I have been going up and down 5 flights of stairs a couple times per week for 1 1/2 months now, and I've only lost 1 lb.
Yesterday I got recertified in ACLS. That's Advanced Cardiac Life Support. That is what you have to know to run a code in a hospital, and all of us lucky nurses who get to be on the code team have to be certified. It is required of those who work on the more critical cardiac floors. It used to be you went around to stations with a real live person and simulated running a code. Now that we have computers - wonderful things that they are - the people who came up with ACLS have developed a computer simulation instead. You have to click on the buttons of what to do in the correct sequence in order to pass each scenario. There are about 10 scenarios. Joe comes into the ER with dizziness for a week, and he's passed out twice. You put him on the monitor, see that he has bradycardia, take his vitals, put oxygen on, call for help, and then pull down the list of medications you might give him. If you give him the wrong one, the computer kills him. It took me 7 hours.
Today I hung out with the baby and read a book. I didn't feel like doing anything else after yesterday. I nursed the baby for hours and hours. I read Zane Grey's book, "The Last Trail." It is the third of the trilogy about the settlement of Fort Henry and Wheeling, WV. I am really into Ohio River history in this area right now. After I finished the book, I started another, called, "That Dark and Bloody River," by Eckert. Around 4 in the afternoon, I needed to take a walk.
My husband went with me. He helped me put the baby on my back. The farm is in such a state of disrepair with me working full time that I'm not sure what I'm doing here sometimes. But I keep plugging away. He showed me where he dragged my alpha doe a few weeks ago when we found her dead behind the barn. She wasn't there. The coyotes probably drug her off. Someone on a geneology site I belong to posted about cougars being back in the area, and I thought it would be a novel idea if it were really a cougar, but I feel more comfortable with the idea of a coyote.
Then I came in and cleaned the meat off a turkey that has been sitting cooked in the fridge for a week that the kids have been picking the meat off of here and there when they're hungry. I made some broth, and cooked some stewish meat for supper. Then I read some more. It was a lazy thing to do.
I have been working full time since October. I feel as though my body is beginning to shut down at times - pumping, washing pump parts, nursing the baby, running to work, taking care of people with very sick hearts. The snow is melting, and it is almost spring. I wanted to take the loppers with me, but there was a baby on my back. I picked up some old high tensile wire that is all over the pasture and started winding it up. Some past boyfriend of mine had it put up so I could keep some of his horses. Even though I told the guys where to put the fence, they disregarded what I said, and the places that the posts are render their position unuseable. Bruce didn't want to pick up fence tonight. I could have stayed out there and picked it all up, even with a baby on my back. Maybe I should have. The baby didn't mind. She was talking to the goats.
I start another 6 day stretch in the morning - or rather the afternoon. The nurse manager said I could cut down to part time again on the next schedule or the one after. Financially it will hurt. But there is a trade off here. There is a whole lot more to it, but I'm not going into it here. I'm just so glad it is almost spring.
We traded my alpha doe's twin orphans with my brother and his wife for 4 colorful Indian Runner ducks. Yesterday, they and the white pekins finally found a spring in the pasture. Heretofore, they have lived in my garden. I've wondered if was any use starting seeds this year. They really like the pasture, and I'm hoping they spend more and more time there. We have 7 ducks total, and can they ever make a racket!
Baby is asleep on my lap. Is there anything more I really need in life?
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
You Can't Buy a Cucumber Attack for $2,000
It's true.
I didn't say it. But I thought it. My children are always teasing me when things like this come out of my mouth. Where do they come from?
Well, as I was walking in the door tonight, after a long night's work on a cardiac unit, I was thinking about the trees. The moon shone through the tall hemlock in the back yard that my great grandfather planted there for my great grandmother. The walnut trees have such an allure in the winter moonlight, leaving shadows in the snow. Those same black walnut trees are worth about $2000 apiece, and I was thinking, you can't buy a new walnut tree like that for $2000. Once it is gone, it is gone. If we sell them for timber, we will have money, but no walnut trees, ever again. You can grow more, but I would be 80, or dead before they'd be like that again. Is it worth $2000? I kind of like the trees the way they are. I'd miss them. I'd miss them almost as much as I'd miss a person if they died, and life is supposed to be priceless. Are the walnut trees that priceless?
Anyways, the newspaper on the top of a stack of newspapers on the back porch had a headline on it that caught my eye as I walked in the door. It was about Iraq. It said another attack had happened. Who knows what day or year that newspaper was. It could have been any in the last 3 or 4.
And...on the kitchen table was a new package of seeds that had come in the mail. It was cucumber seeds I had ordered. And the words just went through my head - just like that:
"You can't buy a cucumber attack for $2000."
What does it mean when your mind jumbles a small chain of events like that. About 8 or 9 years ago, I would have joked that I was getting Alzheimers, but it is such an old joke that most seasoned nurses cringe when someone says it. (My ex-husband likes that sort of cringe). Or it would worry me, because once on the series, "Murder She Wrote," Angela Lansbury solves a mystery where a woman leaves out letters in her words that she writes, because the woman has a brain tumor. (My ex-husband used to tease me maliciously when I said something stupid, that it was my brain tumor talking). I leave out letters in words I write all the time - especially the first letter. Should I get a CT scan of the brain?
You know, we have the weirdest dreams. But after reading Freud's biography by Irving Stone, and writing down and thinking through some of my own dreams, I think our brains put things like this together for reasons. It is a puzzle, and if we figure it out, it gives us insight into our subconscious thinking.
Maybe it means that I can't really make money off of this farm. Or maybe it means that ...planting cucumbers is not going to help me save $2000 on my grocery bills. I'll have to think about it a little longer. Maybe I'll ponder it as I drink my Mother's Milk tea, and cuddle my 7 month old baby, and drift blissfully off to sleep, feeling the ache in my legs from walking up 6 flights of stairs at work instead of taking the elevators to the 7th floor, in effort to get back into shape and lose weight. The bed feels so nice when your muscles are sore. Your husband and baby feel so warm when it is snowy and cold outside, and the moon makes shadows under the giant black walnut trees.
I didn't say it. But I thought it. My children are always teasing me when things like this come out of my mouth. Where do they come from?
Well, as I was walking in the door tonight, after a long night's work on a cardiac unit, I was thinking about the trees. The moon shone through the tall hemlock in the back yard that my great grandfather planted there for my great grandmother. The walnut trees have such an allure in the winter moonlight, leaving shadows in the snow. Those same black walnut trees are worth about $2000 apiece, and I was thinking, you can't buy a new walnut tree like that for $2000. Once it is gone, it is gone. If we sell them for timber, we will have money, but no walnut trees, ever again. You can grow more, but I would be 80, or dead before they'd be like that again. Is it worth $2000? I kind of like the trees the way they are. I'd miss them. I'd miss them almost as much as I'd miss a person if they died, and life is supposed to be priceless. Are the walnut trees that priceless?
Anyways, the newspaper on the top of a stack of newspapers on the back porch had a headline on it that caught my eye as I walked in the door. It was about Iraq. It said another attack had happened. Who knows what day or year that newspaper was. It could have been any in the last 3 or 4.
And...on the kitchen table was a new package of seeds that had come in the mail. It was cucumber seeds I had ordered. And the words just went through my head - just like that:
"You can't buy a cucumber attack for $2000."
What does it mean when your mind jumbles a small chain of events like that. About 8 or 9 years ago, I would have joked that I was getting Alzheimers, but it is such an old joke that most seasoned nurses cringe when someone says it. (My ex-husband likes that sort of cringe). Or it would worry me, because once on the series, "Murder She Wrote," Angela Lansbury solves a mystery where a woman leaves out letters in her words that she writes, because the woman has a brain tumor. (My ex-husband used to tease me maliciously when I said something stupid, that it was my brain tumor talking). I leave out letters in words I write all the time - especially the first letter. Should I get a CT scan of the brain?
