The Old Folks Home

[Highcotton]

...

I would love to see those daffies

In Carlsbad SoCal we have the Ranunculus.

There is a 40 acre field on the side of a slope that is simply spectacular.

http://www.theflowerfields.com/

not my photos

Those fields of flowers are beautiful. They look like a work of art. Are they commercial fields for cut flowers?

 

[Highcotton]

Well, Jason, it was my first visit and my "navigator" hadn't been in ten tears. I googled the directions there but depended upon her for the way home.

It was a beautiful day. Just perfect for getting lost.... We drove past Daffodil Hill AGAIN after having lunch in the bar at the St. George's Hotel in Volcano, which we kinda found by mistake. And then I think we might have been on our way to the headwaters of Sutter Creek about six times. Ended up making a huge figure-eight loop before we found Fiddletown Road again. But it was a section we had not traveled on our way up there. "Does this look familiar to you?"

"Yah, that double- sided concrete horse trough does...."
"Umm, Linda, that's not the only double sided concrete horse trough out here... It looks familiar because lots of places have them."

Apparently ALL roads go through Fiddletown, even at least one in El Dorado County. (Daffodil Hill is in Amador County, for those who don't know it.)

We laughed all day long.

Oh, and Daffodil Hill keeps a few bantam chickens in a coop on the property as well as several free ranging peafowl. The former were in shadow and the latter were ducking in and out of perimeter forest so I don't have any photos of them - but I tried!

Somehow I think your navigation problems had something to do with that good El Dorado county wine.

 

[ozexpat]

Quote: commercial fields for bulb propagation

 

[ChickenCanoe]

Pets fill a home with love...fill a person with a reason to hurry on home to put another log in the stove for the puppers...dogs SO desire our companionship (well sure they want something outta the relationship but we ALL gotta EAT and keep the home fires burning, eh?).

​

CAVE DOGS - Fixs and Foamy in one of the "igloos" strategically placed around...for warm paw waiting when I am doing chores.​

AGH...you know, it sounds SO delish...not just "a river runs thru it" but three streams, springs, with a big ol' PONDaloosa ...Icrumba!

​

One thing about NOT buying a historic farm stead...sometimes the placement of things can be not where you want them. If you have to do any renos or upgrades...we have mostly found that building from scratch is faster and more economical. We tore the badly designed woodshed down last spring, salvaged what we were able and that in itself took up a fair amount of energy and TIME...resources used up before we could even BEGIN the new building... Sometimes bare land is a bargain...sometimes land with amenities you are not overly attached to is better than inheriting the responsibility to "keep the quaintness and historic relevance" alive. The few run down buildings we had when we bought, we refurbished right away. Laugh, the garage had half a new roof on it...the side you could see--the off side had shingles so curled, bats could fly thru...the pump house was painted on the three sides you could view from the house, and three year's of Xmas trees were tossed into the remnants of an ancient garden plot--I also found the three poor living tree stumps that were harvested.... After we got the outbuildings sorted out, the new ones we built were a lot more fun, wide open to ideas of what WE wanted them to be. We flooded in 2005 (Father's Day flood of the century!), three feet of water perculated UP outta the ground after a snowy winter, rainy spring, and a succession of five days of six inches of rain each day. Every single building was higher than the flood waters...made us feel really good about our sense of planning...reality was we simply had crap house luck and something was looking out for our wellbeings!

All I figure sometimes is that things line up for a reason; good/ bad, we can't predict the future. You coulda taken on the fam farm, done the big commute (know lots here that think nothing of living in Edmonton and driving to Calgary for a movie in the evening...distance of 280 K or 174 miles) and over the YEARS gotten so fatigued you crashed when you shoulda zagged. Ended up permanently injured so you could not keep the place or simply just dead. Just never know but I do feel twinge of "what if" because there is "no place like home...."

.... Rick always says, "happiness is right behind your eyes!"

I saw the Cosmos episode last night with Neil deGrasse Tyson. He talked about how dogs and people originally adopted each other as companions.

The original house on that farm was a two story log cabin that was completely shot. Standing on any side you could see sky on the other side on about 30% of the building. It was probably beyond restoration 30 years earlier. We ended up having a huge bonfire. We had to sit about 100 yards away and it still singed your face.
The site was good though, top of the hill, so we built another adjacent to the site.

I had a friend that worked every hour he could get. He was always the highest in overtime hours of any skilled tradesman. He was from a very poor beginning in LA.
When he got to St. Louis, he bought a house in a very wealthy suburb about an hour from work. I lived in a nice neighborhood about 15 minutes from work. He always told me "you gotta get yo family outa da ghetto". It isn't the ghetto but not wealthy. He ended up falling asleep on the way home from work, crashed and died.

