P.L.O.M. People

Sunday out at the ranch we had a family meal with our kids and grand kids.  It had been over a week since we'd seen our daughter, she had been attending a week long conference in Scottsdale.  There were ten of us, we had a family style meal outdoors at the picnic table, something I always grew up with.

My daughter and I finally got around to talking about her conference, she really learned a lot and enjoyed it.  She especially liked the speaker at the conference who was from Kentucky.  She told me a lil' story about this women, it got me thinking about my family..............all those Southern relatives of mine!

My grand daddy, Grady Henry Noland, was born in Sherman, Texas.  He was the baby out of seven children.  His mother who was originally from Georgia, raised her seven children mostly by herself.  Her husband was a drifter, who would leave her for years at a time and then one day...........just surface again.  The family made their living as sharecroppers.  Traveling where and whenever there was work, so they moved often.

My granny, Bertha Ann Coursey/Noland, was born in Wyatt, Louisiana.  She was the fourth child of twelve children.  Her mama was Cherokee, English and French.  Her father was Irish.  They too were sharecroppers, moving often.

Both families eventually landed in Marked Tree, Arkansas working farms.  That is where my grandparents met and married.  We have a large family cemetary in Jonesboro, Arkansas, not far from Marked Tree.

Eventually my grandparents moved to Arizona. My grand daddy eventually started making his own hard, earned cash by building lil' shotgun houses for the soldiers during the forties.  This eventually earned him enough to buy a small ranch and build a home for the family.  He raised cattle. 

The speaker at the conference, told the group about her mama's favorite word..........it was "P.L.O.M. people"............which stood for, "poor lil' ol' me."  I grew up knowing things like this, it's something that happens when you are raised by Southerners.  Sayings like: "gettin' all the good and plenty out of something," meaning you had to wear it out before you got another.  "Shit fire," which my grand daddy said when something went wrong, the only cuss word I ever heard him use.  I say it now, but tame it a bit with "shoot fire," my middle grandson likes to use it also........frequently!  "Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit," when you couldn't believe something, kinda like "all be."  "Sister," his nickname for his daughter, "Poor lil' ol thing," something usually said when you didn't like someone or were gossiping about them. There were many lil' ol' sayings,  my point being, that life with Southerners is never, ever dull!!!  They certainly keep a conversation full of life and humor.

Now I've met P.L.O.M. people before, you know, the ones that constantly complain about their woes.  Whether is be an illness, a wrongful deed done to them, things just not going right for them............we've all met them. In fact, I have a neighbor that is a P.L.O.M. person, in all honesty, he drives me nuts!!  I can't talk to him for too long, because before you know it, he's rollin' in his own self-pity, I figure he doesn't need me for an audience, he's his own, "one man pity party." Usually when he corners me,  I listen for a wee bit and then tell him I've got somethin' burnin' in the kitchen and quickly depart.

Now I'm a darn positive girl most of the time.  I thank GOD everyday when I wake up, just for the sheer fact that I DID wake up!  Another day to enjoy time with my grand babies, kids, husband and.................our lil' ol' ranch.

My point is that I'm very proud of my roots, I'm very proud of my grand parents for etching out a nice life for themselves when all odds were against them.  I'm proud of the fact that I was able to spend so much time with my grandparents, we were close.  I spent my life eating some of the BEST Southern cuisine ever..............ham hocks and pintos with cast iron cornbread (my granny made the BEST!), fried okra, turnip greens cooked in bacon grease for hours on the stovetop, lima beans and ham, black-eyed peas, fried chicken and fried sunfish, watermelon with salt, homemade ice cream, cornpones, drop biscuits with homemade jams, meringue pies of all types, iced tea by the gallons drunk out of quart jars iced down, homemade mac and cheese, pickled goodies. 

I miss my grand parents, there are so many things I would love to ask them now that I'm older.  One thing is for sure, I'm proud of my "people" and I'm proud to share that Southern gift with my "sister" and "boo"...............Jessi Ann and Jared Thomas (aka J.T.) 

A Spinning Wheel for Katie or Confessions of a Spinning Addict!

This is my newest purchase....a traditional Ashford spinning wheel.  It's a single drive, made in New Zealand, probably a 1960's model.  I think I got a very, very, good deal on this spinning wheel from a very, very, nice lady I know.

