Showing posts with label goats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label goats. Show all posts
I have a tickle in my throat and that concerns me. I hope I'm not getting sick.
Did I mention that on Friday I was involved in fecal sampling? I will now. On Friday I participated in the collecting of fecal samples (aka poop, nanny berries, etc) from the dairy goats and then assisted in detecting parasite eggs in them via a microscope (not a telescope. if you confuse those two words, people will laugh at you). There are two collecting methods we utilized:
1. Chasing the goats around until they got riled up enough and their insides had jiggled around enough to poop. This was kind of fun, but also a little frustrating. I felt like a goat bully. I was running after them, yanking on their tails and pushing them around. When you see them start to excrete the nanny berries, you open your little ziplock baggie and catch. If that doesn't work . . .
2. You take a more direct method. You extract them directly from their . . the end of their digestive tract. We only had to do this with two goats. I held them still while another reached in.
Don't worry, I was wearing gloves for all of the above.
So that was exciting.
I feel like there was something else I wanted to share. Hm. I just got out of class. The farm has class every Monday and Thursday afternoon over topics about agriculture, missions, world hunger, or religion. Today was about Islam. It was intriguing. The fundamentals of Islam were discussed, as well as how a Christian should approach a Muslim person. The emphasis was on listening instead of arguing, love instead of hostility, repentance instead of attack, conversation instead of evangelism, looking at a person instead of a religion. That sort of thing. There was good discussion.
And now if you'll excuse me, I have some goats to milk. (I feel like I know them a lot better now that I've looked inside their excrement.)
I do enjoy this life. Sometimes it's physically grueling, and sometimes I get sunburned, and sometimes I get headbutted by a baby goat, but it's all good. It's enriching. Not always at the time (like with the headbutting), but afterwards, when I'm showered and resting and thinking about it, I appreciate it.
And when I'm playing. Like today, when we had a farewell tie-dye party for Scott.
I appreciated those moments while they were happening. And some of my plain garments of clothing, are now funkdefied. See, I appreciate that.
I have weekend duty at the farm this weekend. Each weekend two of us farmers are to stay at the farm all weekend and attend to animals and such that need attending to. Basically, keeping things alive--milking the goats (a lot), feeding the goats, rabbits, and chickens, collecting eggs, watering some plants--things like that. So that's me this weekend.
This morning was kind of frustrating. One of the chores was to let the dry goats (as in the goats we don't milk) out to pasture and feed them, but as soon as I walked in the gate carrying my bucket of feed, all fifteen of them (including one donkey--Lollita) swarmed at me and about six got out. So I had to chase them down. It was no bueno. They ran away from me, and only by coaxing them, one-by-one, with a bucket of feed could I lure them back in. It was an ordeal.
But I'm ok. I think I'm free until this afternoon for the second round of milking. Should be good times.
And apparently an unwritten duty of the weekend people is to write in the farm's blog. That's a lot of pressure. I'll be thinking about what I want to write, that is if my fellow weekender doesn't do it himself.
That reminds me of that Saturday morning cartoon The Weekenders. Do you remember them? I liked that show. I liked Saturday mornings. Cereal and cartoons. What else does a kid need?
One of the things I was most anxious about moving onto the farm wass that I knew at some point, I would have to cook lunch for everybody--everybody being 20-30 people. Well, my turn came up today. And I'm still alive! I owe much to my new friend Molly, who helped me every step of the way. Ok, I pretty much just did what she told me to do. We made fried rice loaded with goodness and somosas and a tomato salad. So from 9 to 12:30 we cooked. I then rang the bell to signify lunch wass ready, which is a fun thing to do. So much power. Everyone stops what they are doing and walks down to eat.
I finally got my food and sat down and looked around at the people sitting and eating around me and thought, "Wow. It worked. Everyone is eating. No one is going to make a PBJ Sandwich. They're eating was we made and are satisfied."
Did I mention I never cook?
I probably will have to again sometime. I'll worry about it when it happens.
And I can sleep in tomorrow! Even though I wasn't working outside today because of the cooking, I am really tired. I did have to wake up at 6:30 to milk goats, so maybe that contributes something.
There are a few new folks on the farm now. That's fun. Two people moved in yesterday. One on the previous Thursday. One on the Tuesday before that. One on the Friday before that. One on the Thursday before that. That last one was me. I'm practically a veteran. So if you didn't catch all of that, there are six people who have moved in within the past two weeks.
Today my foot got trampled on by goats. It's ok; it'll just be a bruise. And I furthered my sunburn. Now, every section of my body is a different color. My arms and neck are pink. My torso is white. My legs are tannish. Oh yes, and my face is somewhere in between my arms and my legs (not physically, I'm referring to its color. Physically, my face is above both my arms and my legs. Don't worry. Everything is in order). I think it is a pleasant combination.
Sorry I'm being weird.
So I checked my sitemeter and apparently someone from Kansas reads my blog? Is that true? You can give me an anonymous holler of that is you.
I will leave you with a bit from page 198 of the novel I am reading right now by Paulo Coelho called The Witch of Portobello
Anyone who believes they have failed will always fail. Anyone who has decided that they cannot behave any differently will be destroyed by routine. Anyone who has decided to block all changes will be transformed into dust. Cursed be those who do not dance and prevent others from dancing!
"When will i realize that the skin I'm in, hey, it isn't mine? . . .though I know I can't hid and oh how hard I try, but this is just the shape I'm in."
That's from a Blind Melon song that's playing on my iTunes. Interpret it as you will.
I experienced my first farm rain. It's better than normal rain. Farm rain has more meaning than normal rain. And there is much more mud. But there is much less care about being muddy. I've been caring less about my appearance and cleanliness in general, which is a lot of fun. Here is make up free, dirty, farm Laura, leaning against her farm wall while sitting on her farm bed, typing on her farm laptop.
I officially milked goats for the first time today. I say "officially" because I milked a goat Sunday too, but today was the first time I was scheduled to do so and I milked goats. As in two. There were eight to be milked, but since I'm new and slow, I milked two in the time it took my milking partner to milk six. Milking makes ones fingers rather tired. I will have stronger hands after this summer. And forearms.
There's another new guy we picked up at the Waco airport yesterday, which I had never been to before (I am having so many adventures). We made a sign to great him. I think we kind of freaked him out.
Now the rain is over and the clouds are racing past my window
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