You know, we have the weirdest dreams. But after reading Freud's biography by Irving Stone, and writing down and thinking through some of my own dreams, I think our brains put things like this together for reasons. It is a puzzle, and if we figure it out, it gives us insight into our subconscious thinking.
Maybe it means that I can't really make money off of this farm. Or maybe it means that ...planting cucumbers is not going to help me save $2000 on my grocery bills. I'll have to think about it a little longer. Maybe I'll ponder it as I drink my Mother's Milk tea, and cuddle my 7 month old baby, and drift blissfully off to sleep, feeling the ache in my legs from walking up 6 flights of stairs at work instead of taking the elevators to the 7th floor, in effort to get back into shape and lose weight. The bed feels so nice when your muscles are sore. Your husband and baby feel so warm when it is snowy and cold outside, and the moon makes shadows under the giant black walnut trees.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Just an update...Pete finally killed too many chickens, and he got shot. I won't go into details. In Sept. when I said the billy goats were stinky, the females were already bred, because most of them had kids this week. That means they were bred in July. We sold 4 boy goats at the sale barn - 2 wethers and 2 bucks. The bucks brought $20 more per goat than the wethers. Since 2 weeks ago, we have 10 baby goats. There are two more pregnant goats. I hope the sheep are pregnant.
The baby is 6 months old now. She's still beautiful. I'm still exclusively breastfeeding her, and pumping at work. She gets constipated sometimes, and I worry wether or not she's getting enough, but she still has never had formula. I've thought about switching, but my husband doesn't want me to. She's never gotten sick yet, even though I've had a very bad cold and given it to the rest of the family and a lot of people at work. She is almost sitting up on her own, and has become very good at grabbing things. Today my 14 y/o taught her how to play with a slinky.
My 17 y/o son has been accepted into 2 of the 3 colleges he applied to. The 3rd one is a state college, so we're not worried. The most expensive college offered him a $12,000/year presidential scholarship up front, which is very, very nice. We only have $19,000 more to figure out on that one. It is in NC, and is the one he's chosen to go to.
Pumping has become so familiar that I am certain now that most of the staff in the hospital have heard through the grapevine what is in my black bag. I wonder if I am an enigma sometimes. But people really do seem to like me, and at my yearly eval, my old unit manager told me that the hospital has invested a lot into training me, and that I am thus a very valueable employee. I hadn't thought of it that way. Since I had a baby, a lot of young nurses have gotten pregnant. They are going to have a lot of nurses off at the same time this spring and summer.
I miss my 19 y/o. I wish he would move back to Ohio. But I suppose he's an adult. It will be a long time before I'm an empty - nester, but I don't like the feeling of it.
I've been asked to possibly be interviewed for someone's article in a local magazine. It is for mothers who were seperated from their babies at birth, but breastfed anyway. I feel honored in a way, but being asked caused me to relive that all again today. It got me thinking about what could be said that would be helpful to others going through the same thing; or who might go through it.
There was an article on one of the forums I belong to about truck gardening. One man makes as much as I do per year, just growing and selling lettuce on a few acres. I want to stay home and farm full time and make what I make now. I bet I can figure out how. My daughter tells me we are out of food, and I know we have food here. I have failed my children, so I am determined to teach our baby (and myself) how to survive. It will especially be important in the dark time to come.
The baby is 6 months old now. She's still beautiful. I'm still exclusively breastfeeding her, and pumping at work. She gets constipated sometimes, and I worry wether or not she's getting enough, but she still has never had formula. I've thought about switching, but my husband doesn't want me to. She's never gotten sick yet, even though I've had a very bad cold and given it to the rest of the family and a lot of people at work. She is almost sitting up on her own, and has become very good at grabbing things. Today my 14 y/o taught her how to play with a slinky.
My 17 y/o son has been accepted into 2 of the 3 colleges he applied to. The 3rd one is a state college, so we're not worried. The most expensive college offered him a $12,000/year presidential scholarship up front, which is very, very nice. We only have $19,000 more to figure out on that one. It is in NC, and is the one he's chosen to go to.
Pumping has become so familiar that I am certain now that most of the staff in the hospital have heard through the grapevine what is in my black bag. I wonder if I am an enigma sometimes. But people really do seem to like me, and at my yearly eval, my old unit manager told me that the hospital has invested a lot into training me, and that I am thus a very valueable employee. I hadn't thought of it that way. Since I had a baby, a lot of young nurses have gotten pregnant. They are going to have a lot of nurses off at the same time this spring and summer.
I miss my 19 y/o. I wish he would move back to Ohio. But I suppose he's an adult. It will be a long time before I'm an empty - nester, but I don't like the feeling of it.
I've been asked to possibly be interviewed for someone's article in a local magazine. It is for mothers who were seperated from their babies at birth, but breastfed anyway. I feel honored in a way, but being asked caused me to relive that all again today. It got me thinking about what could be said that would be helpful to others going through the same thing; or who might go through it.
There was an article on one of the forums I belong to about truck gardening. One man makes as much as I do per year, just growing and selling lettuce on a few acres. I want to stay home and farm full time and make what I make now. I bet I can figure out how. My daughter tells me we are out of food, and I know we have food here. I have failed my children, so I am determined to teach our baby (and myself) how to survive. It will especially be important in the dark time to come.
Did you ever get most of the way home from work on a 45 minute commute, and realize you never turned on the radio?
Did you ever read a book that reminded you of another book? Like one that began with chapters where the titles begin, "In Which..." and you know that Milne wrote the Pooh books long before this one was written. I'm talking about "My Side of the Mountain," and "The Other Side of the Mountain."
Did you ever develop the superstition that when you offered to do something nice, that you always paid for offering?
The clouds formed over the half-moon tonight in a manner that gave me a premonition. I don't get such premonitions often, and nobody believes me when I do, so I'm writing this one down in my blog. Unrelated to the premonition, but worth mentioning is that the moon happens to have been sitting sideways tonight, like a bowl or a cup. Anyways, my prediction is that the sky is going to turn black for days on end, and it will make the earth cold and keep the greens from growing and the solar powered cells from being powered. I don't know what will cause it to happen - maybe volcano's like when Mount St. Helen erupted. I'd really like to have a wood stove.
Did you ever read a book that reminded you of another book? Like one that began with chapters where the titles begin, "In Which..." and you know that Milne wrote the Pooh books long before this one was written. I'm talking about "My Side of the Mountain," and "The Other Side of the Mountain."
Did you ever develop the superstition that when you offered to do something nice, that you always paid for offering?
The clouds formed over the half-moon tonight in a manner that gave me a premonition. I don't get such premonitions often, and nobody believes me when I do, so I'm writing this one down in my blog. Unrelated to the premonition, but worth mentioning is that the moon happens to have been sitting sideways tonight, like a bowl or a cup. Anyways, my prediction is that the sky is going to turn black for days on end, and it will make the earth cold and keep the greens from growing and the solar powered cells from being powered. I don't know what will cause it to happen - maybe volcano's like when Mount St. Helen erupted. I'd really like to have a wood stove.
Friday, November 24, 2006
Of Pranks and Holidays
It was the last week of my training on the cardiac special care unit, and I couldn't find my notebook. I had bought it new and compiled all my training materials in it - the cheat sheet on arrhythmias, the laminated guide on preps for heart caths and stress tests, the cardiac drug classes, how many seconds were in mm square on a cardiac strip. My "brain" was gone.
I looked everywhere. I looked on all the counters, in the locker room, in the lounge, in all the filing cabinets. Then I asked every nurse on the floor if they'd seen it..."no," "no," "no." I felt a suspicious air. Surely nobody stole it. Would they hide it from me? I went home last Friday discouraged because Monday I would be on my own, and without my "brain." What if I got a heart cath patient - would I remember everything I had to do to get them ready?
