In other news, I had my broken neck surgery and then had to fall when the cow bowled me over with joy at seeing her momma. The second neck surgery is not going so well. I believe they hired some homeless guy to tube me because it's been a whole week since surgery and the neck is still sore and I have no voice. I do feel better though. No more stumbling and weakness and dizziness. OTOH, my right arm is simply gone. It doesn't move and I can't use it at all. Doc says it will go away, just swelling from the surgery. Gee, that's what he said about my left hand which is still dead. Oh well, we'll see.

Here's an easy dinner that seems to work with all my kids and the various neighborhood kids who drop over at mealtime.
Now I can my own beef and chicken (we'll do a blog on that sometime later) so it's easy for me to use the can of meat with the juices for gravy. You can buy a jar of gravy at the store and chopped up meat if you so desire, or no meat at all. When the gravy is done and hot add some asian stir fry veggies or just some frozen veggies that the kids like. Top with Chinese noodles and it's a quick, easy, nutritious meal for everyone.

In the midnight hour….

As the title implies I was awakened last night in the middle of the night.  The glow from the bathroom shone on the beloved man beside me and I nearly reached out to him but the coils of feeding catheter and drain tubes stretching out like anemic bowel stopped me.  The constant flow of milky nutrient balanced by the drain of foul slurry into the bag I wear makes me self-conscious.  So, I wrapped myself a little tighter in the blankets and let my thoughts roam.

As always, my musings turn to my shortcomings as a parent.  Sometimes I relive an entire day berating myself for things I could have done or could have done better.  On the one hand I honestly believe that parents who don’t second guess themselves once in awhile probably should but I’ll admit that I obsess more than I should.

In an attempt to cheer myself up and turn my thought from self-flagellation I start planning my egg incubating.  With any luck at all I will be up and about a week or so after this next surgery.  I’m hoping to fill an incubator with chicken eggs as soon as I’m able.  Hopefully the turkeys will have started laying by then and I can get a few ready to go in the other incubator.

Thoughts of baby chicks naturally lead to more springtime plans and I worry for awhile about the whereabouts of my missing garden seeds.  Of course I’m also worried because I’ve never waited so long to start my seedlings.  Will I be able to fuss over the little pots of dirt and seeds as I usually do?  Will I have a greenhouse full of splendid tomatoes?  And what about the other gardening?  I’d love to see the kids eat some good fresh salads, squash and melons.  Yeah, this train of thought doesn’t seem to be any more uplifting than any of the others.

Here’s a great topic!  I should consider my plans for finishing my training and riding on Dixie my horse.  Wouldn’t it be grand to walk sedately around the neighborhood, perhaps a little trot allowed on the way home….oh, how I long to fly at full gallop one more time.  But then the doubts come creeping in.  What if I can’t train her?  What if I think she’s pretty well trained and then I get hurt?  I forget that I was once strong and fearless with a horse because I’m now weak and already have so much pain.  Will I be strong again?

The pain in my side reminds me that I have another surgery coming up on Monday and then floodgates open for all the usual worries and fears about yet another hospitalization.

About this time I decide that my brain is not someplace I want to be so I make a brief journey to my happy place while I practice some meditative breathing and I sink into sleep.

I’m hoping that one of these days I’ll actually have farm stuff to talk about on Farmgirl musings. 

Finally!!! Part Three

The next few days were full of surprises for me.  All this time I’d thought that I was supposed to be short of breath after strolling around the couch ten times!  Wrong!  I hadn’t been able to lay on my sides to sleep at night and my back was beginning to scream about that but suddenly side sleeping was not only possible but the best way to sleep.  Once again I was lulled into thinking I was on the mend.

Another fever started on a Friday and I battled it off and on all weekend.  I finally tearfully agreed that the doctor must be called and he pronounced that it must be a PIC line infection and I needed to make another trip to the hospital.  The hospital confirmed an infection after drawing several gallons of my blood.  I was sent off to have my PIC line removed.  Greg was upset thinking that he’d made me sick.  Removing the PIC was a piece of cake but it turned out that putting a new one in was not going to be so easy.  Damn those roly poly veins of mine.  Doctor decided a central line would be safer and easier to install so off I went for that procedure.  The nurses put in a regular IV so that they could sedate me but it turns out that installing a central line hurts!  I guess I could be over stating this since I was also quite sick with infection and that tends to exaggerate pain perception but OW!

I’m hoping that was that last dramatic episode and that I’m on the mend.  I’m trying to cut back on pain pills now and find that between the pain and the lack of narcotics I get a little weepy.  It doesn’t help that I try to overdo things and work too hard at getting better instead of letting it come naturally but now we have more good news!  Greg’s surgery has been approved!!  I have to get better to take care of him.

Finally!!! Part Two

 

In the last installation of our never-ending story we left poor, sick Lor in a hospital bed filled with toxic fluid and a particular hostility for Doctors who don’t explain the whole story and present a cohesive plan.

It seemed like the longest night until a nurse told me that it seemed I was scheduled for a procedure to place a drain in my gut next morning.  More drugs and I slept.  I’m thinking that at this point we may have been going a little overboard on the drugs.  I don’t really remember the drain placing procedure although I’ve been told I erupted like Old Faithful and filled three drain bags quite quickly.  I do remember a nurse showing us the drain and telling us that we needn’t worry about positioning as this drain would remove the liquid regardless of gravity.

