any response, just wanted to say it. But a magical thing happened. Just as I spoke, I saw a shooting star cross the sky.<br />
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I swear this is true.Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com74tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-28145138242950441532017-09-24T13:31:00.002-04:002017-09-24T13:31:59.835-04:00Sunday Pool Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been forever and a day since I posted here. Hoping you'll enjoy this video -- there's a little surprise!Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-6141315681657046042017-02-21T19:56:00.002-05:002017-02-21T20:07:35.314-05:00Night<br />
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Somewhere along the way I fell out of love with the night.<br />
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When I first moved to Busy Solitude Farm in the summer twelve years ago, every evening was spent outdoors. I ate supper at the picnic table with a book by my plate. Then I observed my Briards as they experienced the smells on the breezes. The sun would set. Bats flew overhead; owls called. The crinkle of critters marked their creeping through the overgrown property next door.<br />
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I loved experiencing a good country night.<br />
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Friends called "dinner's at 8!" and I happily sped down dark roads to join them. Heading home at eleven, or midnight? No problem -- the better to view the night sky.<br />
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In the past few years my joy in the full moon, or a new one, fell away. "Dinner doesn't start until 8? Gee, that's kind of past my bedtime." "It's buggy out." I really don't know why. It's true that my aging eyes don't react to light as quickly. It's true I work on central time, and live on eastern, creating a constant tension between rising and retiring.<br />
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But I had cause to drive at night a month or so ago, and I realized that the moon across farm fields in a clear, dark sky is a thing of wonder. Still. And tonight I took a glass of wine outside and sat on the dark side of the house, listening to the crisped grass crackle under the paws of some silent creature, and watching as the stars emerged, and I thought how amazing this night is, that reappears in infinite forms providing sensory delight for any who choose to just sit. That is all that is required. Just sit.<br />
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And I fell in love with the night. Again.<br />
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<br />Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-28784845591419970272016-02-09T08:07:00.005-05:002016-02-09T08:07:52.676-05:00In memorium - Barnard<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Barnard was diagnosed with a slew of ailments in December. Her bloodwork startled the vet -- Feline Leukemia, Feline Infectious Anemia, Kidney Failure. Country cats who spent time outdoors are very vulnerable -- you never know who is coming to visit.<br />
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Anyway, I made the decision not to treat her, but instead to allow her slow decline to continue and when it became clear that her quality of life was compromised, to euthanize her.<br />
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Yesterday was the day. I looked at her in the morning and said to myself "it's not going to get better. This is the best that she has. Is that ok?" No, I could not honestly say that it was.<br />
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So today I find myself without a cat for the first time in 18 years. (You'd have to go back another 18 years before that to find the previous time.)<br />
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Barnard <a href="http://www.busysolitudefarm.com/2011/08/barn-cat.html" target="_blank">showed up in the barn</a> in August, 2011. That was a rough summer -- Oskar died in May, and Abe in August. It took her until the freeze of January to actually <a href="http://www.busysolitudefarm.com/2012/01/guest-appearance.html" target="_blank">venture up to the house</a>. It took a while before <a href="http://www.busysolitudefarm.com/2012/02/barnards-journey-continues.html" target="_blank">she moved in</a>. The vet said she was about five years old and had had kittens at least once. I thought she was a kitten herself! I am happy that the second half of her life was spent at Busy Solitude Farm where she could bask in the sun without fear.<br />
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I believe a cat makes a house a home. In time I will find a couple of cats to bring home. They'll need to be ok with dogs -- Phoebe is rather enthusiastic about other animals in the house. And I'd like a couple who know and love each other.<br />
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But until that time, Phoebe and I are alone, with only our memories of Barnard.<br />
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<br />Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-50066725972484641382015-07-16T08:40:00.000-04:002015-07-16T08:40:44.014-04:00In memorium: U La La Ulani<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ulani went to meet Oskar at the Rainbow Bridge yesterday. Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-48476634003181032572015-06-03T06:33:00.000-04:002015-06-03T06:34:10.687-04:00Hello, deer!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well, this photo was really "goodbye, deer!" But it was the only one I got, so it will have to do.<br />
