As The Butter Churns

February 28th Cheaper By The Dozen

 (The Twin Sisters)

     Grateful it’s finally light by 6:30 AM, I sipped my hot coffee curled up on the sofa with a blanket and chatted on the phone with Toby about my cherry trees starting to blossom. She was outside fixing a fence board balancing the phone on her shoulder chattering about the warm Spring California sunshine, the possibility of buying a house and her desire to spend days on the beach in Mexico reading a book when I heard a goose honking. Strange I thought, as I hadn’t heard her in weeks. All the other geese were tucked safely in the barn. Clara’d been laying eggs left and right, but I took them all away from her. I’ve been including them in my farm variety egg pack- turkey, duck, chicken & goose I’ve been selling for only $2.00 a dozen. Lisa thinks I should raise my prices, but I'm new at this. The most consistent layers are the chickens, but the ducks lay a bigger egg and are fairly regular. Silence had been laying, but for some reason seemed to stop. We'd taken all but two of her eggs.  And the geese lay an egg everyone loves, but I guess they had a limited supply. I collect the eggs every day fill the recycled egg cartons and take them to the Cat Clinic in town where I sell them to the staff, since Lisa’s been working there pretty consistently. They give me more cartons and it pays for the All Purpose Poultry feed.

Clara had moved her nest all over the yard to thwart me. She started in the woodpile, went to the back fence and finally she wedged herself so far under the porch I couldn’t get at her.

“Last night, Henry and I left her some food and water in case she came out. And the weirdest thing, another goose stayed out with her”

             “Huh, I wonder why she did that?” Toby mused.

            “You’re the poultry girl, I was hoping you could tell me,” I countered. “Anyway, this is the first time I’ve heard her since she went under the porch I guess she came out for the water and food. Finally,” I said relieved. “I hate her being outside it makes me nervous, but at least she’s been close to the house where she’s safer.”

    I got off the phone, it was still early and cold so I did the dishes and began to mop the floor in the dining room when I heard honking again. I hadn’t gone out to let the rest of the geese out of the barn yet, so I threw on Tom’s red terry cloth robe over my green flannels and slid into a pair of fuzzy slippers. I dialed one of my new portable phone’s Tom bought me at Cost-co. They have such incredible range I can take them all the way to the barn, which is why he got them. The phone rang until Tom's voice-mail dinged. I began talking. I’m infamous for leaving long conversational messages. Tom gets annoyed because he forgets it’s a message and tries to interrupt me or talk back. So now you know why I’m a big believer in messages.

            “Hey, I heard Clara this morning. Henry and I left her some water by the porch last night and some food since she never comes out,” I rambled as I shuffled across the porch the cold morning biting my ankles. “Anyway, the strangest thing was that Mabel stayed outside with her last night. I’m looking under the porch right now and I don’t see them. And I’m relieved to see there aren’t any eggs. I figured there would be, but nope no eggs,” I said emphatically into the receiver I had clutched to my cheek.

            Just then, I heard the girls honking and turned, “Oh My Lord In Heaven!” I screamed. “There aren’t any eggs because there are goslings! Two fluffy goslings are standing by the garage with Clara and Mabel. I bet you Mabel stayed out because she knew!! I can’t believe it!!” I shrieked and hung-up.

 (Surprise! Surprise! Surprise! Two new baby goslings with Mama - Clara and Aunt Mabel)

 (Over the rope and under the tree)

 (Mama Clara and Aunt Mabel with the two newly hatched additions)
 

    For a moment I stood there in disbelief. Where did the eggshells go? Did they eat them? I turned and ran in the house. “Henry!!! Wake-up!! C’mon you won’t believe what I found!” I said as a groggy Henry lifted his sleepy head from the pillow squinting like a mole and fumbling for his glasses.

    “Is something dead?” He asked guardedly, knowing I hate dead things.

    “No, c’mon!” I demanded as I scurried down the stairs Tom’s floor-length red terrycloth robe flying behind me like a cape. I grabbed my Nikon with the red duct tape and was out the door. Once outside I slowed down and watched the little ones with their mama. Henry figuring something big was a foot was right behind me.

    “Babies! We have babies! Clara you have babies,” Henry cooed in the soft funny voice reserved for newborns.

