As The Butter Churns

November 18th Letters On Life

(Anna, Andy and Abe check out the tools)

(Andy and Abe supervise the replacement of a few boards)

Dear Little Miss Hollywood,

    For a city kid, you have a lot of cow sense. NOT a compliment I give lightly. I am amazed at how many people think you can out-muscle cattle, when it is MUCH easier (and a lot more efficient) to just out think them: if we learned ANYTHING from Pancho and Lefty, it was that. Poor Wayne. At least he didn't throw rocks at them. I have seen some real wrecks from 'big men" who tried that one, only to get run over by cattle who couldn't figure out why anyone would throw anything but food at them. Cattle are calm - good cattle owners STAY calm - no matter what.

  (Looking glam - Denise & Lloyd)

    I competed yesterday in my first regional Scrabble tournament since the stroke, and placed 1450th  - not bad, as I was 1790th before. I was beaten by a twelve-year-old from Las Vegas. I got the last laugh though - he still has to go through puberty!

    Please please PLEASE don't give up on the history camp! Where would we be if Edison gave up? Or Henry Ford? Or Helen and Scott Nearing???? Have you considered some kind of eco-tourism where people can come stay on the property and live like it's 1776? There are a lot of people out here doing that with the 1880's (our boom time) and it is catching on. The guests help feed, harvest stuff and walk around while you tell them how their ancestors lived... not a spa, but a real farm.  hmmm....

    I’m sending you a care package. I made fresh cheese (garlic, horseradish, and plain cream cheese) and I'll send it out
(Lloyd, Quackmire, Cleveland, Alfred, Mathilda, Ruthie, Mabel and Clara come to check out the activity in the loafing shed)
 
    Surgery went well - I thank God I live in a world where they can fix bodies like any other equipment; take out broken parts and replace 'em with new ones. The older I get, the more I appreciate that!

    About Thanksgiving - I can't think of anyplace I would rather spend it, but there is a lot going on around here right now. I am waiting on three cows to calf, and I just rescued a 10-year-old blind pug from a puppy farm. Maybe next time I'll bring her with me – Do you think she and Luther would get along? More importantly, do you think Irish would see her and say "SNACK!"?
(Bruno and Luther await a new pug friend)

    Sorry I'll miss Thanksgiving with everybody, but say hello to everyone for me, wouldja?  I’m sending the box o' stuff, so I can be there in spirit. I included a jar of my famous horseradish jelly - try to buy THAT at Trader Joes! - which by the way - is a colonial recipe and is great on roast beef or turkey.  I had a bumper crop of horseradish this year, so let me know if you like it and want more. Later!!

Give my love to all the animals - hominid and Henry!

Maryruth

   
   

October 28th Brown Chicken - Brown Cow

   

(Pea getting the room ready for me to paint - moving electrical - scraping wallpaper)

Tom is in town so we spent the day working on the project that never got finished -- the guest bathroom.

After we picked up Henry from school and went shopping for Halloween costume odds and ends, we went over to have dinner with Chris and Lisa. It was to be a simple meal; they made a salad and potatoes, while we picked up a couple of barbecued chickens at Costco.

    The kids did their homework and ate downstairs, while we dined in the kitchen and caught up on everything. When Tom was pouring me a glass of wine, I noticed there was a message on my cell phone.

    “Hey, uh, this is Wayne.  (Wayne)

I don’t know how to tell you this, but when I got home from work there were two cows in my parking space. I didn’t know what to do. I tried shooing them back to the barn area, but they would just run away and then look at me. I did it again and again, but just as I got close they ran and kicked up their heels and, man, can they jump! Anyway, I only saw two. The other one is missing. I don’t know what else to do, but you probably should get home pretty quick. It's getting dark.”

I pressed 9 to save the message, hung up the phone smiling, and took a sip of my wine. Wayne was new at this. I was reminded of Maryruth. “Some cowboys are all hat and don’t have a lick of cow sense.”

Not that Wayne’s a cowboy, but he is a trouper, giving cow wrangling a try.

.

    “What was that?” Tom asked.

    “Wayne called. Andy and Anna are out. He didn’t see Abe.”

    “He knew which was which?” Lisa looked incredulous.

    “No. But I just know “Abie the Baby” didn’t leave the pasture in the dark.”

    “Should you guys rush home?” Chris asked, raising his eyebrows as he shoveled in a forkful of avocado.

    “Even if we race home, we won’t be there for almost an hour,” Tom remarked, settling back in his chair. “They’re not Pancho and Lefty.”

    “They won’t go anywhere. None of our animals go anywhere. They’ll just hang around the pasture.”  We began eating again. I’d forgotten how tasty Costco chickens are.

    When we got home we drove to the barn, scooped out some grain and went down to the pasture. I’d forgotten to latch the gate when I grained them earlier.

    “Who wants a cookie? Who wants some treats?” I yelled in a sort of singsong tone. Sure enough, Abe came out from behind the barn and I heard cowbells a jingle-jangle-jingling towards us. I poured the grain into the dishes as Tom held the gate open for our wayward friends. They stepped in nice as you please and bellied up to the bar. Tom latched the gate and that was that.