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My lawn mower went in for an oil change and blade sharpening on May 7. I had not cut the grass in a week when it was picked up, but I figured it would be back in a few days and I could cut it then. Instead, the business that brought it in apparently had a walk-out. Then when they finally got to my mower last week they broke the blade spindle and needed to wait for the part. The mower was delivered back to me yesterday, June 2.<br />
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You can imagine how long the grass grew! Luckily I had friends do me the exceptionally good deed of trailering their mower to my house and cutting the grass inside the fence so that the dogs wouldn't disappear! But outside the fence it is over two feet high.<br />
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I cut a path with the string trimmer and then started the slow process of mowing yesterday.<br />
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The blade kept getting tangled and I'd have to back off and allow it to chomp up the grass. I only got one wide path cut from north to south, and the area around the vegetable beds.<br />
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Shift to this morning....<br />
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I woke before sunrise, but the sky was growing light. The dogs snoozed back-to-back on the bed next to me. It felt truly indulgent and lazy. Then suddenly Phoebe slide off the bed and trotted to the window where she likes to watch wildlife. And the barking began.<br />
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I sat up in bed and saw what I've never seen before -- two deer standing right next to the fence! I realized that was where the path was. Even deer prefer the path of less resistance when it's offered! I jumped from bed to calm Phoebe down, and together we watched the beautiful deer sniff and graze as they slowly made their way from north to south, disappearing behind the barn.<br />
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Moments later their scent must have made it through the open window, because Ulani suddenly sprang into action, barking furiously and trying to figure out where they went! So we all got up. I took a couple of minutes to pull on some clothes (and give the deer a chance to move on).<br />
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Once outside, I saw that the deer were now out in the cornfield next to us. That's where I took the photo. And I discovered that we weren't the only ones observing nature this morning!<br />
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<br />Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-81529751497573544912015-02-01T08:38:00.001-05:002015-02-01T08:38:30.532-05:00"Snowy" Owl<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My backyard Eastern Screech Owl does not seem at all upset by today's snow.<br />
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<br />Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-65252775705267158432015-01-18T07:56:00.000-05:002015-01-18T07:56:13.196-05:00Morning has Broken, 18<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Before the clouds came.<br /><br />Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-87143546243789363792015-01-06T16:04:00.000-05:002015-01-06T16:04:33.362-05:00Whooooo's Freezing?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This little Screech Owl nests in a hollow willow trunk just outside my bedroom window. Last year there was a baby owl. I'm hoping for a repeat this year!<br /><br />Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-59586500940669755122014-12-25T19:51:00.000-05:002014-12-25T19:51:57.664-05:00My Merry Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It did my heart a world of good to watch nearly 12-year-old Ulani engaging year-old Phoebe in a game of wrestle and chase!<br />
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Merry Christmas from Busy Solitude Farm!Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-55781077834317710972014-04-19T09:22:00.000-04:002014-04-19T09:22:13.328-04:00Close Encounter of the Coon KindYesterday the dogs discovered a raccoon hiding in the shed where I keep my mower. After putting them in the house, I tried to shoo it out of there, but it wasn't going, so we stayed inside for a while until I saw it leave the yard. <br />
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So this morning when we went out first thing I did a quick scan -- no coon. I went into the barn to care for the chickens and ducks. As I opened their hatch door to the outside run I explained that they needed to be alert today, because there is a raccoon around. I was looking at the birds, not the door, and as they raced away from instead of towards the door I turned to look. The darned raccoon was right there, as if it had been leaning against the door listening in to what I was saying!<br />
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Quick as a bunny I closed the door. I expected that the animal would either climb up the side of the barn or amble off into the overgrowth at the edge of my property. I continued caring for the birds.<br />
