springfield

Daniel, the babies, and I went on a little road trip a few weeks ago in search of goats.  We have a goat who is a very good milker, but is also a terrible bully.  Now we can add "murderer" to her description, because she pushed our best milker off a cliff (they like to eat around the edge of a limestone quarry we have on the farm).  So off we went in search of another goat.

There are many Mennonite communities in Belize.  They vary in how conservative they are, but they all focus on agriculture (here is a little bit about another community we've visited).  We headed to a community that we have bought goats from before hoping for good luck-- this is a very conservative community, so we couldn't call ahead.  I always forget how beautiful this part of Belize is.  If it weren't so far from Daniel's job, I would work really hard to convince him we should move there. 

The way of life in this community is so appealing to me.  There is no electricity, no cars. It is just peaceful.  The stoves are wood-fired, and everything else is horse-powered, including the saw mill.  The houses are simple and spotlessly clean, with rows and rows of canned fruit and veggies and meat lining the kitchens. Porches are wide, with hammocks and swinging benches, and everyone we have met is so friendly and inviting.  Even though we interrupted their day with no warning, friends we haven't seen in over a year all gathered to chat on the porch, and invited us to stay and eat lunch. 

And yes, we did find a goat, who was very indignant at being stuffed in the trunk of my car and hauled home.  She's happy now, though... and we are keeping a close eye on our assassin goat.

making hay while the sun shines

Farming, man.  It's stressful.
This year we decided for the first time to cut and bale hay.  The thing with this process is the hay needs to be cut, allowed to dry on the ground for a few days, and then baled.  And the thing with living in the tropics, and this being the rainy, hurricane season, is that it rarely goes for more than a few days without raining.

This is the day we cut the grass-- notice, the nice, sunny blue skies.

Adding to the stress is that the farm does not own baling or mowing equipment, so we had to hire them... and Belizeans as a whole are quite relaxed about getting places on time. We spend a lot of time on the phone begging the operators to come RIGHT NOW because clouds were gathering on the horizon, and oh by the way a HURRICANE is supposed to hit tomorrow.  

And here is the baling, under grey skies....

After much worry and prayers to St Isadore (patron saint of farmers) we got all our hay baled and moved under shelter.  The weather held-- it didn't rain for three whole days-- and lucky for us the hurricane decided to go north.  Overall,  I now have much more respect for farmers who do this all the time.

a guide for a new farm girl

So my hard drive crashed last week... things are backed up, no worries, but I will be using my husband's computer for a few weeks which means no pictures.  Instead, I've decided to write some lists.  First up:  things you should know about if you suddenly find yourself living on a farm.  Useful!

1.  Close the gates.  ALWAYS close the gates.

2. Both male AND female cattle can have huge horns.  Use other....signs... to tell them apart.  Or your brothers-in-law will never let you forget it.

3. To catch a chicken:  wait till they are roosting somewhere at night.  Grab them by the feet and hold them with their heads hanging upside down.  For some reason this calms them and they hang there quietly.  My theory is the blood rushing to their tiny little brains allows them to become suddenly philosophical.

4.  Never learn how to do the following: drive a tractor, use a lawn mower, milk a cow.  If you don't know how to do these things, no one can make it your job.  This theory was confirmed when I found my poor nine-months-pregnant sister in law milking the cow one morning.

5. Rubber boots are essential.  They may not look super cute, but I am always thankful when I am wearing them.  This has been a hard lesson to learn.  It goes something like this: "walking in my cute new shoes, la la la... SQUISH!  #*%& COW!"

6. To herd cows/ goats/ chickens/ horses in the direction you want:  stand in the place you want them to walk away from, wave your arms around in the air and make SHH SHH SHH sounds.  You only feel like an idiot the first 50 or so times you do this. 

7. To hold a baby cow while it's mom is getting milked:  Grab it's head between your legs and hold on for dear life.  Be warned: it is very hard to hold a calf once it is older then 4 days or so.... and if you don't know this, someone will try to get you to hold an older calf and then fall down laughing when you get tossed by a tiny little cow.


8. Learn the differences between these: cow, bull, steer, ox, mare, gelding, stud, foal, colt.  Lesson-- a cow is not always a cow.

9. Close that gate.

ponies!!

I don't know why, but small ponies seem to elicit involuntary squeals of delight from everyone.

Here: a clip from Parks and Recreation (it's a tv show, Mom) to prove it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmhohRXn_LY

Anyways, last weekend we wandered down to my brother-in-law's house to borrow something, and happened upon these:

involuntary squeal: omygoshlook! PONIES! [each syllable higher in tone then the previous]

There is  something about small horses that no one can resist.  Even Daniel was taken with them; he has now given me permission to get one and keep it in our yard as the world's cutest lawn mower.

One of the best things about living on the farm is that random animals pop up all over.  My brother-in-law runs a horse back riding business, and decided to stock some ponies for kids to ride.  He didn't tell anyone, he just let them loose in the yard.

My nieces and nephews are coming back soon from a few months living in England.  I can't WAIT for the shrieks of joy when they find the ponies.

well, I married a farmer....

so what did I expect?

When I got my new car,  two rules were immediately instituted:

1. no borrowing by (crazy driver) brother-in-laws

2. NO ANIMALS in the car.

Yeah, that didn't last long.  The list to date:  3 rabbits, a rooster, and a goat.  Who screamed bloody murder the whole way home.  We put all the windows up when we were driving through town because we were afraid we would get stopped for kidnapping.

I like goats.  They are inquisitive and friendly, and pretty smart.  We keep goats for milk, because I can’t drink cows milk but goats milk doesn’t bother me.  Goats milk is great- it is creamy and goes really well with oreos and chocolate cake, which really should be the main function of milk.

Goats, however can be a real pain in the neck.  They are seldom happy where you put them, they want to be on the other side of that fence.  I’ve mentioned before that our goats have eaten probably more then they are worth in decorative plants.  And a few weeks ago, our male goat got in the yard and wiped out two large passion fruit vines in a matter of 15 minutes.

This is Homer.

This is what Homer did to my vine. Notice the lack of leaves.

Homer is very, very lucky that male dairy goats are so hard to find in Belize.  Otherwise, he would have been barbeque.

My mother in law even has a story about how their neighbor’s goats got into their watermelon patch and wiped out about a half acre of watermelons and vines in an afternoon.  But I never believed the stories about goats eating random stuff like tin cans and laundry.  Our goats have had ample opportunity to get into out laundry or eat random tin cans and never seemed interested.

This morning, however, I heard some weird crunching sounds coming from the front yard.  This is what I found:

Notice the teeth marks

Apparently the goat decided a plastic pot was just the thing to satisfy her this morning.  Forget the nice green grass growing around it.  When I tried to chase her away, she just looked at me like WHAT is your PROBLEM? No shame whatsoever.  Goats are very entitled creatures. 

One more example of weird animals:

This is our cow.  In our yard.

Eating the dog food.  

Small Ode to a Small Goat

As I feed you from a bottle

I try to remember your future:

Barbeque.