I bought this wheel from a "blogger" friend, shepherdess friend, and email friend. It was my first time to actually meet her in person, along with her significant other, and all her beautiful sheep and lambs.  What an education I got that day.  I can't say enough about learning a "new" craft.  I'm a firm believer in keeping the ol' noggin in good working order by always educating self, and learning something new, something that feels good to spirit, that sings out to your soul. Thus my desire to purchase a spinning wheel so the joy of spinning would go a bit faster for me.  You see, I'd always spun fiber with a drop spindle...............now I know that's an art in itself, but what a joke!  Give me a spinning wheel anyday!!!

In my short 2-3 hour visit with K.L. a master spinner herself, I learned sooo much in such a short time.  K.L. is truly a great teacher, a patient woman, a kind soul.  I learned the parts of the spinning wheel, I learned little tricks of the trade so to speak on a wheel, I learned how to spin, how to wash fleece properly, how to oil "the machine," how to thread the machine, how to ply, also knitty knobs and lazy kates, AND.....which way to spin cut fleece!!!  Now I know why she is a Master spinner with the Endowment of Arts, she's phenomenal and I like her a lot.

This is a flyer and a bobbin on a spinning wheel.  Isn't it pretty??  This is a top view to give you an idea of how it works and how the fiber looks once spun.  The flyer goes around wrapping the fleece onto the bobbin as I peddle with my foot.  It's a pretty intricate ordeal if you're not good at multi-tasking, but with time and practice, you too can spin fleece into yarn.The blue rubber band is off a bunch of fresh broccoli, it is used for the tension, I can either tighten or ease up on the tension depending on the fiber and how fast I want to spin.....which isn't fast at the moment, but I'm o.k. with that because right now, I enjoy the feel of the machine as I work the fleece and learn the wheel. Fast is a later date for this spinner.

I also learned that the flyer on the wheel was engineered with the help of Leanardo di Vinci............who knew and isn't that cool?  Also in the washing process of wool, the spinning cycle of the wool is called, "wuzzing."  Washing fleece is called, "scouring."When spinning, you always spin to the right, ply to the left (aka "sinister").  Plying is when you join yarns on your wheel. 

The parts of a wheel: Bobbin, Flyer, Maidens, Mother of All, Tension knob or brake, Wheel and Hub, Footman, Peddle, Leader.......I'm having a blast with this wheel, I'm in love!!!

This morning I pulled up my Farmer's forecast on the weather for our area.....and guess what?  It's going to be really windy on the high plateau today....awww! The garden is watered, the sheep, steer, and chickens are already fed so........... I'm spinning today just for the "shear" (no pun intended) joy of spinning my fleece into yarn!

SONG FOR THE SPINNING WHEEL

Swiftly turn the murmuring wheel!

Night has brought the welcome hour,

When the weary fingers feel

Help, as if from faery power;

Dewy night o'ershades the ground:

Turn the swift wheel round and round!

Now, beneath the starry sky,

Couch the widely-scattered sheep;

Ply the pleasant labour, ply!

For the spindle,while they sleep,

Runs with speed more smooth and fine,

Gathering up a trustier line.

Short-lived likings may be bred

By a glance from fickle eyes;

But true love is like the thread

Which the kindly wool supplies,

When the flocks are all at rest

Sleeping on the mountain's breast.

William Wordsworth (1770-1850)                 

"The Bean Tree"

This is a "bean tree."  It stands seven foot tall, it's made of green willow, and it's my own creation...........well the idea of a trellis isn't mine, but the "bean tree" is.  I've used these for many years in gardening.  However, when we moved from our home in Show Low to our home in the country...............I left my "bean trees" behind, I've been kickin' myself in the hinny ever since.

Yesterday after getting three lil' grandkids up, fed, and ready for their departure from the ranch, "The Man" asked me what I wanted to do for the day.  I told him I'd think about it while he was returning the lil' chicks back to their parentals.

I knew the garden was getting planted over Memorial week-end (as it has for many years), further my greenhouse is being taken over by my heirloom beans with names like: Ram's Horn, Greasy Grits, Anazazi, & the beloved, Giant Speckled.  The runners on these beans are lovingly embracing my heirloom tomato plants and squash.........boy am I ready to plant!  So it only seemed right that "The Man" and I spend a very windy day, along the rivers edge, cutting willow.  I used the lopers, he used a saw.........pretty soon, we had a  truck-load of fresh, green, willow for my craft.