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But then, in the immortal words of Clement Moore, "there arose such a clatter". <br />
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I raced outside and discovered my two dogs brutally attacking that nasty raccoon. They each had a part in their mouth and they were tugging. The raccoon was vocalizing. I grabbed the nearest long implement, a piece of PVC, and tried to startle the dogs into dropping the coon. But with one of me and two of them it took a while before I had both collars in my hands. <br />
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There was a lot of blood all over the dogs' faces. When we got to the house I was able to get Ulani in, but Phoebe got away from me and raced back to the see the damage. It took a couple of tries before I successfully had them both in the house.<br />
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Once washed off I realized they were not badly hurt. Ulani has a couple of dings on her nose. Phoebe doesn't seem to be injured. Still, I took them to the vet for closer inspection.<br />
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And the raccoon?<br />
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It's still trying to get to the chickens. <br /><br />Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-32081309748943546312014-04-17T07:52:00.001-04:002014-04-17T07:52:53.503-04:00Dirty Daphne and the Deck<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Phoebe's evil alter-ego, Dirty Daphne, discovered this morning that she can slip under the low deck at the front of our house. Then she apparently shimmies all the way (about 20 feet) to the other side and back. What fun! Cats and other critters use that space for shelter from bad weather -- you can imagine what it's like down there!<br />
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I tried to set up a temporary blockade. Ulani was flummoxed. "I've lived here nine years and I never knew I could go under there!" She was about to attempt it when I caught her. She came out with half-rotted leaves all over her front. Blech.<br />
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Then Dirty Daphne discovered an enticing space still open. "Over here, Ulani! I think you could just about make it! What fun we'll have!"<br />
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<br />Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-51451704043507379862014-03-11T07:22:00.000-04:002014-03-11T07:22:26.866-04:00Introducing...Phoebe!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In December I accepted a job at our regional humane society. I resisted bringing home any dogs or cats for over three months, but last week I caved!<br />
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This six month old puppy was brought in by people who said they had been caring for her for friends, but the friends no longer wanted her and the people couldn't keep her. Another staff member immediately noticed her gentle nature, adaptability, and cute face and thought "therapy dog!" When I met her I felt the same.<br />
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So Phoebe joined the crew at Busy Solitude Farm. In Greek mythology, Phoebe is <span class="st">"radiant, bright, prophetic" and that's what I'm hoping for her.</span> <br />
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It is safe to say that Ulani was underwhelmed at the prospect of a puppy on the team, but by the second day they were racing and chasing happily -- just look at this series of photos! Ulani turns 11 in a month, so that's saying something!<br />
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What is she? Her coloring is like a Portuguese Water Dog, but she's probably some kind of "doodle" mix. We think she's around six months old and as you see in the photos, she's maybe 1/2 or 2/3 the size of Ulani, who is 75 pounds.<br />
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I'm going to work on getting her obedience rock solid so she can be a therapy dog and represent the shelter when we visit community groups. Phoebe, you have a big future ahead of you!<br />
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<br />Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-72022784106825232942014-01-05T09:58:00.000-05:002014-01-05T10:09:05.140-05:00Snow Joke<div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHlRoxUiGdMg0EzbUR5c9CPL8sKph6C-UG_s5xhuo3IrLaXlfOGNEdKl0RdOVZnfUAqFLvMwbruzOTmQJLxR_QtyuEtghtmpcbpWoyqm_Mx_u_FGcxVbM7RNt3zqAw8w4bJFXqgolaDeA/I/photo_121325.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div>Here it comes. Forecasters predict 12-18 inches here at Busy Solitude Farm. It just keeps on coming. The saving grace is it's Sunday and we have nowhere to go. </div><div><br></div><div>Tomorrow is a different story. Dangerous windchills with air temperature highs below zero. And I do need to go to work, so here's hoping that my ungaraged car will start!</div><div><br></div><div>I've made some effort to keep the winds from blowing through the barn, but I expect they will be pretty unhappy for a couple of days. </div><div><br></div><div>Let's think warm thoughts and look forward to Wednesday!<br><br> <br></div><br><br> Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-78859326571106259652013-12-02T08:50:00.001-05:002013-12-02T08:55:33.795-05:00Passages: Miss Peep<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Miss Peep died overnight. She had been ailing for a few weeks. Something attacked her -- other chickens? Predator? I found the coop full of black and white feathers, and Miss Peep roosting away from all the others. After a few days it became necessary to put her in an isolation pen to make sure that Rooster didn't mount her. I think she may have had internal injuries. Yesterday I picked her up to nuzzle her and it was clear that something gave her pain. Then overnight she died.<br />