Just a few years after the farm was sold, we found an ideal little 20 acre farm on the Meramec river. It included about 8 acres of bottomland field and a 3 acre island in the river just off shore. Most of the rest of the property was hilly in mature timber It had a small house built from timber cut from the property. It sat on a spring with the cellar used as a springhouse. A waterfall flowed from the cellar into a stream and then into the river. There was enough flat clear ground at the top of the hill for a garden. The price was manageable.
However, with no traffic, it was still about an hour and 15 minutes from work. I just couldn't imaging a life of sleep, drive, work, drive, sleep and start over again.

Great expression from Rick about where to find happiness.

Yesterday, a friend and I went to opening day at Daffodil Hill, just outside of Volcano (California).

Daffodil leaves are just now breaking the soil surface here.
Normal years, crocus would have been finished blooming by now. Haven't seen any yet.

I love this.

 

[Arielle]

Cheery ribbons of color!!

CC-- it is a balncing act that doesn't always balance out . . . hope he had life insurnce.

It is College that weighs on my mind-- I know most of you are on the otherside of that --- WGBH is doing a series on paying for college. $230-$300,000 buys a house. College is moving out of reach for more and more worthy students . . . .We have been looking at the vo-tech school instead of regular public high school so my kids can have a job to pay for college, but when I talked to one of the students (who works for his parents or his grandfather now) he could not get a job in his field because he needs to intern for many years with a skilled electrician. Not many of those jobs around-- the teacher at school hired the son of a friend . . . .

I'm praying that our land can furnish more money and more food for us . . .

 

[Dragonfly216]

I just love my animals! Dogs are probably my favorite,I don't have one right now. We're actually talking about getting the Australian Shepherd since they are so good protecting animals and we want to have lots eventually. My very favorite breed is the lab, but being bird dogs, that's not gonna work so well with my chickens! I have a sweet kitten right now, who surprisingly enough was kinda freaked out by all my chirping, running around chicks!

I LOVE that photo of the colorful lines of flowers! How cool! The daffodils have been up about two weeks and I saw a crocus coming up Saturday! The peach trees are blooming too.

On a completely different note, I had my first case of pasty butt this morning! I think I did well, didn't panic, got a warm wet wash cloth and had to end up soaking the poor screaming butt. She/ he did good though and is sleeping with everyone now.

 

[Highcotton]

...

I just love my animals! Dogs are probably my favorite,I don't have one right now. We're actually talking about getting the Australian Shepherd since they are so good protecting animals and we want to have lots eventually. My very favorite breed is the lab, but being bird dogs, that's not gonna work so well with my chickens! I have a sweet kitten right now, who surprisingly enough was kinda freaked out by all my chirping, running around chicks!

My Lab does fine with the chickens. He gets really excited when the Mallards would fly. It took a little training to get him to quit trying to catch them in the air. The Lab is buddies with a Cornish Rooster and sleeps next to his pen. The chickens are in the yard with him. They have been together for almost a year.

 

[Wisher1000]

On a completely different note, I had my first case of pasty butt this morning! I think I did well, didn't panic, got a warm wet wash cloth and had to end up soaking the poor screaming butt. She/ he did good though and is sleeping with everyone now.

Pasty butt is no big deal as long as you catch it early, which you did. The cause was probably a combination of the move, new food, and stress from being handled more than they are used to. All of these will work themselves out with time. Don't make adjustments. The move is over, they will adjust to the new food and being handled (keep that up, just don't let them get chilled.)

Not enough heat can cause pasty butt, as well. Make sure that you don't lift your brooder lamp too far too soon. Remember, just raise it an inch or two when they line up in a circle outside the edge of the lamp cover. If it gets colder in the room they are in, you might need to move it back down a little. A thermometer may help you until you learn to read the chicks, although I never use one. They should have a spot where the temp is at 95 so they can get warm there if needed. They should also have areas that are cooler so that they start feathering out as soon as possible. If you heat the whole area, they get their feathers much more slowly.

 

[CanuckBock]

Heel low:

Happy GREEN DAY to all at the Home (away from home!).

This is my outfit for today...




No, not Irish but the day has significant meaning to our fam. Day we got to bring dear Stoggar home. I'll post her story but first some amusements about her name Stoggar. Rick names the dogs...he comes up with some interesting ones...


