Macro Monday: Garden Memento

This weekend I cut the asparagus patch back to the ground, and fondly came across some bits of Phoebe's wool stuck to the seed pod of this Thornapple, Datura metel.

I love this one because you can see the garden gate, which is in my header. We are still having 'fall color' with the blackberry canes on the bottom left.

I need to cut this plant back, too. Perhaps I will bring the dried stems in with the wool and place them with Avo's feathers.

For more up-close and personal photography, visit Macro Monday.

Sunday Stills: My Best Shots of Sunday Stills 2009

Our assignment was to pick our two most favorite Sunday Stills photos from 2009 and tell what we like about them. I have chosen two very different kinds of images.

The first one, from May, was about the Color Yellow. Here Dodder, a stringy, yellow plant, floats in the river reflecting the storm above. (That black blob at the bottom may even be my reflection).

Looking back, it almost seems portentous: this might have been the last rain and river flow before our horrendous drought, the worst in recorded history, and the most predominant thing filling the river was this parasitic plant. I have never seen so much of it.

What I like about this shot is the abstract composition, layered depths of field, and emotional moodiness. It is at once mysterious yet accessible--you know what it is but you really aren't sure what it is. It reminds me of the Japanese Ukiyo-E "pictures of a floating world" style of woodblock prints.

The second photo was from October, the Letter C, of my chicken and cardigan. I love this photo for sentimental reasons--I would never have guessed at the time Avo, my favorite rooster would be gone in a couple months. He was always willing to pose and I only recently realized images of him fill about 25% of my archive.

Photographically it has wonderful color and detail from natural lighting--the eye shine is there and the comb almost glows and just enough blur for the cardigan to be a cardigan without competing with the main subject. I could have made this happen in Photoshop, but effortlessly it was taken in one clean shot without any post-production. Although I love Photoshop, my life would be a lot easier if I could take a better shot to begin with.

I think the eight months I have participated in Sunday Stills has helped me improve in how I think about, compose, and display my photography. Thanks for the opportunity Ed!

For more best shots visit Sunday Stills!

Out with the Old

2009 was a frustrating and sad year for so many people, I know many of us are happy to see it in the rear view mirror, a disappearing speck on the horizon. Authorities have it that we should all study history, lest we become doomed to repeat it, so before ushering in the New, I am taking a parting glimpse at the Old.

Spring was lost to illness from taking rabies shots. Nearly a year later, and after a recent subrogation interview assuring Blue Cross I did not ask the fox for his insurance card, they have decided to cover little more than half of the exorbitant cost of the vaccines for something known to be 100% fatal. We send them hundreds of dollars each month for "health insurance".  A perfect example of a failed health care system.

Lesson learned: Always carry gloves. Note to self: Contact the Texas Board of Insurance.

Summer broke all records for drought and heat and saw both the river and our well run dry. This took its toll on us psychologically--the lack of something so precious we had not even realized we'd taken for granted--and physically--from hauling tons of water, 5 gallon 40 lb buckets at a time.

Lesson learned: Never take any of life's conveniences for granted and be prepared to live without them. Ditch your old toilet--a low flush toilet not only helps save the planet, a 10 lb flush vs a 40 lb flush will also save your back. Note to self: Start planning a rainwater harvesting system.

Fall and winter brought the general downfall of the plumbing infrastructure of our 80 year old house and loss of many beloved pets. Nothing like living in a paradox where you have very little water, but what there is seems to be leaking all over the place. We said farewell to Hawk Girl, Rooster-O, Phoebe, Avo from a tragedy that could have been averted had I only listened to that little voice, Zoe, and even the tenacious Captain Ahab our special needs RIR rooster 'added for warmth' with a broken leg from the hatchery, who mysteriously passed this New Year's Eve.

Lesson learned: Always, always listen to your intuition. Note to self: House wiring is just as old. Best time to replace is before the fire.

Hoping everyone had a safe and fun New Year's Eve. Wishing everyone a fabulous 2010!

Want

It's been over two weeks now since Avo's untimely death and I have been distracted by handymen replacing our crumbling and clogged 80 year old pipes. I decided to buck up this afternoon and go out to the sheep pen and visit Finley.

He was very stiff in stance and looked older, less innocent. A small trickle of blood was coming down one of his horns which appeared to have a small puncture wound, like maybe he butted his head against a nail...or perhaps it was part of the unfortunate scenario. (Later Rick and I flushed it out. He had noticed it, but badly needing new glasses, thought it was just a glump of dirt).

I went to the shed and began picking up feathers, making a little bouquet in my hand, tears streaming down my face. As it started to come together and look like a familiar chicken Finley came over. I held it out to him and he sniffed it. Then he lowered his head and used his hoof to make the 'I want' sign and I started weeping.

I want him back, too, Finley.

So whatever happened involving the sheep that ended the life we knew as Avo it was very clear Finley was missing him, too.

Until Death Do Us Part | Part Two

After coming home from judging UIL Storytelling this evening I found Avo's crumpled and muddy body next to the sheep shed. It appears he was stomped to death by Finley. I had noticed a little aggression recently and the thought that this could happen even briefly ran through my head this morning.

