Typically, I have a love/hate relationship with the weather, but right now it’s mostly hate. It is causing one heck of a mess around here. The grossness isn’t just about inconvenience, it is causing a lot more work too. The ice caused a lot of limbs to fall, and of course loads of mud. While these photos are from the first ice round, I thought it appropriate considering yesterday’s ice and today’s rain.
During all the cleanup, there was a bit of an accident too.
How? Well, let’s just say boys will be boys, and let the next picture do the rest of the talking…
Yes, that is sword fighting. Everything turned out fine, though. Mom cleaned up Isaac’s wound and put some butterfly strips on it. He was good to go, and now has a cool upside down v scar.
Needless to say, the weather is taking bit of a toll on us. It’ll be fine, though. We’ll just keep praying for sunshine.
As I was flipping through photos, I was struck by what a great life farming provides. Sure it is hard work and dirty, but there is no better place to grow up in my opinion.
I always knew that I enjoyed the farm life, but wasn’t sure if I was an anomaly. There is a 12 and 13 year age gap between my youngest brothers and myself. This has allowed me to really take in what it is like growing up on a farm. I’m thoroughly convinced that we are incredibly blessed to live this life.
Recently, a woman visiting the farm mentioned that this was her daughter’s dream. I mulled that over. My reality was her dream. Wow! How lucky am I? How lucky are my brothers?
Living on a farm can be inconvenient, dirty, and hard. Going on vacation means finding someone to feed the stock. After a ball game on Saturday, we return to make fence repairs, medicate animals, or clean barns out. By a young age, we kids know and have experienced the miracle of life and the woes of death. Everyday is a go outside day (sometimes it is just a matter of how fast can we feed).
BUT, living on a farm is… well, just scroll through the photos. It is the life of my brothers. It is the life of farm boys.
Every animal (minus the poultry) that has come on our farm has been named. For over a decade, I took the lead in naming everything. I even had a name book and have frequented baby naming sites solely for the purposes of naming animals. Some of my favorite names have been London, Cairo, and Fancy. Some of the more unique ones have been Technical Difficulties (he was always causing issues) and Slim Jim. Naming an animal was always thought out, and often times, they would go days without a name just to make sure their name matched their personality. It is one of my favorite parts of having livestock; however, my job has begun to be taken over by my little brothers recently. That is a tough pill to swallow.
It isn’t that I necessarily mind that they are naming the animals (I make sure I get a few to name), but it is more what they are naming them. The latest twin goats that were born are just an example.
Lady had her first set of kids this week–two big girls (11 and 8 pounds). They are really beautiful, and I was quite excited about how they looked. I felt that they should have pretty names, but Isaac and Gideon wanted to name them. I was ok with this and was hoping I could throw some good names they liked out there. I was wrong.
I found the babies and called for the boys to come out and come look. The following conversation ensued:
Isaac: “Lady! Look how pretty your babies are. Aren’t you a good momma? Risa, Lady is my show goat, that means I name the babies right?”
Me: “Lady is yours but the buck is mine.”
Isaac: “That’s true. Can I still name them?”
Me: “We will talk about different names, but you can name them.”
Gideon: “Tres! We should name that one Tres. That is the number 3 in Spanish right?”
Me: “Let’s just wait until tomorrow to name them that way we can think on it.”
The next day while we were feeding, Isaac and Gideon came riding up on the golfcart saying “How are Tres and Mud doing?”
Me: “Who and who?”
Gideon: “That’s their names–Tres and Mud.”
All I could think was dear heavens, I’m going to have pretty little does named after wet dirt and the other after a foreign number 3.
Me: “Ummm… well… I was thinking since the mom is named Lady, we could do something like Duchess.”
Grandma: “What about Maddie and Tae? They are country singer girls that were on TV.”
Gideon: “No, no, Tres. Her name is Tres.”
Isaac: “How about Mud Pie?”
Me: “Why Mud?”
Isaac: “Her face looks like mud to me.”
Later I went in the house and told Mom: “I need a hug. I have baby goats named after Spanish 3 and mud.”
So, yes, I swallowed the pill, stepped down from my position as namer and relinquished the reigns to an 8 and 10 year old. I’ve had a good run (I’m still adamant that I get to name things; I just have to share, and the boys are good with this), and at least I could name some of the babies this year. Speaking of those guys, here are some updated pictures of all the little ones. They are growing super fast.
Sandwiched between all the boys in the house (so much testosterone), I, like many others, watched the Oregon vs. Ohio game last night. It was a great game, and quite honestly, I wouldn’t have minded either team winning; however, I decided at the start of the game, I should pick a side. I became a Buckeye fan for the night. This was a smart move on my part since they won. Hurrah!
Now, I must confess a few things–1) I love a good game of football, but I like the food better. There, I said it. 75% of why I’m in it is for the food. Well, maybe 65%. I do enjoy the company, hype, and the game too. 2) I am forever craving wings. When I was in a dorm at Campbell University, I discovered that the campus convenient store (conveniently located beside my dorm) carried frozen hot wings. I’d take them back and microwave them. During exams, it and sweet tea were my go to stress relief. Because of my craving for wings, I am constantly looking for excuses to get them (do I really need to have an excuse? I should evaluate that…). The football game became a perfect excuse. So, we cooked wings. 3) My last confession is I LOVE Pinterest. Forget Google, I typically go straight to Pinterest. My brother Gideon has learned that if Risa is cooking, it is probably something new from Pinterest. He is normally dubious. Anyways, I wanted dip for last night in addition to the wings. Naturally, I consulted Pinterest. I found a recipe for Sinful Dip. It looked heavenly (is that an oxymoron?). It was easy to make and tasted so good. So good in fact, that I didn’t get a picture until part of it was devoured. Oops!
You get the picture, though. I made a few changes to the original recipe like using bacon instead of ham (Yay for pork!). Personally, I think that was a no brainer. So, here is the sinful dip. I hope you enjoy!
16oz sour cream
8oz cream cheese, softened
2 cups shredded cheddar cheese
1/2 cup of bacon bits
1/4 tsp of hot sauce
1 tsp of Worcestershire sauce
Mix the ingredients together and place in a small casserole dish. Bake at 350 for 30-45 minutes. Serve with crackers or chips.
After 6 hours on the road, my brother, Alec and I finally made it home with two new show goats.
The little does were born in September and October. They have some growing to do, but I think they have some great potential. Without further adieu welcome this year’s goats for the spring show and sale in April to the farm.
I would like to introduce Hershey, shown by Gideon…
And Reeses, shown by Isaac.
The boys were super excited to see their new goats, weigh them, and introduce them to their new home.
Within 5 minutes, they were already wanting to practice showing them with collars and leashes. I told them they might want the newbies to get used to everything first. They agreed that rubbing them would suffice for now.
Of course, I had to snap a picture of the new additions for you guys. Can you say #blogger’slife?
Even Sassy, the barn cat, had to come check things out.
Stay tuned for two more little girls that will be added to the farm within the coming days. These ones will be much more pink and will say oink!