Fencegate

Ah, spring.  The birds are singing, the frogs are emerging to thrum and shrill, the mud is everywhere, just absolutely everywhere.

We've had a stiff breeze helping to dry the ground out, and some sunny days to boot, so I thought it might be a nice time to turn the horses out back for some exercise.  They were feeling good, running and bucking and snorting.  

And then Sam, who at 20 years old should know better, missed a turn, slid under the fence and took off like a banshee toward the house. He came back looking for Roxy and steamrolled one of our dogs before letting me catch him. Never a dull moment!  [And please excuse my blue language at the end... it's never good when you realize your horse has just made a jailbreak!]

Fortunately, both Sam and our poor little vicious pit bull Ginger were both fine.  :)

Glitz and Glam

Ah yes, the glamorous life of a farmer.  The bruises, bumps, scrapes, cuts, burns, scabs, broken fingernails... the jeans with piggie nose-prints that you don't bother washing because it's almost the weekend and you know you'll be wearing them ALL WEEKEND ANYWAY!

I cut my fingernails short last night, because we've started actually being able to get our hands in the dirt again, and what's the point of having nice nails if you're just going to stick them in mud?  Then, I was trying to write a blog post for our Ham Sweet Farm page after dinner last night [which was at 10 pm, btw], and I fell asleep... mid-sentence... sitting on the couch... TWICE.  "Just go to bed.  You can finish that tomorrow," said C.  Story of my life.  So many things that end up getting finished, tomorrow.  But our first priority is always the animals, so little side projects like blogging, gardening, heck, even doing the dishes, have to wait sometimes.  If we need to build a new fence for the pigs, or set up a new brooder for chicks, or buy and load and stack hay... it just has to be done.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't a Woe Is Me post.  I enjoy it.  It's satisfying, relaxing, rewarding.  But then I see a picture of myself, communing with all my hens, wearing a glorified Canadian Tuxedo...

I mean, seriously, what is that??  Somewhere, my favorite Little Black Dress is weeping right now.  But there is a certain solace in femininity that I find here on the farm.  All of these animals are my babies, and the earth they tread upon supports us all.  This year we have semi-grand plans for a vegetable garden, or maybe even two.  We're running a small Meat CSA, with animals raised naturally by us and two of our local farmer friends.  We're improving the land upon which we live.  We're making plans for next year, 5 years from now, 10 years from now...  and I still get to dress up every now and then.   

Oh hey there, Spring.

Spring in Colorado is so very different. Last year, in the depths of a crushing drought, spring showers never quite materialized over the mountain ranges. The green flowery flushes stayed dormant, preserved for a more hopeful year.

I woke up to the steady beat of rain against the windows this morning. Like a kid with a snow day, i was too excited to fall back to sleep. Around home, the crocuses are in full bloom and there are some very fat forsythia buds to be found. I love this time of year when everyone becomes a gardener, checking the ground and trees for shoots and signs that spring has returned.

Sandhill Cranes Trumpeting

Springtime in Michigan is one of my favorites, because I love the prehistoric call of the Sandhill Cranes who frequent fallow corn fields during their migration.  The dogs were more excited about all the mud.

Horses Making Weird Faces

This was Roxy, two days before we left for Michigan.  She slipped in her muddy paddock and tweaked her back just before her cross-country trip, to the point where she was limping on two legs.

Poor Little Miss Cow-Eyes.  The very patient woman standing next to her is a vet based in Boulder who specializes in equine acupuncture and chiropractic.  Roxy absolutely detests needles, so acupuncture was out.  But my normally happy-go-puppydog mare was in so much pain, we had to suffer through some adjustments from the good Doctor.  The picture sums up how it went.

I was very nervous about the horses making the trip.  Would Roxy's sore back make it twice as hard on her?  Would Sam's arthritic hocks flare up?  Would they just plain freak out at the stress, the haulers, the strange trailer filled with strange horses?  Turns out, they were the best-behaved horses out of a group of seven.  We took the drivers out for dinner after Sam and Roxy were unloaded into their new home, a fleeting connection that ended in hugs.

Roxy's registered name is Denver's Ace of Hearts.  She's traveled about 35 miles in her lifetime from her original place of birth.  Sam, well, who knows about him.  My guess is he hasn't gone too far either.  But they are settled in and loving the new digs.  They have more space than they ever have before, with real green growing GRASS!  Well, not at the moment.  But it's coming!  We're all ready for Spring.

They're all settled in and happy [along with their new pasture mate Sparty].  

Now if it would just warm up a bit...