(Anna ready for a late night snack)

A lot different from last year's March Madness (20th)

August 6th Together Again

 
Hi Denise!

    Well, here I am, back from a fairly stress-free three week road trip, only to find record breaking heat, electric storms of Biblical proportions, and a half-fried laptop.I know, welcome to YOUR world, right? Still, it is good to be home. Let me tell you about my month; as you know, I had my beloved grandson, Bodhi, visiting me here on the ranch for most of the nonth of June. I took him home to Georgetown, Texas, and we took four days to drive the thousand miles, camping and exploring along the way. We spent a couple of days in the gorgeous town of Santa Rosa, NM  playing in their amazing spring-fed lakes--- what fun! After I got him settled at home, and after a week of "family time" with my daughter and son-in-law in Texas, I decided to go home by way of Lusk, Wyoming, and see the boys. After all, it is only 1200 mile or so longer than a direct shot home - and who knows when I'll be able to take the time (or have the gas money) again? Man, am I glad I did!!! I had more fun in the three days I was in Lusk than I've had in a long time; and it was GREAT to see Pancho and Lefty again!
(tent camping)

    I tent camped on my way up to Wyoming to save some money, and the last night of the drive up, I stayed at the family camp at F.E.Warren Air Force base in Cheyenne. I like to stay on military bases because they are safe, are usually in a beautiful spot, have all the services you could possibly need nearby, and are full of interesting, helpful retired military people. When you are an old lady and you travel alone, these things get very important. Well, the base was GORGEOUS, the campground was full of antelope, (I woke up with one looking into my tent from about six feet away, and he stood there patiently while I got my eyes open and my camera focused), and I couldn't have asked for a more cozy space than the tent area - manicured lawns and big shady trees. Until the freight switching yard started slamming freight cars together at eleven o'clock ant night, 100 feet from my head! The whole tent shoook and vibrated until about four a.m., when they finished and pulled out. I sighed a hugh sigh of relief, lay back down to get a little sleep before I had to hit the road, and then the darn JETS started taking off a couple hundred yards the other way!! All in all, not a very peoceful night! So, as you may imagine, by the time  I got to lusk, another three hours away, I was fairly glassy-eyed and brain-bruised... not the best way to meet people you want to impress.
   (Me and the boys)

    I had talked to Jon and he told me to let him know when I arrived at the county fairgrounds in Lusk - the Niobrara County building is a beautiful facility -  so I called him when I got there at nine. (Not much use trying to sleep in at the AF base!) I knew the moment I saw Lisa. Stevie, and Cole that any worries I had about looking tired or not so perfect were simply rubbish; they welcomed me with open arms and made me feel like one of the family in no time at all. That day Jon showed me around Lusk, and he and Stevie showed me the old stagecoach station and gave me a tour of the area - there is a lot of history there! Lusk is the site of the first American Legion in the country and the last working brothel in Wyoming. (I don't THINK there's a connection there...) Then we went out to see the boys.

    Man, you should see the pasture those lucky oxen are on. At my house they had lots of room, but no grass. At your house they had lots of grass, but limited room. Now they have half a state, and it's covered in wheat! They are in bovine heaven! And best of all, the whole Mellott family GETS them! The entire family connects with them in a way that we could only hope for,,, and the boys return the favor. They are so happy that I felt a huge weight that I didn't even know I had just drop away from the first moment I saw them standing there, every inch of their massive bodies radiating contentment. You did good, Denise! You got them to the best possible place for them to spend the rest of their lives.

 The first day we went out to see them it was too hot to do much, so we just talked to them and looked at the pasture they are in. They were a little wary of seeing me, but were friendly and calm the whole time I was there. HOWEVER, when we returned the next day to hook them up and drag some telephone poles, they were nowhere to be found - they had walked a mile to hide on the other side of a hill! You haven't lived until you have seen two 2800 pound steers trying to look like they aren't there! I laughed until tears came into my eyes. Then we hooked them up and tears came to THEIR eyes!

(Lefty's right nostril - as he tried to eat the camera)

    They worked willingly for Jon, and he did a really good job getting what he wanted from them. He kept saying that he didn't know what he was doing, but he did better than drovers I know that have been working cattle for years. I don't think he knows how rare it is to find someone with that connection naturally, but it sure made me happy - not to mention the boys, who just looked happy to work for someone whose natural gait matched theirs - instead of having to slow down to a saunter for me! Oh, and did I mention that every meal was home-made county fair food and involved pie? Or that they put me up in a local hotel - The Covered Wagon _  was nicer than some five-star resorts I have been to? Or that the ENTIRE town of Lusk is involved in some way with the oxen, if only as a huge admiration society. All in all, it was a great visit, and hopefully next year we can BOTH go to Rawhide and watch the boys (and Jon) make us proud!

(Jon and the boys)

Give my best to my favorite Henry in the whole world - now back to the real world of milking cows and making soap.

Maryruth

August 5th An "Oink Oink" Here?

