Llama Trekking at Moose River Farm

Llama Trekking at Moose River Farm
Activities at MRF; Fall 2021

Saturday, March 9, 2013

Spring is in the Air...and All Over My Clothes

       Good Evening,
     Forget singing birds, extended daylight hours and warmer outdoor temperatures.  For those of us who spend significant time in a barn there is only one true indication that spring is on its way!  Proof arrives by way of natural forces such as static electricity and blowing wind but, defies others, such as gravity.  It sticks to my clothes and invades my mouth, nostrils and ears.  My hand is of no use to wipe at my nose because it too is covered with the prickly material.  Simply writing about it makes me itch.  
      Believe it or not and despite weeks of anticipating the discomfort, I am thrilled when shedding season arrives.  Once every strand of winter hair is released the animals glisten with good health in the spring sunshine.  I never tire of gazing at their shiny coats.  It is the equine equivalent to watching chlorophyll rejuvenate the complexion of green grass. 
      In my barn shedding is a multi-species task.  The number of individuals from each group is directly related to the amount of fluff, clumps, wisps, hunks, wads and bristles that float in the air or scatter on the floor.  Evidence from the horses’ desperate attempts to scratch the hair off of backs and bellies lies in the imprint left behind where they've rolled in melting snow.
     The goats have a different tactic.  They rub the sides of their bodies against any potential scratching post, including the walls and bars of their stall, stacked hay bales and unsuspecting human legs. If the latter is clothed in fleece or corduroy, all the better. It’s a guarantee that much of the debris will stay behind once the goat walks away.
      Fiona's winter layer of long black bristles will not fully molt until mid-summer.  By then the hairs simply fall out by the handful.  If not swept up carefully these bristles migrate into the laundry and work their way into the fabric of underwear, socks or t-shirts.  The next time the garment is worn, a surprise is waiting to poke tender skin. 
      The baby donkeys arrived in December with their first winter coats fully established.  Those coats conceal so much, like a lottery ticket before the icons are scratched off to reveal the prize.  Presently, their bodies are holding on to the hair for fear that the Adirondacks may have a few more blasts of cold weather before a lasting warm-up takes hold for good.  After twenty-seven winters in upstate New York, I know better too!
Sandi thinks there is nothing like snow to scrape the hair off and exfoliate!
"Ah," says Welby. "That feels so good."
Liam the goat is shedding soft cashmere...everywhere.
Makia drops to roll and have a back scratch.
Can't wait to see what these two look like in their summer coats.
The donkeys and Fiona are still holding onto their winter insulation.
Ultimately, local residents will use discarded winter hair to line their nests.
(left, bear hair and right, horse hair)

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Back in the Saddle

       Good Morning,
       During a typical winter I continue to ride the horses as long as temperatures remain above 15 degrees.  My cozy indoor ring, wool quarter sheets, and layers of fleece make this a pleasant experience that I look forward to everyday.  When the Snow Gods cooperate, I can even ride out on the one mile of groomed trail that encircles the farm.  Crisp cold air, wintry landscape, and horses' exuberant spirits lift my mood during what most people feel is the bleakest time of year. 
       But this winter wasn't typical.  It's been almost six weeks since I last rode a horse.  The bitter cold weather that gripped the Adirondacks through January and February simply defeated any attempt at motivating myself to ride.  I filled the void with other activities.  Editing my book is at full throttle.  Bonding with my baby donkeys distracted me too.  And now that it is the first of March, perhaps the extended sub-zero cold is behind us.  
       Recently, I've begun to tune into subtle changes.  Sunny days feel warm and hopeful.  Daylight lingers until after 6:00 pm and all of the animals are beginning to shed their thick winter layers of hair.  With renewed motivation I climbed back into the saddle this week and once again, took up the reins of my favorite form of physical exercise.  


My favorite view...

...is from the saddle!
Thanks for the lift Lowtchee.