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Miss Peep was the first chick ever to hatch at Busy Solitude Farm. In fact, her arrival inspired me to begin this blog. You will remember <a href="http://www.busysolitudefarm.com/2007/09/theres-new-chick-on-farm.html" target="_blank">that first post</a>, in September of 2007. I was fascinated by the hen and chick relationship, so close, so instinctual. And as I did not yet know whether she was a girl or a boy, I called her Chick Chuck!<br />
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Then the worst possible thing happened. On October 30, just a few weeks after her chick hatched, <a href="http://www.busysolitudefarm.com/2007/10/tragedy-is-part-of-farm-life.html" target="_blank">Mama Hen was murdered.</a> Miss Peep was left on her own to find her way. <a href="http://www.busysolitudefarm.com/2007/10/chick-chuck-in-morning.html" target="_blank">The first days were difficult</a>. The rest of the flock decided she was an outsider, and <a href="http://www.busysolitudefarm.com/2007/11/chick-chuck-update.html" target="_blank">tried to oust her</a>. I sometimes felt I was the only being she truly trusted.<br />
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Gradually her self confidence built. The others came to accept her. In time, Miss Peep was at the top of the pecking order, respected by all. But she never challenged me. She was the tamest hen I ever had, leaning in when I scratched her ears, allowing me to stroke her feathers and nuzzle her with no hesitation.<br />
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She lived six years at Busy Solitude Farm. I think she was happy. We'll miss her.<br />
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<br />Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-51157447141580044272013-11-16T10:25:00.001-05:002013-11-16T10:25:17.572-05:00No room at the inn!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_nap5z2FQ4UP4bW6BiHWwKZeCYFKK8mA8ZVm-iAGFsVCsU8WJw8XvRPK0F8An1D7S4yYJwUr8RYVKvmyDmwzpXT3rKjP_6JE3aTsX8QmKImc1iDZUVFh-fxcgXe520Mu4EX08D4MiLo/s1600/photo+1-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_nap5z2FQ4UP4bW6BiHWwKZeCYFKK8mA8ZVm-iAGFsVCsU8WJw8XvRPK0F8An1D7S4yYJwUr8RYVKvmyDmwzpXT3rKjP_6JE3aTsX8QmKImc1iDZUVFh-fxcgXe520Mu4EX08D4MiLo/s320/photo+1-1.JPG" /> </a></div>
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Things have gotten a little crowded in the barn. Mama Hen has moved to the "penthouse suite" of the nest boxes. </div>
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The "chicks" now create a huge downy pillow for Mama to sleep on.</div>
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I hope they don't think they're hiding, because they're not fooling anyone!</div>
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Seriously, this doesn't even look warm! Only two weeks ago everyone still fit in the nest, but those days are long gone.</div>
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And the funny thing? Maria hasn't offered to help!</div>
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Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-50114579162808860522013-11-04T12:36:00.000-05:002013-11-04T12:36:40.812-05:00In Memorium: Luke<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The boss is gone. </div>
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Today was Luke's last day. At 16, he had been showing many signs of aging. He was occasionally disoriented. Aching bones made getting up and down more difficult. And most worrisome, he had been losing weight with no clear cause.</div>
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But over the weekend he became incontinent, and he had fits of crying. So today I took him to our vet to have his life gently ended.</div>
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I found Luke, along with his brothers Abe and Bodhi, on Good Friday of 1998. My cat Camille had died the week before, and I wanted two cats who were siblings in hopes that they would not fight the way that Camille and Coriander occasionally had.</div>
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Luke extended his arm through the shelter cage to pull me over to look at them. He was always in charge. But three? As fate would have it, the pairs of cats available that day were all long-haired cats, and I wasn't having any of that! So I told the adoption counselor I'd take them. She told me there was a two cat limit and I should choose. Ridiculous, I told her. They came in together, I would take them home together. After a thorough vetting the shelter agreed. That is how Abe, Luke and Bodhi became part of my family.</div>
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Luke quickly got Buster in line, and later that year when Buster died and puppy Oskar joined us, Luke again proved to be the boss. Over the years he's been my steady Freddy, my right hand man.</div>