   More hearsay as I don’t recall many things that happened in those days at the hospital:  things that went into my stomach were not playing ball and going through this new pouch hole into the intestine.  No, stomach contents wanted to stay in the new pouch and the new pouch was still paralyzed and unable to help move things along with any muscle contractions or other GI functions.  We had to heal stomach pouch and get it working again, so back to clear liquids only and a new little buddy-a PIC line to use for taking in nutrition!  WOOT!  I get night feedings just like Mikey used to have when he had his GI tube! 

Several days of observation and getting pain meds straightened out and I was released again to go home.  This time I went home with a new drain, a new pump and a nurse who would come visit me several times a week.

Just a little off topic ramble here.  Remember the old days when people went into the hospital and friends and neighbors and relatives all sent small gifts, flowers, books, etc to the patient?  Remember paying obligatory visits to hospital patients to “cheer them up”?  I can easily recall finding out that Mr. Johnson was taking care of his three children alone while Mrs. Johnson was in the hospital so the whole community would go into cooking mode and drop off casseroles and cookies and at Mr. Johnson’s house so that he wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.  Why, even Mr. Johnson’s mother would open up his house and the neighbors would be in there cleaning……  Okay, back to our regularly scheduled blog with that mournful commentary on times past.

So I was home….again but still not feeling well.  My little walks around the couch for exercise were going well but I was still running out of breath by the time I’d hit my goal for the day.  Always tired, now I started to feel sick. 

A few days after I returned home I was running a temperature.  Those memories of the Staph infection in my back that almost killed me rushed back and now we were terrified and depressed.  The doctor told me to take Tylenol for the fever but that if the fever went over 101 or kept up for more than a few days I’d be back in the hospital.

As I sat on the edge of the bed shivering off a fever on my last day before I was going to have to call the doctor and tell him we couldn’t keep the fever under control, I was milking the line to the new drain.  It had been several days since there had been much coming out of the bag but I’d hoped that meant the stomach was waking up and doing it’s job.  But now my old nursing training came back and everything was gravity flow.  We even learned how to set up surgical suction using a big bottle and gravity.  So I unhooked the bag from it’s pin on my bra and dropped the bag unceremoniously to the floor.  Almost immediately the bag began to fill.  After three trips to the bathroom to dump this nasty stuff, it slowed and I slept. 

to be continued:

Finally!!! Part One

Are you ready for the big medical mystery, adventure tale that is my life?  For any readers who are checking this blog out please remember that my experiences will not be the same as yours.  I had to have a much earlier surgery that had gone very bad, revised and repaired.  This has created many complications and frequent scares for us this past month.

The approval and subsequent scheduling of an actual surgery date set off a flurry of emotions.  Depression and mourning:  Really?  I’m never going to eat a piece of bread again?  How long will I have to wait to taste peanuts or diet pepsi again?  Then there was a sense of “live for the day”:  knowing I wouldn’t eat them for a long time if ever, I binged on my favorite Friday’s Bacon and Cheddar potato skin chips and Butter Toffee peanuts until I almost burst.  Of course, right behind that came the euphoria that finally, finally we were heading towards a real solution to my many stomach and weight problems.   I would dream about putting on skinny jeans and riding horses.  Fear followed:  what if it doesn’t work, what if I die on the table, what if I die from the many complications that this particular surgery often entails?

I checked in December 21st in the afternoon.  Cutting and gutting me took several hours so I woke to a dark sky and the kind of pain that eats you whole.  After a few punches on the pump that provided pain meds I was a little more comfortable and even managed to walk and pee on my own to the delight and awe of the nurses. 

Over the course of the next few days I developed some killer back pain but everything else seemed to be healing well.  I walked several times a day and began to talk about going home whenever I wasn’t whining about the back pain and trying to find enough pain meds to alleviate said pain.

The doctor let me go on a Saturday, a few days earlier than the original plan.  My last words to him as I made my exit were that I hoped the pill form of Dilaudid would help cut some of the back pain.

The first couple of days at home seemed to go pretty well though I was uncomfortable with back pain.  Greg lobbed the ball back at the doctor when he tried to make my post-op appointment and asked if they could send a wheel-chair as he couldn’t see how I would manage to walk all the way to the office.  The doctor was concerned but I was still complaining of BACK pain and his job and been to fix my stomach.  Surely the two were unrelated.

A couple of days later I could not find one place to rest that was comfortable.  No amount of narcotics would calm the screaming neurons so this time when Greg called the doctor and insisted we go to the emergency room I decided to acquiesce.

That night, overcome with a sense of failure, angry at my body’s betrayal and scared that this was the beginning of something bad, I probably wasn’t the nicest patient.  Drinking contrast dye seemed like an act of torture.  Nice IV drugs made the CAT scan go smoothly but then a doctor came to my room, said “Looks like you’ve got a huge pocket of liquid sitting inside and we’ll probably have to do more surgery.”  “Good night.”  Yeah, because knowing there’s some toxic fluid that’s killing you inside is always a cure for insomnia. 

to be continued:

Dilaudid Dreams-Part One

Okay, I know everyone is waiting with baited breath for the whole rundown on the surgery and my recovery so far but while in the hospital I was on a Dilaudid drip which actually caused hallucinations.  I saw scampering little kitties everywhere, big jovial, multi-colored rats and happy polar bears made of bed linens.  That hospital had a regular infestation of capering, playful animals!  So while the hallucinations weren’t actually threatening in any way I was a little worried about taking Dilaudid in pill form when I came home and wanted to relate to my children in some semblance of normality.  The pain finally got to me and no hallucinations but I have the most delightful (and some not so delightful) dreams to relate.  Just some cute stuff to help brighten my otherwise rather dim days wrapped in what is often unbearable pain.

