Here’s the surprise I’ve hinted at. After I got Andrew, Kathleen went to a horse rescue place and came home with two fine buckskin gentlemen, Remington (7) and Dusty (13).
Dusty, Remington, and Drew
When they got back with the new guys (who have all their shots and were checked out by a vet), they all said “hay” to each other and were fine. When they were let out together the next day, nothing but friendship ensued (and gentle nips). That was a good surprise.
Buddies.
Remington is a perfect quarter horse type. He’s really beautiful. He needs work on his neck, so Trixie is looking at him Monday. (She will look at them all.) but whoa, he can do stuff, potentially.
Mr Fancy
Dusty is older, very gentle, and will be a great guest horse. He used to be an elderly man’s horse, and was well loved. He loves carrots, and used to have the nickname Bunny. Aww. He likes to chew, too.
Dusty has two white socks.
We’ve spent most of today with these three, walking, learning, and having nice baths. That was fun!
Clean baby.
Much of the rest of the day we got the stalls and pasture ready for Apache. I even had to mow. I meant I got to mow.
On the left is Apache’s low grass.
Now Apache will have little grass just like he needs. Whew. We were outside all day!
I think Drew, my new colt, is annoyed with me. He had to go to the vet today, and I don’t think it was his favorite experience so far. He is really glad to be home.
Home at last.
It took us forever to get to the vet, who was in Waco, because we were behind a wind turbine propeller. Wow, it was slow. Thankfully, it stopped for a minute and we got past it.
Moving roadblock.
The vet place was nice, an all-equine practice. I was too busy paying attention and hoping Drew wouldn’t be too traumatized to take pictures, but I took a lot of notes! Here’s what I learned:
Drew is 14.1 hands high. That’s short, but he should end up about 15 hands, which is just fine. (A hand is 4 inches, and height is measured from the top of their shoulder, not their head.)
He is right at 3 years old, so I decided his birthday will be July 1.
Drew is not a red roan. He will be gray at adulthood. It will be so fun to watch him change!
He needs high-protein feed.
His facial features are a star on his forehead and a snip on his nose.
He is healthy as a…you know what.
He has a great face.
The people at the vet place were all so nice. A friendly old vet and a really helpful technician who gave me lots of helpful information. I sure appreciated it! Drew did not appreciate three shots, one nasal spray, and oral wormer. That’s why he’s pissed off.
Nice place
I enjoyed talking to some folks when I checked out, then we headed back, making better time. We had a fun stop at the Rosebud Feed and Seed. It’s a cute place and has its own brand of feed! We also found the brand of high-protein feed the vet tech recommended there, too.
It’s also fairly local!
By the time we got home, we were all wiped out. Poor Drew didn’t want to leave the trailer until Chris cowboyed him out. Now he is very happy with both grass and space to run.
New horse love
What about my other precious beloved equines? Well, now that Andrew is vaccinated and wormed, I can bring Apache and Fiona here! That excitement should commence tomorrow. Sara sure is glad, so the paddock can rest until Aragorn arrives.
This has fulfilled a prediction both Kathleen and I had made. You may remember that when Kathleen found out about Goldie, she was told Goldie was infertile, so of no use to the previous owners, who’d wanted to breed her. We don’t need puppies, so we were happy to take on a giant sweetie pie.
Bonus photo of Drew getting along with Vlassic just fine
Yesterday, I saw blood on the floor and thought yet another dog had cut itself on some random ranch hazard. But, later, Lee texted that “Goldie had started her period.” Oh my! She’s not infertile, she was just slow to mature, like a giant dog tends to be. That’s why we are giving her puppy food! It might also be that she was too thin to go into heat; who knows?
No more photos of blood! We’ve got it all under control, though, and we can get her spayed when this is over with (no, we do not want any giant hybrid puppies and are glad we know no intact make dogs). She’s being very clean, and all the other dogs are quite respectful of her.
The sun sets on Goldie’s childhood.
In other news, it just keeps raining. We’re supposed to take Drew to the vet in Waco today, so I sure hope it calms down soon. Mud is being produced! The weather has been great for mushrooms, though!