   

I woke up to a quiet house. Every one of the dogs, cats and kids were asleep so I stealthily brewed a pot of coffee and lounged around sipping my elixir in my green flannels on the porch watching the mist rise off the valley as the God rays streamed over the hills. The grass was laden with heavy dew; the cows lay in the pasture chewing their cud. The only movements were the robins hopping around looking for worms.

    I wasn’t alone long. Miss Phoebe came creeping out wearing her flannel nightgown backward. It looked familiar the pocket draped over her left shoulder, and then I realized it was my mother’s. My mother would be pleased to know she has created generations of women wearing flannels with tennis shoes or work boots well into the day.

    Phoebe and I began to discuss our latest acquisitions and mergers. How did we feel about the sheep now that they arrived? Was Bruno fitting in? Do the goats have enough space? What did she think of my new compound idea? We thoughtfully discussed these topics and my eventual plans for chickens and turkeys to really round out the barnyard.

    “Why don’t you get a pig?” Phoebe asked with her big blue eyes blinking at me. "Farms are supposed to have pigs."

    “Well, I really don’t want a pig. Maryruth has told me horror stories about pigs and how vicious they can be. And Phoebe, you know how big they get. Really I don’t think a pig is for me.”

    “Have you looked at Heritage pigs?” She ingeniously asked. “I mean didn’t farmers have lots of pigs back then? Maybe there’s a nice little piggy that doesn’t get too big. After all Tante (German for aunt) you have a pig pen in the barn all ready.” So much for the whole dumb blonde thing I’ve reflexively subscribed to being brunette. This little cherub is shrewd.

    The next thing you know we’re snuggled up in front of the computer on the American Breeds Livestock Conservancy website checking out rare, heritage, and colonial pigs. Sure enough we find one Thomas Jefferson documented as a breed  by 1804. They existed prior to that, but 1804 is when they were recognized as The American Guinea Hog. – I guess they couldn’t call them Guinea Pigs. They’re black, stand about 30” tall and get between 100 and 300 pounds. They’re known for their ability to forage and their gentle nature. It seems they ran wild in the forests and swamps until farmers would simply catch them and use them for bacon, ham, sausage and pork chops  of course, but every part of the pig would be used including the hair to make brushes etc.

    The next thing you know, she’s dialing the number to cascademeadowsfarm.com in Oregon. They have rare, heritage breeds, but not necessarily dating as far back as ours. They have Dexter cattle, Pilgrim Geese, Alpine goats, Icelandic sheep and Guinea Hogs. Clearly a gaping hole in our farm is the absence of swine.
(American Guinea Hog Piglet)
    I called Pea and informed him of my new pig discovery.

    “Well, don’t go get one today.”

    “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not getting a pig now, I’m simply researching animals for Fort Flashback in a responsible way.”

    'Did you say my thinking you might get a pig today was being ridiculous? Me thinking you might run out with the kids in your mobile Honda barn and come home with a piglet or two is ridiculous?”

    “OK, you’re right. It’s not ridiculous.” I conceded. “My sister thinks I need a Shick Program.”

    “A Shit program?”

    “Well, maybe that’s how it might work. No. She said Shick animal program.”

    “Oh.”

    

(Phoebe directs traffic)
(the kids "encourage" the goslings to try the pond)
(They don't want to stay in - at first)
(Mabel, Alfred, Clara, Lloyd, Ruthie, Matilda, Cleveland and Quackmire all start to like the pond)
(But only for a short time) (Then they need to go home and rinse off all that nature in the baby swimming pool)

    The rest of the day was filled with scooping donkey poop, picking flowers, mixing cement, plotting fences shooting arrows and vacuuming the house, ambushing the girls with water balloons, (The boys see payback- the water balloon war begins) (Henry has great aim Phoebe gets it) (Quinn gets it) (Sam pelts Kimona)
 teaching the geese to swim in the pond, snuggling Bruno, reassuring Luther he's still loved and making homemade pumpkin pie ice cream with hot caramel sauce.

April 26th Get Along Little Dogies

   

    I woke up to a gorgeous sun shiny day. They have three hundred and sixty two of these in Los Angeles, but they don’t have that fresh scrubbed mountain air feeling. I’m not a heat tolerant kind of girl. When I was young and my mother would make me play outside, I thought August was just another name for hell.

   

    This morning was full of promise, but I knew too this would be my last morning with Pancho and Lefty. They’d be gone by lunch. I thought I would feel a sense of relief. No more chasing Pancho over hill and dale. But relief is not what I felt. I looked at their fuzzy faces and listened to their foghorn moos wondering if they understood they were leaving. I made sure Henry got a chance to say good-bye before he left for school because I knew they would be gone when he came home.

    When Jon pulled up, out popped two of the sweetest kids I’ve met in a long time, Stevie and her brother Cole. I felt better already. Jon was just as nice as he seemed on the phone and the kids were so comfortable with the dogs and the big boys. We all chatted about life in Wyoming, Elvis the basset hound, school, the women’s prison, Paris and I learned the kids are in 4H. Stevie is raising a black pig .

     Cole and Luther were a natural pair. It was easy to see this kid new his way around a basset hound. In no time at all Luther’s eyes were practically rolled back in his head.

