ESCAPING CHICKENS, BIG BLACK BEAR AND LOGGERS

          My mind seems to be in low gear these days and at times I feel plumb tuckered out.  Not sure if the cause for this feeling is the weather, either hot or pouring rain and when I look at the sumac tree growing near the garage, due to the shape of its leaves, we almost appear to be living in a sub tropical climate.  Of course, come winter, when the snow flies and the sumac tree is bare of leaves, this place will seem as if it packed up and decided to take up residence on the slopes of the alps.  However, although the weather is completely undependable these days, I have somewhat of a firm suspicion that the reason I feel as sluggish as a slug weaving a slime trail across the road is because I've sort of wore myself out - just not as young as I used to be.  Seems like before I even complete one project, just like the goats, another two or three butt in and push it aside momentarily - my list of things to do appears to be getting longer rather than shorter. 
          Now that we've got animals - two goats Freya and Jack, one dog Lukie and 37 chickens (I won't bother with all their names) in the coop,  plus one under the coop and another who knows where, since one of the goats broke the latch off the hen house and about 7 or 8 of them escaped, they eat into one's time as well - spent a good portion of yesterday trying to catch the dang things and return them to the safety of their coop - lots of predators lurking around Golden Unicorn Farm.  And speaking of predators, I just heard yesterday that a large bear, the biggest one anyone here around these parts has ever seen before, appears to be hanging around Green Mountain.  Not sure how dangerous the bear is but being the biggest bear in the woods has to mean something.  With all the chores that need doing and the tree-fallers about to begin knocking down the trees on the property next to ours, instead of me working on the goat and chicken barn today, and because I'm feeling somewhat leery about the survey job supposedly being done, I'm going to have to try and find the border between the two properties - don't want any of the trees growing on Golden Unicorn Farm getting hacked down - trying to give the tree population a bit of a helping hand and at least keep our portion safe from the heavy equipment and chain saws.  I suppose with the big bear in the nearby vicinity, I best take Lukie with me - the property line stretches about 3/4 of a mile into the forest - not like I can just high-tail back inside the house if it suddenly appears.
          Sundays, I generally walk up over Green Mountain to visit my friends George and Margaret, so hiking through the woods should be enjoyable as long as we don't come across that big old bear.  I often  wander through the woods without taking any weapons so I may strap my hatchet and long-bladed knife to my hips before leaving - not that they would do me any good against a bear, but if I can see any old markings of the property line, I'll cut a new blaze through the forest so the logging company will make no mistake about which trees they can cut down.  I really wish a logging operation wasn't about to happen, not just because it is going to destroy the looks of Green Mountain for quite a few years to come but because of the problems it may create - less habitation for the animals, possible erosion and the effect it may have on the trout bearing stream, which flows into the lake - not a whole lot of soil covering this rocky terrain.
          The sun has climbed well over the ridge and already, unless some big thunderclouds come rolling in, I suspect it's going to be a very hot and muggy day - blasted mosquitoes and no-see-ems will be after me in the woods too - they just seem to thrive on the present weather conditions.  Guess I best get a move on since I don't know how long I'll be traipsing through the trees, there's a lot of things that need doing here on the farm today too.
      

HOME, HOME ON THE FARM, WHERE THE GOATS AND THE CHICKENS PLAY...

          It's a golden morning here at Golden Unicorn Farm at the base of Green Mountain.  However, from the scuttlebutt that's been buzzing about Fosterville the last few days; the mountain may not be so green much longer.  The property next to ours is about to be logged and will most likely be clear cut, which seems to be the norm these days.  When I was asked about logging our property I said, "The trees will remain standing as long as I'm still standing."  I've got bills like most anyone else but cutting down the trees for a buck is not in my interest and I can think of many other ways to earn some money to pay the bills.  I expect our view of the ridge will change drastically very shortly and I'm somewhat saddened, not just for me and the family but for all the creatures of the forest, which call that part of the country home.