So, dream number One:  The Chicken Ghost Whisperer.

Mrs. Alvin’s only son, Dean, has just died in a horrific tractor accident.  There’s some question as to whether it was truly an accident or if the newly found deposits of GOLD under the Alvin family farm may have had something to do with this tragedy.  Surely a case for Scooby Doo? 

A day or so later I’m feeding and watering my chickens.  As always, I talk to them and they murmur their various woes and worries of the day (chickens are very burdened by the pressures of everyday life).  The queen of my flock is a brightly plumed Easter Egg chicken named Lillianne and she is particularly upset this day.  She seems reluctant to impart any information about the cause for her distress and it finally comes to light that she thinks I’m going to think she’s crazy if she tells me the truth.  Reminding her that we are communicating at all is enough to be considered crazy opens the spout and she relates the whole story.  It seems that young Dean Alvin has paid her a visit.  He is melancholy about his precipitous demise and wants to talk to his mother just one more time.  

Why surely this can only be a mission of mercy for this poor family?  We must depart forthwith to bring this grieving mother some closure and send this sad, young man onto his heavenly reward.  We jump into the old farm truck.  I assume Dean is in the back seat as Lillianne is going on about her bout of egg bound and I’ve already heard this story.

When we arrive at Mrs. Dean’s house we quickly find that the woman does not share the rapture with which most people greet the idea of having a chicken in the house so we reserve our conversation to the patio table.  Mrs. Dean is less than accepting of our tale at first as we begin to see little clues like a meat cleaver and stew pot but finally Dean relays through Lillianne, who relays through me that Dean was once caught by his mother in a compromising position involving a magazine called Cupcake Lovers and an actual cupcake.  The mother is stricken that she’s given us such a hard time and hands back the feathers she’s already plucked from Lillianne.  Dean goes on to say through his relay system that if they search the accident scene they will find buried under the detritus that same magazine and the remains of another cupcake.  Yet again, a young life wasted by an inappropriate desire for dessert.

Dean’s now unburdened soul begins to ascend and his mother, who suddenly realizes that life without Dean will be somewhat simpler sheds a final tear.  I look over to find that Lillianne is also moved by the help she has given these humans and that in turn, makes me shed a tear.  Chickens are after all, very burdened creatures.  It’s nice to appreciate their talents once in awhile.

I had a dream last night

I dreamed last night that I found myself at the edge of an open field of gently blowing grasses. I don’t know how I got there. Was I handed down from an elegant coach and four by a footman or maybe deposited unceremoniously by a dark ferryman who rowed my across a still, black stream? I don’t know. I sense sorrow behind me but I’m eager to step into the meadow and I know that those who call my name will join me soon.

The field is circled by a thick forest of trees and the smell of the heavy fruit is sensual. I can discern the light touch of pears on the breeze from the cloyingly sweet peaches and figs and the scent of apples overwhelm me.

I do not look behind me but bound into the grass with a lightness of foot that I’ve not known for sometimes. I can feel the blood singing in my veins and my muscles flexing with vigor and I move forward quickly.

Now I see a small cabin and is that a lake ahead? Yes, the smell of fish and water greet me and now the scene is suddenly familiar but before I can go any further I hear a snort off to one side. The big bay mare with the dish face and quiet eyes stands next to the round little gray spotted pony. The come to me eagerly knowing I have treats and hugs for them. They’re my old friends from my youth and sure enough, there are apples in my pockets just for them. Suddenly an excited bark and there’s Ollie dog jumping above the grass. I hear other dogs as well but cannot see them yet. I run to Ollie and she jumps into my arms. Is anything as welcome as a kiss from a favorite dog? There’s a biscuit in my pocket just for my beloved girl and she performs trick after trick for that little treat.

I know now where I am and who waits for me at the cabin so we all run toward the little lake. There are steps leading up to the side of the small, old log cabin and a roughly hewn porch is perfect for propping up tired feet at the end of a day. I see a couple of rockers on that cozy porch with a table that bears a dewy pitcher of lemonade made with sliced lemons and ice. Two glasses are ready for the beverage and I know it will taste just as I remembered from long ago. I look into a window and see a warm, inviting kitchen. The inside of the house looks very small but somehow I know that the cabin is big enough for everyone I’ve ever loved. I sit down in one of the rockers and cast my line with the conveniently placed fishing pole. I’ll sit here a little bit and wait for her before I pour the lemonade.

Getting Ready

Just for you Dani-this one’s in Comic Sans.

So the preparations have begun for me to be gone for my surgery.  I’ve cooked a couple of turkeys and some extra stuffing to put in the freezer for meals.  Today I went to the store and stocked up on JUNK food to feed my children while I’m indisposed.  I was actually embarrassed to check out with a whole cart full of TV dinners, cardboard pizzas, and Hamburger Helper.  I felt compelled to tell the checker that it was all for my husband to feed the kids while I was in the hospital.  Of course I got immediate sympathy for my plight and promises to pray for the poor Mommy of eight who will be in the hospital for Christmas. 

I think next week I’ll bake up a few cookies and candies for Christmas.  I’ve got to be cooking to put stuff in the freezer anyway so I may as well bake too.  Baking always makes me feel creative in ways that a big stockpot of spaghetti sauce just can’t.  We’re prepping for me to be out of commission for three weeks and hoping that it’ll only be two but I’ll actually have enough put away that should last everyone for four weeks with liberal use of eggs and sandwiches for supper.