   

    Stevie and Cole fed Pancho and Lefty cookies while I gave Jon all the required paperwork as well as Maryruth’s address - a necessity. And Lefty’s eye ointment just in case. We loaded up the yoke and a bag full bag of cow cookies for the trip.

    Then it was time. Jon pulled the trailer up and Lefty started crying. It was a long sad high-pitched moo I’d never heard him moo before. I don’t know why he did it, probably because he didn’t want to go into the trailer, all I know is I already felt terrible and now I felt worse.  My heart hurt. I’ve never parted with an animal before.

   

Stevie got a rope tied into a halter and started getting them ready. I held Lefty while Jon loaded Pancho. I’d never trailered them so I wasn’t sure how it would go. But the boys didn’t let me down. Pancho went right in, and Lefty about had a breakdown seeing his brother disappear. So he all but ran Jon over trying to get in next to Pancho.

    The doors closed and that was that. At this point Vivian became extremely concerned. She didn’t think the boys should be leaving and didn’t want to let them go. She followed the trailer to the end of the driveway and watched them go up the hill.

    I just stood there for a while listening to the silence. The bells were gone.

    I called Maryruth and she said, “Welcome to my world” with a laugh. “When they left here I cried for a week. I guess we’re all taking a trip to Wyoming.”

April 13th Wild & Wooly Weekend

   

Henry & "Tiny Tim"

    This has been a road warrior weekend full of activity. Tom, Henry and I left the baby goslings and six heads of lettuce in Mike’s capable hands while we drove down to Portland for the Region 2 gymnastics championships. Simultaneously, Chris, Quinn and Phoebe went to Whidbey Island to cheer Lisa on as she ran her first half marathon.

    Henry had a couple of small blunders during the meet, but was able to pull off three personal bests on floor, pommel and vault. Wonderfully, Henry took 10th place all around and will now be moving on to level 6. Whew. Another season in the sports bag.

    On the way back we took a six hundred mile detour to see some Leicester Longwool sheep, a rare heritage breed we’re considering adding to our farm. The breed was developed in the 1700s by Robert Bakewell, one of the first people to use modern breeding techniques in development of livestock. And whose work influenced Charles Darwin and Gregor Mendel. As a result, George Washington and Thomas Jefferson both acquired large flocks of Leicesters (pronounced “Lester”). Today they’re critically endangered.

    We’d been in contact with the breeder, Andrea and she invited us by to see the month-old little lambs. It was really important to me to see how they’re kept and really know if another species is something I’m capable of handling right now.

    From the moment we pulled up, Tom and Henry fell in love with the other breed Andrea keeps. The Navajo-Churro sheep. I hadn’t even considered this breed. I don’t know why. Maryruth has Churros and they are a very rare heritage breed, brought to America in the 1500s by the Spanish - feeding explorers and missionaries. That's a bit of a departure, but not out of our realm.

    There we stood as Henry and Tom both told me how adorable the Churros were. The last time that happened we went home with two kittens, Scarlett and Alvin. I braced myself. Feeling some relief knowing the lambs weren’t yet weaned and absolutely couldn’t leave even if Henry and Tom tried to stow one in the back of the van.

    And then we met him - the Tiny Tim of Navajo-Churro Sheep. He was born with a mineral deficiency because his mother simply avoided eating the supplements she was given. No one knows why. She had a mineral salt lick and as well as loose minerals while she was pregnant, but she just didn’t acquire enough. Andrea got her from a rescue flock and perhaps she wasn’t completely healthy, but whatever the reason Little Tiny Tim (that’s what we named him) needed to be bottle-fed and couldn’t walk like the others. He also had problems with his eye lids. Andrea didn’t think we shouldn’t take him because she didn’t know how he was going to develop. She didn’t want us, especially Henry and the girls, to be in for heartbreak. This seemed completely sensible. Naturally, Henry piped up and informed her that his Tante (aunt) Lisa was a vet and could take care of all Tiny Tim’s medical needs.

    Tom, Henry and I met both breeds of sheep, Henry was enthralled with the rams, Buckley, Baxter, Harley and Rambo. Apparently, according to Lisa, in the sheep world size does matter.

    Anyway, the lambs were adorable prancing about playing tag and "king of the hill". Andrea was able to easily herd the forty-five sheep with the promise of treats. Ahh, a technique I am very familiar with, Pancho can be led with a simple cow cookie, Henry can be controlled with less than chocolate bar and Tom can be easily had for a bottle of Becks™. While Andrea was herding her flock, we were amazed to see a ewe jump over five feet in the air. Five Feet! Boing! We stood open mouthed. And then with a lightning bolt I started seeing sheep jumping over a fence. In every dream sequence they jump in every cartoon they jump, in every Serta™ ad they jump, why hadn’t we thought they could jump? I guess we always see them calmly chewing on grass never running and leaping. Andrea said they only did it when they got really excited and not as an escape tactic. So she says.

     I interrogated Tom and Henry about the sheep, I wanted to make sure we weren't getting a breed only I liked. They both they said they looked like big teddy bears, but they also liked the markings of the Churros. Andrea explained that the dramatic lamb markings of the Churros would fade as they got older. Something to consider.