 (Henry can't resist snuggling the baby)

 (I think they're both girls - Henry noted taking the sex-coloring of the bill into account)
 

 (by the porch with the gaggle and the water feeder)
 

    “It’s a good thing we put the water and food out last night or they wouldn’t have had anything,” I reflected. “Henry, I don’t want any of the dogs outside with the babies. Remember Vivian last year,” I reminded.

    “She didn’t mean to kill him,” Henry rationalized.

    “Rugby! You better go and tell Joe and Katie not to let Rugby out without a leash. He chased Franklin something fierce when he first came. I thought he was going to kill Frank, but he left him alone. Babies? He wouldn’t have to do much,” I warned, but Henry was already on the move.

    I went inside, but I could see Henry returning with Joe. I smiled at the sight. Joe looked less than ready to venture outside, hair tousled, wrapped in a robe, a cup of coffee in hand but he couldn’t resist the goslings. He leaned in with Henry and admired the babies and I knew this kid was one of us.

    “Mom?” Henry called to me.

    “Yeah? I said stepping out the front door onto the porch.

    “I’m going to take Joe up to see Silence’s eggs in the barn ok?” Henry half asked and half told me.

    “Sure, but be careful I don’t know how strong that structure is.” I mom-ed the both of them. I supposed I didn’t really have to warn a fireman, but what the heck.

    When he got back Henry took my hand and told me to sit down. “Mama, I’ve got something to tell you,” he said seriously.

    “Is something wrong with Silence?”

    “Apparently not,” he continued a smile sneaking into his eyes. “You know how we took all of her eggs, but two?”

    “Yes,” I answered slowly, the news beginning to dawn on me.

    “Well, Joe and I climbed up there and well, she has fourteen!”

    “Fourteen? Fourteen turkeys? I don’t want fourteen turkeys,” I said dazed.

    Later that day, Henry and I candled Silence’s eggs to see if there were turkeys actually in them. Maybe they weren’t even fertilized I thought. However, as I held them over the light, they looked so full we both figured there were definitely babies in them. And in fact they looked so packed we were fairly sure it was because they were so big they couldn’t move around in the egg anymore.

       “Henry, I think we should relocate her nest. If those babies are born and we’re not here they could fall off and I couldn’t take little turkey bodies all over.”

     “Oh Mama, but what if she won’t sit on it?” Henry worried.

    “Well, then they’ll die. I gotta tell you I can take that better than dead babies, you?” I asked.

    “No question,” he agreed. So the relocation procedure began. Henry went up and gathered the eggs lowering them down to me with a rope. 

    "Is she freaking out with you up there," I asked.

    "Nope. She's cooing. She isn't like the geese. She let me put my hand in and take her eggs. She looked concerned, but she seems to trust me."

     Next we made a nest. We tried to make it as close a replica of hers as possible. She’d made hers underneath the wheel of an overturned wheel barrel so we took another wheel barrel in to her pen just like she had it. Finally we carefully, put the eggs in the nest and Henry brought down Silence. She walked around a little and began to eat. She didn’t sit on the eggs.

 (Henry collects Silence's eggs)

 (Henry with the eggs - ready to lower)

 (Next stop - The nursery)
 
  (the turkey eggs in their new location)

 (Henry moves the mama- Silence Do-good)

 (Silence isn't ready to resume her duties)
 

    “She isn’t sitting,” Henry worried, “and I think I cracked one of the eggs,” he confessed, “when I was putting them in the container.”

    “Honey, you were careful, it was an accident. Anyway, what the heck are we going to do with that many turkeys? Giver her time. Let's leave her alone.”

 (a daffodil about to bloom)

    It was Spring. Yellow daffodils were popping out of the ground everywhere. The sun blazed and suddenly I had the urge to do yard work. The rest of the day the gosling waddled around the lawn with the gaggle munching on grass, sipping water and enjoying the sunny day. Henry, Joe, Katie and I raked the yard talking about this and that as we worked. Henry and Joe took a few breaks to throw knives at a target, taking the tractor to the pond for a little BB gun practice. After putting the Kubota away I saw Henry dart in and out of the barn. "She's sitting on them!" He cried happily.

And everything seemed possible. Again.