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When we moved to Busy Solitude Farm, the cats got the opportunity to go outside. Luke basked in the sun, caught mice and voles, relaxed with me on a lawn chair. Ulani might chase Abe or Bodhi outside, or more recently Barnard, but Luke did not play that game. He held his ground. Living up to his make love, not war philosophy, Luke would even snuggle up to Ulani outside.</div>
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Despite the quick decline in his health this weekend, Luke stepped outside to sit in the sun for a few minutes, seeming to enjoy hearing the birds and smelling the air. We sat on the steps, Luke in my lap, and just took in the scene for a while. </div>
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But recovery was not in the cards, and now he's gone. Luke, the boss, was a great cat.</div>
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Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-1194866462727660612013-11-01T09:17:00.003-04:002013-11-01T09:17:55.725-04:00Two mommies!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKIAUbF9FWepULdRUqITiyxykdvHGEKXpoCmgOTeNrDydX1Z2YLsFWc7-Wk0Gs8NB9GbDcxehA7cMvCt0A4-RGhLqag_IkAAgsKBTOrQQXG0pYoBiVOObTVfISTXdXhMX7b97ERCsncJw/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKIAUbF9FWepULdRUqITiyxykdvHGEKXpoCmgOTeNrDydX1Z2YLsFWc7-Wk0Gs8NB9GbDcxehA7cMvCt0A4-RGhLqag_IkAAgsKBTOrQQXG0pYoBiVOObTVfISTXdXhMX7b97ERCsncJw/s320/photo+2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
A happy family getting a morning drink, right? Wrong! <br />
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Have you seen the studies that claim <a href="http://www.animalmosaic.org/sentience/knowledge/articles/default.aspx?page=6&sentiencetopic=&globalissue=&date=&audio=tcm:46-28625" target="_blank">sheep can distinguish between each other</a>? So it is with a farmer and her chickens. As soon as I saw this gathering this morning, I knew that was not Mama Hen, but Maria.<br />
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Of course, I've had the advantage of observing this relationship develop over the past few weeks. Maria seems to feel like the dear auntie of the chicks. She's even taken up residence next door, just in case Mama Hen needs help overnight!<br />
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The peeps easily accept her interest. Anything that means more attention on babies is fine with them! They are quite comfortable with most of the flock, and give a wide berth to those couple of hens who are not fond of babies.<br />
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What does this mean for Mama Hen? For the most part, she seems to enjoy a little me-time for preening and scratching, knowing that Maria will keep an eye out for the wee ones.<br />
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But she never goes far!<br />
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<br />Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-15661170833906063832013-10-14T18:54:00.000-04:002013-10-14T19:07:36.685-04:00A New Room for Ducks<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg417fopHYVWoN691n3qffY7WVde9VfXsMwJfV2koCBtwd5QceST-KoMkjXoTXqRu-4BbQT_lhtt2MOqm9VvtLFggkFal5t_WS24vmG9rU67NsEznyTH6MYGT2BqGH4qWF3-Cxfh6d5PLE/I/photo_178429.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div style="text-align: left;">These are vicious terrorists. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">"What?" you say. "Ducken Hines and The Wacky Quaker?"</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">Yes, indeed. They obsess over the hens. Given access, they are thugs and rapists. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">And so a while back I separated them. But given the layout of the barn, the divider gave the ducks control of the door to the outside. The hens had technical access, but were forced to run the gauntlet of ducks to get out. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">Finally today I fitted out a temporary pen so the ducks could relocate. They were less than thrilled. The chickens, however, were delighted to regain control of the access ramp. Soon I hope to catch photos of the babies outside in the sunshine!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYYQwriW4mz7M2nT6vfPM4GKZvu8NVP_mP6jQYNuOW1Ortlvc-3GC1jGs_89e9SLbkprNl0hl2-3UqUHNqoFQgniOTGivhY3Qn3aHGAsqgo9Ov7nf0c1E2R26N-PIBbzC3mBS8eE9dJk/I/photo_156855.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><br><br> <br></div><br><br> Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-479093935330549312013-10-12T11:56:00.000-04:002013-10-12T12:00:34.119-04:00A little blip<div style="text-align: center;"><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBN5iH0r2xuvJZUsSyOA1ERddlRKUnYlK0Lz7wLY7Yoic0TKijVT9s40B80mIkTX3SAd9BznRbp6_2V5ZNmEv8ta_LC3W8XI-b0Dmpdb_jgVWhPeJYZEDQ28u1DSfGlmrvDKfyv5v7nKI/I/photo_916054.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"> </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div>I've had one of those little blips in life that necessitate charting a new course. Please be patient while I recalculate and I'll be back soon. <br><br> Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-25511825114965968752013-09-09T07:05:00.000-04:002013-09-09T07:18:58.545-04:00A Little Bundle of Joy<div style="text-align: center;"><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBrl4I3YR6kwAPsCXP0G_5Wt0AkVulGsiczUqWQ7CRLIzZkRs8vW3Kv-U3mEMT1bcJMYwV02z7w7BbITWJu0TK2zNU2GoyBxkdAGsf2bdfS74NnewVBXMv4r5u-eRx_QZp7zd3roXAQrY/I/photo_728182.