On Monday morning at 6:30 am, I opened my locker to take my white shoes out and put my lunch bag in, and there was my notebook! It had a note on the front, "I found it!" and it was signed by one of my preceptors. Later, she told me that another nurse had hidden it behind the big filing cabinet in the Case management office. She'd thought and thought, and then remembered that a certain nurse had hidden another nurse's notebook there once and had bragged about it. So she looked, and there it was! She assured me that it wasn't malicious; that this same nurse had hidden something of someone else's in a patient's room and left it there for a long time. She wouldn't tell me who had hidden my notebook or who the other victims were.
On Thanksgiving, I was working with the only other nurse I know to keep a notebook. In fact she had inspired me to start mine. I was trying to figure out an arrhythmia. I mentioned that my brain was in my locker. She asked why I didn't have it with me, and I said, "Because I'm afraid I'll forget to put it away, and it might get hidden again." WELL, the questions began, and that started her on a firey war path. I then worried that I had broken trust with my preceptor and wondered what I had started.
But wait a minute...what *I* had started?! No. This person who likes hiding important belongings of other peoples' started it.
This week for 2 days I had a patient who had chest pain continually as an "8" on a 1-10 scale, with "10" being worst. He drank half the soda in the refrigerator. We were out of regular Ginger Ale and Caffeine Free Coke today because of him. Yesterday right after shift change, the aide coming on duty said she'd run into him outside. He wanted a cigarette, so she gave him one of hers, and told him to come back up; that he was not supposed to be outside while he was on a cardiac monitor. He showed up. His pain was still an "8." He wanted morphine, but I told him he had to do the 3 nitro's first. So we did that, and in between nitroglycerine tabets and blood pressures, we talked about his life. He kept asking me personal questions, and I kept redirecting the conversation. Afterwards, he wanted to go out and get some fresh air. His pain went to a "7."He wanted the morphine before he went, and I told him that after 3 nitro's and morphine, he'd need to stay in bed for at least a couple of hours. He asked me if he could have the morphine when he got back then. And could he have another soda?
The day after Thanksgiving, he had a stress test. It was negative, and he went home. I could write a whole lot more about other patients, but this week, he and my notebook took the cake. Or the pie.
I looked everywhere. I looked on all the counters, in the locker room, in the lounge, in all the filing cabinets. Then I asked every nurse on the floor if they'd seen it..."no," "no," "no." I felt a suspicious air. Surely nobody stole it. Would they hide it from me? I went home last Friday discouraged because Monday I would be on my own, and without my "brain." What if I got a heart cath patient - would I remember everything I had to do to get them ready?
On Monday morning at 6:30 am, I opened my locker to take my white shoes out and put my lunch bag in, and there was my notebook! It had a note on the front, "I found it!" and it was signed by one of my preceptors. Later, she told me that another nurse had hidden it behind the big filing cabinet in the Case management office. She'd thought and thought, and then remembered that a certain nurse had hidden another nurse's notebook there once and had bragged about it. So she looked, and there it was! She assured me that it wasn't malicious; that this same nurse had hidden something of someone else's in a patient's room and left it there for a long time. She wouldn't tell me who had hidden my notebook or who the other victims were.
On Thanksgiving, I was working with the only other nurse I know to keep a notebook. In fact she had inspired me to start mine. I was trying to figure out an arrhythmia. I mentioned that my brain was in my locker. She asked why I didn't have it with me, and I said, "Because I'm afraid I'll forget to put it away, and it might get hidden again." WELL, the questions began, and that started her on a firey war path. I then worried that I had broken trust with my preceptor and wondered what I had started.
But wait a minute...what *I* had started?! No. This person who likes hiding important belongings of other peoples' started it.
This week for 2 days I had a patient who had chest pain continually as an "8" on a 1-10 scale, with "10" being worst. He drank half the soda in the refrigerator. We were out of regular Ginger Ale and Caffeine Free Coke today because of him. Yesterday right after shift change, the aide coming on duty said she'd run into him outside. He wanted a cigarette, so she gave him one of hers, and told him to come back up; that he was not supposed to be outside while he was on a cardiac monitor. He showed up. His pain was still an "8." He wanted morphine, but I told him he had to do the 3 nitro's first. So we did that, and in between nitroglycerine tabets and blood pressures, we talked about his life. He kept asking me personal questions, and I kept redirecting the conversation. Afterwards, he wanted to go out and get some fresh air. His pain went to a "7."He wanted the morphine before he went, and I told him that after 3 nitro's and morphine, he'd need to stay in bed for at least a couple of hours. He asked me if he could have the morphine when he got back then. And could he have another soda?
The day after Thanksgiving, he had a stress test. It was negative, and he went home. I could write a whole lot more about other patients, but this week, he and my notebook took the cake. Or the pie.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
And about "F" for France and Franklin
Oh, and one more thing...these REpubicans seem to have forgotton their history!
Don't Vote dot Org
I just took the "Don't Vote" quiz. I intentionally answered the questions wrong and as humorously as I could, and the website gave me an "F," and suggested move to France.
There are two things that bother me about this website. #1 is that a patient I had on the cardiac unit yesterday told me that it was operated by Republicans, and that he knew this because he was a Republican. #2 is that there were no local pictures of politicians on the site, and I consider local politicians by far more important than who is Prime Minister of Great Britian or who Osama bin Laden is.
I would like to know several answers from my local politicians, and I happen to know from past experience that I will not get an answer on any of the following questions:
Where do you stand on gambling in Ohio?
How do you feel about the raw milk bill in Ohio?
Where do you stand on the NAIS and what are you going to do about it?
How do you feel about midwifery in Ohio?
What is your plan regarding the historical and current public records in Belmont County?
What are your plans for the future of Belmont County?
What is Belmont County going to do about consistancy of record keeping in the water departments of its municipalities?
What is your stand on the condemning of properties for the use of imminent domain by private entities?
Now if every politician would answer these questions, I might know how to vote. I don't care about who the hell Michael Moore, wat's his name Rushdie, or Kofi Annan look like. Answer my g-d-'d questions!
There are two things that bother me about this website. #1 is that a patient I had on the cardiac unit yesterday told me that it was operated by Republicans, and that he knew this because he was a Republican. #2 is that there were no local pictures of politicians on the site, and I consider local politicians by far more important than who is Prime Minister of Great Britian or who Osama bin Laden is.
I would like to know several answers from my local politicians, and I happen to know from past experience that I will not get an answer on any of the following questions:
Where do you stand on gambling in Ohio?
How do you feel about the raw milk bill in Ohio?
Where do you stand on the NAIS and what are you going to do about it?
How do you feel about midwifery in Ohio?
What is your plan regarding the historical and current public records in Belmont County?
What are your plans for the future of Belmont County?
What is Belmont County going to do about consistancy of record keeping in the water departments of its municipalities?
What is your stand on the condemning of properties for the use of imminent domain by private entities?
Now if every politician would answer these questions, I might know how to vote. I don't care about who the hell Michael Moore, wat's his name Rushdie, or Kofi Annan look like. Answer my g-d-'d questions!
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Breastfeeding Working Moms
Today I spent a LOT of time surfing. See, I belong to a yahoo group called bfworkingmoms. bf stands for breastfeeding. Someone posted on the group about a pump called "Whisper Wear," that you can use while driving! I thought, COOL. So I googled it, and again, I ended up somehow on the Lactivist blog. I love this blog. I also love Hathor the Cow Goddess. Makes me feel like my blog is BORING. Lactivist has all these neat links to other blogs, and ads from places she likes. I don't know how to do that, and I can't seem to figure it out. Also, I'm not quite the activist, sort of like the difference between Lucretia Mott, the Quaker minister pre-Civil War, and her rebel-rousing activist contemporaries, like Abby Kelly, who unintentionally incited the violent sentiments that led to the war.
And how do I include my favorite yahoo groups on the side?