 (Silence's head is peeking out on the left as she sits on her eggs between the wheel barrel and the box - just the ways she likes it.)
 
 

December December 3rd Perfectly Normal

 (The Twin Sisters)

      “Why would you live out there? I mean what's it like really with all those animals? You know on a normal day. Don't you get sick of being so far away from civilization.” the woman carrying the big black patent purse with buckles and long red polished nails purchasing some Dill Havarti at Everybody’s Store asked me spritely. 

I gave her my canned answer “Oh I get into Bellingham every day really. And the animals well, I feed them, clean out the barn, let them graze,the regular things. No one really wants to hear the truth. It's like when some says 'how are you?' very few really want to know your real answer. "That’ll be $4.82 please.” I said smiling as I rang her up. I couldn't help thinking how much I hate Dill Havarti it's so pedantic. After all the good cheeses I gave her to taste. She might as well eat grass and butter. Not that I have anything against butter. "Thank you!"

As I thought about the lady with the shiny handbag, I wondered about what she said. A normal day I suppose is a day when everything goes as planned and that just isn’t very normal. Take the last few days for example. Awesomez came in to town with Nick and the washing machine broke, Edward had a painful abscess just above his hoof, the pipes froze to Amy’s house leaving her without water and us without any working washer and then while we were at gymnastics we got a frantic phone message from Amy telling us half the geese were missing.

 (Denise - me- Carrying Edward's blanket after giving him some Bute - Horse Advil™)
 

 (Edward in pain)

 (draining)

 (Awesomez not loving the camera thing - completely fake smile - whatever)

 ( a sight to see - Awesomez seems to be getting over her fear of turkeys, sheep, goats, cows, horses, donkeys, chickens, ducks - but not geese)

“Missing?” Awesomez asked. “Has this ever happened before? What do we do?

“Never not in two years. After we get home, I’ll drop you guys off and I’m going to go look for them, but I’m worried. It’s late. It might be too late,” I responded. “Amy says she thinks they’re out by the pond, but it’ll be at least an hour before Henry finishes and we get home.”

 (Trey watches Henry on the rings)
 

“If you’re going. I’m going, I’m not letting you go alone,” she said. I smiled to myself. My asthmatic friend, my accident-prone friend, my friend who is afraid of sheep and terrified of turkeys who would otherwise never step foot on a farm was first and foremost ‘my big sister’. “They’re always together, why would they separate?” Awesomez wondered aloud.

“That’s a frightening question. I don’t think I want to know the answer to. I imagine they’re in the forest. At least they’re girls and they’re camouflaged. The boys would practically glow.” I murmured as she drove home on the windy dark state route 9. “You know, I don’t expect to find them alive. They’re mostly the young ones and they’re probably out honking in the forest on a cold dark night. A goose dinner would sound pretty good to a coyote, bobcat, fox, cougar, heck even a raccoon could probably take Linda down,” I said quietly not wanting to upset Henry who was sitting in back with Nick. We drove the rest of the way in silence intermittently turning on one of the few stations we get on the 9 - PRAISE which plays not often heard renditions of unusual Christmas songs.

“Can we turn that off?” Nick complained. “It’s kinda freakin’ me out.”

When we got home Amy met us at the gate wearing one of her throw-anything-on-that’s-warm–ensembles earmarked by various stripes in all directions and jumped in the van. We drove over to the barn and I got out with Amy while everyone else waited in the van, just in case the missing geese had come home since Amy’d last checked. We walked in the open barn to see a frantic gaggle. Lloyd, Clara, and Cleveland were milling about the center of the barn. They refused to go in their pen. In fact, I couldn’t usher them in with a stick and Amy. On a hunch I grabbed Lloyd figuring if the scared and wayward young geese were still alive and out there, they’d more likely come to Papa Lloyd’s pleas than mine.  I handed a sleeping Henry Lloyd and glanced over at Awesomez. She hadn’t flinched at the idea of a goose riding in the van. She simply sat there as though this was something that happened everyday. She was changing before my eyes.

 (Lloyd ready to find his kids and crazy Mabel who seems not act her age)
 

With Awesomez driving the Mystery Machine we slowly headed down the rocky path toward the pond the windows open cold air swirling around us. No one complained we were listening for honks. All was quiet.

