I always wanted to live on a farm. Always. It just took me a while to achieve my lifelong dream, to look out my window and see my animals in my backyard. Let me tell you nothing is more fulfilling, nothing brings more happiness than working hard to achieve a dream and then have it come true. Definitely blessed. Totally grateful.
Through our picture window, I see my world in microcosm. Almost everything that matters in my life (except school) is right here on The Farm. Everyday, when I look through this window, I give thanks to God for His Blessings. And I thank my husband for making it all possible.
Cat to my left
Cat on my lap
Usually at my feet on the bed
Saturday is my favorite day. We all sleep in. Life begins when Mickey awakens; until then, we keep the house in lockdown quiet, since weekdays my alarm rings at 4:30 AM. Today is R&R day; I get to catch up on posting to my 4 blogs, or at least make a dent. Calm sets in and the stress of the week dissipates. Is life on the farm idyllic. Nope. But it's the life I have always and will always want. Living your dream is not something everyone gets to do, but I have always been aggressive about living not existing, and getting there and not settling. And that, I think, sheer determination, is at the heart of achieving that picture perfect window.
A great way to save farmlands is to support your farms by buying local. The American Farmland Trust sponsored a contest to find America's favorite farmers markets. I'm delighted to report that Pennsylvania was represented by 3 great markets, and one of them is in my back yard. Making the Top 20 Farmers Markets in AMERICA are:
With 3 award-winning markets in our state, that makes Pennsylvania the nation's winner. I'm thinking that the breadbasket has moved cross country. Second to PA is Washington DC, with 2 great markets and Virginia, also with two winning markets. If you want to find the top 5 Farmers Markets in your state, click here, then click on your state.
Rounding off Pennsylvania's top 3 Farmers Markets in the country are the Easton Farmers Market in Easton, PA, and the Central Market House. I am really lucky, because 3 are in my "back yard," and the other 2 are definitely within my driving range for a nice country ride.
Congratulations to the farmers in PA, the second largest agricultural state in the nation, and its people who support sustainable agriculture by supporting local farms.
Life on The Farm is a daily adventure; you never know when your day begins what it will bring. In addition to unbearable heat (we managed), on Friday Maria had an eye issue. After calling Carol Reigh (who continues to gain living sainthood), I drove to Blue Mountain Animal Clinic because Dr. Truesdell promised she would help out when she could till her large animal vet joining the practice finished school at Virginia Polytechnic Institute. That was two years ago.
God watches over our animals, I am sure, because I walked into the clinic and there stood Justin L. Cunfer, DVM, who just joined the practice in June and happens to be a local boy and near neighbor as well. When you wait for someone for nearly 2 years, you form a wish list of what you hope your vet will be. Justin was the whole package, plus! He is gentle, caring, and kind in his handling of our animals. He is patient and deliberate, never making a rush to judgment or a false move. My animals instinctively trusted him and I hope were a pleasure to treat. We--all of us--wanted to please. The girls too.
Fortune was smiling, and it was firsts all around. It was Justin's first visit to a farm as a large animal vet. It was Ashley Hawk, CVTs first visit ever. And for me, well, it was our first visit with llamas too. It was so first that the truck was not fully outfitted, but for our purposes, it was like a bit of heaven in your own back yard.
It was a wonderful visit with a happy ending. No eye damage, just some good old-fashioned dirt in Maria's eye. Justin flushed the eye and medicated it, after determining there was no injury. How great it is not only having Justin nearby, but he actually had experience with llamas and alpacas, and he is so willing to continue to learn. In his future, there's a complimentary invitation to our GALA 2010 The Magic of Llamas Conference at Holiday Inn Conference Center in Grantville, PA, and I am really hoping he will attend. It's hard to capture the excitement I feel at having a vet so close by and so knowledgeable, as well as having a trained CVT in Ashley. I am finally breathing a sigh of relief, looking forward to my first cria in September, an Eskalaro offspring.
You can discover more about Justin L. Cunfer, DVM, at Box.net.
Blue Mountain Animal Clinic is a small but growing practice in a tiny town that might otherwise be forgotten except for its intersection on a major N - S highway. From left to right, Barb Stewart manages the office and multitasks with efficiency I admire and covet. Bev Miller meets and greets, handles too many things at one time with ease, and controls the climate of the office ~ always calm, considerate, caring. Dr. Amanda L. Teter rounds out the DVM staff; she has returned from maternity leave and we are glad she is back. Additional office staff was busy helping in the background, so no photo op with them. What I can guarantee is that hidden away in this tiny hamlet is a veterinary practice with a very large heart, and I am blessed that they are a part of our lives.