    On the way home, I kept thinking of Tiny Tim and mint jelly. I’m worried. Maybe Henry’s right. Maybe we should talk to Lisa - after she's rested up a bit.

   

April 11th Pie-Maker Pie-Maker

   
    Since their last great escape, Pancho and Lefty have been serving time in cow jail. And since we haven’t had to go out day after day rounding them up, we can remember what snuggle bugs they really are.

    Having them in the barn creates a completely different set of problems. It may be interesting to note the size of the cow pie is in direct relation to the size of the cow. That being said, it is important to remember that Pancho is the same size as my Honda Odyssey. Needless to say, we spent the day cleaning their stall and filling and filling and filling their water buckets. We don’t have a ginormous water trough up in the barn so we have to keep a close eye on the water levels.

    Much like caring for an infant or anything else, it’s through the diaper changing and constant feedings that you create a close bond. I’d had that feeling after working them on the yoke, but lately chasing them down the road in the rain and mending fences they’d shattered, I’d forgotten it. Until today. Brushing them, talking to them and giving them lots of cow cookies brought those maternal feelings flooding back.

    Realistically, I know we can’t keep them. I made a mistake. They’re just too much for the pasture and me. But I don’t regret them, I met Maryruth Monahan, I learned how to drive oxen and I gained a great deal of cow sense. They taught me a lot and they deserve a good home where they’ll have more room and - hopefully higher fences.

November 13th Gone But Not Forgotten

    Maryruth left this morning on the 10:00 AM shuttle to SeaTac. I dropped her at the Val-U Inn shuttle stop before I took Henry to school. In such a short time, I made a friend that I know I’ll have for years to come. What a treasure. She just popped into our lives and brought sunshine. We promised to stay in touch. Hugging and teary Henry and Maryruth discussed their scrabble strategies and their latest literary picks one last time. And then like Mary Poppins, she was gone.

    The rest of the day was spent as it is many times when Tom’s in town. I run around gathering supplies so he can do a project. This sounds like a complaint and I guess it is in a way, but I can’t do what Tom can do, so I’m relegated to errand girl, sandwich girl and “2X4” – which means I hold things in place for him while he’s doing something. Today, he’s working on making some lovely new barn doors. They really are turning out to be beautiful. Although, Gimpy has to go a bit slower than he’d like. In between my errands I get to take Henry to gymnastics etc. This means, that when my beloved is here, I get absolutely nothing done.

    Since it got too dark and cold to work in the barn, Tom has nervously been preparing for his “William Bradford” presentation to Henry’s class in the morning. I don’t think there are many people who know much more about the life and times of William Bradford than Tom. He became inspired to learn and portray William Bradford after he saw Jim Riley do “Patrick Henry” at Riley’s Farm. He’s researched and written numerous scripts he’s memorized, but where he really shines are in the spontaneous questions the kids ask.

    He’s been searching through boxes looking for his purple pilgrim socks and fastidiously cleaning his hat. He’s brushed the lint and rewound the decorative tie he made – twice. He’s been ripping up rags to hide the pins in his hand. I’ve heard at least three proposed versions of what happened to his hand – the 17th century version that is. He’s drawn maps on parchment paper and has special period glasses. I have absolutely no part in this portrayal, so I’m just enjoying the show.

    Maryruth just called to let me know she arrived safely at her sister’s place. She’s going to stay there and go shopping for a day before heading all the way home.

November 10th Beasts Of Burden

    Team Donaldson (Lisa, Chris, Quinn, Phoebe –  with Winifred and Griffin arrived to see the oxen exhibition and with the requisite supplies or master cheese maker, Maryruth, needed for her demonstration/lesson later in the afternoon.   

    We went out and hitched up those big boys and off we went. I had a blast. There is something exhilarating about having that much muscle do what I say. I felt like “I am Woman”. This time they responded beautifully. We even hitched an upside down hood of a truck to the back of them and drove the boys while the kids rode around the pasture. I got going a little faster than I felt comfortable with and those horns on the top of their heads are  daunting, but they're a lot more nimble than you would think. Lefty poked me a couple of times and I certainly paid attention, but it wasn’t deliberate.
The picture Tom didn’t get was Luther, riding on the upside down hood with Henry. Luther continues to have visions of grandeur. He believes the oxen obey his commands.

    While I was driving the boys, an unexpected thing happened. Andy started to follow behind. It was as if he was looking up to them. I gave the boys the command to go and Andy would follow. The boys stopped and so did Andy. None of could believe it. He was prancing around having fun carrying his tail in the air ever so pleased with himself.

    Maryruth helped me get the little boys hooked up and so began their training. I didn’t know how hard it would be to teach them, but I have to admit I was surprised at how quickly they caught on. At first they struggled at the idea of being hooked together. They seemed uncomfortable to Maryruth so we switched their sides. Then everything got a lot easier. They learned fast. I guess it’s genetic, but it’s like they’d done it many times before. They seemed to sense what to do and were able to gauge from my body language what I wanted from them. It’s funny I felt differently after that, we’d worked together and somehow our relationship had changed. They weren’t just cattle in the field. They were oxen with an education.