These "bean trees" are NOT hard to make, we can usually whip one out in about a half-hour.  I need ten by next week-end!!  We strip four branches, lay them on the ground and measure seven foot, then cut. We then stand them upright, get the feel of the willow and it's best fit, then start screwing pieces together at the top (think of a tepee).  Once the top is screwed, we make two layers of bracing at different heights on the "bean tree."  Sometimes we criss-cross, sometimes we square off.  Once these are completed, we sink the legs into the earth by about six inches and I plant the heirloom bean in the middle of the "tree."  Then I hang a homemade device from the upper portion of the "tree" to distract birds from my bean plants. 

These "bean trees" work like a charm and they are good for many, many years.  Once the bean plant has started it's upward climb (to the height of seven foot or more), and blooms.........you have a beautiful, piece of art in the garden.

My next garden art will be a loom.  It's part sculpture, part loom, part wildlife attractor and is six foot high and three foot wide  The vertical strings (the warp) are garden jute  The horizontal threads (the weft) are woven in from any materials you want........mine will be wool fibers combined with grasses, flowers, and stalks from my garden. I will weave willow, amaranth, echinacea, and sunflower stalks, dill, zinnias, and black-eyed Susans.  Friends, family and grandkids are all welcome to gather to weave rows on the sculpture. 

The spark of love, the joy of connection, and the knowledge that we are a tiny part of the whole tapestry is amazingly powerful. 

So.............get your creative juices flowing and share your ideas!"When we are motivated by goals that have deep meaning, by dreams that need completion, by pure love that needs expressing............then we truly live life."---Greg Anderson

"Because Kindness Matters"

There are times when people do something unexpected and you're blown away by their insight and kindness.

Last Monday while driving home from Phoenix, "The Man" and myself stopped at a convenience market to purchase some water and candy.  It just happened to be on the reservation.  As we pulled in, a young cowdog was in the parking lot, completely stressed, obviously nursing some young pups somewhere, and she had this very worried look on her face.  I hopped out of the vehicle and said, "hi pooch, where are your babies?"  "The Man" looked over at her and said, "you need to get along and go feed your babies."  This particular convenience market is a busy market.  Cars were pulling in one after another to gas up and head to wherever...........no one really paid any mind to the lil' bitch, but it was obvious she wanted something from someone, anyone!

As I approached the check-out line, I asked the cashier what the deal was with the dog.  He said, "she's a stray, feral, animal control has already hauled her off, but then they realized she had a litter of pups somewhere so they had to bring her back and let her go, you know, she has to nurse those pups."  I asked him, "does anyone know where the pups are?"  He said "yes, they're right over yonder near the creek, out in the desert." 

 We finished our transaction, I turned to head out the door, when "The Man" grabbed by shoulder and said, "head on out to the truck, I'll be out in a minute."  I stopped on my way out to the truck and called the dog, she was so frightened, and headset on her mission. About that time, "The Man" comes out of the market with a big, fat, juicy hot dog in a bunn.  He blows on it, the lil' cowdog is salivating, pacing, hungry.  One at a time, he pinches off lil' pieces and cools them, then tosses them to her.  She is terrified to get too close to him, but the temptation is too much for her, she is hungry.  She gobbles the last of the hot dog and bunn down and backs up a pace, looks at the man and decides he's o.k.................she comes over to him, rubs up against his leg and walks away to beg from others coming and going. 

With a glisten of a tear in his eye, we head out to the truck, get in and resume our trip back up the mountain.  I don't say a word.  When we get home, check on our own animals and head into the house, I turn to "The Man" and tell him, "these are the things you think of and do, unconditionally, that make me love you so very much."  We kiss, hug and head off to retire for the night, it's been a long day.

I love you very much!  You are a special human being and I'm thankful everyday for you.

"The Cycle"

This is sweet "Kitchi" minutes after birth.  His name is Algonquin for, "brave one."  Brave he was, as was his mother, "Gracie."  He was 11# at birth.  He is a Jacob/Churro lamb.  He has very curly, jet black fleece, with dapplings of white.  He will have horns as it's in his genetics.

At 10 a.m. last Friday, "The Man" came into the house and told me to come check our ewe "Gracie."  We knew she was soon to lamb but weren't quite sure when.  When I approached the lambing jug she had chosen, she was in obvious signs of labor.  I assumed she was in the first stage of labor and would present a bag of water soon.  "The Man" and myself stayed in the jug with "Gracie."  We timed a half hour, cooing and speaking softly to "Gracie" giving her words of encouragement, this was her first lambing.  About fifteen minutes into the labor, I realized something was amiss................a thought that had plagued me for most of her pregnancy.  Another push from the ewe and I saw................one hoof! 