Big ole mushrooms
At least yesterday wasn’t too rainy, so I got to spend good time with Drew. We walked around the field, and of course he pooped on the driveway. Ah horses. He matched my every step, so I tried running a bit, and he trotted daintily along beside me. His trot is so pretty. It was a really happy time for me.
We were very coordinated yesterday. He is always looking at a dog.
And in other good news, we should be able to bring Apache and Fiona over to where Andrew is, so they can make friends and try out the stalls. I’m very excited about that. Crossing my fingers about the rain issue, but hey, the rain brings out a lot of cool insects, like giant walking sticks!
Lee’s hand is for scale.
Hoping you have a fun day, and that you like surprises. We may have more over here at the Hermits’ Rest!
Hungry. That’s how he is. Poor Andrew must have felt like he was in Heaven when he realized he was in a pen full of grass. As you can see in the photo below, he definitely mowed his pen quickly (photo was at 8:30 am).
Excuse me, I’d like more grass.
A second makeshift pen was quickly created for him, so now he has more grass to nosh on. I’m gonna bring him a bale of hay in a bit, just in case he needs it.
I need a little meat on my bones.
He’s got to grow, so he needs food! He has his veterinarian appointment tomorrow, so we will ask them what kind of food would be best for him, and I’m sure Trixie will have some ideas, too, when she sees him next week.
No more mud in my hair!
I had an hour between meetings, and since he’s right near the house, I was able to groom him a little. I got the mud off his mane and tail, and most of his legs, using extra tools we had at Sara’s (and I told her all about Drew when we met this morning to move Apache and feed him). Grooming was more difficult than it could have been because of his new best friend, Goldie.
What are you doing? Can I join you?
Goldie just thinks it’s cool to know a dog even bigger than herself, I think, and Drew is fine with her (he grew up with dogs). It’s just hard to groom with the dog running around.
I just wanna PLAY!
So, we are all having fun and getting acclimated. Meanwhile, Barbara the hen is still sticking with us, and getting around pretty well. The other chickens seem fine with each other, too, so maybe I’ll have more eggs soon!
Have a good day, and remember to focus on what’s good in your life; that often lets you handle your challenges with much more grace.
Now that we will be able to have horses at the Hermits’ Rest, Kathleen and I have been looking for horses. She has found one, and we get him Friday. More on that later. I wanted a sound, calm older horse that was not too pricey to take lessons on. I was not in a hurry, but looking around. But today, Kathleen saw an ad for a nice looking horse in Cuero.
Not bad looking
He was in my price range and was not bad looking. So, my nephew the horse trader talked to the owner, who had owned the colt (age 3) since he was really little and trained him. The conversation went well, so I canceled my afternoon meetings and hopped in the truck, trailer in tow, to check the young horse out.
A wet little horse.
We met the owner and followed him deeper and deeper into the countryside. It really is one of the prettiest parts of Texas, with huge oaks, rolling hills, and fine ranches. However, the horse was not in a fancy place; more like a mud pit. He was obviously loved, but not fed enough. He is thin and narrow.
Skinny boy
Poor baby. I’m lucky that the nephew trained horses in another life and knows what to look for. After he inspected the colt, he asked the owner to ride him. That’s always a good plan. That went well. So I got on him next.
Caution. Don’t ride without a helmet or where you can’t reach the stirrups.
I managed to get on without a riding block, which shows you he’s not very tall. Yay. And we had fun riding around, even though it was rather muddy. He was so easy to move and so responsive. Wow. I didn’t feel worried at all, even though I could not reach the stirrups. What a good boy.
A neighbor visited
To test his calm demeanor, a large pet pig wandered over to say hi. The horse paid attention to me and not the commotion. I was sold at that point.
We like each other.
So, after the mandatory country guy bonding and storytelling, we got the horse for less than advertised, and well within my budget. We let the horse, formerly called Blue, even though he is a red roan, eat as much grass as he wanted. He deserved it.
Finally I put my gaudy blue halter and lead on him, and declared him to be my colt, Andrew. Or Drew, which at least rhymes with Blue and will sound familiar. He’s named for my dad’s father, Andrew Kendall. (I once had a donkey named Oscar, after my mom’s father. Tradition. )
I’m not interested in this halter.