Rick, back in the day, worked at an open pit copper mine. He is a grader operator but he got terribly BORED at the pit, going back and forth rolling rocks...got WAY too tedious & boring. So he got a transfer to run the Hiab truck on the pit dewatering crew...pumps, pipes, work yard, a crew that took care of removing the water...the never ending deluge of water on the WEsT Coast.

Back then, blue collar workers sometimes had the craziests of bosses...might still have a few lonely souls like that even now but back when, in the early days, crazy got the job done and there were way more crazies sometimes out in the wilds, getting things completed. Safety protocols...HA!

His boss was Wilson. Wilson was plumb crazy, psycho. How can I say this, well here's a few examples.

Fellows reported to him that one of the not often used gates, had a nest of wasps residing in the lock housing. Was nasty and a big enough nest, none of them wanted to get near it. Wilson says to them, "No problemo. I'll take care of that tonight!" And sure enough he did. Him and another fellow, who told the story to Rick (who I am thrilled to say never was there but home having dinner where it's safer!), went out that evening, waited till dark when all the wasps would be in the nest. Think they would use killer bug spray...no WAY! Why do that when you can use a stick of dynamite...got lots of that at the copper mine, eh?

So Wilson gives a stick to the fellow with him and says, "Here's the light, you go as near you can to the gate and toss it under the lock...then run back here where I am." So the guy does as he is told and sure enough...BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No wasps but it blew the gate panels right off the hinges on the posts. Way way up in the air and it landed hard...mangled all to heck. Wilson did not care, had a welding fabrication shop at the mine...boys there could fix this one or even make a new gate for all he cared. Now the pit dewatering crew could go thru the gates; no wasps, so no excuses on why any more needed to be done jobs would be delayed.


Wilson drank heavily and smoked continuously (always a smoke in the face), cussed and such. Dedicated man's man as they use to say. In his first days at the mine, he earned his hardcore reputation early. He was in a big loader excavating blasted ore for processing and the side of the bank fell in on him. Came crashing down and took out the front window in the loader. Pretty near covered the loader completely and he was durn lucky not to be buried alive. The rest of the watch came scurrying in to rescue him...sure enough, there he sat pinned, crumpled unlit cigarette wedged in the corner of his lips. First guy to get inside the cab asks him, "You OK Wilson?" Wilson replies, "Got a light?"


So Wilson had a language all his own...he'd get frustrated with the men and yell at the top of his lungs "STOGGAR!" Stoggar to him was a name you labelled a useless no good at nothing slave, so a noun. He also use to use it as a verb...."Go stoggar this pipe away in the work yard....Stoggar this pump...Stoggar this, that, and the other #$%& things!"


Lots of stealing back in the day. Never laughed so hard though. Wilson painted his house blue, navy blue. Always wondered why he chose that colour and he would complain to Rick that they don't make paint like they use to. This "house" paint he used was sticky, never set up. Well we finally got the full story some years later. A paint contractor for the mine stored a lot of his paint at the mine site and lots would go missing...someone was stealing it. So Gunnar decided to "fix them" and put linseed oil in one batch of the paint. A batch of navy blue paint meant to paint...wait for it...the garbage cans at the mine site...


Anyway, enough "blue" collar workaday stories, Stoggar got her name because Rick and I felt we could never ever be expected to see any serious work outta her. Any kind of pressure, powder keg situation and she mentally could not handle it. She would get flustered, start to panic, go into blubber mode. So she got to flit about like a grey mottled butterfly, never asked her to do anything past just be part of the pack...

Thing that I noticed over the years she was with us...she came to us with very downed ears (ACDS have tippy UP ears...pointy ears ^~~^ ) and over time her ears ever so slowly came up...first the right ear and then the left came sorta up...but never completely erect, but move they did. I use to laugh at what looked to me looked like "Flying Nun" ears.

Here's my tribute to Stoggars...my, my ten years young this story...time flies when you are having FUN, eh?

Oh and NO reading this at work...when I wrote it, it was to me, a HAPPY story but I kept getting told it made people cry. How can happy make you cry, but whatever...my warning is NO reading it at work because the last place you need them see you teary eyed and mushy faced is at WORK! You bin told.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stoggar the Dogger
By Tara Lee Higgins - March 17, 2004

Please be forewarned, this one has a tissue warning...

Heel low:

Well it's been four years today. Happy St. Patrick's and happy anniversary Stoogie the Doogie!

