Blue hands & Blue heart

Yesterday started out as a pretty good day. I looked outside to see a beautiful sunrise and two mallard ducks that have been coming around every morning just hanging out in the dugout in again. At this point I'm feeling confident enough to say they are our regular visitors, our pals, our ducky friends. My hope is that at some point they're going to bring their little duckling babies here and then I'll feel like I was a part of their little duck romance. I could be the cool aunt.

Our new pals Donald and Daisy

 I hung out with the chickens, who are still laying despite the snow! Fed and watered the sheep. I fed the yaks. I TOUCHED ONE OF THE YAKS. It wasn't a welcomed pet and she ran away as soon as she realized it was me touching her not hay, but still, she's so soft!!! Of course her sister took off as soon as she did and then I felt guilty for making them nervous. I just want to be their friends so bad!

 Then the sheep shearer came. Things went sideways. Though I told the shearer over the phone what breed of sheep I had he was surprised by their horns when he met them in person. He had told me that I didn't need to be present but then requested my help in holding them still. Both those things were things that should have been a "get him gone" red flag. PETA has numerous arguments centred around sheep shearing being inhumane. It has never seemed that way to me, until yesterday. It was aggressive and violent and I literally cried the entire time. Just apologizing to my sheep babies over and over again. By the time Scout was done, so was I. I couldn't do it again, I asked the man to leave Walske. He did Calpernia first, and while I know that sometimes sheep get nicked when they're being sheared she had so many cuts. It made my heart ache just to look at her.

 I called the man I bought the sheep from, (bless his heart, he still answers the phone) still hysterical. He explained to me that I had gotten a shearer that was no good, that my experience was an anomaly. He talked me through the fact that although sheep don't love getting sheared it usually takes about three to five minutes and is painless. He further explained what to do to help the cuts heal. So into town I went to get the proper treatments for my girls. I had been so focused on just getting them what they needed I of course did not look in the mirror. I went into the feed store, and got some fairly strange looks but I was not distracted from my mission. Once I had the Blu-Kote in hand, I got back into my car and looked in the mirror. LORD CHER HAVE MERCY. My hair was sticking out in a million different directions accented by the abundant amount of hay stuck in there. My face was red and puffy with dirt (possibly poop, it's hard to tell after a day on the barn floor) smeared all over my face from where I wiped my tears with my filthy hand. My clothes were all covered in hay, mud and poop. (I'm not certain about the mud, but for my own sanity I'm choosing to believe at least some of that was mud) It's such a very long way from the girl I once was. I once went nearly three years never even wearing a pair of pants, dresses and skirts only.  

I wear the blue stain of bad shearing shame

 I got back home promptly applied the Blu-Kote and gave my girls so many treats. Now, granted I should have assumed based on the name that this antiseptic spray would be blue, I did not. I was surprised when it came out blue. I was even further surprised when I touched the sheep and stained my hands blue. It doesn't come off just by washing, I'm sure there's probably some well known remedy to get it off your skin, but I googled it, and got nothing so it's probably one of those things you learn from other wiser farmers.

 Yesterday was the first day that I really questioned whether or not I was cut out for this farm life but I think I can do it provided me and my animals survive my rookie mistakes. They are beginning to forgive me already I think, they let me give them lots of pets and eat treats right out of my non-blue hand. The thing is, if I'm going to run a farm I want to do it in the most ethical way possible. I feel strongly that yesterdays event was not an ethical treatment of my girls. It's difficult for me to reconcile my beliefs about animal treatment with what I allowed to happen. 

In other news, we've been selling so many eggs now that we have a hard time keeping up. We went from too many eggs to not enough. The struggle is endless.

SPEAKING OF STRUGGLES. Here's an update on our home reno; 

-the floor & subfloor are finally replaced 

- there are mice living in our walls

-the kitchen sink is broken

-the washing machine is broken

-the dishwasher doesn't work

If ya'll are living in a home that isn't a construction zone of endless misery go and kiss your walls right now, thank them for not providing homes for mice. 

I did also purchase a gorgeous set of super modern white couches and tables. I'm not sure how it'll work into my farmhouse chic vibe but I'll figure it out. Maybe I'll get me some rooster themed throw pillows.