Saturday, February 23, 2013

Animal Therapists

Good Evening,
       Despite only teaching for three days, it has been a rather long week filled with a lot of information to ruminate and digest.  On Tuesday, after a relaxing day off, I returned to school for a full day of staff development sans my students.  These days are nestled into the calendar here and there to provide an opportunity for educators to glean important updated trends in education.  
       The day was chock full of possibilities.  At each session I signed in and listened carefully to various presentations.  The morning sessions addressed the new Common Core Learning Standards that we are currently adapting to.  (Kudos to our District for providing all of the essential training that we teachers have requested.)
       After a delicious lunch the entire staff attended a session titled School Violence; Active Shooter Incidents Awareness.  It was presented by two ex-law enforcement officers who now work for Homeland Security at the state level.  Although the training is in its infancy I am confident that a lot is taking place on both the federal and state level to make sure that protocols are in place should the unthinkable occur inside of our school building.  The facilitators were sympathetic to the new role that teachers must now assume.  Not only must we lead our students but, now we may have to protect their lives as well.  I was moved by the compassion the two men conveyed toward us as we began to comprehend the enormity of our new role.         
       The objective for the training was not to frighten us but rather to establish a perspective for how we might integrate our new role into what we already do as teachers.  How will we take control?  How will we keep our students calm and quiet during a lockdown?  Where might we hide our students to protect them from gunfire?  After the training I barely recognized the profession  that I had chosen to pursue more than 20 years ago.  Needless to say I left school on Tuesday weary from my anxiety.  
      Arriving home I changed quickly and reported to the barn.  There to greet me were my therapists.  Immediately, I felt my inner strength surge and my emotions come to calm.  The animals were all going about their day with the same mission they had the day before and the week before that.  I hugged my goats one at a time beginning with Lacey who greeted me at the barn door with a gentle, "Huaa, mmm".
       I ran my fingers through all of the goat's plush fur.  Their coats are working overtime this winter to insulate them from the extended cold weather.  Then I found the donkeys out behind the barn.  Bing's hoarse 'wuffle' greeted me as I bent down to kiss his irresistibly soft muzzle.  He stood perfectly still and relaxed as I fussed over him.  Behind Bing, Frankie waited patiently for his turn.  The aroma from the barn, manure and the animals themselves welcomed me home like a great big hug. 
    On Friday, the Adirondack Museum sent a 'hands on' presentation to school about trapping, hunting and fishing in the Adirondacks.  The program provided a superb opportunity for our students to learn about the history of the region we live in.  
       In a large pack basket was a pile of pelts once worn by many of our native species including a coyote, bobcat, fisher, deer, otter, beaver, bear and red fox.  They had all been expertly preserved.  No doubt the fur, which had been harvested during the animal’s peak condition, had once belonged to healthy robust specimens.
       I plunged my fingers into the coat of the bobcat and was taken by how soft and thick it was.  I pushed my fingers down to the skin and immediately became aware that something was missing.  Below the luxurious exterior there was no warmth.  No defined muscular structure pushed back against my fingers.  There was no moisture, oily residue or dander.  My fingers recoiled perfectly clean.  
      The irony and superficiality that beauty is skin deep is not lost here.  If what really matters is deep within us then why do we value these pelts?  Why do we still strip animals of their lives in order to possess their coats?  I understand the historical aspects of harvesting animals in the Adirondacks.  I accept the necessity for conservation which includes hunting to keep populations of various species healthy and I eat meat.  Trapping, however, is difficult for me to justify. 
      Later that afternoon I took to the woods with my goats, donkeys and dogs in tow.  In their company the cold crisp air and the promise of a carefree weekend lifted my mood.  I couldn't keep my hands off of them.  My fingers burrowed deep down through the lush pile of Lilly’s coat.  Ignoring the softness and texture my fingers sought the warm proof of her existence, still alive, still breathing and still bringing me great joy.  Lowering my face to her muzzle I was rewarded with warm puffs of her breath.  I held her close to me, my hands still seeking reassurance that her body was attached to her fur.  When she'd had enough of me, I grabbed big Liam and plunged my fingers down to his skin.  He too was still whole beneath his coat.  
       After repeating my grasp on the goats and donkeys, I performed a similar examination on my little dogs.  They sat in my lap smiling as I rubbed and scratched the skin at the base of their coats; each one so different from the others.  Huxley’s short hair was the warmest of all.  Its shiny smooth texture reminded me of the inert otter pelt from the pile in the pack basket.  


Frankie waits for his turn after Bing.

The Doctors will see me now.

I can't get enough of them.

Can't keep my hands off.

Liam's coat is thick with cashmere this winter.

In a few more weeks he will begin to shed in puffs of fluff.

Even Dr. Lowtchee provides therapy after a long week.

Her sense of humor reminds me to lighten up.

Nina's coat is classic wiry terrier.

Hayden's coat is silky fine...and greasy.
      

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Animal Affection

       Good Evening,
    Celebrating Valentines Day this week got me thinking about how my animals demonstrate affection.  Arguments have ensued for centuries about whether or not animals are capable of love; either giving or receiving it.  One has only to live with a dog or cat to believe that indeed they do. 
     When our Dachshund, Huxley, wraps his entire wiggly body around my neck in the morning, he is clearly gesturing that he wants to be as close to me as possible.  No other reason exists for this behavior.  When our West Highland terrier, Nina is distressed by thunder, lightening and the power clicking on and off, she leaps into my lap.  There she seeks comfort from my reassuring words and arms that hold her until the scary noises stop.  Our first pig, Noah hoisted himself up on the sofa to sit in my lap even after his weight exceeded mine. Quietly, he snuggled against me for an hour or so until bedtime.  
       These are just a few examples of affection displayed by the animals in my book.  The behaviors compliment the love that humans are capable of giving.  It is not important to contemplate the scientific origins of these behaviors.  The euphoria that exists in the moment of our mutual affection is proof enough to believe it.  And I do!