I have been back to work as a nurse on an orthopedic/neurological unit since mid-July. Our baby girl has never tasted formula, and she just turned 3 months old. That is thanks to an Ameda Purely Yours breast pump. The hospital has a nice lactation room for employees, but our surgical floor is so busy that I often only get one chance in 8 hours to pump. I have a 45 minute drive to and from work. You aren't supposed to go over 4 hours without pumping. So if it's been 5 hours by the time I get off work, I pump rather than add 45 more minutes. Pumping in the car to and from work would be IDEAL.
Breast milk banks also were of interest due to a post about a new bank, Prolacta. Not that I'd ever pump enough to donate. At the end of the day, I practically have plans to open my own retail store. There aren't many places around other than Toys-R-Us who sell breastfeeding supplies. I'm just trying to figure some way to tie in spinning supplies along with it. I've also been keeping up with the raw milk debate in Ohio, and am thinking if I go back to school, of studying microbiology and trying to come up with ways to lobby for safe raw milk. Our U.S. culture is becoming so, so paranoid about disease control, to a point of being rediculous. They are going to regulate us out of being able to feed ourselves and our children for free.
Last night my husband and I strolled around the county fair with the baby in our Kangaroo Korner sling. That sling was expensive, but was one of the best investments I have made. We bought a $4 apple cobbler a la mode to share, and sat at a picnic table between the apple cobbler booth and the very familiar Ruritan building. I was putting dabs of melting ice cream on baby's lip for her to taste, and she was licking and smiling at this new game - which she liked very much. An old sheep farmer who gives shearing demonstrations, and his wife sat down near us and were enjoying the baby's coos and smiles with her first experience with ice cream. My 14 y/o daughter was off with a friend riding rides.
The animal barns are getting emptier. Most of the goats were meat goats - hardly any dairy ones. There were few 4-H sewing projects, and the ones that were displayed were beginning projects. Times change, but I fear the skills I learned are being lost to future generations. No, this babe will be home schooled. I think I can teach her much more that way. And this time I will breast feed as long as possible.
And how do I include my favorite yahoo groups on the side?
I have been back to work as a nurse on an orthopedic/neurological unit since mid-July. Our baby girl has never tasted formula, and she just turned 3 months old. That is thanks to an Ameda Purely Yours breast pump. The hospital has a nice lactation room for employees, but our surgical floor is so busy that I often only get one chance in 8 hours to pump. I have a 45 minute drive to and from work. You aren't supposed to go over 4 hours without pumping. So if it's been 5 hours by the time I get off work, I pump rather than add 45 more minutes. Pumping in the car to and from work would be IDEAL.
Breast milk banks also were of interest due to a post about a new bank, Prolacta. Not that I'd ever pump enough to donate. At the end of the day, I practically have plans to open my own retail store. There aren't many places around other than Toys-R-Us who sell breastfeeding supplies. I'm just trying to figure some way to tie in spinning supplies along with it. I've also been keeping up with the raw milk debate in Ohio, and am thinking if I go back to school, of studying microbiology and trying to come up with ways to lobby for safe raw milk. Our U.S. culture is becoming so, so paranoid about disease control, to a point of being rediculous. They are going to regulate us out of being able to feed ourselves and our children for free.
Last night my husband and I strolled around the county fair with the baby in our Kangaroo Korner sling. That sling was expensive, but was one of the best investments I have made. We bought a $4 apple cobbler a la mode to share, and sat at a picnic table between the apple cobbler booth and the very familiar Ruritan building. I was putting dabs of melting ice cream on baby's lip for her to taste, and she was licking and smiling at this new game - which she liked very much. An old sheep farmer who gives shearing demonstrations, and his wife sat down near us and were enjoying the baby's coos and smiles with her first experience with ice cream. My 14 y/o daughter was off with a friend riding rides.
The animal barns are getting emptier. Most of the goats were meat goats - hardly any dairy ones. There were few 4-H sewing projects, and the ones that were displayed were beginning projects. Times change, but I fear the skills I learned are being lost to future generations. No, this babe will be home schooled. I think I can teach her much more that way. And this time I will breast feed as long as possible.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Farming and Calories
How many calories does it take to shear a sheep?
I haven't shorn any sheep lately. My mother invited me to be an excercise partner on the SELF Magazine website. It is a joke. I did inspire me to use the eliptical for 30 minutes tonight, but do they really think I'm going to log on to their website and record my entire day's diet every day? I don't think so!
I'd be better off keeping a food diary and looking up calories myself on paper.
Pete, the dog, killed 2 more chickens last night. I had a taker for him a few months ago, but last minute, my husband decided HE wanted to keep the dog.
I'm thinking of starting another blog keeping track of my health. Just for the fun of it over time. I've had this blog a long time, and nobody reads it. It's boring. IF I'm going to take the time to publish a blog it should be useful to at least me for something other than a rant site.
Today was the high school football game. It is my daughter's second year in marching band. I worked in the concession stand for the band boosters, so I still have not seen her play in a half-time show yet. My husband babysat. Tonight I sat for a long, long time, holding my baby daughter while I watched "The Fellowship of the Ring" one more time with my 14 y/o daughter. The baby is so beautiful.
Something spiritual is closing in on me; expecting something out of me. It feels urgent. I've been getting feelings lately like I had before 9/11 - like something really horrible is either happening or is about to happen. I know the news says an attack was diverted, but I feel something imminent like then. When I feel this way, I want to distract myself. Excercising is good. I will keep my own diary without the aid of a website that doesn't include calories of Hershey's Kisses.
I haven't shorn any sheep lately. My mother invited me to be an excercise partner on the SELF Magazine website. It is a joke. I did inspire me to use the eliptical for 30 minutes tonight, but do they really think I'm going to log on to their website and record my entire day's diet every day? I don't think so!
I'd be better off keeping a food diary and looking up calories myself on paper.
Pete, the dog, killed 2 more chickens last night. I had a taker for him a few months ago, but last minute, my husband decided HE wanted to keep the dog.
I'm thinking of starting another blog keeping track of my health. Just for the fun of it over time. I've had this blog a long time, and nobody reads it. It's boring. IF I'm going to take the time to publish a blog it should be useful to at least me for something other than a rant site.
Today was the high school football game. It is my daughter's second year in marching band. I worked in the concession stand for the band boosters, so I still have not seen her play in a half-time show yet. My husband babysat. Tonight I sat for a long, long time, holding my baby daughter while I watched "The Fellowship of the Ring" one more time with my 14 y/o daughter. The baby is so beautiful.
Something spiritual is closing in on me; expecting something out of me. It feels urgent. I've been getting feelings lately like I had before 9/11 - like something really horrible is either happening or is about to happen. I know the news says an attack was diverted, but I feel something imminent like then. When I feel this way, I want to distract myself. Excercising is good. I will keep my own diary without the aid of a website that doesn't include calories of Hershey's Kisses.
Friday, September 01, 2006
Do You Remember?
A wonder, that last post. I had a baby the next morning. It was an ordeal I'll not go into right now, but I wish I'd had her at home after all was said and done.
What a life it's become...working as a nurse, pumping breast milk for my baby during breaks; a 19 year old in Phoenix going to college, a 16 year old starting his senior year in high school, but going to college in post secondary option and a 14 year old daughter in marching band for a high school whose football team usually goes well into the play-offs. Tomorrow is a game. The leaves are ever so slightly beginning to turn.
The farm is going to pot. Our finances are shot. Chickens pooping on the porch, no chickenhouse yet, matted dogs, and do I care? Yes, I care, but I'm not going to lose sleep over it. Not today. I keep getting flea bites, but we don't have animals in the house. On my belly, or my back, or groin. Why are there fleas in my clothes? Where are they coming from?
I picked up a paper at a booth at the Ohio State Fair on selling black walnuts. We usually have loads of them. I got home and looked up into the trees, and this year there are hardly any! What goes with the walnuts? No matter what enterprise I take, something happens where it doesn't work for me, somehow. Then, I found a tree that had a lot of walnuts on it. Maybe the trees go through cycles.