Into the trailer he went, and we wound our way out of the rural Cuero area (by the way, Drew lived on Kendall Road!), and headed back to the ranch. I’m sure grateful I had help with this! Horse buying is not for the faint of heart, and this feels like a rescue.
I resent that you stopped for snacks and didn’t give me anything.
I’m excited to work with Drew, get him to a healthy weight, and learn with him. And I’m glad Apache will have a friend to hang out with! Now I have a new buddy and can concentrate on developing a good relationship with him.
But first he goes to the veterinarian and gets checked out!
I knew it had been too long since we had any chicken drama. They certainly know how to get themselves in trouble, even with all these dogs guarding them. They can’t help it; they are chickens.
On Saturday, I noticed that Barbara, the dark black new hen that should lay very dark eggs, was sitting a lot. Now, lots of the chickens were sitting, because it was hot. But she was sitting a lot. On Sunday, I noticed she was dragging one of her legs. Oh no, she had hurt herself in all that rain and slop. And I quickly realized the other chickens were pecking away at her and pulling out her feathers. The only good thing about that is they weren’t pecking Billie Idyl (who is fine now).
Speaking of rain, you can see how high the water got on Monday
So, I took the advice I was given and let the other new hens into the big pen a week earlier than I had planned to. That led to a lot of squawking and chasing. Eventually, everyone has come to terms with the bigger flock, though each sub-flock sticks to itself, like rival street gangs or something. If a bug shows up, though, they all go for it.
Old chickens in front, new ones in back.
After a day of rest, Barbara seemed happier and was eating and drinking, but her leg kept folding under. So, when Kathleen, etc., came back yesterday, we decided to pull a Dr. Pol. That means we have been watching a LOT of veterinarian shows on television. The three of us got together and got a splint on Barbara. My job was holding her. She was good.
Barbara in her first splint
The splint was some flexible wire, with bandages under it to cushion her leg, and wrap around it. The first one had a bent leg, as shown above. She had a hard time with it. I realized that is not how they usually hold their legs. So, we redid it more straight.
That’s better.
This makes it easier for her to lay down and rest, and she can hobble around to get to her food and water. She seems okay for now.
We’re okay, too. Thanks for asking.
My hope is that Barbara heals up and can get around soon. This morning she had obviously moved around a lot, and was standing. Good signs. I know she stands a better chance without all the pecking and trying to flee pecking. And these new ones made it 6 weeks before any accident, so not too bad.
Call me Stumpy
By the way, it’s time for all the swallows to fledge, just like the purple martins at my friend Donna’s house. We have dozens and dozens of them flying around right now, including ones who have nests around our house. This morning, I looked out the window by our stairs, and saw at least ten of them sitting on the roof.
A few of the barn swallows, seen through the screen.
Upon closer inspection, I saw it was two families, four parents and their chicks, who had just fledged. Some of those babies were figuring out how to stand on solid surfaces. It was so cute, and really made me feel better as I set out to face yet another difficult day at work.
This is the fourth book in the series of books by Michel Pastoureau that detail how colors have been perceived and used through European history that I’ve read. It’s convenient that I was reading this along with the Greenlights book, which has all the green print and green pages. I find the color series really interesting and entertaining, so if you like colors, check outGreen: The History of a Color. A lot of what I learned surprised me.
Jane Fonda is smokin’ on the cover, in more ways than one.
You do begin to feel sorry for green, like you did poor yellow in the book I read most recently. It really didn’t get much mention in historical texts, and wasn’t even used in paintings for a long time. One reason was that it has always been difficult to get a green dye that wasn’t made of copper or arsenic or some other poisonous substance. The safe ones were pretty dull. Another was that people just didn’t divide things into colors the way we do now, so a lot of what we would call green was blue or brown to the eyes of people in the past.
Then, poor ole green had a bad reputation of being a color of evil, deceit, and treachery (green knights were never up to any good), unless they were very young men, who were “green” in the untested sense. As time went on, it came to symbolize young love (not necessarily faithful love), peace, and fairy folk.
Apparently, saucy horses wore a lot of green. I love the fact on that horse.
People just didn’t like to wear it, other than a few brief fads where various rulers decided green was their color. Then the sickness came…apparently from covering walls with paint and wallpaper that was green. Some even think that’s what actually got Napoleon.