 Almost Completed Barn with Gate

          Like the soon to be changing landscape, things around Golden Unicorn Farm have changed somewhat too.  The barn finally reached the stage where it is habitable and a safe abode for predators.  Our 39 chickens, 2 goats Jack and Freya now have a home as well as Lukie, our Great Pyrenees guard dog.  I still have to attach the door, put a steel cap on the roof, add a few more smaller screws along the edges and then nail the battens to the outside walls - of course nesting boxes, perches, hay feeder and goat milking station in the inside are needed as well - oh well, like they say, "A farmer's work is never done." 
         

Sarah Singing, "The Barnyard's Alive With the Sound of Music."

          
          My Sarah, bless her big heart, has decided to become an opera star - such a diva.  I took this photo of her as she sang in her best Julie Andrew's voice, "The barnyard's alive with the sound of music."  The goats bleating harmonized to her every note as well as the dog's howling - oh my bleeding ears!  Even the chickens inside the barn backed up the musical quartet with well-placed peeping (thank goodness they are not at the clucking and crowing stage yet).

Chickens Peeping in the Spotlight

 

Perhaps Sarah can create a barnyard musical that farmers the world over will play in their barns and throughout their fields - they say animals and plants enjoy music and hens lay better too.

 Hand-Lettered Banner for a Wedding

       
          The chickens and the goats are not at the stage where we can earn a little cash from eggs and dairy products, so to help pay bills, I hand-lettered an 8' banner inside my studio yesterday, which pretty much takes up almost one entire wall and I don't know if its Sarah's singing still reverberating around the barnyard or the paint fumes but I feel as if I'm almost hallucinating.  Since for some odd reason or another the paint refused to dry - I've got an electric heater belting out a lot of heat and a fan blowing (perhaps that's why I'm feeling a little fuzzy) - the sign is for a wedding that's happening this afternoon and hopefully it will be dry enough to roll up - sure hate to return the customer's money.
          Well, since a farmer's work is never done, I guess I best quit dabbling with this blog and get on with the necessary chores of the day.  What's that I hear above the roar of the heater's fan - can it be a lilting tune from a fair maiden or a forest nymph - ah no, it's Sarah's melodic voice enticing me into the house (wink, wink) - hahaha - got you for a moment - coffee is ready!
       

SUNDAY - TIME TO PICK BERRIES - TAKE IT EASY

          I awoke this morning to a latent dawn; the weeping willow tree just outside our bedroom window glowing with happiness; golden tears dripping from its leaves.  As I lay in bed, I could hear forest birds chirruping gaily; many of their fledglings now with lives of their own flitting from branch to branch with merriment.  It's a peaceful Sunday morning here on Golden Unicorn Farm and the numerous thunder storms that have passed over during the past week that cracked the heavens asunder, have helped keep our garden watered and the rain barrels filled to the brim.  I wish that people the world over could awake to such a day; for me a day of accomplishment for working hard last week and then being allowed to rest without the worry of famine and deadly political unrest.

Clayton Clark Bush-Hogging the Goat Pasture

          The past week has rushed on by and if it weren't for some of my friends giving me a helping hand some of the time, I'd be so far behind schedule that I'd be thinking I was in front if it were a race.  Clayton, although at age 76, is still going strong, one evening, after working all day under the hot sun, managed to bush-hog the pasture where the goats, chickens and the dog will soon be roaming.  The tractor has been parked in the back yard the last few days waiting for Clayton to return and patch up one of the big tires that's gone flat because there's still about 7 more acres remaining to bush-hog.  He's a busy man this time of year mowing people's lawns and both the cemeteries but being a man of his word, he'll be by as soon as he's able.  

  Charlie Gould & His Big Rig with Dougie Clark (no relation to Clayton) Looking On

          It seemed as if Clayton had no sooner turned off the tractor's ignition, that Charlie and Dougie arrived the next morning with a flat-deck crane and heavy-duty dump truck to haul away about 7 huge boulders that had been placed in a long row by Bobby Farrell to separate the two properties  - he'd be having a feud with Hayden Higgs (person we bought our home from) about some personal matters.  Since I bought Bobby's 25 acres last fall and as much as I sort of liked the boulders where they were situated, I had them all removed except for two, they were too far back to grab a hold without destroying a chunk of the pasture.