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div style="text-align: left;">The first pictures of the latest Busy Solitude chick! It was pipping last night when I turned off the barn light, so it was not a total surprise. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjeaW28kGe0dv6d0It9JPqwPTYb2KUeYugaB6MMcy83R7GGFjQl9b-lmX52_ZzDNwFIOziPUaSfOWJgYR0vT02_LFyu7j7sC4DCa0q5Lhp1jykGVOAfUIVbCXdDCaADLRyT_DI-WBj2IQ/I/photo_371977.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div style="text-align: left;">A new chick is always a joy!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">Watch for photos and video on the <a href="http://www.facebook.com/BusySolitudeFarm">Busy Solitude Farm Facebook page</a></div> <br></div> <br></div>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-65516534166881692852013-09-03T08:23:00.000-04:002013-09-03T08:32:04.875-04:00Don't hate me because I'm beautiful!<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrp214MirKH9UCChrMd900BqNOFc2mXJPcbHqFkLpHo4aeIIYk561UKk4If0hABF9aGe8UHlKKOvoBXO9vxdklVsG74k6v_szq6FExcnw40DP94HVsKCwNDQcXFQE1Ph5U55yiVHryQJM/I/photo_15308.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">Pollen hangs thick on the goldenrod this time of year. But don't fear--this heavy pollen sticks to insect legs to be carried to the next plant. It's not in the air to cause allergies. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTMFowcLQMWz7Kd9rzSjb1c9MY0X25n5p5CPuTJrDCU1va57dKffVWc9ii41fGoeOCpF9HHbs7NiqdkfyALSvMgf88dTCj6hyphenhyphengp3uFaCTzjf9Air2wR4tN9qHxGt_fZxKXKAbVLUUvt8/I/photo_450808.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><br>Instead, it's the ragweed, seen in the foreground of this photo, which sends its pollen out in the air in search of other ragweed plants to pollinate, and in the process causes misery in people!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">The gorgeous gold of the goldenrod celebrates the change of seasons. I welcome the beginning of autumn.<br> <br></div><br><br> Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-46436160124403422182013-08-17T16:26:00.000-04:002013-08-17T17:38:09.839-04:00Could it be five?<div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMiD0P3t1Gq0wbgJvHkRCeuBRXofks8ALOOVz8v3KknuB5VbDd0ypR5R__n8FM4AImaDa6In_ypNIT1FBQ9Zn3trTBNQXDVzwOYNBzWaPWKMUwwulWcg1JdANNIuDpLqhuqyEWV0R5fOU/I/photo_64314.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><br><br>Back on July 19 (a full four weeks ago) I wrote that the Cuckoo Marans hen had taken to the nest. At one point she had ten eggs under her, but she's gradually eaten up the ones that weren't developing. <div><br></div><div>This afternoon when she hopped out there were six, but I rolled them around and one was too light to have anything worthwhile in it. I threw it in the garbage can in the barn. Unfortunately I forgot that I'd emptied the can earlier thus week. When the egg hit the bottom it broke, emitting the gaggy smell of rotten egg. Eck!</div><div><br></div><div>So now there are five. I long ago stopped marking them. I don't know if she's been on those specific eggs for weeks, or if they were freshly laid in the past few days. </div><div><br></div><div>But I can tell you that I dreamed last night that she hatched five eggs! Foreshadowing?</div>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-5884617962931703332013-08-08T07:43:00.001-04:002013-08-08T07:49:24.945-04:00What's underneath?<div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaC2wXIMEVVvvlhL8ajA_LTXKnRp5dO_DeQT14_l5IvZ87kBM_FHD_sBh1c6WVYZ-slqsbmGum4DusYyUh4nbmcU37nPGpTyMg64G5VJFySBtqnq1kgPH5zkgF1Wl9Y78nVVRiP7jM91Q/I/photo_235136.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><br> The striped hen on the right has been nesting for a couple of weeks now. Yesterday she happened to hop off while I was in the barn, so I got a peek at what she's sitting on. <div><br></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhknwPycLQP8MUKffVlubeUUDIAQdeJNObBGotKB7XZtKrG43WPZ_rr8ZCU_kPzFbeAmzyONg0lBPOilqruQiUWloHnnyTsYDRJEG7TiOozdeIZZGKflJzU01U22r1ATYXwISt6MZXaFTw/I/photo_301647.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><br>They'd better be girls!<br> <br></div>Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2181764386651414449.post-61238936035015746432013-07-29T20:14:00.001-04:002013-07-30T06:59:51.059-04:00Sunflower Community<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Red Winged Blackbird, Laughing</div>
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Perched hummingbird</div>
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House finch perched on the left, hummingbird perched on the right</div>
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Female Diana fritillary, top side </div>
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Bumblebee and Diana fritillary</div>
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Female Diana fritillary, underside </div>
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Ruby throated hummingbird<br />
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Male and female hummingbirds </div>
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A little "in-flight video". Sorry about the dust on the lens!</div>
Johannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12067248975152524556noreply@blogger.com1