Green and nature do go hand in hand, though, so there is a lot of green in landscapes and such. A lot of it wasn’t very stable, though, so some landscapes that look brown were once green. And natural objects like the sky, sea, lakes, and rivers were often painted green, not blue. I found that interesting.
Etchings on green paper were popular. I just like this dude’s fuzzy hat.
Since this book dealt primarily with European history, Pastoureau didn’t bring up the color green in other parts of the world. From my studies, I know that Japanese didn’t have a word for green for a long time; aoi meant both blue and green. And the number of colors languages distinguish vary from three to dozens. It just depends on what’s important in a society. For Europeans, Pastoureau notes that texture and other tactile features were more important than color in describing objects (also, apparently in the Middle East when people were writing Biblical passages), which I found pretty interesting.
In addition to all the history stuff, the illustrations in the Green book are just as gorgeous as in the others in the series. These are majorly great coffee-table books (in fact, mine are on the coffee table!) and they are just fun to page through.
Your friends will be green with envy if you display this one, with that fine smoking Jane Fonda on the cover!
At least today was a little different. It didn’t rain until around 5 pm, so I got to get some work done and do some fun things. The most fun was a visit from my son and his partner, who wanted to do some ranch stuff. My son wants to learn to ride horses, so we headed off to the horse pen to rescue Apache from his solitary confinement.
Horse wranglin’
So, I gave the two of them a lesson in what you do before you can ride a horse. I taught them about putting in the halter, the grooming steps, and hoof cleaning. Apache was so good!
Cowpoke from Austin.
I didn’t get pictures of it (I didn’t even take these pictures), but Fiona also got groomed. By the time R. got finished, she looked like a show donkey.
We appreciated the attention.
After that, my son got to walk Apache, stop him, and walk him in a circle. Apache really wanted to eat grass, but he begrudgingly complied. We were too hot to force things (oh, the humidity!).
Back at the house, I got some help with chickens. Barbara has a hurt foot, and she was getting badly pecked, so we decided to let the other pullets in with the big chickens and leave her to recover in the small enclosure. I didn’t get photos. Too busy distracting chickens.
Boring, but clean.
Earlier today, I’d cleaned the front porch and started repotting my Norfolk Island pine. I’m glad my son came, because he helped me with the potting soil. I hope the plant perks up.
I had to do something while it wasn’t raining! So I sweated, shined, and perked up the porch.
But, all good weather must come to an end. By the time we got back in the house, rain was back. We sat and talked while some really strong rain fell. Really strong.
But at least rain brings the bonus of golden rain lilies.
We managed to get out and have a nice Mexican dinner and some great conversation about music and comedy, then our guests went home, as did we. The rainwater had been busy while we were gone.
Oh no! The backup culvert is activated!
It was way more flooded than yesterday. The secondary drainage culvert hasn’t come into operation but one other time since Lee added it (prevents the driveway from overflow). The water was really rushing and high.
High water time
The water was even flowing across the road. Eek.
At least you can drive through it.
Of course we had to let the dogs play. Alfred, in particular, had a blast, pawing and biting at the rapids.
On his way to the next splash area.
Funny though, in the 20 minutes Lee and I walked around looking, the pond/tank crested and all these culverts did their job. By the time we left, it was already down a foot or so. Check out the pictures.
On the right, you can see the high water line.
We will be fine, but we do wish we could send some rain to our friends and family in California.
Guess what? There’s still rain in the forecast for today. That means it will have rained every day so far in July. So, we’ve had no friends over, no family celebration…not much of anything. But that’s okay, I’ve had time to read and clean. Yesterday, it really rained a lot. We knew it was at least two inches, because the tanks filled up.
The overflow was overflowing!
If it just rains a little, the water rises just a bit in the front tank. It doesn’t usually overflow unless there is runoff from its main sources:
The small pond by the house (we built a ditch to funnel the water thee)
The big tank over at the Wild Hermits front pasture (that comes through the arroyo)
The cotton field across the road (there is a culvert, and it also just comes over the road)
Runoff from the tank and other areas by Sara’s house (they are higher than us), which goes down their driveway at quite a clip
One reason we built the tank where we did is we knew it would have a lot of water flowing in, so it would not dry up too often. So far, it hadn’t totally dried up yet.