Little Chris Donaldson and his girlfriend Stephanie came out today and took Henry to the pond fishing. The girls went to, it fishing didn’t seem to hold their interest. They decided they’d rather come in for pizza and cheese making.

    Phoebe was the most diligent, following all Maryruth’s commands. This is not unusual, as Phoebe has always been the hardest working of all the kids. Phoebe stirred and strained and squeezed lemon without stopping. Then we all sat down and devoured warm hunks of cheese with a hint of lemon and crunchy bread.

   

We talked about the camp and all Maryruth’s ideas on how we could use the property to make money. Everyone marveled at the fact that the bankers can’t see their way to financing the endeavor. It seemed like a slam-dunk. Parents everywhere lament about their children not appreciating the outdoors. Kids find it exciting because they never do things like throw tomahawks and churn butter. They love to feed animals and do things like plow fields etc. I meet “colonial junkies” in the strangest places even gymnastic competitions. People say, a “Williamsburg-type place out here? We’d love it. We don’t have anything like that, it would be fantastic!” but yet, I can’t get it to happen.

     I feel like a failure. It's hard to explain the responsibility I feel. I suppose because I believe so completely in the benefits for children. I don't just feel like I've failed in a business, but in a teaching opportunity.I sat outside alone for a while during the afternoon sitting by the pasture thinking. Watching my oxen I was reminded of a passage.

"Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart,
and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light?"

Mathew 11

    Sure it's my responsibility to get people interested in the camp,  and I have failed but no one is sick. I have to keep things in perspective. It's only money. I can find a way to teach.

I just wish I knew why I'm so ineffective. What am I’m doing wrong? Fort Flashback is a good idea.

    Now, we have to consider other options I guess. I really don’t know if I’m ready for a Bed & Breakfast in my own home. It would be one thing if we could afford to build or provide some kind of sleeping quarters out in the pasture, but it seems difficult to be catering to people in your own home. But maybe I just have to get used to the idea.

November 9th Treat Your Company Like Family

      Tom arrived today with his injured hand wrapped up like a club. He was just as smitten as everyone else has been with Maryruth. Unfortunately, as much as we wanted to work the boys today, Maryruth thought they were too sore. We'll try again tomorrow.

Instead, we took a walk to the pond and around the property. Maryruth decided this climate was too cold and damp for her. She'd have to come back in the summer.

There was laughing and a fire as we adopted Maryruth Monahan into our family this evening. Tom and Maryruth and Mike all took turns dazzling each other with their knowledge of history. It was the kind of relaxed evening you have with people you’ve known for years. Maryruth told us different ideas we might try if we can’t do the history camp. She suggested a bed & breakfast or a facility for campers. She has a million ideas on how to make the most out of what you have.

    After everyone else had gone to bed, Tom laughed at me over a glass of wine. He chided me for my fears of the first night. Now, we wonder how we’re going to let Maryruth leave. She seems to have added so much to our family especially when it comes to Henry. He’s never really had a grandmother. Well, that’s not exactly true, Chris’ mom, has been wonderful, adopting Henry as one of her grandchildren since my mother died. But she’s lived in Colorado for a long time and now that we've moved ironically she lives in California. She sends presents and calls and is very thoughtful, but not able to be an everyday grandma. She’s never stayed at our house because she’s allergic to our cats. Tom’s mother sends cards, and has taught us to make tamales which was great fun especially for Henry who is fascinated by the Food Network. - But she has a lot of other obligations.  Most constant is my mother's friend, Marie who is there for holidays with cards and gifts. She takes us places and in a way helps keep my mother alive.  Nonetheless, Henry is always chomping at the bit for more grandmother love. He hit the jackpot with Maryruth; they’re thick as thieves. She’s going to be sorely missed.

November 7th These Are The Yokes Son

    This morning, I woke up to a smiling Maryruth sipping a cup piping hot coffee curled up on the sofa surrounded by dogs and wrapped in a green blanket. All my fears of the previous evening seemed silly and far away.

    We took Henry to school and rode in to town to pick up a few things. Our first stop was Trader Joes™ because after all everyone needs something at Trader Joes™. Then we stopped at the serious hardware store not my usual haunt Home Depot™ or Lowes™, but Hardware Sales™, the one that makes Tom’ mouth water. We picked up a variety of things like heavy chain and “s” links so that we could hook the boys up today.

    When we got everything going, the boys hooked up and ready. Maryruth ran them through their paces yelling things like “Hey Boss” “Gee” and “Haw”. In case, you haven’t read Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder, “Gee” means right and “Haw” is left. They were a little resistant at first, like fifth graders after winter break, but in a short time they were geeing and hawing around like champs.

    Then it was my turn. I was nervous, but I got out there. IMaryruth hooked a rope around them, so I had more control. I asked them to go. They looked at me like they were confused. Maryruth scolded me and told me to use my teacher voice. That got them going. I started bellowing like I was yelling at Michael Ungar and they went, yes siree they went where I told them - just like Michael come to think of it.