I’m going to do a special little ritual this week to give me strength and help with my healing.  I need to send out a little ripple of energy to calm my nerves as I find myself getting very jumpy and snappy.  Greg as always, is my rock and makes me smile even when I want to wallow in this ……whatever it is.

Scarlett made me smile this morning.  I watched her pick on both the mares trying to get them to play.  She was jumping on them and running around in circles nipping at them.  Finally Fiona took off at an easy canter.  Scarlett, overjoyed at this response slipped into a simply elegant lope punctuated by delirious jumps and bucks.  Even with Fiona’s longer stride Scarlett could run circles around her and then Dixie got into the act with a full out gallop and twisting bucks that would have made a rodeo horse proud.  Such beauty I live with everyday.

The first surgery blog

Let's just start at the beginning shall we? Back in 1993 I had the old stomach stapling procedure for weight loss. As we know now, many years later that surgery had some big problems and as time goes by my stomach and entire digestive system has really gone to hell so I consulted a couple of doctors who said the only real solution was to revise the original surgery with the newer one.
So, here we are scheduled for surgery on December 21st. Since it's a revision and I have some pretty dramatic issues to resolve inside the surgery is going to be a little tricky and my recovery may be lengthy. They're not sure if I'll be home by Christmas or not so we're having our little Yule celebration on the 20th.
I find myself a little depressed over the whole thing. I'm worried about the many complications as it's unlikely that I won't experience at least one. I'm worried about the pain afterwards as I hate taking pain medication. I worry about the aftermath when I lose weight and start carrying around little flaps of skin and my wrinkles become more evident. I worry about paragraphs where every sentence begins with "I".
So, as this thing progresses I will try to update my progress through the surgery, the weight loss and how it applies to my little farm world.

The "It Needs A Rest" Theory

I am a long time subscriber to the theory that everything and everyone needs a rest at some time or another. This is logical to me. We all tucker out and take a nap or sleep at night. Animals take cat naps regardless of their particular species. Even the Earth rests during the winter or drought. So I know that mechanical objects, being made by man who sometimes tires from materials of the Earth which sometimes hibernates, must also need to take a wee break on occasion.
This theory has seen me through countless mechanical failures. Long ago my car was having some trouble shifting. Ever mindful of the theory I added some transmission fluid, in case she needed a drink of something pink and let her rest over the weekend-forgoing my usual date. Sure enough, on Monday morning there was no trouble at all and the car worked perfectly. Later, the entire rear end of the car actually fell off the car on the busiest street in Cedar Rapids but I'm sure the two incidents are not related.
Any time I'm using a mixer to mix up an octuple batch of cookie dough, if the mixer starts to falter (and it always does) I adhere to the theory and give it a rest. I mix the dough with my hands until they too need a rest and then I decide that the mixer has rested long enough. I do tend to go through a mixer every year but again, I'm sure that has nothing whatsoever to do with me, it's the mixer manufacturers making everything shoddily so that we have to buy again and again, right?
Even relationships sometimes just need a little rest but since my husband is an avid reader of this blog we'll just leave that statement to stand on it's own.
Last week, my beloved floor cleaner decided that it's starter needed a rest. I love my floor cleaner because now each and every swipe across the floor is made with clean, fresh water which is promptly sucked away with the dirt left by my messy spawn. So last week I had to clean the floor while holding the started and the water release at the same time. I'm sure I came down with carpal tunnel syndrome and my hands needed a rest but with the holidays upon us the floor had to get done. So I gave the floor cleaner a much deserved and much needed break. I haven't cleaned my floor in almost two weeks while the machine snored away in the closet. This morning my feet stuck to the floor and pulled my sock off so I decided break time was over even if I had to hold the switch the whole time. But NO, the rest was all my wonderful floor cleaner needed and the switch works perfectly again.
And so you see, the "It Needs A Rest" theory is not just a way to get an extra nap in once a week or so, it's a lifestyle. Whenever you see something not working, give it a break and come back to it later. This is Lor, with the life lesson of the day, signing off.

End of the year wrap-up

Okay, it's not the end of the year but as I'm still riding the high of thanking the Earth Goddess for the wonderful harvest this year and I'm starting to plan next year's garden I thought I'd do a little recap of the year's garden winners.
First, I should say that we've finally got the soil conditions almost correct for the tomatoes we grow. Before planting we tilled the soil and seeded each hole with bone meal and epsom salts. The additional calcium from the bone meal and sulfur and magnesium from the epsom salts made a HUGE difference in the amount of blossom end rot we experienced and may have contributed to the amazing size and volume of tomatoes we harvested.
Without a doubt, this was the year of the Roma tomato. I purchased real heirloom Roma tomato seeds from Tomatofest and we harvested them into October. While they are a small tomato and not generally known as being particularly tasty these were very rich with an old-fashioned tomato taste. These meaty tomatoes probably made the best tomato sauce it's ever been my privilege to make and the plants just kept setting fruit and setting fruit until you almost couldn't see the foliage through all the little oblong red tomatoes.
An unexpected huge hit was the Thessaloniki Oxheart. Another seed buy from Tomatofest, I loved these tomatoes because of their big size and thick walls of meat. The taste is milder and they weren't the production factories that the Roma plants were but pound for pound they probably out produced the Romas.
Once again, my beloved Mom's Paste did not let me down. Each plant set hundreds of giant, udder-shaped, excellent tasting pastes that gave each batch of tomato sauce a slightly sweet, fresh tomato taste. If I could only choose one paste tomato this one would the one.
Now for the regular slicing tomatoes my requirements are a little different though they still generally end up going into my sauces. I want taste that makes me moan with pleasure with no mealy or mushy texture. Seeds and skin can't be bitter or tough and if they're pretty it's a huge bonus.
My Kellogg's Breakfast tomatoes are always a favorite. I love those two pound orange tomatoes with their sweet, distinctly tomato flavor. We didn't get a huge amount of them this year but Kellogg's seems to prefer a warmer growing season and we had a cool year this year.
Caspian Pinks and Serbians are wonders of the world to me. These European tomatoes still remember the salty sea and robust soil that originally bred them and the taste reflects that. There's a salty tang to the rich, almost heavy taste of tomato in each bite that makes them the perfect compliment to any sandwich.
The Stupice tomatoes, small and perfectly round were fantastic. We enjoyed very heavy production from these milder but tasty tomatoes that were made for salads.
Another surprise hit for me was the Costuluto Genovese. Another VERY flavorful, rich tomato, these were big tomatoes that begged to be roasted, grilled or stir fried because they had enough flavor to go it alone.
An honorable mention should go to my Mr Stripey and Paul Robeson tomatoes. As much as I adore the smokey, meaty flavor of those tomatoes they simply didn't produce as many tomatoes this year as I'd like. It may have been the weather that didn't agree with them so they'll be in the garden next year anyway and I'll be trying a few more blacks just in case.
I continue in my never-ending quest to grow melons. Every year I say "next year will be better." Next year will be better.