“There! I see them! Stop!” I yelled. Although I didn’t have to yell, Awesomez did as she was told and hit the brake.

“Where?” Everyone in the van asked almost in unison but not quite.

“There!” I pointed to the center of the pasture. “They went to the safest place possible. They’re not as dumb as I thought. They couldn’t have been more safe than in with Miracle and Edward.” I said hopping out determined to retrieve my geese.

The first one was fairly easy to catch. I got angel-winged Linda and handed her over to Amy who took her straight up to her worried mother. Numbers two and three, LuAnn and her wily aunt Mabel, had me running all over the pasture and back. You’d think I was after them for Christmas dinner. Miracle wondered what the heck was going on and thinking donkey thoughts in her donkey brain, she figured I was mad at the geese, so she started charging them trying to mow them down just to help me out. This kicked up the stress to a whole new level for me and the birds. However after I told Miracle to stop she stopped completely confused by my antics. No one in the van came to my aid. Instead, they sat in the van with the lights shining on me for their amusement.

After slipping and falling on the ice countless times, I finally got LuAnn through the fence and herded her up the hill as I carried an exhausted but very discontent and vocal Mabel.

 (me and LuAnn)
 

Once inside the barn, I put all the geese in their pen and shut the barn doors tight for the night, shoving a broomstick through the door handles to keep predators out, just like normal.

 (ultra predator proof security)
 

Awesomez was alone, the boys and Amy had gone in for the night, but she was waiting for me with the van nice and warm. “I got them in their pen. They’re all happy to be together again.”

She smiled handing me the paper towel. It was the one she’d just finished wiping Lloyd’s goose poop up off the leather seats with, “Perfect”.

 (goose poop - Henry calls it going #3- too much solid for #1 - too much liquid for #2)

 (- the next day we figured out why they were out galavanting around - a puddle by the pasture that hadn't frozen)
 
 

August 27th E-i-E-i-O

(barn swallow babies - leaving the nest, but not the barn)

A couple of weeks ago the phone rang, it was Awesomez.

    “You’re never going to guess what Nick said today.” 

    I took the bait. “What?”

    “He said he wants to live on the farm and go to school in Washington. He hates the school here and says he needs a change.”

    “Really? Is he sure? I mean do you really think he’ll go through with it?”

    “I asked him that and he seems sure. Let’s give it a couple of days and see, but I think he’s serious,” she said with a heavy heart. “Mammoth hasn’t been a happy place for him in a long time and I told you I saw a different kid when he was on the farm. I think he really likes the animals, especially Luther and Henry.”

    I told Henry, Nick was a possibility, but I also told him what a huge decision this was and that Nick could back out at the last minute. Henry said he understood, but he was joyful. I was worried he’d get his hopes up and be really disappointed when Nick changed his mind.

    The funny thing is, Nick didn’t change his mind. He arrived today anxious to start school. Awesomez came with him to get him registered and settled in. 

On the way to the airport Henry turned to me a bit teary and said “Mama, Nick coming here is a dream come true for me. I’ve always wanted to have a brother.”

“You have Craig and  Laura, but I know it’s different, they’re older and don’t live with you right?”

“Exactly, I love them, but they’re not kids.”

“It’s not going to be all easy you know”

    “I know. Nothing worthwhile is easy. Isn’t that what you always say?” He said with a grin. I really hate it when he quotes me.

(Nick and Henry make their way to the van)

    Their flight arrived at bustling Bellingham International about 2:00PM.  We stopped by the feed store to get some more food for the geese, chickens and turkeys. As I walked in I saw the “For Sale” board on the wall. Anyone can write an ad about something they want to sell on the white board as long as they date their ad, so I made a snap decision and picked up the green pen. “For sale rare, heritage..."

    “Mom! What are you selling? Rare, heritage what?”

    “…Cotton Patch Geese”

    “Who?” Henry demanded. “Not Lloyd, you wouldn’t.”

    “No. Quackmire, he’s charged Phoebe for the last time.”

    “Look Mama, look at the ad above yours, they’re selling Cayugas. You’ve always wanted a Cayuga! And they’re only $5.00!”

    Henry was right I had wanted a Cayuga. I’d researched Cayugas and just hadn’t pulled the trigger, but here they were right in front of me.