Tropical storm Earnesto is coming through the Ohio Valley, making it chilly. So the billy goats have begun to stink and breed. They do that when the temperature first drops in August. We will have to take some to the sale barn. We have too many goats now. We may also take some to the packer.
This sweet little baby girl sitting on my lap, warm and heavy and asleep - she is every bit worth a year of sliding behind all I'd "like" to do. She says, "Eah." That means, "I'm hungry." She has the prettiest, sweetest smile. So worth things going to pot for a little while.
I don't remember the 5th of September. I wasn't born yet. My birthday is in October.
What a life it's become...working as a nurse, pumping breast milk for my baby during breaks; a 19 year old in Phoenix going to college, a 16 year old starting his senior year in high school, but going to college in post secondary option and a 14 year old daughter in marching band for a high school whose football team usually goes well into the play-offs. Tomorrow is a game. The leaves are ever so slightly beginning to turn.
The farm is going to pot. Our finances are shot. Chickens pooping on the porch, no chickenhouse yet, matted dogs, and do I care? Yes, I care, but I'm not going to lose sleep over it. Not today. I keep getting flea bites, but we don't have animals in the house. On my belly, or my back, or groin. Why are there fleas in my clothes? Where are they coming from?
I picked up a paper at a booth at the Ohio State Fair on selling black walnuts. We usually have loads of them. I got home and looked up into the trees, and this year there are hardly any! What goes with the walnuts? No matter what enterprise I take, something happens where it doesn't work for me, somehow. Then, I found a tree that had a lot of walnuts on it. Maybe the trees go through cycles.
Tropical storm Earnesto is coming through the Ohio Valley, making it chilly. So the billy goats have begun to stink and breed. They do that when the temperature first drops in August. We will have to take some to the sale barn. We have too many goats now. We may also take some to the packer.
This sweet little baby girl sitting on my lap, warm and heavy and asleep - she is every bit worth a year of sliding behind all I'd "like" to do. She says, "Eah." That means, "I'm hungry." She has the prettiest, sweetest smile. So worth things going to pot for a little while.
I don't remember the 5th of September. I wasn't born yet. My birthday is in October.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
June 6, 2006
This is the birthday of my late maternal grandmother, and also of my mother's oldest sister.
This is also the prescribed date for the New Jeruselem to come to Farmington, Maine, at dawn, according to the prophecy of a Quaker acquaintance, Licia Keunning. If you look in the news, it is a date for a lot of Satanic hanky panky too. Am I concerned? Well, we aren't supposed to know the day or hour...and I don't have much regard for Satan worshippers, so I'm not holding my breath. If it comes, it comes.
I prefer to think of it as a birthday. Without the added "meaningfulness" of the year, it was usually a date of celebration and togetherness for my family.
Today, I am up with terrible indigestion, at 4 a.m.. My first thought...will I have my baby today? Then, that'd be cool if it were on my grandma's and aunt's birthday. Then, is it dawn in Farmington yet?
The past few weeks have been filled with nesting instinct sorts of stuff, and getting the kids off to their dad's in Phoenix stuff, and end-of-the schoolyear nuttiness stuff. Since Saturday, for 2 days it has been quiet. But the number of things to do has not slowed down. I have been off of work for about 2 weeks now due to premature labor. My midwife and my pediatrician are gone this week on vacation, so I'm supposed to try and hold off one more week before having this baby. I'm getting daring though. Yesterday I did more than I've done for some time. It started with a trip to Walmart for baby things we didn't get in the shower; lunch at Eatin' Park with my husband after a blood sugar of 69; shopping at Krogers; and then home to laundry, a walk around the yard to look at all I have not been doing...and prune-lopping some first year blackberry canes, and brushing the dogs. I just can't squat the way I used to. Amazingly, I did not go into labor.
I have been waking up at nights talking to the OB (who would deliver if I went into labor while my midwife is gone) telling him he is going to have a bag of pitocin shoved up you know where; and worrying about the temperature in Phoenix. I have a vague paranoia about my ex-husband's teenage Satan worship combined with the significance of this day, and my children being there, but I'm pretty sure at this late date of his life there is nothing to worry about. Pregnancy hormones....and what they do to one's mind.
Last night I saw my abdomen in the mirror, sideways in the bedroom. I'm used to seeing it from above, or straight on. That particular view was incredibly pendulous, and I fell over in shock (on the bed). My husband is beginning to be shocked also. I'm 41. I can't do this much longer. I'll die. The baby has got to come out soon. I don't know if I can wait another week until the midwife comes back. Tomorrow, I may go on a long walk and see what that gets going. When do the raspberries get ripe anyway? If only I could get back to sleep; if only the acid reflux of a pancake flat stomach pushed up into the esophogus would just subside for a few hours. What gets contractions started best is working on the orthopedic unit lifting confused old women into chairs, and going clothes shopping with my daughter. Sometimes my husband's driving will do the trick.
8th grade graduation is over. The prom is over. The kids actually got their laundry done and suitcases packed, and got off on the plane on time, and arrived safely. Lamaze class is over. I have my suitcase mostly packed, and baby clothes washed and put away, sleeping places organized, changing table put together, car seat nearly ready (waiting for a clean car). I have been sewing projects I cut out 10 years ago, and only have a few left to go. The garden is growing a nice patch of burdock right now, and my tomato starts are still sitting on my picnic table, waterlogged from the recent rains, but still good. The chickens are pooping on the back porch daily for want of a better coop. Maybe working on the chicken coop will get my labor started next week.
It is June 6, 2006, close to dawn. I'm nowhere near Maine. So I suppose I'll have to live with it.
This is also the prescribed date for the New Jeruselem to come to Farmington, Maine, at dawn, according to the prophecy of a Quaker acquaintance, Licia Keunning. If you look in the news, it is a date for a lot of Satanic hanky panky too. Am I concerned? Well, we aren't supposed to know the day or hour...and I don't have much regard for Satan worshippers, so I'm not holding my breath. If it comes, it comes.
I prefer to think of it as a birthday. Without the added "meaningfulness" of the year, it was usually a date of celebration and togetherness for my family.
Today, I am up with terrible indigestion, at 4 a.m.. My first thought...will I have my baby today? Then, that'd be cool if it were on my grandma's and aunt's birthday. Then, is it dawn in Farmington yet?
The past few weeks have been filled with nesting instinct sorts of stuff, and getting the kids off to their dad's in Phoenix stuff, and end-of-the schoolyear nuttiness stuff. Since Saturday, for 2 days it has been quiet. But the number of things to do has not slowed down. I have been off of work for about 2 weeks now due to premature labor. My midwife and my pediatrician are gone this week on vacation, so I'm supposed to try and hold off one more week before having this baby. I'm getting daring though. Yesterday I did more than I've done for some time. It started with a trip to Walmart for baby things we didn't get in the shower; lunch at Eatin' Park with my husband after a blood sugar of 69; shopping at Krogers; and then home to laundry, a walk around the yard to look at all I have not been doing...and prune-lopping some first year blackberry canes, and brushing the dogs. I just can't squat the way I used to. Amazingly, I did not go into labor.
I have been waking up at nights talking to the OB (who would deliver if I went into labor while my midwife is gone) telling him he is going to have a bag of pitocin shoved up you know where; and worrying about the temperature in Phoenix. I have a vague paranoia about my ex-husband's teenage Satan worship combined with the significance of this day, and my children being there, but I'm pretty sure at this late date of his life there is nothing to worry about. Pregnancy hormones....and what they do to one's mind.