Samhain and more

October 30th was national candy corn day and I missed it!!?? How can that be? My favorite Halloween candy and I didn't pay homage to it in an appropriate manner (which of course would have meant glutting myself on a two pound bag). Oh well, there's always next year.....or the after Halloween sales....hmmmmm.....
My Bourbon turkey hen Jefferson came to find me today. Yes, she loves me. I saw a little face looking in the window and thought it was the cat but there was something strange about this face.....almost looked like a BEAK on that little face. There was my baby Jefferson checking to see if I could come out and play. I ignored her in favor of my nacho lunch and diet pepsi only to see her fly up to the porch railing so she could stare at me mournfully through the big picture window. Then she started hen calling and I just had to smile and go help her out. I got some turkey and chicken treats together and went out to feed everyone. Jefferson jumped into my arms and I put her back in her house after a little cuddle. Who says turkeys are stupid?
We had a pretty good Halloween. Greg took the kids into Castle Rock while I stayed home with a headache, a bowl of popcorn and a bunch of "b" horror movies. I did a little ritual thanking the goddess and asking grandma a few questions and then the kids were home with about 20 pounds of candy. They had a blast. Several people tried to scare them and that was almost as much fun as seeing the wondrous variety and sheer quantity of candy.
And now we move to one of my favorite holidays-Thanksgiving. I so love the planning and cooking and feeding family that traditionally goes with this day. I wish we could ship in a few more family members but I'll make do with whatever people I can get here. My cooking will start the weekend before Thanksgiving. I plan to put some cookies and sausage biscuits in the freezer for Adam to take home with him. I'll make some caramel corn in a couple of batches so Adam can have his without peanuts. The turkey will have to start thawing so that I can brine it for a day or two before we cook it. I'm so glad I'm feeling better so I can truly enjoy all the culinary joy.
Good and bad news: The girls pulled up the tomato cages for us but then they left the greenhouse door open. A few days later "Mommy's deer" got into the greenhouse and the boys saw them and decided they go see them so the deer tore down my plastic greenhouse walls in several places. That plastic is expensive and visions of trying to grow my wondrous tomatoes without the greenhouse flashed through my head. Now Greg thinks we may finish putting the remaining hoops up and enlarge the greenhouse since we'll have to buy new plastic anyway. Woot! Even MORE tomatoes! Can I stand this much joy? Better try to keep my excitement down because with our luck we still might not be able to afford it. We'll see but I'll be hoping.
I think we're over the worst of the flu finally. Greg is off oxygen, my headaches are getting less bothersome and the endless coughing seems to be diminishing. I actually got a little work done today around the house and went for a walk outside. Life is good.

The Fall (appropriate on many levels)