I quickly scrubbed up, went back outside and did a check on her.  The lamb was crossed up, what shepherds call "dystocia," meaning an abnormal or difficult birth...........little did we know, it would be both.  As I reached further into the ewe to locate the position of the other leg, she went down on me.  It's so much easier to correct and manipulate a "crossed" lamb when the ewe remains upright.  I did finally locate the other leg, which was further in her and bent.  Once freed and pulled down to meet the other hoove, I reached back in to locate the head.  It was stuck............BIG time.  Everytime I let go of the hooves to try and free the forehead, the lambs legs contracted back inside her.  This is the point in time that "The Man" gets his first experience with helping "birth a babe."

I had "The Man" hold onto the legs (which were a smidgen of the way out), while I further tried to help the ewe with her delivery.  Try as we might, the lamb was stuck!  We are both getting nervous as "Gracie" now isn't responding to a whole lot.........I'm fearing shock as we have worked on her now for approximately 10 minutes.  Finally, I ask "The Man" to let me have the legs, I push the lamb further inside, rotate a quarter turn and let him have the legs back.  Re-entry tells me we can now start pulling slowly.  We are both, literally sweating now, pulling and finally, out pops the head of a very sweet lamb..............he's moving..............thank you GOD.  Another moment and he is fully delivered.  I quickly place the lamb at the mouth and nose of the ewe......to no avail.  The ewe is "spent" and unresponsive!

The lamb is covered in meconium so I realize he's been in the womb too long.  I turn him over to "The Man" for clean-up and resume with my ewe.  I'm cooing her, checking her respirations, telling her to "get up."  Finally, "The Man" who is emotionally spent now, moves over and gently pushes her telling her to "get up."  She does...........oh thank GOD once again.  She is super weak.  She doesn't want anything to do with her lil' boy lamb.  We are worried.

After interminable hours, we get the ewes energy back up to snuff, give shots of penicillan, vitamins, molasses water.............she then finally takes a "sniff" of the lamb..................then a "lick" of the lamb...............then a "nuzzle" of the lamb..............longer than should have transpired, she finally let's her babe nuzzle her breast................colostrum finally in his belly, tired from his entry into the world..............they lie together and sleep. 

After four days in a lambing jug with her son, "Gracie" has turned out to be a very good mother.  She's attentive, let's him nurse as often as he wants, and will stave off other jealous ewes to protect. Fortunately for "The Man," myself, "Gracie" and "Kitchi," no signs of infection are present, he is now bouncing around although very shy with the other lambs (who are much bigger than him at this point).  He's eating alfalfa, sleeping and thriving.

This will be "Gracies" one and only babe.  She is too tiny (due to her own crippling as a lamb) to ever bare another.  I can't nor won't put her through another ordeal like this one.  Do I get rid of her, do I keep her?  I don't know the answer to that question yet................however, I will follow "my heart" when that decision needs to be made.

Welcome to the world, "Kitchi," you are a "brave one!" But then, your mama beat all odds in her own life!!!! 

"Cattle Dot Helps Shepherdess Kat!!"

This is my beautiful mother, I won't tell you how "young" she is but most would not believe me, she looks phenomenal for her age!  She is holding our youngest grandson Chase and her youngest great-grandchild (she has six).

Tuesday, April 13th "The Man" has to leave the ranch during the peak of lambing season, he's headed over to Kirkland Air Force base to survey a new facility.  I'm just a tad bit nervous as I have one ewe in particular that usually has multiples and I don't want to be by myself on this lambing.  "The Man" suggests I call my mama and ask her to come stay with me until his return in a couple of days.  I call, and "Cattle Dot" comes without question, I love her for her selfless acts of kindness.

We get up first thing in the morning and check on the ewe, she appears to be fine but she is sleeping a lot and standing guard in one particular "lambing jug."  This jug has always been the jug she lambs in and NO one else gets to step foot in it when she's ready to lamb!  Throughout the day we check on her, usually hourly checks as I can see she's progressing in labor.........I call this the "silent stage of labor."  The ewe is restless, tired, pawing the ground, isolating herself from the rest of the flock, and generally, just kinda miserable. 

After an entire day of keeping vigil, it's now feeding time for the sheep.  I call each pregnant or nursing ewe to me after the hay has been bucked into the feed bunker, they must come for their grain.  Each one comes as called to snarf up their grain...........except one..........."Freckles."  Often but NOT always, a ewe will refuse her grain feeding just prior to lambing...........a rumen full of grain fermenting isn't an "iddy" way to go into full blown labor.  I know she will lamb soon.