Stoggar and her puppies at the Shelter​

It's been four years since you were allowed to come home from the kill shelter; dumped there because you were not "fat," but pregnant with nine lively puppies you brought bravely into this world. Four years of watching you start as a blubbering mass of mottles, scared of your own shadow, savagely scarred around the neck by some unimaginable collar or chain, a huge gash on your thigh has long ago been vetted and healed, but you will never quite sit right because it has permanently harmed you. You dropped like a shot if a person lifted their arm, in greeting or to do chores, that raised voices could mean joyous celebrations, not an impending beating for something you never understood or deserved.

Stoggs smiling that big ol' smile of hers!​

But that has all long since passed and now you lovely dear are a raring good ol' girl who barks for the bally (yeh, you didn't even know what toys were for!), grabs that floppy right out of the air whipping it on past poor HB's snapping jaws; growls and snaps but drops it for Fix, bounding so high in the air when we come home to greet you, exuberantly zesty while herding your sheep, curling up on your dog bed close to the woodstove, chewing your own 4th of the "rawhide" take of the day, running and barking and being part of the pack, belonging and needing and receiving and giving and loving and having it returned because you are what you are and you are just right exactly the way you are.

Happy dog caught napping...<<blink blink>> "What? Can't a dog take a nap...just any ol' place?"​

You still have the nightmares, you whimper and cry in your sleep. But we come and place a steady concerned hand on you...and out of the terror you climb, blinking & squinting at us with your kind eyes...behind is left the trouble and you remember where you live now. Your belly is always full of good food, tho you will never be trustable with snacks on the coffee table. We do not mind, for we know you will never unlearn how to fend for yourself...how to crawl under house steps and find heat near where people live. How to roust in a garbage bag for any scraps that are edible...how to judge the pace of someone's walk, the tone in their voice, and that glint in their eye...you have seen pure hatred; uncalled for and unwarranted. That you are always the last to come in the house, not because you are not welcome, encouraged or that you do not have a spot, but because you will never completely believe that this is your place and that YOU live here and that the mat at the door reads also for you too.

Some of the many ACD mutts...Stogs, HyBlade, Fixins and Foamy.​

You will never be the whole and complete dog that you could and should have been allowed to become. There will always be times you snap back and regress, but each time it is easier for you to come back from where you were. You know we will not ask more of you than what you can handle...that we will wait and if you are never ready for some things, it does not matter.

Silly Stoogey...stationery but ready and roaring to GO..."Just say the word! I "think" I might be on it!"
​

That only four months ago, while you instantly came when called, you never once ever came by your own free will to my spouse, even tho he is kind and careful to be gentle around you...but now he finds you sitting at his feet, peering up into his eyes, saying, "Pet me, I am no longer afraid because you are a man! I now know not all men will beat me, raise a hand to hurt me or shout at me so that I am fearful. Please pet me, I know you mean me no harm."

Stoggar, Makins and HyBlade - out on the town checking out how the TOWN dogs live.​

Stoggar still does not completely relax when sitting in my lap...she paws at me, like she is testing me to see if this is real. "Can I feel the vision I am seeing...am I allowed here, is this what being part of a family is?" She never takes for granted what her life has brought her...I sometimes wonder if she knows she never has to go back to a shelter, that when it is her time to go, there will be people there who love and cherish her...that we will hold on to her dearly and not want her to leave us. That in her world of being, pedigrees and blue blood and standards don't matter or count. That her being here has meant something, that we are not complete without her...that she as one individual matters and has made all the world of difference.

Stogs in the middle of the ACTION pack of trailer trash...with her "Flying Nun" ears waving in the winds!

​

You are my pouncing pepperpot in my Australian Cattle Dog flavours...salty dog HyBlade, spicy Fixins and sugary Makins; where would any of us be without your presence my dearest Stoggar the Dogger. Thank you for sharing four years of your life with us, we have reaped way more than we have sown.

Doggone love yah my Stooges...we love you--forever and ever and ever...

Tara Lee Higgins & the Australian Cattle Dog Rat Ranch Crew

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Miss yah Stoggar; March 17, 2000 - September 18, 2013. Rest in peace pouncy girl...under the three poplar kings up on our hill.


So that be that.

May the gloriously GREEN luck of the Irish bless you today as it has blessed my family.

No drinking any GREEN beverages either...no green rootBEERS...tis Monday...regular work day at the beginning of a looong work WEEK.
Behave...like the good OLD folk we are and act our ages.

Doggone & Chicken UP!

Tara Lee Higgins
Higgins Rat Ranch Conservation Farm, Alberta, Canada

 

[ChickenCanoe]

I'm mostly Irish. A mutt of Irish, German, French and English.

This is just so wrong in so many ways, but since someone took the picture, I thought I'd share.




This one is better.