   

My turn didn’t last long as I would have liked. Maryruth thought they’d had enough for one day. So we unhooked them and brushed them down, gave them treats and let them go. As soon as we turned them loose they charged around the field kicking up their heels like school had been dismissed. Oxen frolicking are a seldom seen but hilarious sight.

November 6th Maryruth Arrives

 

  I have looked forward to Maryruth Monahan’s arrival with mixed feelings. Until today I have never met her. She is the drover from whom I acquired Lefty and Poncho. (I can’t tell you how many times I’ve slipped and said Panchy and Lefto) When I arranged their purchase she threw in their yoke, their Civil War Cart and with the additional purchase of a plane ticket, ox-driving lessons! 
I was more than a bit nervous how it might be for a whole week with a woman I know nothing about living in my house with nothing more to do other than spend time with me. She won’t even have a car while she’s here and to make matters just a little more complicated Tom arrives tomorrow and I’m having the floors refinished. This means we are all tiptoeing around the house in socks trapped in the dry sections of the house. Some rooms are cleared of everything waiting to be sanded while others are wet with stain and the rest of the house has huge piles of things from shoes and lamps to Tupperware™ and the Kitchenaid™ filling every corner.  To prepare for her arrival I went to the Haggen™ and purchased some ready-to-eat stuff like fettuccini and quiche so we would have something in the house. The oven is non-functional and the sink sits disconnected in the eventual dining room. We are eating off paper plates and plastic flatware. (Henry buys school lunch every day because even making a sandwich in this place is unfathomable)
In my mind, I imagined an ox-driver that had spent time in third world countries would be fairly easy going, but I didn’t know exactly what to expect. Would she be uptight like re-enactors tend to be? Hardcore Birkenstock? Serious? I had some serious second thoughts, as I knew the person I arranged to pick her up from the airport was on the way here.

    Whatever I did expect, I did not expect Maryruth. Maryruth wears plaid with her hair in a long grey braid. She refers to herself as an old woman and a grandma, but I don’t many people would think of Maryruth as the grandma type. She is a gentle soul with a wicked sense of humor. You can’t help but love her immediately. In about fifteen minutes we were cackling like hens. She and I were alone, as Mike volunteered to pick Henry up from gymnastics, so we decided to go out to dinner at the North Fork Beer Shrine and Wedding Chapel. The Beer Shrine is owned and operated by a free-spirited couple originally from San Francisco – I think that sums it up. It’s a small rustic place where they brew beer, ordain weddings, serve a myriad of delights such a crab cakes, hand-tossed pizza, wild smoked-salmon salad and crème brulee. I have to say that although there isn’t much around here, at least what there is, is civilized.

    We tromped in knocked off most of the mud and settled into a cozy booth in the back. We both ordered pots of steaming Earl Grey perfect for a chilly fall evening. Dinner was large bowls of French onion soup and fat garlicy breadsticks. Absolutely, nothing brings women together faster than the prospect of warm bread except perhaps cheesecake but I digress.

     We sat there for hours chatting. Maryruth has the best stories you’ll ever hear. To begin, she has outlived four husbands. Four and she is only in her mid-fifties. She married a farm boy, an athlete, a Creole and a drunk. She has tattoos scattered about her body, which is why she wears long sleeves. She says she makes a great effort to cover up, as she acquired them at a different time in her life. She has a bum knee and suffers from Agent Orange due to her time in the Armed Forces. She’s traveled everywhere and has done almost as much as my father. She has a milk cow named Mabel. She’s helped families learn to use oxen to plow their fields so they can have food to eat. Maryruth has slept on hammocks with pesky howler monkeys that pee on her for kicks. She plays Scrabble competitively. She’s had a curse put on her by her bayou dwelling mother-in-law and is close friends with some nudists that have full body tattoos. She makes soap. And she actually is a grandma.

    After dinner we came home followed closely by Henry and Mike. Mike and Maryruth hit it off just fine, but it was Henry that surprised me. He was head-over-heels for Maryruth in less than five seconds. It appears they are both “Myth Buster” fans and have about seventeen other things in common. I could only get him to bed with the promise that Maryruth would spend time with him in the morning.

    As I was going to bed though, I began thinking. How do I know Maryruth is telling the truth? How do I know she isn’t a compulsive liar? What was I thinking inviting someone in my house with my child out here in the middle of nowhere that I met on the Internet? This was a topic I lectured every kid that ever was a student in my class. Never invite someone off the Internet into your life or home. Was I insane? I’ve read In Cold Blood. I’ve been assaulted, held at gunpoint even. I began to get agitated, and then I thought about, Vivian, my trusty rottweiler. I’ve had rottweilers for peace of mind ever since my attack. Vivian is an excellent judge of character and she seemed ok with Maryruth; although she usually likes women so she might be off her game. I got out of bed and crawled in with Henry – just in case.

November 5th Anticipation

 

  This has been a frosty run-around-and-do-errands kind of day. I went to the feed store and got cow cookies also known as packer pellets, alfalfa pellets, grain and a pair of pink overalls for Phoebe. I couldn’t resist them -so cute for the fashionable yet serious farm girl.