Influenced by 21st century parlance, when I look for answers to my "picture perfect" approach to The Farm, I guess it's finally time to admit I am OCD Weeds. I hate them, but lucky for me and The Farm, I love to pull them because they butcher beauty. While I know that weeds are plants without a purpose, a weed is a weed, is a weed, is a weed and is dead on my farm. Speaking of butchering beauty, our person who cuts the grass had his zero turn mower platform off balance, so his guide wheel cut deep grooves into the grass I have so carefully cultivated over the years (couldn't he see what he was doing...). What gripes me is that he cut the areas I told him are mine to hand cut, so keep off. Didn't work.
Please let's not confuse him with the best crew ever, Michael and the men (a rock group in your future?). They made up for the butchering by making everything else picture perfect. Michael reminded me that the land would heal (better for the 4th family picnic; can you bully Mother Nature) and ultimately, it's all good (his mantra and I am beginning to buy in).
When the occasional car drives by, I notice that almost always it slows down and occupants look. It is then that I realize how beautiful the farm is, but like any form of beauty, natural or man-made, it requires constant attention. Aching muscles, long days, and acts of God that take shape in the form of severe weather events keep the men and me busy. For the occasional drive-by who must think what a pretty place, I often wonder if they can even begin to count the cost in human effort to keep it pristine.
A downed tree, never hard to find when you live in an open area, aka wind tunnel with no city shapes to cut the impact, can wreak havoc, not to mention cutting off the upper holding ponds and channels from attention until limb removal. Mickey and I thought we had one limb, but keener eyes (and Eric's non-allergy to poison ivy) proved one tree felled the limb of another, so two entangled removals. Luckily, my husband is freighted with tons of common sense, enough for us both, so he never sold the backhoe I so wanted him to ditch for more room in the big barn. Instead, he contracted for a second barn, keeping the backhoe just in case. In case happened this weekend, when Michael and Mickey decided the best, most effortless way to remove the wreckage was, you guessed it, the backhoe. It was also the best way to relocate a LOT of stones and move around and aerate the hay piles from last winter, now creating great mulch for my eventual garden. Llamas do make the best fertilizer.
With all the goings on with several frequently loud initiatives occurring simultaneously, you might wonder what the barn animals do. If the llamas do not feel threatened, they hold ground. But when the noise and equipment even begin to encroach, we relocate them to either upper pasture or the chute, for their own well-being and safety. Sometimes they move on their own or Miss Cierra's initiative, and sometimes I move them. Food is a great motivator. But the best in the barn for holding fast and true has to be Allie Cat, who imposes her own boundaries, the concrete pads, never moving beyond them. She is stolid, and only vehicular traffic in her barn will motivate her to upper ground upstairs in her hay loft.
Sometimes you miss the best photo ops, and one of them would have made a great film clip. Since I was on the hose, you will just have to imagine the scene. Michael and Eric are holding the plastic sheets, connected by a wooden frame at the top, that comprise the flexible "door" for the girls' stalls. Every summer, we take them down and the guys wash them. Someone has to hose them off--the plastic sheets, not the guys--but I managed to do both. It really does help in times like that to remember, "It's all good."
Life on The Farm is a daily adventure; you never know when your day begins what it will bring. In addition to unbearable heat (we managed), on Friday Maria had an eye issue. After calling Carol Reigh (who continues to gain living sainthood), I drove to Blue Mountain Animal Clinic because Dr. Truesdell promised she would help out when she could till her large animal vet joining the practice finished school at Virginia Polytechnic Institute. That was two years ago.
God watches over our animals, I am sure, because I walked into the clinic and there stood Justin L. Cunfer, DVM, who just joined the practice in June and happens to be a local boy and near neighbor as well. When you wait for someone for nearly 2 years, you form a wish list of what you hope your vet will be. Justin was the whole package, plus! He is gentle, caring, and kind in his handling of our animals. He is patient and deliberate, never making a rush to judgment or a false move. My animals instinctively trusted him and I hope were a pleasure to treat. We--all of us--wanted to please. The girls too.
Fortune was smiling, and it was firsts all around. It was Justin's first visit to a farm as a large animal vet. It was Ashley Hawk, CVTs first visit ever. And for me, well, it was our first visit with llamas too. It was so first that the truck was not fully outfitted, but for our purposes, it was like a bit of heaven in your own back yard.
