...the pigs and chickens got some new neighbors!

Last week, while still detoxing from hospital baby trauma, we had some exciting developments on the farm. Betty, our miserably pregnant goat, surprised us all by birthing triplet baby kids. Unlike last year's birthing, we didn't even aid (or even cheerlead) the birth. The Mister went in the back to check on the animals, and 3 little baby goats were scrambling for their first steps.



Little Rainbow Girl got stuck hanging out with the goats for a couple hours to make sure all the baby goats were nursing from their mother. Because one thing is for sure, Mrs. Olsen already has her own kid to feed, and didn't want to be stuck on bottle duty with a furry kid.



Wait a second...how did that get in there? Only machinistic institutions tag human kids. Who did that?

Back to the furry kind...



Betty on the lookout. Our other goat, Millie, tries to head-butt these baby's against the wall. What is her deal? But seriously, she is asking for it. Betty will quickly put her in her place.

Later in the week, we tackled (by "we" I mean The Mister) our new farm project of 2011. Here's a hint...



We ordered these back in February/March, and they finally arrived! There were 2 packages of bees, each 3 pounds. Nothing quite like hearing the pitter-patter of thousands of bees getting dumped into their new home. I was a little nervous.



Our neighbors got a hive last year and harvested 16 pounds of honey. We'll see how productive these guys are...and if we happen to get 30 pounds of honey, we will be more than pleased (and possibly so will anyone getting Christmas goodies this winter).



And lastly, our rooster. This guy's got it out for Rainbow Girl. He has attacked her a couple times while she was unawares, flying and pecking her knees and causing her to bleed (through her clothes. punk!).



So I've got his number:

it's

1-800-HEAD-OFF

happening later this summer.

So much has been happening here that it's almost a relief to have them done before the baby is here. Correction: it's a relief that The Mister has these projects done so Mrs. Olsen has him for few days after kiddo arrives to boss him around, change all the diapers, and get pampered.



Check out all our beautiful eggs! The speckled egg is from our blue slate turkey, who takes forever to become Thanksgiving worthy.

Our goat Betty is due any day! There is a birthing kit ready in the garage for the moment she goes into labor. I tease The Mister that his first love is having a kid soon, and his second love had a baby due yesterday. This is just my super effective methods of getting extra sympathy for harvesting his exploding seed in my gut.

And check it! We have pigs again. This time we're trying to raise them for the fair, which means Rainbow Girl has to become their buddies and be able to lead them around an area with a tap of a stick. Should be interesting.

Also, coming soon to the farm and for the first time: HONEYBEES. I can't wait!

Remember this view from Bok Bok Cottage recently?

Last week our two goats had their kids. During the month prior, The Mister of the House purchased a goat care book, watched disturbing YouTube videos, and checked on the expectant mothers several times a day. When some experienced farmer friends indicated that the goats could go any day now, The Mister of the House officially shifted into hyperdrive. He turned to me after they left and stated: I don't even have my birthing kit ready yet!

As for me, I generally snored like a lion while The Mister wrested the sheets worrying about the having to turn a baby goat for delivery. When it comes to his paternal-like worry patterns in comparison with my seeming indifference, I'd like to chalk it up to the fact that I have birthed three kids of my own, that I trust the female species to get the job down, and my inner sense of keeping it cool. Yet, I have to admit that my husband is a Man of Action who gets the job done. So I thanked him by nodding off mid-sentence and sleeping like a baby, all the while smiling sweet lover's dream of worried husbands scrambling to assemble a birthing kit.

As for my own part in the bringing of new life to the farm, I was excited! I have sweat, bled, and cried while bringing my kids into the world, and have never been afforded the birds-eye view of the process. To say I was curious is putting it lightly. And to calm The Mister's fears, and because I have smaller hands, I agreed to turn the baby goat if the delivery went amiss.

So last Wednesday I got birth on my hands. Okay just a second, how cool is that sentence: Last Wednesday I got birth on my hands.

Alright alright...I wasn't up to my elbows in the ooey-gooey. As my female senses detected (that's what it was right?) the baby goats arrived without any complication with no mid-birthing canal transitions. But apparently the curse of Eve and the consequential increase of sorrow while bringing life into the world attends all female counterparts, not just the human ones. So as it happened, the mama goat scrambled and jolted with her pains and practically birthed her kid into the wall. So after the crowning, and an exclamation of joy! I pulled the baby onto a towel so we could gargle the guck from his nose and throat.

It was truly precious to see. Mama licked her baby clean, licked my hands clean, then ate her afterbirth.

These things happen in nature people.

And I am left to ponder: Should I really be getting this attached to farm animals? Why does *most* life begin awash in blood and water?



And again and again, this scripture kept tumbling through my brain:

For by the water ye keep the commandment; by the Spirit ye are justified, and by the blood ye are sanctified;

Blood and water keeps working again and again: to bring life, to renew life, to atone.



Ready for some pictures folks?

I know I know! I honestly look like a new mother. Kindof cheesy, but here I am with one of Matilda's twins.



And here's the REAL farmer bob with the goats. To say that this man is finding his purpose in life here on the farm, is to say that everyone loves ice cream. Tis true. Tis true.


Poor little Rainbow Girl is the #1 help on the farm. After watching her second goat birth, she stated: I don't want to be a girl. But with her female-ness comes the innate love and nurturing that is a gift to all daughters of Eve, be they mothers or not.



Behold the seed of Agamemnon!



My poop boots are cooler than your poop boots.



The end.

Late last year we made a farm addition that has yet to be announced on this blog. You see, after reading about cows and how they trash the land, we wondered what animal we could raise that would be cleaner on the land, and also require a little less maintenance. After asking around, The Mister of the House made the executive decision to get some goats. Their breed is called : Boer Goats. What that basically means is that they are.....ummmmm, they're meat goats.