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Saturday, May 28, 2011

First show of the year


After a week of hoof trimming, coat clipping and udder shaving we loaded up our trailer to head to the WRDGA show in Burton Ohio. 

Cammile went RGCH over several other lovely Alpine does. Elina and Emilene, mother and daughter, were 1st place in their respective age classes. Lola, my alpine kid did a stunning Stevie Wonder impression, swaying her head left to right as she dragged me across the ring. Despite this, she took second place in her class, second to the alpine who ended up being awarded best junior doe in show. 

Mallory, a long bodied Togg senior kid, showed in the AOP class against a handful of Oberhaslis, dancing and jumping her way to a 1st place and was awarded GCH in the class. Yeah, collar training is overrated. My embarrassment over the behavior and stubbornness of my kids goes away when they do well! They always seem to calm down as they grow...



A special congrats to Miss Moon who dominated the PeeWee showmanship class on her very first trip to the show ring. She definitely earned her blue ribbon. I also attribute Mallorys win to Una, who led her around the ring gracefully even when she was being uncooperative and trying to walk on 2 legs. Una helped Mallory earn her GCH title and deserved the right to show her during 'Best in Show' on her first official day as a showman. Congrats and thanks for your help!

The weather according to Dick Goddard (Rog). . .

Our farm sits on a flat, barren piece of land that used to belong to a much larger farm. Though the year, we continually observe that our house sits on the edge of a weather front, of sorts. There are times when we can see a weather system passing through the front yard but its dry and sunny in the back. I once passed through a blizzard at the foot of the driveway to find clear skies by the house.


So Rog explains that we sit on a bit of a plateau due to the advancement and retreat of the Wisconsin Glacier around 100,000 years ago. I looked it up to get more information to post here but it was as if I was reading a foreign language and I lost interest quickly. Phew! I thought that black cloud was following me all this time!

During severe weather, it does help that we can see, for the most part, 180 degrees in all directions, from horizon to horizon. All I know is that there were some incredibly freaky sights from our back porch the past few weeks. Ominous doesn't begin to describe seeing 3-4 layers of clouds, all swirling in opposite directions, the sky seemingly rolling and falling in on itself.




During my search for weather info, I decided to learn a little more about the very small town we live in. A few things I know as fact: a) there aren't many of us, b) the Amish outnumber us,  c) if your last name isn't Smith or Yoder, you will be loudly and publicly ridiculed when you register to vote at the town hall, and d) we have just one of these!



Here are a few little known facts about Adario, OH.

1. We aren't actually large enough to have our own mailing address. So to confuse us furthur, some folks have a Greenwich address and some have Shiloh, Plymouth, Savannah??? Not to mention my road changes names 3 times along its 5 mile course.


2. Rattlesnakes were once so numerous in Butler Township that one original settler (Elias Ford) had to suspend his bed from the rafters to keep the venomous reptiles from sharing it with him. All I've encountered are masses of garter snakes.
3. The round-up of the great wolf-hunt of 1828 was made near Adario. No wolf was captured, but a number of wild turkeys and deer were secured. No turkeys here, but plenty of deer. We've taken it upon ourselves to control the groundhog and coyote population.
4. Henry Foulks founded the village in 1838, which was originally called LaFayette. The name was changed to Adario because Ohio already had a town by that name. And no, it's not "a-dare-ee-o" like most of the world would assume. It's "add-uh-rye-oh" with a little hillbilly added in, or else "they will know you aren't locals", according to our realtor. Ummm, I think they know. . .
5. Our very own Fowler's Wood's holds the distinction of being Ohio's First Nature Preserve. The preserve is wheelchair accessible with 1-1/4 mile looped boardwalk. Spring is the best time for viewing the large variety of wildflowers and old-growth forest.

6. There are 1386 residents in all of Butler township, the largest city, Savannah  has 368. No records for Adario. I do know that the ratio of homes vs mobile homes is 2.5 to 1 and its obvious that the main industry is farming, considering most areas have no electricity.

7. The township is governed by a three-member board of trustees. Voted upon by 10 residents?? I remember when a toothless candidate knocked on our door one evening smelling of manure and chewing a toothpick, trying to secure our vote. 

8. There are 301 sex offenders living in our area!!!!! This is why its a bad idea to go digging around for information about your neighborhood. I'm thinking I want to up the power on our electric fence.


9. The USGS database shows that there is a 0.568% chance of a major earthquake within the next 50 years. That's comforting.


10. Every time I searched on Google, the town's main attraction came up every time. The cemetery! No general store, no feed mill, no coffee shop, just a few dangerously leaning homes 'in town' with fully furnished front porches, a few boarded up homes and a few cars that are obviously 'being worked on'.