    “Come on Mom, Cayugas.” Before I knew what I was doing my fingers were dialing the number and a woman answered the phone.

    “Hello, I’m calling about your ad, do you still have the Cayugas?”

    “Yes, we do, they’re three left,” a woman said on the other end of the phone. “How many would you want?”

    “Well, I’m just listing a couple of my geese now. I wasn’t actually thinking about getting Cayugas today, but my son noticed your ad. How old are they?”

    “They’re two months old now,” she said slowly as though she was calculating their age.
    “So they’re about full grown then?” I asked.

    “Yes they are. Uh, what kind of geese do you have?”

    “Cotton Patch, they’re a rare heritage breed too,” I told her.

    “Really, well I really miss having geese,” she said wistfully.

    “Perhaps we could work a trade?” I suggested.

    “We might just be able to do that. Let me speak to my husband and I’ll call you back.”

    “Looking forward to hearing from you,” I said as I hung up. We bought two bags of Flockraiser™, stopped at the market and went home.

    We’d been home about ten minutes when the phone rang. “Hello?”

    “Hello, Denise, this is Laura and I spoke to my husband and we’d like to work out the trade. We’d like the geese,” she said.

    “Great, do you mind if I give you three? You see, I have a perfect male, Quackmire and he is attached to Ruthie, but she has a condition called Angel Wing and so she’s not really good for breeding so I’d be happy to give you LuAnn as well,” I babbled.

    “You know, I’d rather just have two, we’re really trying to downsize, but I don’t mind having Ruthie and her Angel Wing. We’ve taken rescue geese before so that’s just fine,” Laura said. “Can we do it now? This would be a good time to catch them and we’re so busy the next few days I don’t know when we’ll be able to do it.”

    Awesomez was less than thrilled and truth be known I didn’t blame her. She’d driven from Mammoth to Palm Springs so her father could see Nick before he left then caught a plane from Palm Springs to Bellingham, gone to the feed store, the market and was finally home when I informed her we were going to catch geese and go get a few Cayugas – almost all the way jn Bellingham, a mere thirty minutes or so – forty-five if Tom or Awesomez are driving.

    “Ducks? Really? Tonight? Do we have to?” She nearly whined.

    “They’re not just ducks, they’re Cayugas, rare, heritage black ducks with a beetle green sheen and she wants Quackmire. I’ll go by myself,” I said.

    “No, I’m coming, we’re all coming” she acquiesced. “I don’t want to be a downer I know you want them, I’m just tired.”

    “Heck ya” Nick chimed in.

    “Besides, Old McDonald had ducks” I reasoned.

    "Mama,first we got a horse, then another cow, today a kid and ducks," Henry pointed out.

    So we caught our feathered friends, put them in a dog carrier and headed off for Squalicum Lake Road. It was a nice street I’d not ventured down before. Large pieces of land all for sale it seemed. We quickly located the house and Laura let us in. They had a rabbit, ducks, chickens of all kinds and a peacock.

(Quackmire and Ruthie are in the carrier)

    The boys quickly disappeared into a tree followed by some dogs while Lisa and I chatted with Laura and her husband. They showed us around their coup and told me tips on the chickens for the winter. We met the ducks and saw Quackmire and Ruthie’s new pond. It was tough to leave Quackie but I was happy to see where he’d be living and know he was in such a nice place. I thought of Lisa and saw her looking at Nick who was laughing and running around. It was taking a lot of love to do what she was doing, helping her child find his place, and I didn't know if I would have it in me if the situations were reversed. I hope I would.

(due to the extreme heat they're pond has gone way down - in this picture you can only see a small portion, the other part is obscured on the left where it wraps around)

(Quackmire in his new coup)

(Quackmire peeks)

(Henry and Nick explore)

(Henry and Nick hold the new Cayuga ducklings)

(Henry likes the new ducks)

 

    Laura explained her last pair of geese had charged one of her kids knocked the child down, mounted the kid on the back and pinned her. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Quackmire’s never done anything like that.” I assured her.

    Laura continued and told us her grandson who is thirteen comes over and has no one to hang out with, so she wondered if Nick and Henry might like to come back sometime and meet him. Henry and Nick took one look at the tree house, trampoline and bonfire pit and agreed readily. 