  "Buddy" About to Haul Sign to Woodstock

        

          While all the necessary commotions that were going on, in between working on the attached barn, I managed to letter a 20' sign for the Woodstock Farm and Craft Market.  Although I've been doing most of my signs using a computer and a vinyl letter-cutting machine, I decided to break out the quills and 1-Shot (enamel sign paints) and letter this one by hand.  I was glad to see that I hadn't lost my touch and am thinking that since, I'm not really in the sign game in a big way any longer, I'm going to use the brush a lot more often.  Old "Buddy" our big-ass diesel truck that hauled all our stuff across pretty much a huge portion of Canada last summer is still going strong - hauling lumber, manure and of course the big sign. 

My Friend George Probst Helping with the Barn

          Finally, the roof, which was probably the most difficult to build is completed except for the metal cap, which I will attach tomorrow - today I'm going to pick berries and take it easy somewhat.  I have no idea how many boards it took to cover the roof, then a roll of tar paper and lastly sheets of ribbed metal - by the time I finished screwing all the screws in between thunder showers and radiating heat from the sun, both my hands were sore and my legs ached - first time I ever got a cramp in my hip - must have been the contained position I had to maintain for long periods of time to keep from sliding off the roof.  It was definitely a two man job to get the steel sheets into place and George was amazing when he figured out the last intricate piece to be laid - had some angles that were way beyond me.  Much of the interior has been completed, only the two outside doors remaining before the animals and chickens have a home.  However, that being said, there is still a lot of work remaining on the barn; battens to be nailed in place to prevent the wind and snow from penetrating the walls, laying nests and two ramps yet to build - mustn't forget the remaining part of the fence too; needs some wire stretched across it.  

          Ahh, but it's Sunday now at the base of Green Mountain, and although the day is going to be hot, I shall not work very hard and give my body a wee rest.  Picking raspberries and red currants should be easy as long as the mosquitoes aren't waiting for me. 

A RESTLESS NIGHT

          I don't know why but I had another restless night here at the base of Green Mountain at Golden Unicorn Farm.  Perhaps some unknown nocturnal god was angry because as I tossed and turned attempting to grab a few more zzz's before I was completely awake, I saw flashes of lightning flickering through the leaves at the edge of the forest and heard a slight rumbling in the distance.  Since our well is running on empty and realizing the garden was in need of a good dump of rain, I was glad to hear that the storm was rapidly approaching.  When shafts of lightning soon lit the sky directly around our house and the crack of thunder was almost deafening, I leaped out of bed, wearing nothing but my undershorts, and hurried outside to uncover the rain barrels so they could be refilled with rain.  The rain was coming down in torrents by that time and I had no sooner taken the lid off the rain barrel just outside the front door when a rush of water spurted from the eaves trough and into the barrel.  The rain was heavy and felt warm on my body in the cool night air; a refreshing way to greet the morn.
          Yesterday was hot, barely a whiff of breeze could be felt as I worked away on the barn's roof; at first worrying whether or not I had salvaged enough lumber from Glenn McLean's old barn to finish the job and then feeling a sense of relief after I passed the half way point and realizing there were still plenty of remaining boards.  My shirt was soaked with sweat as it poured from my body under the hot sun.  I felt as though I was melting as I chugged liters of cold water while sawing boards and pounding nails during what seemed an endless time of climbing up and down a ladder.  I guess the ladder must have been a little pissed at me for climbing up and down it so often because suddenly one of the legs broke apart as I stepped on the bottom rung and a sharp piece of thin metal, which was holding it together took a little chunk of flesh out of one of my fingers.  Since Sarah had some customers in her little coffee shop, I tried to ignore the blood but each time the hammer struck the head of a nail, it spurted from the wound and began dripping a little too much so I was forced to seek out a band aid.  Fortunately, like many of her customers who live in close proximity to the shop who I had previously met and shook hands with, I wasn't introduced to anyone.
          Dawn must be breaking across the distant ridge by now but since the sky is covered with dark clouds, it still looks like night time.  A gathering of moths are assaulting the glass door to the studio in their attempts to reach the light and I have yet to hear the birds cheerfully greeting the day.  The rain stopped almost as suddenly as it appeared after the storm traveled over the ridge and rumbled off into the distance.  I'm hoping the day is a touch on the cool side; it'll make working on the roof a lot more pleasant, especially while applying the tar paper to its surface.  I doubt very much that I will have enough time to start screwing the sheets of corrugated metal to the roof today and I'm really looking forward to getting that part done because it shouldn't take too much longer after that to get the windows and doors in place - George Probst, a good friend of mine, said he would give me a hand with that part - I seem to have a little trouble installing doors and I am worried about the windows since I've heard they can break once the frost arrives and the building settles.  I didn't have a problem with the windows I put in my studio last year but then they weren't installed in a new building that's attached to the garage, so that's probably the reason.
          The sumac trees just outside my studio window are now silhouetted against a pastel bluish grey sky and after the thunder and lightning storm that passed over Golden Unicorn Farm, all is very quiet.  I enjoy this solitude time reflecting on my past chores and the chores still lying ahead and as odd as it may seem, winter and its lacking of busyness is something I'm already looking forward to; a chance for my body to take a break and let my mind roam freely in the world of fantasies.     