My father asserted that there was no better place to bring up a family than in a rural environment. There's something about getting up at 5am, feeding the stock and chickens, and milking a couple of cows before breakfast that gives you lifelong respect for the price of butter and eggs.  William E. Bill Vaughan


There is scarcely any writer who has not celebrated the happiness of rural privacy, and delighted himself and his reader with the melody of birds, the whisper of groves, and the murmur of rivulets. Samuel Johnson

Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds, exhilarate the spirit and restore the tone of languid nature. William Cowper

Farming looks mighty easy when your plow is a pencil and you're a thousand miles from the corn field.  Dwight D. Eisenhower

Farming with live animals is a 7 day a week, legal form of slavery.
George Segal


Upscale chicken housing now available

The new barn finally arrived! After weeks of waiting and wading through our yard, we had 2 dry days in mid May and Lakeside Cabins in Shiloh was able to deliver our new chicken house.




I think the hens have doubled in size since we moved them in to their 12'x10' estate. The nest boxes are easily accessible, many interior areas available for roosting, and the skids are high enough to accommodate the recent floods. Next project: an outdoor run to provide free range roaming through the day.

Welome ~ Kickadee Hill NJ Jack McGurn "Mickey"

Mickey joined our farm in late April, making the trek from West Virginia to Ohio. He had quite a first day, he had lunch in the ritzy upscale neighborhood of Hudson before making a pit stop in the National Park, ice cream at Fisher's in Peninsula, then home to Adario. Thanks Marilyn Grossman for allowing us the privilege of bringing another one of your bucks into our herd.


Sire: Noble-Springs AS Smilin’ Jack
S: Alize Sloan’s Arctic Shine
SS:Willow Run Victor Sloan
SD:Loughlin’s Talut Arctic Glow
D:Noble-Springs NSZ Jazelle
DS:Noble-Springs Zane
DD:Noble-Springs WRSE Jenna


Dam: Kickadee Hill JD Go Ask Andrea
S:Kickadee Hill WRS James Dean
SS:Willow Run Stormfront Stuck Up
SD:Kickadee Hill WMV Jorgette
D:Willow Run Diesel Go Ask Alice
DS:Windsor Manor SK Diesel
DD:Willow Run Dreammaker Arlene

F-in Rain!


That's the title of an email I received from a friend recently. Maybe the world is ending. We have plenty of wood, instead of a new aviary for the chickens or raised beds for the garden, maybe we should be reading up on ark-building. First our barn drain backed up, collecting puddles of curdling milk near the septic tank. Then our leach field became overwhelmed, so now we have nicely contrasting black puddles, strategically placed in and around the pastures. Our yard smells like armpit. Make that armpit and poo.



I shouldn't complain, the rain, though increasingly frustrating, has not caused any mass destruction here. Our House is dry, our basement is just a tad damp. We have always wanted a pond, just not in the middle of our driveway.



In between bouts of torrential rain, we rushed to fill our beds with topsoil and were able to get the tomatoes and peppers in. I'm quite sure our lettuce washed away in Tuesdays flood, time will tell. The garden, day 1, looks like that of our hardworking Amish neighbors, freshly turned dirt, dark, rich soil, plants arranged in neat rows. Soon, as in years past, the evil Canadian thistle will worm it's way in and work and other chores will take priority, rendering our lovely garden into a grassy disaster. Function over form, the garden may not be beautiful but is generally quite productive. Why a household of 2 needs 60 assorted tomato plants I can't fathom, but this year I responsibly cut it down to 24. 



Excited to have hunted down shishito pepper plants,can't wait to fry them with lots of lime and sea salt. I promised myself that this is the year- my pumpkins and watermelons will grow big enough to carve and eat,respectively. Last year I nurtured my poor lonely watermelon (yes, just 1), optimistic as it passed successfully from grape to plum to softball size, only to disappear off the vine, likely plucked by some filthy rodent who didn't appreciate its worth.



As I write this, the clouds have cleared and it is sunny, the ground green and lush. Translation=  we need to cut the lawn again. The hayfield is brimming with alfalfa and clover, hopefully the fields will dry out enough to cut it within the next few weeks. Hay sure is expensive when the growing season has already been pushed back a month. Add in finicky goats that wouldn't dare stoop so low as to eat grass hay and that makes for a pricey spring. 


As I sit on my porch, enjoying a few moments in the sun, I breathe in the freshly cut grass watch the goats napping in the field, the bluebirds flitting in and out of their nest boxes. I watch Tinder (aka Cujo) my chihuahua attack dog, find a treasure in the yard. She sniffs,then dives in, rolling on God knows what like she's in heaven. She turns, bolts like a little bullet on her tiny legs, up over my lounge chair to give me a kiss. 



Just as my nose is assaulted with the smell of rotten, musky, oily death, Kaelyn catches a whiff and quickly seeks out the same spot. Always ready to one up her mini sister, Kaelyn brings me a present. A very dead, very flat decomposing mole. I grab a shoe off the porch (sorry Rog) and collect the vile thing and fling it into the back field. The wind shifts and I hear the roar of a tractor on the dairy farm behind us. My nostrils immediately start burning with the smell of liquid cow manure as he covers the fields closest to our house. Armpit has been replaced by dead musky mole. Then there's the poo.