    We were just about to go when Nick and Henry went in the chicken coup to look at the Frizzle and the peacock. Lisa and I were chatting with Laura and saying good-bye to Quackmire when we heard the screams followed by two boys charging out of the chicken coup. It seems the peacock had taken exception to being held and flown over Nick’s head scaring the living horse manure out of them.

(Henry and Nick try to take home a stow-away)

    On the way home we couldn’t stop laughing about the looks on their faces. 

    “Do you think she’s going to like Quackmire? He’s difficult compared to her ducks.” Henry asked.

    “Oh my gosh, didn’t you guys hear about Laura’s other geese?” Awesomez asked laughing.

    “No what?” Henry asked. “We were playing in the tree.”

    “Her geese attacked her kid and mounted her!! You guys are weak. Quackmire never committed assault and battery. You can’t even take a little goosing” Awesomez taunted.

“True in the goose world, that’s a felony, Quackmire’s only gone as far as a misdemeanor.”
    

(On the way home)

   

April 19th Yakitty Yak

   

   The phone rang yesterday morning and it was decided that the Mellotts, a lovely family in Wyoming - complete with a basset hound named Elvis - is going to give Pancho and Lefty a new home. It seems Pancho and Lefty are  going into show business and will be participating in a wild west show. I'm thrilled because when I asked Mrs. Mellott if they were sure, she replied. "Yes, I think they've been put in the will above the children." Maryruth should be pleased.

        Mr. Mellott will be fetching them week after spending a night in Idaho with his brother,  which means I need to provide appropriate health documentation when transporting livestock across state lines. I didn't want to do it before I knew when and where Pancho and Lefty were going because different states have different requirements and health certificates are valid for only two-weeks in come cases and a month at the outside. In order to get all the necessary paperwork I called the Wyoming Livestock governing board to inquire what might be needed. Remember Wyoming is a large state known for its cattle, at least that’s how I view it. So I would think especially the guy in charge of livestock would be extremely knowledgeable in this category. I was wrong.

    “Hello, I’m calling from Western Washington and I’ve just sold a pair of oxen to a gentleman in Wyoming and I need to know what if any vaccines you require for them to enter the state.”

    “Oxen? Is that a yak?” he asked perplexed.

    “A yak? They live in Tibet. No. They're oxen you know,cattle. I guess they look a little like a yak with a crew cut.” I replied a bit surprised. Wondering if I had the right number.

    “Are they bulls?” he asked.

    “Ah, no. they’re oxen. You know a steer but older and with an education.” I replied slowly completely off guard. I’m the city girl.

    “So what are they exactly?” he asked me again still confused.

    “They’re cattle, they’re Milking Shorthorns.”

    “What they’re from a dairy? That changes everything. How many cows are you talking about? These are milkers then.” He seemed somewhat authoritative now.

    “No. If you tried to milk these two you’d very sorry. Their breed is the Milking Shorthorn. The breed that settled the entire western United States. They are males. An ox is merely a four-year-old or older steer. A castrated male. They are usually trained to pull a cart or a plow a field.”

    “Really? I didn’t know that.”  Obviously. This guy is in charge?  “In that case they don’t need anything special only a health cert. and a permit number. The vet you have check them out can call us for that.”

    “Great, thank you.”

    So I called the large animal vet's office and made an appointment for Tuesday. They asked if I was sure of the health requirements for Wyoming, I told them I was and that I’d just gotten off the phone with the livestock board of health.

    Next, I cleaned out the gosling’s container and settled down to order some chickens. I’ve completely given up on Black Javas they’re great but at this point they are so rare I can’t even acquire any. So I went back to the Williamsburg breeds page on their website and decided on Silver Dorkings. I did a search and found they are available at the Murray McMurray Hatchery. Fabulous. I went to order them, but stopped short of check out and called my feathered friend, Toby. And told her I had to order 25 chicks in order to get an order and I really didn’t want or need twenty five of anything. She agreed to meet me in Horse Shoe Bay and take the extra chicks. She sells eggs at the farmer’s market and says she never has enough eggs. We did the math and calculated the shipping costs etc. She decided she’d like to get more Araucanas, commonly known as the Easter egg chicken because it lays colored eggs and everyone loves them. In fact, Henry took green eggs from Toby’s chickens to school on Dr. Seuss Day in kindergarten. They were a huge hit with the kids and the kindergarten teacher, Nell, was more than a little taken aback that there really were green eggs to go with ham.