BY THUNDER - WHERE IS TIME GOING?

Thundercloud Building Over the Ridge

          Last night, as darkness was beginning to prevail, I watched a thundercloud building over the ridge at the back end of the 50 acres; shafts of lightning could be seen illuminating its interior.  Unfortunately, although I snapped quite a few photos of the ominous cloud, not one lightning bolt was captured by the camera.  Before the arrival of the thundercloud, the day had been hot and muggy and since our well water is very low, the torrential deluge that soon followed was welcomed; the garden was needing a good drink.  The rain drops were huge and warm; they felt good pounding on my bare upper torso as I stood in the rain, Sarah soon joining me at the back of the house to enjoy the evening downpour, our bodies glinting in the luminous glow of the lightning flashes; alive with the accompany of rolling thunder.

Barn's Progress

          All the walls on the barn have been completed; only the roof awaits my trusty hammer and nails.  Sarah has informed me that our three dozen chickens are ready to be picked up.  However, after all the help I had at the barn-raising a little while back, working alone is definitely a lot slower.  Up and down the ladder I go, measuring and remeasuring, finding and cutting suitable boards in the dwindling stack of salvaged barn boards and then nailing them in place is quite time consuming.  With mostly 1"x4" boards remaining in a variety of lengths, it's going to take quite awhile to cover a 12'x27' roof and then screw metal sheets to it.  I was hoping to have the barn habitable by the end of this week, so we could at least get the chickens but I have to put it on hold because I have a 2'x20' sign to letter for the Woodstock Farmer's Market, which has to be ready by this Friday.  I promised a smaller sign for this Friday as well, so I'm afraid the chickens will have to wait, much to the chagrin of the person who is selling them to us - we were supposed to have picked them up a week ago.  The people we bought the dog from is also a bit frustrated, since we said we would pick up Luki in June and now August is coming over the horizon faster than a lighning bolt.

          The newly opened coffee shop looks as if it's beginning to catch on in the small community of Fosterville.  Sarah's tasty baking is a hit with the locals and the coffee tastes as good as Tim Horton's, so we've been told.  Like most farm businesses, unless it's a huge conglomerate, there's not much profit in it and that's alright with us as long as it mostly pays for itself.  Our aim is to be as self-sufficient as possible, especially with the shortage of food rising at an alarming rate.  

          Since Sarah's return from BC without her two girls, the house is very quiet.  I'm quite enjoying the peacefulness but I'm sure Sarah is really missing Jessica and Rachel, especially Jessica since she's almost like her shadow; hardly ever lets mom out of her sight.  It's odd, we left the busyness of Nanaimo and yet as strange as it seems, we are almost busier now than we were before.  However, that being said, our time here at the base of Green Mountain seems to be more rewarding - we've made some very good friends and I find the physical demand much to my liking even if I do ache a hell of a lot.  

          Well writing a blog isn't getting my chores done, so I best get at lettering the signs so I can resume building the barn or by the time the chickens, goats and dog arrive, I'll be older than Methusela.   