 Happy Valentines Day with kisses....

...from Fiona...
(Photo by Michele deCamp)

...Lilly...

...and Frankie!


Saturday, February 9, 2013

Daily Procession

       Good Evening,
       Its been another bitter cold week ending in a snowstorm that blanketed the entire Northeast.  10 inches of fresh snow has deposited a crisp layer of white frosting in our woods.  The clear blue sky overhead complimented the snowy landscape on our walk with the dogs and goats today.  For the last few weeks the donkeys have joined us on our daily hikes.  It appears that they too love our companionship.  So come along and enjoy the procession.


Lacey looks forward to our daily walk.

Recently, the donkeys have begun to tag along.



Friday, February 1, 2013

Reader's Turn

        Good Morning,
      Every time I publish a post on my blog, I wait with great anticipation for the pageview counter to begin up-ticking away!  Almost immediately after announcing the new post on Facebook, there is evidence that someone out there is reading the new entry.  It’s thrilling to share my writing with those who wish to know more about Fiona, Promise, the donkeys, the horses and Rosemary to name just a few of the main characters from previous posts.  The assumption that I make over and over again is that my readers love animals and completely empathize with the connections that I have made with my own.  Therefore readers, you have caught my attention.  This post is more or less an invitation for you to share the animals from your lives. 
       So, if you were writing a memoir, (and I strongly urge you to), about the animals in your life, who would some of the main characters be?  Do you have a dog, cat, horse, etc…who you rescued?  Perhaps they rescued you.  Is there a special animal who supported you through childhood, difficult times, or raising your family and, although he is gone now, you have never forgotten the impact he had during your years together?  Has a pet ever arrived at the most appropriate or extraordinary time?  Now its your turn to share these special 'tails' from past and present with other animal lovers and of course, with me!
       Use the comment option at the bottom of this page or post on Finding My Way to Moose River Farm's Facebook page.  Pictures can be posted on FB too.  Can't wait to read about the special animals in your life.

After visiting MRF for a class picnic, one of my student's illustrated the activities he engaged in that day.  Note: hot-dog lunch and hot-dog, Huxley, Fiona and a goat eating a bale of hay, Rosemary wrapped in his arms, and the Westies sitting on the back of our beloved Sandi, (Just a School Horse). 




      

Saturday, January 26, 2013

36 Below

       Good Evening,
       It has been a long week.  Extended cold weather is providing challenging conditions to care for farm animals. The last four nights have dipped to either side of 30 degrees below 0 and the daily temperature has barely risen above 5 degrees. Visits to the barn must be brief; performing only essential chores.  Aside from a fleeting glimpse of each occupant's condition it is not possible for me to spend quality time with them.  I worry about my animals incessantly.  Concern for my baby donkeys wakes me in the middle of the night when I hear trees outside our window, crack and pop with the dropping temperatures. 
      The following poem is a description of my morning routine this week.  Read it quickly to get a sense of the urgency in feeding 11 horses, 3 goats and 2 donkeys before hypothermia sets in.  

36 Below
My eyes blink in disbelief
36.7 below?
Adrenalin pumping, Into snow pants I'm jumping
Bundle up 
then out to the barn I go!
First breath is tight in my chest
Crunchy snow under each hurried step

The lights moan and chug
too cold; they barely flicker

Think quickly, only essential chores
Extra hay, measured grain, thankful for heated water buckets

A frosty head appears 
at every stall door
Eyelashes, whiskers and ears
Each hair strung with icy beads
Between large nostrils 
I leave a melting kiss

Fingers numb but, I'm not quite done
In the heat of the tackroom I seek relief
allow warm water to flow
A dry pair of gloves
then back into the cold I go

Goaties' twisted bodies huddled;
faces buried in each other's thick cashmere
Onto their feet they rise and greet
then plunge mouths into grain with gusto

Off to the 'indoor' next
where another light fails 
Donkeys lie still
No welcoming 'wuffle'
In my panic they rise
Wipe the relief from my eyes
wrap an arm around each 
press my face against their tiny muzzles
gusts of their warm breath on my frozen cheek
ah, such an indulgence 

Windy's, (1983 to 2010), frosty complexion is the result of -30 degrees. circa; 1995. 

Despite the bitter cold, (36.7 degrees below 0), Lowtchee is in good spirits and ready to dig into her hay!