First of all, I've had some questions about the "GREAT VANILLA EXPERIMENT" from my first blog...or second, I don't remember. The vanilla has been a resounding success. The first batch was started with Grey Goose Vodka and some very fine Madagascar vanilla beans, so the very best ingredients. The second batch was brewed with Smirnoff and some Mexican beans. I admit that the first is better BUT I know that the ingredients are better AND the first batch has brewed a good six weeks longer than the first. So today, with the first batch getting close to the halfway point, I added some vanilla from the second batch to fill up the bottle and and added new vodka to the second bottle. I think I'll continue to do it this way, using the second bottle as the brewing batch and the first bottle as the bottle to use. I think the Madagascar beans will finish the brew off nicely while it waits in the dark cabinet to be used in some secret concoction.
We've been fighting off some evil flu monster here. H1N1? No clue, don't care. The kids go for flu shots this Friday since Annie's diabetes and DJ's asthma put them at much higher risk. Greg's battling bronchitis and a painful back. I hate to see him out working on farm stuff in that condition but he's so hopeful that he can get the whole project done by the time snow flies....again.
I'm so busy nesting and getting ready for my surgery that I'm not actually getting anything done. I sit and worry about how to take care of everyone while I recuperate and what things I need to get to make life easier on Greg while I'm gone.
The tomato canning season is officially over. The plants have all been pulled up and the jars are all put away and my thoughts turn to next year's garden. I've already got the seeds I need and the plans whirl through my head for better, easier ways to harvest melons and zucchini while still maintaining my wondrous tomato yields.
I sold the extra turkeys. It was a tough decision but Byron just didn't fit my dreams for the perfect breeding Tom for my Midget White flock and Drummer turned out to be a Tom so my dreams of keeping Byron to breed to Drummer for meat turkeys evaporated. The lady who bought them plans to breed them though so at least they'll still be pets. She was amazed at how friendly and tame they both were. She actually walked Byron to the car. So the plan now is that we'll put the geese and Rosie and Jefferson and the Buff Orps in one house. The White turks and the Rhode Island Red chickens will go in the second house and my Easter Egger flock will be in the big house where we'll also put overflow baby turks and chicks next spring. Did I mention that I absolutely love those stupid geese? I so hope that I have a breeding trio of some kind. I'd love to sell some baby goslings next spring. Geese are strange because you get them and they're SOOOO cute for about a minute and they start to grow and they're gorky looking, messy and very noisy. When they finally mature, if you haven't gotten tired of them and given them away, they're magnificently protective, still noisy and messy but with such a cool personality that you just can't help but like them. They like to suddenly take off flapping eight foot of wing span and honking to the heavens like they're being chased by a wolverine and then they gather in the corner and giggle together like a bunch of school girls and wander back to the rest of the panicked flock.
The horses are doing very well. The lady who bought the turkeys asked me to please breed Fiona again and she would foot the bill as deposit on the foal. Hmmmm, something to consider I guess. We'll see how the winter goes.
So, I'm off to try a new recipe for red beans and rice. Gotta have it with cornbread of course and I made rice krispie bars so life is good here.

Life's Hard

Has there ever been anyone you would die for? I guess that's an easy question if you have children but long before children, the man I love and the many mishaps with the law that finally convinced me otherwise, I would have laid down my life for my brother. When he was young and it was looking like he would never fulfill the promise of our family six foot average height I used to defend him from bullies by fighting kids twice my size and winning. Obviously, long before the "zero tolerance" days of today. My brother was my other half. When I had the words, he had the illustrations. So it really shouldn't have been a surprise that I took the conventional road and he found some lost path to nowhere to follow. The years passed and I lost track of how many jails and prisons he inhabited. For a brief time we lived together as young adults and I realized that we no longer even spoke the same language most of the time. There were little glimmers of the boy I'd once known and we'd launch into our old comedy routines and laugh and love each other again but now he was hard and mean and dark sometimes and while I used to be able to pull him out of those depths with ease it was now an impossible task. So we parted again, he went to jail and I found love and a new life. It's been over 20 years now and then a call in the night from him and I'm torn again. How can you help someone that only looks and sounds like someone you would have once died for? The call today is even worse. He's homeless and the social worker will give him a bus ticket here or he goes to jail but the only thing in the world he has left is his dog and he cries on the phone that either way he will lose his precious dog. I want to beat up the mean social worker who made my little brother cry. I want to fix this and rescue him and his puppy. Mostly, I want to turn back the clock and find that little boy and hug him one more time because I can't fix this, I can't help and it's far too late for rescue.

No news is...boring

Ah, it's been a crazy ride here at Alberti farm. The girls had their birthday. They chose to celebrate it on a single day as they have since they were babies. I love it that we only have to get one cake though this year they chose a Baskin Robins cake so it cost about as much as two cakes anyway. The only thing Rissa wanted for her birthday was a snake. Is this my child or what? So I sent Greg after a 4 and a half foot long Ball Python. He's just as tame as he could be and Riss walks around with him on her neck or sits with him in her lap. Unfortunately, she also leaves him snuggling in the couch cushions or on the bed or on the floor. The cats, always secure in their superior "top floor pet" position, are now on constant alert for the predator in their formerly safe haven. The little gray cat is afraid of the couch and the big black cat is leery of jumping on my lap if I have a blanket on as he is certain there is a killer under my cover. Poor kitties. Of course we've had our first incident with Satan as the snake was appropriately named. We warned Riss that the snake would bite if he was stressed, cold or hungry and told her not to have him out for too long but sure enough she was playing with him and he bit her when he'd had just about enough. I knew she was afraid to approach him after that so I very matter-of-factly went after him and picked him up speaking endearments and snuggling with him. Riss took him from me and has not been adversely affected by the experience.
I know my dedicated readers love to hear about the happenings on the farm but I've had a wee problem that prevents me from reporting too much about the outside world. I went to the dentist to have a tooth pulled. The x-ray showed the root of the tooth touched but did not enter the sinus cavity and he warned that if he cracked the thin sinus bone I might get a sinus infection. After the tooth had been removed he proclaimed the sinus bone intact and told me I would not need antibiotic as I was in no danger. Yet, a few days later while cooking breakfast, I felt a curtain go down on my hearing. No sudden explosion, no pain, it was just like a theatre curtain going down after last act slowly but surely ending the hearing in my ear. I was surprised but not worried, it had to be that sinus infection the dentist had warned me about and I had an appointment with him the next day so all would be rectified soon enough. Monday morning, dizzy now and completely deaf in one ear, the dentist again confirmed that my sinus was probably not the problem but I may have developed an ear infection on my own so he prescribed some antibiotic "just in case". Five days I faithfully took the antibiotics with no relief from the frightening vertigo or the buzzing silence in my left ear so I determined that I would go see a doctor to see what was wrong. It's funny, you can go several days telling people that you can hear absolutely nothing out of your ear but when the doctor tests your hearing and he tells you that you have 100% hearing loss the reaction is stunned disbelief. Really, no hearing at all? The doctor told me it was not an ear infection but I should go see an ENT immediately as it was an emergency. The very next day I went to see the ENT who also did a hearing test. Call me naive but I'd gathered some hope during the night. You see, the doctor had a little hearing tester gadget that looked like something Billy Mays would hawk on the home shopping channel. "And if you call RIGHT now we'll send TWO of these amazing little hearing tester thingies for the incredibly low, LOW price of $19.99!!!" I just knew that with the audiologist's fancy technological toys they'd find that I had some vestige of hearing left, something that would say my ear wasn't entirely dead. Again my hopes were dashed when the assistant came in astonished as it had been a very long time since she'd tested anyone who was stone deaf. Gee, so glad I could ruin those stats. My doctor is running the playbook and has prescribed steroids (SOP for ENTs with pts who have SSHL) and an MRI but she isn't giving me a lot of hope that I'll hear again just that the vertigo will clear up and maybe that low, buzzing, ocean tide sound will go away. So, I'm not getting outside much. I can walk around inside so long as I move slowly and don't move my head around a lot but when I go outside the world gets so big that my spatial perception goes a little awry and the dizziness is intensified.
But the girls have been harvesting some peppers and zucchini and they tell me that the tomatoes are going to be overwhelming. The little chickens (not so little anymore) are now laying eggs faithfully so we have little green and brown eggs to add to the big white and huge brown eggs from the older chickens. I can see the geese and turkeys and they are amazing. My Rosie tom turkey is magnificent when he puffs up and struts and the geese must surely be a daunting target to any passing predator.
The baby horses are so very big and so very funny when they play. Juno is so awkward looking with her too big head and too long legs but little Scarlett looks perfectly proportioned. Juno is still the tamest one and she longs for human affection and touch. Scarlett has gotten less afraid but she is the wild child of the bunch. I can't help but think these girls have amazing things ahead of them but I guess every proud Mom thinks the same thing.
Well, I've bored you long enough dear reader and it bothers me to have my eyes flying back and forth across the page so I must close now and go find something that I can accomplish.