THE HAPPIEST TIME IN MY LIFE

          Do you ever wonder when you were the happiest in your life? For me and most likely for a lot of other people, it was shortly after I was born.  I mean we all have happy times, happy events and happy special occasions like the first or last marriage, first or last baby, first or last kiss.  But when I think about it; after the doctor hung me by my heels and then slapped my pudgy little bottom for the first time until I let out a painful bellow that I'm sure is still reverberating in the halls of the Prince George General Hospital for almost 70 years now, the best time of my life had to have been when I was just a wee, cuddly babe.  Yup, thanks for the mammories mom; (a walkin', talkin' food supply) from my first day of birth until I was weaned, all I had to do was wrap my mouth around a swollen hard nipple and suck away; warm, tasty milk by the gulp every time I made a fuss (perhaps that's why to this very day, I'm still partial to a woman's breasts).
          Talk about being the centre of attention.  Didn't matter if I looked like a cutsie cherub or Sir Winston Churchill; everyone, I mean everyone including strangers casually walking down the street that stopped, curled back the corner of the little blue blanket to take a look at wee Lenny sucking on his little pink thumb, thought I was just the most adorable little baby.  Even if I happened to projectile vomit at that particular moment, they would simply smile and comment, "Aww, look, you made a little messy all over yourself and in my face too.  But that's alright, mommy's going to clean you all up."  I could do no wrong, fill my diapers, pee on someone - it was just the cutest thing ever.  I'd hate to do that now - I'd be in "the home" so fast, the wind on my face would wipe out all the wrinkles.  Of course my dad was as proud as a peacock, struttin' all around, a permanent smile pressed into his face as he passed out cigars to his friends and relatives saying, "That's my boy!"  Which of course was followed by, "Aww, he looks just like you; he has no teeth."  (I never knew my father with teeth - he had them all out when he was a young man and never wore dentures - found out the hard way that a person doesn't really have to have teeth - yup, he bit me!)
          Unlike some babies when they're born, they're as bald as a McIntosh apple and just as red; I had a full head of blonde curly hair and my complexion was pink, which of course just drove the women wild (even as I grew older, the girls just loved my curly hair) and what's a baby or a guy to do, why of course, take advantage of one's assets - over the years, many a girl and young woman have ran their fingers through my curly tresses - have to say it feels rather nice too!)  For the first time anyone saw me they would say, "Aww, look at all those shiny blonde curls!  (They're platinum blonde now, actually wavy and white.)   Aww, look at those big blue eyes!  (They're dark brown now.)  And, "Aww, look at that big smile!"  (Still smilin' after all these years.)  I of course can't remember what my first word was but it wouldn't surprise me if it was "aww".
          How can being a baby, not be the happiest time in my life.  I mean no worries, no bills, no commitments and no taxes - it has to be the best time in a person's life.  I got to be cuddled and cooed all the time; fed faster than a McDonald's take-out window; I could do no wrong.  I even had my own personal serenader, "Mama's gonna love you, yes I am - mama's gonna love you my little man."  And if I bawled in the middle of the night, screamed bloody murder - what was my reward - my mom's breast to suck on while she rocked me in her arms - I mean hey, it doesn't get any better than that.  Yup, without a doubt, the happiest time of my life was when I was just a wee, widdow baby in my mommy's arms.  No doubt about it the best suit I ever wore, including the fancy tuxedo at my last wedding, was my baby fat! 
          Here's a little ditty I just wrote for this blog; I can hum it, sing it, but I can't write the music.

Take Me Back to My Baby Fat

(Chorus)
Take me back; take me back
When I was just a bundle of baby fat
Looked so cute; could do no wrong
Awwwwwwwwwwwww - cut me some slack!

I'm pushin' seventy, aint a spring chicken
Grouchy and pouchy, bent and slouchy
Got most of my teeth, that's a good thing
But my hair - more where there was none
And none where there should be some
Awwwwwwwwwwww - cut me some slack!

(Repeat the Chorus)
The golden, goldy years"; nah, they're mouldy years
Achy and breaky, slow and quaky
Mind like a steel trap, now where's the key
Forgotten more than I've ever learned
And don't wanna learn no more
Awwwwwwwwwwww - cut me some slack!

(Repeat the Chorus)
Don't know where I'm goin'; doesn't matter much
Grouchy, pouchy, achy or quaky
I'm on my way out, don't give a damn
Life's been a blast, may not be the end
And if it is, that's awright
Awwwwwwwwwwww - cut me some slack!

(Last Chorus same as the first)