Last night I saw my abdomen in the mirror, sideways in the bedroom. I'm used to seeing it from above, or straight on. That particular view was incredibly pendulous, and I fell over in shock (on the bed). My husband is beginning to be shocked also. I'm 41. I can't do this much longer. I'll die. The baby has got to come out soon. I don't know if I can wait another week until the midwife comes back. Tomorrow, I may go on a long walk and see what that gets going. When do the raspberries get ripe anyway? If only I could get back to sleep; if only the acid reflux of a pancake flat stomach pushed up into the esophogus would just subside for a few hours. What gets contractions started best is working on the orthopedic unit lifting confused old women into chairs, and going clothes shopping with my daughter. Sometimes my husband's driving will do the trick.
8th grade graduation is over. The prom is over. The kids actually got their laundry done and suitcases packed, and got off on the plane on time, and arrived safely. Lamaze class is over. I have my suitcase mostly packed, and baby clothes washed and put away, sleeping places organized, changing table put together, car seat nearly ready (waiting for a clean car). I have been sewing projects I cut out 10 years ago, and only have a few left to go. The garden is growing a nice patch of burdock right now, and my tomato starts are still sitting on my picnic table, waterlogged from the recent rains, but still good. The chickens are pooping on the back porch daily for want of a better coop. Maybe working on the chicken coop will get my labor started next week.
It is June 6, 2006, close to dawn. I'm nowhere near Maine. So I suppose I'll have to live with it.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Busy Spring
5 goats had 9 babies by the end of March. That totals 17 mixed breed goats. The sheep were getting out every day, and my husband fixed the fence. We traded 6 good sheep for 2 rolls of woven wire fencing on a barter website. That decreased the shearing load in half, as we have 6 sheep left. 3 of them are still due to lamb.
I just have not felt very passionate about much of anything. This pregnancy is taking its toll on me. I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes, and have to take my blood sugars 4 times/day. I've been managing my diet pretty well, but I haven't been gaining much weight. I feel drained all the time. What's more, I am liking my OB less and less, and am now wishing I'd chosen a home birth with a midwife.
I can't complain too much. My life is not bad. I just wish I could DO more. I am not used to getting winded and tired halfway through everything. I will be so glad when the baby gets here. The kids are old enough to help, and they're being helpful. I'm proud of them.
I just have not felt very passionate about much of anything. This pregnancy is taking its toll on me. I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes, and have to take my blood sugars 4 times/day. I've been managing my diet pretty well, but I haven't been gaining much weight. I feel drained all the time. What's more, I am liking my OB less and less, and am now wishing I'd chosen a home birth with a midwife.
I can't complain too much. My life is not bad. I just wish I could DO more. I am not used to getting winded and tired halfway through everything. I will be so glad when the baby gets here. The kids are old enough to help, and they're being helpful. I'm proud of them.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Sleepy
I can't get enough sleep. This is supposed to happen in the first trimester, not the second. We keep finding squash bugs in the house this winter, and I don't know where they are coming from. They are relatively easy to catch. I've been putting them in jars and letting them die. They are scary looking things, but pretty harmless. They look a little like a Mexican bed bug, but without the side wings.
The 16-yr-old son has been unhappy this winter. I am beginning to think he has seasonal depressive disorder, as this happened last year. But then, he has a considerably heavy academic load, with just one less high school class than his classmates, but a full 5-hr college course each quarter at the University branch. All of his high school classes are advanced to boot. He complains he has no social life, but he has enough of one on the weekends to procrastinate doing his homework until about 8:00 Sunday night - things like 3 page research papers, complicated vocab lists to memorize and math problems I've long forgotten how to do. I end up staying up trying to help him get them done. Now he wants to do volunteer work because that was one of the two things that kept him from making the National Honor Society this year. The other thing was the teacher "didn't know his character well enough," since he just transferred. His grades were great. So, today, he is going to help with a Red Cross blood drive for the first time. I don't know for sure what kind of work they put 16-yr-olds to do, but we will find out. When it comes down to it, I'm very proud of him...just frustrated with the day-to-day struggle of procrastination, hour long showers and missing the bus despite getting up 1 1/2 hrs before his younger sister (who has yet to miss the bus this year).
The two kittens born in July are getting fixed today. I have to pick them up after dropping my son off at the blood drive. Then I'm taking my son's computer to the repair shop. Somehow, he smoldered his hard drive. I told him he was working it too hard playing games; but he says, "No, mom. That wouldn't do that." We will see what the repair guy says.
I got my last W-2 form today. I was hoping it would never come. But it did, and now I have to get to work figuring out my taxes. If I quit the investment club and quit the farm, I could do the EZ form maybe. But it is out of the question. It is a yearly necessary evil the government imposes upon me, that I resent immensely. I am all for doing away with income taxes and imposing a flat sales tax. That would clear up our landfills a little, maybe. People would go back to being a little more self sufficient and stop collecting so much junk. Maybe.
There is too much to do. And I am tired.
The 16-yr-old son has been unhappy this winter. I am beginning to think he has seasonal depressive disorder, as this happened last year. But then, he has a considerably heavy academic load, with just one less high school class than his classmates, but a full 5-hr college course each quarter at the University branch. All of his high school classes are advanced to boot. He complains he has no social life, but he has enough of one on the weekends to procrastinate doing his homework until about 8:00 Sunday night - things like 3 page research papers, complicated vocab lists to memorize and math problems I've long forgotten how to do. I end up staying up trying to help him get them done. Now he wants to do volunteer work because that was one of the two things that kept him from making the National Honor Society this year. The other thing was the teacher "didn't know his character well enough," since he just transferred. His grades were great. So, today, he is going to help with a Red Cross blood drive for the first time. I don't know for sure what kind of work they put 16-yr-olds to do, but we will find out. When it comes down to it, I'm very proud of him...just frustrated with the day-to-day struggle of procrastination, hour long showers and missing the bus despite getting up 1 1/2 hrs before his younger sister (who has yet to miss the bus this year).
The two kittens born in July are getting fixed today. I have to pick them up after dropping my son off at the blood drive. Then I'm taking my son's computer to the repair shop. Somehow, he smoldered his hard drive. I told him he was working it too hard playing games; but he says, "No, mom. That wouldn't do that." We will see what the repair guy says.
I got my last W-2 form today. I was hoping it would never come. But it did, and now I have to get to work figuring out my taxes. If I quit the investment club and quit the farm, I could do the EZ form maybe. But it is out of the question. It is a yearly necessary evil the government imposes upon me, that I resent immensely. I am all for doing away with income taxes and imposing a flat sales tax. That would clear up our landfills a little, maybe. People would go back to being a little more self sufficient and stop collecting so much junk. Maybe.
There is too much to do. And I am tired.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Swords of Righteousness
This is the name of the group that kidnapped the CPT members. Numerous news sources connect them loosely with the Iraqi Army, but the connection is vague. The only websites that might shed some light on the connection are for some reason not accessible. I can't even get into Eastern Mennonite University's website, not to mention the particular articles on "Swords of Righteousness."
The blogs I can access repeatedly talk as if the CPT members should "expect" such things as kidnapping when they walk in harms way. Duh. Where have these people been the past 200 years??? Do they think peace workers do not know this?
I am sure the U.S. govt. is going to want a rescue, if any, be made by the U.S. government, so they can look good. The so-called bigots will rescue the misled dopes, so to speak. Some of us will have a hard time being convinced the rescuers weren't somehow involved in the kidnapping to begin with, as some of our direct news sources have been shut off, so to speak. But in the end, after the hype, the truth WILL come out. Whether I am right or wrong, it will. And someday, I will find out who the Swords of Truth really are.
On a lighter note, it is raining today, and I need to get ready for work. It is Sunday.
The blogs I can access repeatedly talk as if the CPT members should "expect" such things as kidnapping when they walk in harms way. Duh. Where have these people been the past 200 years??? Do they think peace workers do not know this?
I am sure the U.S. govt. is going to want a rescue, if any, be made by the U.S. government, so they can look good. The so-called bigots will rescue the misled dopes, so to speak. Some of us will have a hard time being convinced the rescuers weren't somehow involved in the kidnapping to begin with, as some of our direct news sources have been shut off, so to speak. But in the end, after the hype, the truth WILL come out. Whether I am right or wrong, it will. And someday, I will find out who the Swords of Truth really are.