    So I excitedly picked up the phone and called the Murray McMurray Hatchery to order my chickens. I didn’t want to leave it to the Internet because I had too many questions. I went through the discussion about taking chickens across an international boundary and was assured that with their health certificate and the appropriate vaccinations the hatchery provides I would have no problem. Sure it might sound easy from where she sat, but had she actually done it? Taking poultry to Canada seemed daunting to me, yet I wanted my chickens so I was up for the challenge. I’d make Henry go with me he’d distract them. Great mother I am. I'm willing to use my child as bait to distract international agents. Whatever works.

     I was ready to pull the trigger and give my debit card number. Then the woman’s tone changed.

    "Oh, I didn’t realize you wanted the Silver Dorkings. We don’t have any.”

    “Really?  You’re sure. I don’t need many. Ideally I’m only looking for five pullets and one cockerel.” I said dazzling her with my newly acquired insider chicken lingo.

    “Sorry, chicken season is almost over so we wouldn’t be able to get you your order until June and even then we don’t’ have any Dorkings.”

    “ There’s a chicken season? Don’t they lay eggs all the time?” I said revealing my novice knowledge of poultry.

    “There’s a short time when we have chicks so we’re almost over and you won’t be able to get any until next spring. You can put your pre-order in next January.”

    “I had no idea. You’re sure you don’t have any.”

       “Well, let me see” she said as the tapping of her computer clicked over the phone. “ We do have three from a canceled order available the week of May 12th.”

    “Great! I’ll take them.”

    “No you can’t. Because we don’t have anything else available that week. And we can’t ship less than twenty-five.”

    “There isn’t anything, nothing else?” I figured I could at least sell something else on Craigslist.

    “There are plenty of cockerels.”

    “Roosters? I would have to buy twenty-two roosters?” I thought of my neighbor, “stinky britches” wouldn’t he just love it if I got twenty-two roosters. My evil side began to emerge.

    “Exactly.”

    “What would I do with twenty-two roosters? Do you think I could sell them?” I knew I really couldn’t keep twenty-two roosters and stay on speaking terms with Mike.

    “Well, not a lot of people want them that’s why we have so many, but you could eat them.”

    “I don’t think so. We really couldn’t.”  Although Tom’s mother can twist the head off a chicken with one hand. But unless she intends to come up here and handle it while I take a cruise somewhere I don’t think that’s going to work out. “Can we buy wild turkeys?” Tom has this dream of having wild turkeys roaming the area. Unlike modern domestic turkeys that can barely move because they've been bred so top heavy, a wild turkey can run up to 25mph and fly up to 55 mph and are very adaptable to almost any environment in the U.S. “Or, the Standard Bronze? I just want a tom and a hen.”

    “Sorry. We can’t ship turkeys with chicks. We get them from two different locations.”

    “Hmm, then I guess I don’t really have any other options do I?”

    Well, then sorry.” Click.

        I wasn’t ready to accept defeat quite yet, but I needed to take the goslings out for a little waddle. Luther thoroughly enjoyed the outing racing back and for the with them in the twenty minutes of our allotted sunlight.

    While I stewed over the chicken dilemma, the phone rang again it was the veterinarian’s office. They had some questions about the health check on Tuesday. It seems they were unclear what exactly oxen were. and again I went through the exact same bovine discussion I’d had with the man from Wyoming all over again. Can we be a society so removed from the past that even people working with livestock don’t know an ox from a cow? To be clear. A heifer is a young bovine that has not had a calf. A cow is a female bovine. A steer is a castrated male. A bull is an intact male bovine of any age. An ox is a castrated male over the age of four. The age distinction is made because steers are usually covered in A1™ on your dinner table long before the age of four.

    Tom called and had a chicken idea. He suggested I call the co-op, Laurel Farm Supply or Dell's and see if they’d take roosters. Great idea. Although he apparently doesn’t know the term cockerel yet – complete nubie.

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