But they had lived together for three years since Finley's birth, and just the other day on our walk Finley was concerned his chicken had fallen behind. I cannot claim to know what goes on in the sheep mind. Avo could fly up and out of the pen if he needed to I told myself. He did it all the time. I wish I had listened to that little voice. I even had the thought since Phoebe's passing that maybe it was time for Avo to live with his own feathered people again. Take up with a nice Ameraucana hen.

Avo is in my blog mast head, and in my lap on the holiday cards yet to print. The card that won't get printed now. He's all over my blog as he loved to be photographed. So much for our peaceable kingdom. I can hardly bear the heaviness this season has already brought. He was the best chicken, and will be in my heart forever. There will never be another chicken like him. I knew this day would be hard, but I never knew it would come so soon or by the hoof of another loved one. I feel like it was my fault for not listening to my intuition. This is a tough one. We just buried him on top of his beloved Phoebe.

I'm going to take a break from blogging for a while.

Until Death Do Us Part

I should have known something was up when Avo was crowing at 2:30 a.m. This morning we found Phoebe laid out cold on our morning rounds, and on closer inspection her remaining blind eye, as blue as the Earth from space, blinked. We moved her into the sun where I fed her warm molasses water with electrolytes. She perked up a little and gummed an apple and some alfalfa, but went slowly downhill and passed in my arms.

She had been feisty, her usual self in the days before. The only thing I noticed was she was foaming around the mouth whenever she ate the last couple days, and today discovered a hard mass under her jaw and she appeared anemic. 

Nobody knew how old she was when we found her three years ago by the side of the road, poorly cared for, blind, and presumably hit by a car. She always looked sort of rag tag, but we gave her the best of care and loved her just the same. Because of the neurological damage she always walked in circles and her hooves grew shaped like bananas because she always went in the same direction. You could tell her general mood by the diameter of the circle. Our vet didn't think she'd make it, but she was one tough sheep. So tough--and much to our surprise--she dropped a lamb a few weeks later--two rescues for the price of one!

The vet did not expect Finley to live either, but, of course, he did too. For Avo the outcast rooster, she became the big fuzzy hen of his dreams and she put up with him in a way no one else would. They were inseparable. Farmer Rick and I are heartbroken, and Finley and Avo will be at a loss without her.

This video was taken just last month, you can see the happy trio together.





Interestingly, right before Phoebe passed a raven flew overhead in the direction of North. Native Americans believed the raven was an omen of death, and that they carried the souls of the dead away. North represented winter and old age.

Farmer Rick had to leave for a school rehearsal, and we will bury her before the evening performance. Death is never convenient. We put Finley out to graze earlier and I just let him back into the pen to say farewell. He did not seem to recognize or even be curious about the lifeless body of his mother; instead he looked in all directions crying out for the life force he once knew her as.

Sunday Stills: The Letter 'C'

I know what you are thinking...being the Crazy Chicken lady and all...but you are mistaken!

Yesterday we drove to Kerrville to get groceries and have some fun. For us this means Coffee shops, book stores, and thrift stores. The Coffee was Consumed too rapidly for photography. We passed by a terrible Car Crash surrounded by several Cops on the way, but I thought it would be inappropriate to photograph someone's Crisis. I wanted to find something a bit more Creative.

One of my favorite place to shop for Clothes is a thrift store that supports a ranch near us for troubled Children.

I love shopping at thrift stores because it is like a treasure hunt--you never know what Collectible you may find. Purchasing there, I am able to Conserve my money while supporting a great Cause.

I love things that have been Crafted by hand. Looking for something with the Colors of fall, I Caught sight of this Captivating item.

At only $4 I did not have to Contemplate long on making a purchase.

How often does one Come across such a Charming Cardigan? It was hard Contain my good Cheer as our nights are getting Cooler and I was hoping to Cuddle up in something Chic.

Epilogue:

After 10 stops in 9 hours and 150 miles would you believe we discovered--after hearing its plaintive Cries--one of the young Cats from our Carport inside our Car engine? After several roadside attempts, it would not allow us to Capture or extract it, so presumably it made it home. It is most fortunate its Cleverness did not end in a Catastophe!

Avo thinks we should have taken him along instead, as it's a Cinch to Control a Chicken by Comparison! For a more Comprehensive Contemplation on the letter 'C' visit Sunday Stills!

Animal Communication on the Farm

Avo and Finley as his "peep"

Lately, I have seen evidence of communication between chickens and sheep.

First, we noticed Avo the rooster is able to call Phoebe, our blind ewe, to food. When we throw "salad" (garden weeds) into the sheep pen Avo engages in "tidbitting," a form of communication between a rooster and his hens, where the rooster picks up a found object (usually edible), drops it repeatedly while clucking, in an attempt to draw his hens to him. Because Phoebe is blind, she can't easily find her pile of weeds as her son Finley can find his. So Avo tidbits over her weed pile until she locates it by the sound.