    I eyed Farmopoly™ for Henry because he and Tom simply love Monopoly™. Personally, I can’t stand it. Not that there is anything wrong with the game, but as a kid, my mother was a ruthless, unfeeling chortler. She would revel in my financial demise, and I have never enjoyed it.  My mother would laugh at me tell me perhaps I needed therapy – both my grandmother and my grandfather were psychiatrists. I decided against the game. Next, I went to the tractor supply store and got hydraulic fluid. This is a store not used to women. Everything comes in giant drums and there are a lot of men in overalls and sweaty farm hats calling me “darlin”

    Suddenly, as I whiz through Big Foot Java acquiring my grande drip I realize I’m going to be having my first real house guest tomorrow and I’m not prepared. Maryruth is finally coming to give me my oxen lessons. I had completely spaced. I knew she was arriving, but I'd been so caught up in the daily chores etc. I hadn't considered preparing for her. What was I thinking? I can’t ask a woman I’ve never met to sleep in that room without a few niceties. I realized there weren’t sheets for the guest bedroom or a comforter cover so I made a quick stop at Target™. And picked up some nice but inexpensive things.I still needed  a little rug for her feet when she gets out of bed, got that handled at Ross™

    When I got home, I scrounged up one of the bedside tables stuffed in the garage and I found a reading lamp that hadn’t found a home yet in the shop.

    The room is still strange with gaping holes in the drywall that lead downstairs to the furnace room. Creepy. I put a piece of wood there as a blockade. Around the top of the room is a wallpaper border of teddy bears. Henry and Phoebe think they’re evil. Always staring at them from beneath their sunbonnets with their little dresses and tiny little bow ties. Unfortunately, it’ll have to do for now. At least it’s relatively clean and private.

September 26th Objects are Larger Than They Appear

    I’ve bought a lot of things off the Internet, and to be honest I’ve almost always felt I’ve gotten what I paid for. I’ve bought array of things from the mundane to the slightly unusual. For example: I’ve purchased books on tape, church pews for my breakfast nook in my other house, DVDs, I’ve bought curtains, an art deco medicine cabinet, stilts, plates, my treasured Mosquito Magnets™, a butter churn, a cider press and even three Devons (cattle) but now I’d bought Paul Bunyan’s ox team.

    When the trailer pulled up and this two foot-head popped out and mooed at me. I think I stopped breathing for a moment. You know when you get something that says not actual size, but you know that means it’s always smaller. All I could think of was “What did you do now Lucy?”

   

They’re huge. HUGE. As Tom and I stood there stunned, I realized that there never was anything else in the picture for any sort of size comparison. Big Ben the 6’2” steer we saw at the Northwest Washington Fair came to mind. Yikes. They lumbered out of the trailer with their cowbells a jingle jangle jingling, as they swung back and forth from their leather collars, as nice as you please. They truly are gentle giants. I’d thought the Devons looked small when they arrived, but now next to Lefty and Pancho they look like miniature schnauzers. I keep asking myself “What have I done?” Maryruth says I can do this, so I’m going to believe her. What choice do I have, they’re here. Right?

August 3rd Cows Anyone?

 I’m not giving up on cattle. I’ve been researching places to get Milking Devons online, but apparently not only are they rare, they’re non-existent in Washington, Idaho, Oregon, Arizona and California. One very interesting thing that I’ve found out is cattle used to be multi-purpose. A family who owned a cow would use it for milking and plowing and, eventually, eat the beef. Now cattle, like so many aspects of modern life, have become specialized for either beef or dairy.

    Using 21st century technology to locate a 17th century cow, I finally located a Milking Devon at Three Eagles Ranch in Colorado on ruralheritage.com. Paula Johnson, had listed Abe, a seven-month-old Milking Devon steer that has started training for the yoke. As we chatted I found she also had a COW, Anna! I’ve always wanted a cow and I thought perhaps they could be a team. After all, why did they have to be two males? Still later in the conversation I found out that Paula did have another steer about Abe’s size but she called this one “hamburger” because he is difficult and, therefore, destined to be butchered. When our phone call ended, my head started spinning. I could get a cow and then have a calf down the road. Milk-babies I liked these ideas. Anna could be the match to Abe, couldn’t she?

    Next, I called a ranch in Arizona about a pair of Milking Shorthorns another heritage breed. These two, Lefty and Pancho (their owner must be a Willie Nelson fan) are a fully trained team of oxen. Although not in this country as long as the Devons, who arrived on the Fortune, the ship that followed the Mayflower, the Shorthorns are historically correct-and rare.

    I spoke to their owner, the very friendly Maryruth Monahan. She’s an experienced drover and said she’d come out to my place after “the boys” got settled, and help me if I decided to take them. She also threw in their yoke and their Civil War-era cart. Well, you can’t ask for more than that. Now what? Should I take the experienced team with the teacher /trainer and all the gear or the Milking Devons, the breed at Colonial Williamsburg and George Washington's home, Mt. Vernon, young ones without training, but one of them a heifer? Logic says take the experienced team, I think. But my heart says that Milking Devons are the way to go. Hmm. I’m going to have to think about it and get some opinions.