How great it is not only having Justin nearby, but he actually had experience with llamas and alpacas, and he is so willing to continue to learn. In his future, there's a complimentary invitation to our GALA 2010 The Magic of Llamas Conference at Holiday Inn Conference Center in Grantville, PA, and I am really hoping he will attend. It's hard to capture the excitement I feel at having a vet so close by and so knowledgeable, as well as having a trained CVT in Ashley. I am finally breathing a sigh of relief, looking forward to my first cria in September, an Eskalaro offspring.
Blue Mountain Animal Clinic is a small but growing practice in a tiny town that might otherwise be forgotten except for its intersection on a major N - S highway. From left to right, Barb Stewart manages the office and multitasks with efficiency I admire and covet. Bev Miller meets and greets, handles too many things at one time with ease, and controls the climate of the office ~ always calm, considerate, caring. Dr. Amanda L. Teter rounds out the DVM staff; she has returned from maternity leave and we are glad she is back. Additional office staff was busy helping in the background, so no photo op with them. What I can guarantee is that hidden away in this tiny hamlet is a veterinary practice with a very large heart, and I am blessed that they are a part of our lives.
Influenced by 21st century parlance, when I look for answers to my "picture perfect" approach to The Farm, I guess it's finally time to admit I am OCD Weeds. I hate them, but lucky for me and The Farm, I love to pull them because they butcher beauty. While I know that weeds are plants without a purpose, a weed is a weed, is a weed, is a weed and is dead on my farm. Speaking of butchering beauty, our person who cuts the grass had his zero turn mower platform off balance, so his guide wheel cut deep grooves into the grass I have so carefully cultivated over the years (couldn't he see what he was doing...). What gripes me is that he cut the areas I told him are mine to hand cut, so keep off. Didn't work.
Please let's not confuse him with the best crew ever, Michael and the men (a rock group in your future?). They made up for the butchering by making everything else picture perfect. Michael reminded me that the land would heal (better for the 4th family picnic; can you bully Mother Nature) and ultimately, it's all good (his mantra and I am beginning to buy in).
When the occasional car drives by, I notice that almost always it slows down and occupants look. It is then that I realize how beautiful the farm is, but like any form of beauty, natural or man-made, it requires constant attention. Aching muscles, long days, and acts of God that take shape in the form of severe weather events keep the men and me busy. For the occasional drive-by who must think what a pretty place, I often wonder if they can even begin to count the cost in human effort to keep it pristine.
A downed tree, never hard to find when you live in an open area, aka wind tunnel with no city shapes to cut the impact, can wreak havoc, not to mention cutting off the upper holding ponds and channels from attention until limb removal. Mickey and I thought we had one limb, but keener eyes (and Eric's non-allergy to poison ivy) proved one tree felled the limb of another, so two entangled removals. 
Luckily, my husband is freighted with tons of common sense, enough for us both, so he never sold the backhoe I so wanted him to ditch for more room in the big barn. Instead, he contracted for a second barn, keeping the backhoe just in case. In case happened this weekend, when Michael and Mickey decided the best, most effortless way to remove the wreckage was, you guessed it, the backhoe. It was also the best way to relocate a LOT of stones and move around and aerate the hay piles from last winter, now creating great mulch for my eventual garden. Llamas do make the best fertilizer.
With all the goings on with several frequently loud initiatives occurring simultaneously, you might wonder what the barn animals do. If the llamas do not feel threatened, they hold ground. But when the noise and equipment even begin to encroach, we relocate them to either upper pasture or the chute, for their own well-being and safety. Sometimes they move on their own or Miss Cierra's initiative, and sometimes I move them. Food is a great motivator. 
But the best in the barn for holding fast and true has to be Allie Cat, who imposes her own boundaries, the concrete pads, never moving beyond them. She is stolid, and only vehicular traffic in her barn will motivate her to upper ground upstairs in her hay loft.
Sometimes you miss the best photo ops, and one of them would have made a great film clip. Since I was on the hose, you will just have to imagine the scene. Michael and Eric are holding the plastic sheets, connected by a wooden frame at the top, that comprise the flexible "door" for the girls' stalls. Every summer, we take them down and the guys wash them. Someone has to hose them off--the plastic sheets, not the guys--but I managed to do both. It really does help in times like that to remember, "It's all good."