On a lighter note, it is raining today, and I need to get ready for work. It is Sunday.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Cleaning Up
It has been a little over a week since my last post. I wish I had included the entity that was holding the CPT members because the name of it has been removed from all the websites that initially had that information, and changed to phrases like, "Those who are holding our loved ones." I can only guess at why this was done. It is certainly convenient for those wanting to distance themselves from the act, but I'm sure there is some reason.
Here at home I have accomplished much. I cleaned 7 medium kitchen garbage bags full of clothes out of my bedroom - clothes I have not worn for at least a year; some for 10-20 years. I gave it all to someone who is involved in a church in the poor part of a nearby small city. Now we almost have room in our bedroom for a crib, with a little rearranging. We need a crib because we are having a baby - at 41 and 53. I have been very, very tired in between working, so cleaning is doubly a process.
And yet, I have a strong desire to rid my house of a lot of clutter. So I joined 3 Freecycle groups. My daughter helped me clean out cupboards last week, but I still haven't gotten the jars into boxes, so the kitchen is rather cluttered. It is a good preoccupation to be getting rid of junk.
Here at home I have accomplished much. I cleaned 7 medium kitchen garbage bags full of clothes out of my bedroom - clothes I have not worn for at least a year; some for 10-20 years. I gave it all to someone who is involved in a church in the poor part of a nearby small city. Now we almost have room in our bedroom for a crib, with a little rearranging. We need a crib because we are having a baby - at 41 and 53. I have been very, very tired in between working, so cleaning is doubly a process.
And yet, I have a strong desire to rid my house of a lot of clutter. So I joined 3 Freecycle groups. My daughter helped me clean out cupboards last week, but I still haven't gotten the jars into boxes, so the kitchen is rather cluttered. It is a good preoccupation to be getting rid of junk.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
We've Only Got These Times
The first time I met someone on a Christian Peacemaker Team was the year after my divorce. I was sent by my Quaker Meeting as a representative to a conference of an organization comprised of the 3 historic peace churches, called New Call to Peacemaking. (The 3 churches being the Brethren, Mennonites and Friends/Quakers) We were discussing "The Jubilee," 40 years since the invention of the atomic bomb, and how it had affected our culture, war and peace.
Sitting crosslegged in a student lounge in the dormitory at Earlham College in Richmond, Indiana, some of us women were sharing our backgrounds and how we'd gotten involved. It had been after an evening meal. My parents had long been involved in FWCC - Friends World Committee for Consultation. FWCC is an organization of all Quaker groups - they get together and decide issues or parts of issues they agree on as a whole. And they sponsor some activities and events. One such event is the Quaker Youth Pilgrimage - a yearly international trek to Quaker historical sites for highschool aged youth. Another entity they sponser is Christian Peacemaker Teams. I've heard people from CPT's come back with reports on helping clear fields for farming for both Palestinians and Isrealis. I'd thought that someday I'd like to work with the CPT - it was not so contraversial as some other peace organizations.
In 2005, around Thanksgiving, 4 CPT workers in Iraq disappeared. They were doing something contraversial. They were documenting specific cases, and following up on what happened to people being detained in Iraq, whom they had gotten to know by working with them, doing what CPT always do - rebuilding communities with all sides working together. They were detained by the Iraqi government - the current, U.S. backed government. This hits close to home for me, too close to home.
It is widely known that the U.S. has been running secret prisons, and torture and abuse have been discovered in some of them. Now the CIA is being investigated by a European human rights watch group. CPT teams were documenting what was going on in Iraq before it even became public, because they are supposed to keep record of what they do and its outcome. They have people to report back to. When people they knew (who were not terrorists) had their homes raided, family members killed, and some taken away and later released, they wrote that down too. It is often the way atrocities are found out - by chance, not going looking for them. Now 4 CPT members have disappeared. Only this time, it is not terrorists who have them. And it is not terrorists whom are being detained. There is something else going on, and it is very, very dark. It is called suppression of the Truth. It is by a government who have long been believed to be "the Good Guys." Only, that government is quickly changing.
Sitting crosslegged in a student lounge in the dormitory at Earlham College in Richmond, Indiana, some of us women were sharing our backgrounds and how we'd gotten involved. It had been after an evening meal. My parents had long been involved in FWCC - Friends World Committee for Consultation. FWCC is an organization of all Quaker groups - they get together and decide issues or parts of issues they agree on as a whole. And they sponsor some activities and events. One such event is the Quaker Youth Pilgrimage - a yearly international trek to Quaker historical sites for highschool aged youth. Another entity they sponser is Christian Peacemaker Teams. I've heard people from CPT's come back with reports on helping clear fields for farming for both Palestinians and Isrealis. I'd thought that someday I'd like to work with the CPT - it was not so contraversial as some other peace organizations.
In 2005, around Thanksgiving, 4 CPT workers in Iraq disappeared. They were doing something contraversial. They were documenting specific cases, and following up on what happened to people being detained in Iraq, whom they had gotten to know by working with them, doing what CPT always do - rebuilding communities with all sides working together. They were detained by the Iraqi government - the current, U.S. backed government. This hits close to home for me, too close to home.
It is widely known that the U.S. has been running secret prisons, and torture and abuse have been discovered in some of them. Now the CIA is being investigated by a European human rights watch group. CPT teams were documenting what was going on in Iraq before it even became public, because they are supposed to keep record of what they do and its outcome. They have people to report back to. When people they knew (who were not terrorists) had their homes raided, family members killed, and some taken away and later released, they wrote that down too. It is often the way atrocities are found out - by chance, not going looking for them. Now 4 CPT members have disappeared. Only this time, it is not terrorists who have them. And it is not terrorists whom are being detained. There is something else going on, and it is very, very dark. It is called suppression of the Truth. It is by a government who have long been believed to be "the Good Guys." Only, that government is quickly changing.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Animal Facts
Reading back through old posts, I realized that there are a couple of things needing updated. Sabrina, the llama was never pregnant. I was very disappointed, but glad I hadn't paid $80 or more to have a test, just to find out she wasn't. She is an excellent guard llama and you aren't supposed to breed guard llama's anyway. But it would've been nice.
Pete, the dog, has long passed his acting-abused stage. He's killed more poultry, and we can't let him run loose now, except on short occaisions where he follows us to the barn to do chores and has eyes-on supervision at all times. He comes when called now, and is a happy, loveable adolescent. He knows several commands thoroughly. He will never make a herding dog, however. I'm trying to find him a new home, but am kind of settled with the fact I probably won't. We may make him a house dog after we get him fixed and he's a year or so old. He's still a little too destructive right now - but is far from the most destructive dog I've ever had. He will make a nice pet when he's a little older.
The 2 kittens are 6 months old, and I have an appointment to have them fixed. At $70/cat, that's $140 just to have 2 fixed cats. But I don't want any more cats. We have 5. Stephanie, the teenage girl 2 of them belong to, as it turns out, is only taking back one, and it isn't Zoe, the female. Good thing I got her spayed. Butterscotch is going to be a huge Tom (albeit a fixed one), and Frosty has lost her frost. She's all black except for her toes. However, the name suits her personality for a female cat quite well. She is not a lap kitty - lets just put it that way. I expect she will be a good huntress though.
So there you have it. Animals are not cheap, and they require a lot of attention. I am sure Pete's neutering and shots will cost a good bit too. I told my husband last night that we are going to keep 10 ewes and a ram, and sell the rest. I don't mind the goats. Shearing sheep is harder than putting up hay. The animals are halfway through the hay, and we don't have room in the barn for much more. My brother plans to build another boat in the other hay loft, and wants that space. So 25 animals will be our limit. They won't clear the pasture overnight like 100 would, but they will still clear it, slowly, over the next 5 or so years.