For Dani

I'm told that my blogs could be more exciting if I included pictures of my many topics of conversation. I dedicate this blog and it's accompanying pictures to Danielle.

I've often spoke of my beautiful Bourbon turkeys. Jefferson was named after the best Bourbon I ever drank and was spoiled rotten when she (yes, SHE) got sick and had to be nursed back to health. She's still my favorite turkey and here is her picture:


Rosie, also named after another fine
Bourbon, is our Tom. He's seen in the next
picture with his little buddy Tattoo, a
White Midget turkey and an anonymous
Buff goose:
All of these birds are about four months old.
Speaking of birds....I have chicken pics too! Woot! The next pics are of my favorite Easter Egger chickens and they're roo. Keep a careful eye out though as there are some Buff Orps and Rhode Island Reds scattered about these pics.














That brings us to the always popular pictures of baby horses. The pics of Scarlett just refuse to come out with any clarity so I can't show the wonderful roaning (is that a word?) that is happening to her coat. She was born a beautiful sorrel blanket appy but when I saw the gray hairs I assumed that she was going to go for a strawberry roan. Now I see the undercoat getting suspiciously dark and I'm beginning to wonder about blue roan with blanket.....Hmmmmm....the genetics behind this horse and her color are mind boggling. Of course the light of my heart is Juno (or Ava if her would-be new owners change her name) so I have a couple of pics of her. You'll note her size in the pic with Rissa. Rissa is not known for being terribly tall but still, this is one big filly at less than three months of age. Her nose is extended in orgasmic ecstasy at having her butt scratched.



















Other news: Those of you who know me, have noticed that I'm usually studying some darn thing or another. There's a cool book about the theory of another civilization that gave rise to the Egyptian culture. The beginning of the book was a little boring. Geological evidence is beyond boring and I was familiar with the suppositions behind the architectural similarities. The climactic changes were interesting but not terribly exciting or conclusive in my mind but now the book reveals more anthropological clues and religious questions that actually make me wonder. We KNOW that neolithic peoples did not have the technology to build the Sphinx but we also once KNEW that the world was flat. Fun stuff. I love this kind of mind stretching exercise.
And so darling daughter, I hope you are happy or at least happier with this post. The pics were a pain in the ass, so I probably won't be doing that again unless it's just one picture to draw the eye or clarify an observation.