After the nightly feeding, "Cattle Dot" suggests we sit in the barn at the table and have a glass of wine, that way we can "kinda watch the ewe."  I oblige and we enjoy the last of the late afternoon with another glass of wine.  I'm beginning to see the ewe getting more and more agitated so I suggest we mosey into the ol' ranch house and have dinner. 

I've already made up two wonderful arugula/spinach salads with the works, one steamed artichoke (we can split with my wonderful lime aioli), and a batch of roasted asparagus..........that will be our dinner this evening............before sitting down, I make one last check on the ewe and realize that this dinner will be put on hold!

I walk out to the barn leaving "Cattle Dot" to set up the table, only to find a lil' white head standing in the lambing jug...............Miss "Freckles" has decided to start the rodeo without us!  I run back indoors and tell "Cattle Dot" to, "suit up and head out to the barn, she's birthin' babies."  Now "Cattle Dot" has never seen lambs born, she's tried on numerous occasions but to no avail, it's taken four years and she finally gets to assist with a lambing.  She cleans their lil' noses as they arrive, she dips the umbilical, she dries them off, she fills a drench syringe three times for me so I can give them a energy booster............the temperature outdoors is plummeting, we're wet from sheep fluids, we don't have on our proper coats...........and when we think we'll head into the house to get them, another lamb is making it's entrance into the world.  By midnight, we have helped the ewe with her lambing, she's tired, we're tired, but the lambs are doing well, nursing and sleeping, nice and warm under the jug lights. The temperature outdoors is now 33 F.  We pick up our lambing kit, the dirty, wet towels, and head into the house.  We strip down...........do a quick wash over, put PJ's on and eat our meal in silence.

We both stagger off to bed lightly saying our inaudible "goodnights" and drop off into a deep slumber.  "Cattle Dot" has finally seen the lil' lambs born, she's happy, tired, and say's she "wouldn't have missed it for the world." I'm more than thankful that "Cattle Dot" has helped "Shepherdess Kat" this cold, Spring night in April. 

Thank you mama, I'm ever thankful............AND, I'm glad your daddy raised cattle and you are a nurse!  Both bits of your knowledge helped tremendously!!  "Hey............what do ya say we do it again next year?"

Land of Nod

I'm sorry about this shot of my ewe "Freckles," my favorite pie-bald dam, but it validates this posting. 

 Poor "Freckles" is ready to lamb in the next week, she is carrying multiples.  We're not talking about twins or triplets either.  Last Spring she put out four lambs, three ram lambs and a small ewe lamb that was "silly as all get out!"  This year.....is anybodys guess, but I'm thinking at least four again, if not five!

We also have another ewe/dam that is pregnant for the first time in three years.  She took her time "smoozing" up to the ol' ram.  Now she is also carrying multiples, twins I believe.  Because most of you know that she is my sweet baby, this is just a bit nerve racking for this shepherdess.  I'm compelled to be there for both of these ewes, one may need me for support and one may need me for support and manipulation of a lamb in vitro! 

We have two other dams as well that are pregnant but my worry is not over them.  They are seasoned, sure fired sheep who know what they are doing.  Maybe it's because I have enough on my plate as it stands today.  Now "Freckles" is a well seasoned, sure fire sheep also but handling the task of lambing, cleaning and suckling four or five lambs is one, big, job.  Last year she barely had time to clean one off and another was on it's way. 

The nights are long and tiresome for me, up every two hours round the clock until lambing season is over..............I'm sleep deprived!  "The Man" helps out when he can but with a full work load I certainly don't expect him to get up every two hours during the night.....although he is missing some awesome happenings out in the world.

One-thirty a.m. April 5th.........oh my were the stars bright, and light, and the moon was yellow. I even took the time to run into the house for the camera so I could get a shot of the moon...........at one-thirty in the morning!A couple of nights in a row, the owls have been making a racket in the ol' Elm trees.  The coyotes are loud lately, food must be abundant for them.  And always you hear dogs barking off in the distance. 

Speaking of dogs, "Blue" usually heads out with me each and every time like a loyal companion, he protects me..... and he pees!  I like that he wants to go outdoors with me, often as I'm cooing to the sheep in their jugs, he lies down near my feet wondering.........."how long is she going to coo those damn sheep?"  But he waits and he's usually patient, sometimes he'll wait for me at the end of the walk-way especially if it's cold outdoors. 

When lambing season is over, and the weather is warmer, and all lambs are growing ferociously, I'll grab a great book, lie in my outdoor recliner and visit the land of nod!