Among the Treebones

One place I miss whenever I'm not there.  

Hello, dream life.

Everything is perfect.  I won't bore you with details about what a wonderful boyfriend and partner I have, how much fun our dogs are, how much we love where we live.  But trust me, I couldn't have imagined anything better than where I am and what I'm doing.  These days I'm hardly ever on the computer, much to the chagrin of countless people with whom I mean to, and want to, stay connected.  It's pretty great, too, because just about all I do is sign in to pay a bill here and there.  While I'm not out working dawn till dusk outside everyday... some days that's not far from the truth.

I'm working on two, yes TWO farms.  Leistikow Farms which raises lamb and goats, hay, numerous grape varietals and produce in a greenhouse is my home-away-from-home these days.  George, Kim and Olivia make even the longest and most difficult days of work or life so much more bearable, richer, filled with a lot more laughter.  As of last week I'm also working two days a week in Cure Organic Farm's farm store.  Both jobs are a lot of fun, challenging in different ways, and shining examples of what local food can be— and what local farmers are capable of accomplishing.  I feel incredibly fortunate to be learning from some of the best farmers/people/characters in the area, and also to have this Farmily around me.

And oh, did I mention the BABY GOATS?!

So cute they make even the most hardened and impassive people melt.  Close to 70 have been born to date, and when you walk into the goat pen it appears to have been raining babies.  They snooze, they scamper, they do kick-flips off the barn walls, they nibble on your shirt or pants or neck or anything that comes within nibbling range.

See that handsome boy on the right?  When he was born [actually, pulled from his mama due to sheer size and limits of physics], he had swelling in his shoulders and neck that rendered him unable to lift his head to nurse.  We didn't realize this until he was 12 hours old or so, by that time quite weak and Eeyore-esque.  What struck me about him was how massive his head, neck and shoulders were, like a little bulldog.  I scooped him up, gave him a bottle and named him Biff.  Christian and I want to buy him from the farm and make him ours... and thus borne, a menagerie.

Are there any other additions to the Farmily, you might wonder?  Well as a matter of fact...

Not only do we have the most handsome boy in the world, but also the most beautiful girl:

I started leasing Roxy from George and Kim— joyful joy, HORSES!  It's been so long, far far too long, since horses have been in my life.  Everything about them feels like home to me, from their soft whiskers tickling your hand as they nuzzle for treats to the sweet green smell of their sweat.  I could shovel manure for the rest of my life and be a pretty happy girl.  

So, Roxy.  One day Christian was returning from a business trip to Toronto and said he had a surprise birthday present for me.  My birthday was a month off and he told me he was going to keep it a surprise.  Silly me, thought he had found a unique store of some kind in Toronto... but when I picked him up from the airport he jumped in the car and blurted out, "IboughtyouRoxyhappybirthday!"  My stunned open-mouthed silence turned to Are you serious?? and tears.  Mine!  My horse.  I'm still trying those words out in my head a month later.

Last but not least... something else I've always wanted.  Still not quite sure how it happened but I bought my very own American Freedom Machine.  I call her Bumble.  My Buttertruck.

Livin' the dream... still in my high heels and muck boots.  Wouldn't have it any other way.  I promise not to ignore this blog any longer... I'd like to go back to regaling you with pictures of random bits of beauty and cuteness, and the occasional rant or video or who knows what.  Life is too unpredictable to have it any other way!

xo

P.S.  Here's the blog I've been neglecting this one for, in case you're wondering... http://www.the365kitchen.com/

Animal Instincts

Two years ago I didn't know the first thing about pigs— no concept of how to handle them, what to feed them, what sorts of structures they required to keep them safe [and out of trouble, hopefully]... nothing!  After the first week of work at Spannocchia, I was writing in my journal about things that quickly became the most mundane and obvious parts of my job.  Checking fences and milling grain became second nature. I remember reading over the entry after I came home and laughing at myself, thinking how little I knew.

One thing I really enjoy about working with animals of any kind is that you're constantly learning.  I grew up with a dog who was already a "god dog" by the time I was born.  After Bogie died I wanted another one so badly that I somehow convinced my parents to buy me a puppy training book to prove to them that I could handle the responsibility of one.  I read it cover to cover many times.  That coupled with a fantastic dog trainer/behaviorist taught me about the body language of dogs, i.e., how to communicate with them in a language they understand.  Hobbes and then Oscar both turned into the best dogs anyone could ever ask for.

I also grew up horse-obsessed, of course.  I remember one day seeing a book on my mom's bedside table whose cover showed a picture of a man with a horse standing directly behind him, without a halter or leadline anywhere in sight, his great head just over the man's shoulder.  If you've read the book you know the man of whom I speak, Monty Roberts.  The book is called The Man Who Listens to Horses and that, too, I read over and over again until I had parts of it memorized.  In it he explains how he came to know and "speak" the language of horses and how it enables him to "join up" with them to form a team.  He did it by observing them in the wild— and soon realized that they expressed clear signals to one another, and he could elicit those same behaviors from them.

People who are mostly around horses in movie theaters may think that horses are constantly rearing up and neighing and snorting but it's just not true.  Hollywood for some reason finds those sound effects necessary [I think they're really awkward and distracting!].  Horses are prey animals.  It wouldn't make any sense for a horse to go through life constantly alerting every wolf, mountain lion, coyote, bear, etc., to their presence.  So instead they have a strong body language, and as you learn to listen, or read it, you can also learn to use it.

I'm no expert but I've tried various methods of Mr. Roberts', as well as seen him in workshops a few times, and I have seen how it works.  It's truly an incredible thing.

When I was in Italy my closest companion came to be a horse, Nera.  A beautiful mare, smart as a whip, well-trained but then left out in the pasture to rot for a year before I arrived.  It was immediately obvious to me that at some point someone[s], most likely the ever-rotating interns with no idea how to handle horses and impatient, had mistreated her.  She was shy but in an aggressive way, always at the ready with a kick aimed in my direction, always watching me.  I started taking her treats and spending my free time down at the stable each day, and after a few weeks managed to get a halter on her and slowly begin grooming her.

Another evidence of past mistreatment reared its head a few times when she was haltered and tied to a post.  I would leave her side briefly, usually to grab a different brush or something, and suddenly she would be rearing back in a white-eyed panic, thrashing until she broke the halter.  She did that to me 3 or 4 times, for no apparent reason.  Something awful happened to her once under similar circumstances and she won't ever forget it.

I took my time with her, happy just to have a horse in my life.  The riding wasn't important and I had been there a month before I attempted it.  Jay and I had been saddling her up and taking her for walks, not wanting to do anything to damage her already fragile trust.  One evening we walked her to the front of the villa and it just felt like the right time.  He gave me a leg up into the saddle and we just walked and walked more.  Each day we went a little farther.  At first she was anxious to leave her pasturemate behind, but gradually she became, I think, just as enthralled with our long rides through the woods and meadows as I was.  It was spring and everything was blooming.  On my free days we would disappear for hours and hours, exploring in every direction the 1200 acres of nature preserve that surrounds the farm.

Pure Joy

There's not much my dogs enjoy more than running through rain-soaked grass first thing in the morning.