Sunday I discovered our sheep understand rooster warnings. While the sheep were grazing the garden paths under my supervision, Avo noticed the neighbor's dog through the fence running on the far side of their property. Chickens have a disctinctive high trill for airborne predators, and a low growl for ground predators. Avo let out a long, low growl and Finley, who was grazing with his back to the fence and could not possibly have seen the dog, jumped up in the air and ran to me, clearly understanding there was danger.

Finley and I have our own communication language. He has a way of "pawing" me when he wants attention. It's his way of saying "I want." If I mimic his motions first, he understands that if he comes I will pet him. Here are a couple of videos.





He is more like a dog than a sheep, and he wasn't a bottle baby.  He loves attention so much I call him the mutton glutton!

Sunday Stills: Rule of Thirds

After telling everybody I've been using the Rule of Thirds for a while, do you think I could get the animals to cooperate?

Avo, King of the Sheep (or Fuzzy Hens as he prefers) kept trying to explain the Rule of Twenty Sevenths. It was beyond me.

Finley suggested I use the fence to do my proportioning, although he says he prefers using the fence to scratch his rear ear.

Zoe the Apenzeller Spitzhauben hen and the yet unnamed White Crested Black Polish rooster just gave me a look like I am crazy...and of course, I am the Crazy Chicken Lady around these parts. If you have a good name for him, I'm taking suggestions.

For more Rule of Thirds visit Sunday Stills!

Sunday Stills: Eyes

These eyes belong to Francisco, our Husky-wolf rescue dog. He's afraid of storms, gunshots, fireworks, and other dogs. Oddly, he gets along well with cats.

This fearful eye belongs to Cody, our Chow mix that was severely abused by his first owner. I have spent years helping to restore his trust in people.

This is the blind eye of Phoebe, our rescue sheep, looking like the Earth from the moon. Her other eye unfortunately had to be removed because of damage. I found her dying on the side of the road, where we suspect she'd been hit by a car. The vet did not want to tell me she probably wouldn't make it.

But she did, through much nurturing. And--a big surprise to us all--delivered Finley a month later. We had no idea we were rescuing two! He has beautiful eyes.

And of course, the eye of Avo, their rooster. He thinks Phoebe is his big, fuzzy "hen" and is certain Finley is his son. His secret desire is for all of us to be part of his flock.

Check out all the other eyes at Sunday Stills.

Ideal

This morning I caught this beetle on a flower known as Crow Poison, Nothoscordum bivalve. Over the next week I will be sharing the various native wildflowers blooming on the farm. Because of the exceptional drought there aren't the usual big stands of things, but most species are represented if you are willing to look for them. I had the pleasure of guiding some folks from out of state recently who were interested in the flora of the Hill Country.

Normally the short grass prairie would be so full of flowers you could not leave the path without stepping on one.

The garden is looking good, although we are behind on planting many things.

The lettuce grew so slowly, even with irrigation, that by the time it was the right size to eat it was already bitter.

Farmer Rick has been doing a great job with the compost process. We will be adding more bins across the creek near the new coop once it is finished.

A week ago we heard the Chuck Wills Widow calling from the creek. It is such an ethereal sound. Wednesday the Hooded Oriole and his gal showed up at their feeder. It's nice to have them back.

I wish I could say the same for the bird that sings (if you can call it that!) so loudly by my bedroom window that I cannot get a good night's sleep. He showed up for the second year in a row on Tuesday. My friend Bob B. helped me identify it as the Yellow-Breasted Chat, Icteria virens. Their song is described as "an odd, variable mixture of cackles, clucks, whistles and hoots. Their calls are harsh chak's". To this I would add very loud, and continuous from midnight to 5 a.m. I've started turning the sprinkler on under the tree all night to shoo him off. I hear him in the back keeping the sheep awake now.

After all, Finley is already used to annoying birds.

Avo...well he's just Avo. What can be said for a rooster in love with a blind sheep and thinks he has fathered Finley? (Notice how he's posing by the word Ideal?)

Here's Finley's idea of the ideal rooster...

Phoebe loses an eye!

This morning when I went out to feed, I had a few treats for Phoebe--the ends of carrots and broccoli left over from last night's dinner. Finley, her son, won't touch them, so that means more for her! While she was searching my hand for another morsel I noticed a trickle of blood running down her face, and then--in horror--I noticed her right eye had ruptured! I won't describe it, but let's say it was not very pretty.

She was blind when we rescued her off the highway two years ago this month, but we thought she had shown some light sensitivity in this eye. This appeared to be her better eye, at least the one that was not entirely cloudy. I have to take her to the vet this afternoon, who is working us in, so that it can be surgically removed under general anesthesia. Poor Phoebe!

From her dreadlocky wool, battered horns, misshapen hoofs from walking in circles, and forever snotty nose she already has some huge challenges. And now this! She is one tough old sheep, that's for sure. What's also certain, is we will love her just as much, if not more. For Avo her rooster, love is truly blind.

Send us healing thoughts!


Early courtship of Avo and Phoebe, before the birth of Finley.