Water is swiftly flowing down the driveway, taking lots of road base with it. Photo by Lee.
All of THAT water quickly fills up our little tank, which then sends water down our stream to Walker’s Creek. This is all pretty spectacular right after a hard rain. When we went to feed the horses (by car, because it was flooding), water was over the road and much of the driveway to the horse pens. It was flowing strongly. By the time we went back, it had already settled down to a brisk flow.
After the rain. Photo by Lee.
Now, in the fall and spring, this is going to happen a few times. That’s how it rains here, with dry spells followed by floods. However, it rarely rains much at all in July. In fact, today is July 5, with rain in the forecast, and it is already the wettest July we’ve had since Lee started tracking it right after the Big Drought in 2011-2012.
All the years but 2021 are for the whole month. And no, I don’t know why Lee tracks data with the current year on the left, but I’m just grateful for the data.
One of the things people are noticing about this year is that everything seems to be skewed a month late, thanks for the Winter Storm Uri event in February. Maybe we are getting June’s usual rain pattern, just a bit late. Or Global Warming. I don’t know; I’m not a meteorologist.
Here’s our rain pattern since we’ve been here. You can sure see when we have floods! From Lee’s spreadsheet.
This year started out like it was going to be one of our dryer years, but who knows at this point? All I know is that the later the tanks fill up, the more likely they are to not go dry until the rains start up again in the fall. (Don’t let August fool you; most years it barely rains in July OR August.)
Hey, fellow cattle, isn’t this the most dangerous area to be standing, right where the culvert spurts out water and there’s scary clay? Yes! Let’s all stand here. (Last week, there was just a small puddle by the culvert.)
Texas weather is quite variable, so we’ve enjoyed tracking the patterns here in the Post Oak Savannah region. My guess is that the patterns where you live are also interesting, so I encourage you to get a good rain gauge, like the one we use, the Stratus Precision Rain Gauge, and start tracking. You can learn a lot about trends, as well as exceptions! I’m grateful to Lee for his diligence in his own Citizen Science project.
Built to the National Weather Service specifications, the Stratus is exceptionally accurate. It is the rain gauge of choice for official weather observers in the United States.
Now to go check on chickens and move Apache to the dry pen. It’s rather sloppy over there, so all of us slip and slide. I will be very glad when we can get back to work on the pens so we can move him, though I’ll wager our pens will also get muddy and slick, because they are on the clay soil, too. On the other hand, someone said that a couple inches of good rain would really pack down the new driveway. I’d say it’s pretty packed now.
It’s rained nearly all day again today. The younger folks saw it was going to rain yesterday and took off for the beach, leaving us hermits to fend for ourselves. Lee was handed a bunch of paperwork before Kathleen left, so he had a project. All my original plans for the weekend were outdoor ones, so I had to regroup. Knit? No, my project is too fuzzy and hot. I decided to read. so, here’s another book report.
A few days ago, one of my old LLL friends shared Brood, by Jackie Polzin, and said the description reminded her of me. I looked at it, saw it was about a woman and her small flock of chickens, and ordered it.
Brood is Polzin’s first novel. Her style is spare and graceful. She tells us just enough to feel moved by her experiences but not so much that you can’t picture yourself in her shoes.
As someone who randomly got chickens and found their habits fascinating and their propensity to die at the drop of a hat pretty confusing, I emphasized a lot with the experiences of the unnamed protagonist of Brood. And her life, while not like mine, mirrored many of my experiences in a broad way. She seems to just float through life, following others, while getting her joy from her ability to control the quality of her avocation (for her, it was cleaning and for me it was knitting).
Anyway, this book packs a subtle but sizable wallop. I got out of it that paying attention to the now is how to lead an authentic and satisfying life. I find that Polzin does a very credible job of demonstrating the centeredness that can come from feeling okay with the transience of everything you care about.
You know, just writing about this little gem of a story made me realize that Brood has helped me see the good in some of my quirks and the validity of some of my awkwardly existentialist/Buddhist leanings.
I feel like reading this every few months, even though I know the plot. The plot is the least important part of Brood for me. I had no idea this novel about a lady in Minnesota and her four chickens would move me. It did!
The Hermits' Rest 