Pete, the dog, has long passed his acting-abused stage. He's killed more poultry, and we can't let him run loose now, except on short occaisions where he follows us to the barn to do chores and has eyes-on supervision at all times. He comes when called now, and is a happy, loveable adolescent. He knows several commands thoroughly. He will never make a herding dog, however. I'm trying to find him a new home, but am kind of settled with the fact I probably won't. We may make him a house dog after we get him fixed and he's a year or so old. He's still a little too destructive right now - but is far from the most destructive dog I've ever had. He will make a nice pet when he's a little older.
The 2 kittens are 6 months old, and I have an appointment to have them fixed. At $70/cat, that's $140 just to have 2 fixed cats. But I don't want any more cats. We have 5. Stephanie, the teenage girl 2 of them belong to, as it turns out, is only taking back one, and it isn't Zoe, the female. Good thing I got her spayed. Butterscotch is going to be a huge Tom (albeit a fixed one), and Frosty has lost her frost. She's all black except for her toes. However, the name suits her personality for a female cat quite well. She is not a lap kitty - lets just put it that way. I expect she will be a good huntress though.
So there you have it. Animals are not cheap, and they require a lot of attention. I am sure Pete's neutering and shots will cost a good bit too. I told my husband last night that we are going to keep 10 ewes and a ram, and sell the rest. I don't mind the goats. Shearing sheep is harder than putting up hay. The animals are halfway through the hay, and we don't have room in the barn for much more. My brother plans to build another boat in the other hay loft, and wants that space. So 25 animals will be our limit. They won't clear the pasture overnight like 100 would, but they will still clear it, slowly, over the next 5 or so years.
Unearthed, Debrambled Treasure
Yesterday I went for a walk in the pasture. I took a bucket full of pasture mix grass seed with me to scatter where the goats have eaten down the multiflora roses. WELL, the goats and sheep see a bucket, and they think FOOOD!!! (Well, it would be eventually). So they followed me all the way out into the pasture, 25 animals crowding around me, nipping on my pant legs to give them some. I felt like a real shepherd. I tried showing them it was grass seed - even let them nibble a little of it. They sputtered and looked confused that it wasn't grain. Goats and sheep are really dumb sometimes. Bucket means FOOD, even if it has grass seed. They gave up when I got into the brambles and went back to the barn.
In the brambles, I found some nice 10 ft locust logs someone had cut years ago, buried under multiflora rose bushes that were wasting away from goats eating them. The logs were thus recently exposed again to daylight. There are enough to finish my grape harbor! Now, today, I want to go out and clip a path through the rose bushes that are left, so the tractor can get through to pull the logs out. They are NICE logs, and still in very good shape.
I remember when they were cut. Back when the pasture was still somewhat clear of brambles, my dad was letting one of the neigbor farmers take them out. The neighbor brought his farm hand with him to help cut, stack and split the logs. His helper and I got to know each other a little too well after that...but back to the main topic. The black locust was so tough that they couldn't split the logs for fence posts, and they gave up and left them there. They've been sitting there for about 25 years.
My husband thinks he might have a go at it. He has split a lot of logs, even black locust. Some of them don't even need split. But are they ever heavy.
Now a lot of people would wonder at this being called a "treasure."
But I just spent over $70 on 6 treated posts for a grape harbor. That was $11.60 per post at the farm co-op for a 5" round by 8ft treated pine post. (I wanted 10 ft so the harbor would be a comfortable 8ft off the ground after the posts were set, but they didn't have them.) I need at least 4 more, and there are a good 6-10 right out there in the pasture, and 10 ft long! Pine posts have to be treated, or they will rot in a year or three, and all the work building a grape harbor will have to be redone. Black locust does not have to be treated - it will outlast a treated pine post. There are two grape harbors that need raised up to keep from the goats. And a chicken house to be built. I am very happy.
In the brambles, I found some nice 10 ft locust logs someone had cut years ago, buried under multiflora rose bushes that were wasting away from goats eating them. The logs were thus recently exposed again to daylight. There are enough to finish my grape harbor! Now, today, I want to go out and clip a path through the rose bushes that are left, so the tractor can get through to pull the logs out. They are NICE logs, and still in very good shape.
I remember when they were cut. Back when the pasture was still somewhat clear of brambles, my dad was letting one of the neigbor farmers take them out. The neighbor brought his farm hand with him to help cut, stack and split the logs. His helper and I got to know each other a little too well after that...but back to the main topic. The black locust was so tough that they couldn't split the logs for fence posts, and they gave up and left them there. They've been sitting there for about 25 years.
My husband thinks he might have a go at it. He has split a lot of logs, even black locust. Some of them don't even need split. But are they ever heavy.
Now a lot of people would wonder at this being called a "treasure."
But I just spent over $70 on 6 treated posts for a grape harbor. That was $11.60 per post at the farm co-op for a 5" round by 8ft treated pine post. (I wanted 10 ft so the harbor would be a comfortable 8ft off the ground after the posts were set, but they didn't have them.) I need at least 4 more, and there are a good 6-10 right out there in the pasture, and 10 ft long! Pine posts have to be treated, or they will rot in a year or three, and all the work building a grape harbor will have to be redone. Black locust does not have to be treated - it will outlast a treated pine post. There are two grape harbors that need raised up to keep from the goats. And a chicken house to be built. I am very happy.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Grape Vine Rescue
5 months gone by without posting... but what a busy 5 months.
Today we went to the feed co-op and got 500 lbs "Saddle-up" horse feed for the goats, sheep and llama. They've been thriving well this past year on it, and it is a lot cheaper than goat, sheep or llama feed.
We have Concord seeded grape vines that are over 100 years old. My g-grandmother used to sell grapes in town from them. Last year the goats almost killed them. The wire harbors are still viable, but I have decided to raise the harbor to a walk-under kind. My husband wanted to cut locust trees to make posts for me, but he was doing that for the chickens too. The chickens will be a year old in April, and we don't have a chicken house started yet. So I decided not to wait for posts for my grape harbors, and purchased 6 treated 5"x8' posts at the co-op when we picked up feed.
We are going to set them, and nail up a ceiling grid for them to climb over, where the goats can't reach them. The goats stay in the pasture most of the time, but they jump out to eat my grape vines.
We also bought syringes to give the baby goats shots. We had a set of triplets and a single just before Christmas from two boer cross does I bought last summer. My Alpine/Toggenburg cross buck bred them both, it appears, as soon as they jumped off the truck. The babies look distinctively Alpine. 2 boys and 2 girls. One of my brother's friends is going to fix one of my cars for me, and he wants to know if he can have 2 goats instead of money. I LIKE that idea.
So much to do...so little time...
Today we went to the feed co-op and got 500 lbs "Saddle-up" horse feed for the goats, sheep and llama. They've been thriving well this past year on it, and it is a lot cheaper than goat, sheep or llama feed.
We have Concord seeded grape vines that are over 100 years old. My g-grandmother used to sell grapes in town from them. Last year the goats almost killed them. The wire harbors are still viable, but I have decided to raise the harbor to a walk-under kind. My husband wanted to cut locust trees to make posts for me, but he was doing that for the chickens too. The chickens will be a year old in April, and we don't have a chicken house started yet. So I decided not to wait for posts for my grape harbors, and purchased 6 treated 5"x8' posts at the co-op when we picked up feed.
We are going to set them, and nail up a ceiling grid for them to climb over, where the goats can't reach them. The goats stay in the pasture most of the time, but they jump out to eat my grape vines.
We also bought syringes to give the baby goats shots. We had a set of triplets and a single just before Christmas from two boer cross does I bought last summer. My Alpine/Toggenburg cross buck bred them both, it appears, as soon as they jumped off the truck. The babies look distinctively Alpine. 2 boys and 2 girls. One of my brother's friends is going to fix one of my cars for me, and he wants to know if he can have 2 goats instead of money. I LIKE that idea.
So much to do...so little time...
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