Random stuff

Annie tells me that trees are so "cutiful" and then goes on to explain to me that trees are alive and that they can talk to each other about people and if you listen really close they can talk to you too. She told me that when she told the trees how "cutiful" they were they smiled at her. Yep, my six-year old daughter is an ancient druid at heart. I love it that she's so keenly aware of nature everywhere she goes. She reminds me of the connections we all have to the Earth and that helps to keep me grounded.
Today I checked on the tomatoes. It seems that we have a bumper crop of tomatoes in the making. I'm worried that I'll be called into surgery just about the time that I need to be here processing all these beautiful fruits but we'll just have to play it by ear. There's no law that says I can't dictate the date of the surgery just a little bit.
The rest of the garden? (sigh) It's a jungle out there. The daily rainstorms have kept everything so wet that weeding is almost impossible but so necessary. I'll still get some crops out of the garden but it could have been much better....and yet, I guess it could have been much worse. I'll be happy with whatever we get.
A woman wrote to me asking about Scarlett. I'd gotten to the point where I almost forgot she was for sale. When we got the offer for Juno I accepted that she was no longer my horse and started to distance myself even though it's difficult to distance yourself from a horse that wants to be petted all the time. Scarlett, with no offer and no interest, became my focus. Her movements, her change of color, her personality are all very special now so this possible interest in purchasing her saddens me. I'm sure it's for the best but I'd even entertained thoughts of keeping her for a year or so and working with her but I know she's destined for things far beyond what I have to offer.
No new problems with the kids. DJ is on a higher dose of ADHD meds and it seems to make him a little morose. I'm hoping this is a temporary side effect and that it will diminish over time. Seems like he did this when we first switched to this drug and the reverted to his normal happy-go-lucky self eventually.
Annie had her mysterious seizure and subsequent hyper-sensitivity to insulin and is now back to "normal". I believe she'll be fine but I get nervous whenever she's out of sight. My fear that she'll have a seizure while she's riding a bike or doing some activity that will hurt her seems to always be in the back of my mind.
I had a nice little getaway on Saturday. Just picked up DJ's meds and did a little shopping at the much hated Wal-Mart for some cereal and kids' underwear. It was pleasant to get out of the house and have my thoughts to myself for a while and everyone was happy to see my purchases when I returned. I was nearly killed on the way home though. I was following behind a man who was pulling a trailer filled with loose dirt. Suddenly, the trailer was at a 90 degree angle to the truck it was supposed to be following and nearly wiped out an oncoming car. Then it was 90 degrees on the other side and perilously close to the ditch. The trailer kept swiping back and forth like an angry snake or something and the dirt was flying everywhere so I pulled off the road and waited to see what happened next. I guess the guy finally figured out that if he was going to regain control he needed to slow down a little so he got the trailer straightened and resumed his journey with half of his load scattered the four winds....and all over the front of my car of course.
Well, I've played with tomatoes, played with the baby horses and played on the computer. It's time to do some of those Mommy chores I guess.

Lazy, crazy days of summer

Here we are-July. We've had a few rather warm days but for the most part it's been nice out here on the farm so far this season. Gotta love the evening showers that cool everything off so nicely for sleeping too.
We've had a couple of strange weeks here. First, Annie had a seizure that was probably one of the most frightening things I've been through in my 51 years. The boys said she was choking and had fallen so that got the ol' adrenaline running. I'm terrified of choking even though I know that I'm proficient at the Heimlich maneuver. When I saw her I knew it was a seizure so for me at least the fear factor went down several notches but I still thought I was dealing with a fall induced seizure. And why, when we studied about seizures in nursing school, did no one tell us that it takes hours to return to normal after a seizure? THAT was the scariest part for me. Watching her tic and drool in my arms and wondering if she'd fallen hard enough to cause permanent damage was one of the Mom moments I don't want to relive.
Then DJ coming into our room crying and declaring that he didn't want to die because he couldn't breathe. Another trip to the hospital which I thought was going to be one of those deals where the doctors pat you on the back and think you're one of "those" mothers who over-react to every little thing turned out to be a two day stay of worrying about why he wasn't responding to treatment. Some well-meaning doctor explained to me that this is how people die from asthma. The bronchi get so inflamed and swollen that not only will they not allow oxygen to come in but the medicine that will relieve the swelling can't get in either. Gee, thanks doc.
Now Grandma always said these things (meaning everything) comes in threes so I'm sort of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Perhaps the "third thing" will be my own surgery but in the meantime I'm being vigilant mom. Maybe the "third thing" was Target dog's surgery? Hmmmmmm, have to ask Gram about that......
As for the farm, the daily rainfall has been a blessing to my dry pasture and the horses are all fat and happy on the grass they graze daily. I've never seen so much green for so long in all the years I've lived in Colorado and I love it. I could like Colorado if we got this much rain all the time. On the other hand the mud has made it nearly impossible to get out into the garden and weed and those weeds are loving this rain too. Greg did a wonderful job of cleaning out the weeds in my tomato house but the garden itself is an almost impenetrable jungle. But my beloved tomatoes are flowering and setting fruit and are as happy as they can be.
The baby horses are growing and have become playful and entertaining. Little Scarlett is displaying her small amount of Friesian heritage with some fancy footwork even while she's racing around like the cow horse she resembles so strongly. Juno/Ava has a double personality in that she's so big and strong yet moves delicately like some lithe ballerina. She is by far the most beautiful filly I've ever seen and her slow canter is breathtaking.
I have been hatching turkeys this weekend. At this moment it looks like we've gotten four out of the 22 eggs that we set. One little blue Slate was hatched under a broody hen, two are undetermined as yet-they're dark with yellow masks so I don't know if that means they're Bronzes or Spanish blacks and we have one white Holland. Anyway, we have quite the motley crew of turks now with a breeding pair of Bourbons, one Midget, one Bronze/Slate mix, and these new four. I'll have to find at least a couple more Midgets and hopefully a Holland or two before I can really settle down to do some breeding.
And that's my life for the time being. I'm off to start some watering in the tomato house and may get captured by wildlife living in my garden so I wanted to put down my thoughts one last time before I disappear into the wilderness.

Stolen from another blog

Just in case you are having a rough day, here is a stress management technique recommended in all the latest psychological journals.
The funny thing is that it really does work and will make you smile.

1. Picture yourself lying on your belly on a warm rock that hangs out over a crystal clear stream.

2. Picture yourself with both your hands dangling in the cool running water.

3. Birds are sweetly singing in the cool mountain air.

4. No one knows your secret place.

5. You are in total seclusion from that hectic place called the world.

6. The soothing sound of a gentle waterfall fills the air with a cascade of serenity.

7. The water is so crystal clear that you can easily make out the face of the person you are holding underwater.