Something is killing my birds. I was gloating for a while because the dogs do such a great job of keeping any predators away, that there had been no losses at all, other than illness or accident. Then, without warning, something killed a Muscovy duck and ate her neck only. That predator did not come back the next day, or if it did, it took its prey away. The next day and every day thereafter, it has come back and killed and eaten the neck of mostly ducks, probably because they are on the ground and very easy to catch compared to chickens, but it also has gotten two chickens. I have set a trap and reset it too, but I do not actually know what I am trying to catch. 

Predators that eat the neck only are Great Horned owls, mink and sometimes weasels, though they usually prefer to puncture the throat and suck the blood of not just one, but several animals at a time. Skunks and racoons also may be the culprits, but the larger the animals, the less likely it is that they would penetrate the defense the dogs offer. They are formidable when working in their pack. 

I have a friend with a wildlife camera who offered to set it up for me, but he has not yet shown up. Another friend offered to set traps, other than my live trap that I have already set, and he also has not shown. Good intentions, but no follow through as of yet does not help me. In the meantime, a dozen birds hare gone, or rather the necks of the birds are gone and the rest is in tact, but of course dead, dead dead. 

What to do? I will call my friend with the camera again and try to get that set up so I know at least what it is and what time to expect it. The camera has a clock that shows exactly what time the motion is detected and the filming starts. That tool would be excellent, but if he is too busy now to help, I will just go and buy one, as I am sure it would come in beneficial in the future too. My poor little birdies. I feel so sorry for them being terrorized and eaten, blood spilled and bodies munched right before their eyes. Tonight I locked them in the coops. That could be good or bad. If it is a weasel, they can fit through very tiny openings and since the birds have no escape being locked in, the weasel could kill many. If it is a larger predator, he will have to bust through wire to get in and that might cause commotion enough to bring the dogs, and I did leave the pen gate wide open so they can move easily without having to jump in. No fence can keep them out if they want to go in. They jump. Good dogs. Now, let's get that predator so we can relax again. 

It is common and traditional to start the new year off with a resolution to perform better, but I am not doing that. Once I made a resolution not to eat any French fries for a year and I did stick to it quite easily. Now, I am thinking of a broader scope, not so self serving, yet something that comes rather easily. It won't be a resolution, nor a goal, but something entirely different and I do encourage you to join in. 

What I propose is a happy jar. Instead of beating yourself up for breaking your resolution and finally giving up, feeling guilty and defeated, switch over to positive thinking. Make a resolution to do something or think something kind each day. The more memorable moments can be written on a slip of paper and placed in your happy jar. Random acts of kindness, moments where you felt compassion, small deeds you volunteered unselfishly, and any other events that came to your life for 2015 which you created the happiness, not from which you were given happiness through something else…those moments need to go into the happy jar and next year be read. Or they can be read when you are feeling down and defeated and worthless as a lift in your life throughout the year. 

My plan is to make some one else happy, not tell about it, and if I feel it was a good thing, put the moment on paper and place it in my happy jar. So, instead of making a resolution, which I most likely won't stick to, then chastise myself for having such poor resolve, I will be making some one else happy and patting myself quietly on the back at the same time. This seems to be a better idea than the traditional resolution. The key, though, is to keep those special moments to yourself and not brag or share them. The reasoning behind that is that, although the happy bits are ultimately for yourself, they benefit others too, though by boasting, the act of kindness could become a boost to your pride instead of a feather in your cap. So, do, and tell no one, except yourself of course and next year, if you want to share your happy jar moments with a loved one, feel free to do so. Maybe you will encourage another and he will encourage another and so on. 

Let's go. One more day to the start of the happy jar. Oh, and have a stellar 2015. I have a feeling it is going to be a wonderful year for you. 

I have been quite philosophical lately. With the new lack of privacy policy upcoming in the new year on Facebook, I have elected to opt out of social media. My children are the reason I fist embarked on Facebook, but the advertising for the Inn sort of grew from there. I don't believe the benefits outweigh the deficits though and here is why. 

I see a huge and growing number of folks who are disconnected from life. They need to report to the computer what they are doing almost minute by minute, complete with photographs. I am not referring to the simple one special moment in a day or a photograph of an unusual or very incredible event, but day to day living. What they had for breakfast, where they are at 10 am, where they are shopping and for what and everything, every post, has a picture, many of them selfies. The friends list is huge, yet they actually have never met most of those people. That is what I think is seriously wrong. 

What happened to the real socializing, the evening playing cards with friends without the phone by your side and the urgent need to check and see if there is a message from some one far away that you don't even know?  What happened to stopping for coffee and sitting in a shop, taking a 15 minute break from the bustle of driving in the city and the traffic and business of life? Who goes into a shop and sits there anymore? That is one of my favourite memories as a teenager. A group of us used to skip classes and spend an hour or two at the Drift Inn Cafe on Johnston Street drinking coffee. I don't know how they put up with us! Of course, we were respectful, however; we did occupy space that real paying customers who would possibly order food would take. Anyhow, those days seem to be gone and the sad part is that the kids growing up today won't even know they existed. 

But I do. 

And so, it is timely that Facebook is becoming a conglomerate and using people now. It gives me the incentive to leave. I have been weaning myself from it for weeks now, instead going back to making things in the evenings and reading more, not on the computer, but from a real book. The blog will continue though and I hope you will stay with me as I journey onward. My venture here in nowhere land on a 160 acres of paradise is a saga of inspiring and challenging events about to unfold. There is no time to be lonely here. I am excited to begin the projects and watch them come to fruition and completion and will keep you posted of the successes and heart breaks. 

One thing though. I hope you will consider doing the same, that is, divorcing yourself from consumerism, the need to shop and the need to perform and the need to impress and just be yourself, wherever you are. It is freeing and enlightening at the same time. Ahhhh. 

I didn't understand my mother as she got older when she said it was just another day, but I do now. When the need to make others happy is no longer precedent in one's life, that is when the children are grown and gone and well on their own, when the significant other is no longer in the picture one way or the other, when each day is just like the next or previous, then it is just another day. For me, it is such at this time. 

I did not go shopping, for there was no need. Christmas gifts are unnecessary and Christmas needs are addressed instead. My adult children have discussed what would help them through this season and have been provided for or will be soon, when we see one another. The critters outside will get an extra special ration of something tasty to celebrate the Yule, the coming of the days of light and leaving behind the dark nights. Cold is on its way, down in the minus 20s and lower. January is traditionally the coldest month of winter in this northern country. Extra straw and provision for protection against the wind will be made so the animals can stay alive. 

And for me, in my little farmhouse, I will be busy making more soap and finally sorting through some clothes. Using the furnace this winter has kept the dirt floored basement warm enough to work in and there is much to do before spring. I have some cupboards to paint for the store too and if they will fit down the narrow staircase in the trap door, I can do that as well. My heart is full of joy and I am at peace. This I wish for each and every one of you, this coming year and the years following that. Merry Christmas, or whatever you celebrate at this time of year! Have a most wonderful day!

Reminiscing about my years gone by, I sit and contemplate the Christmases past. Oh my! This is Christmas Eve. It would be the last day at school, a half day most likely. The children would not all be in attendance, but the teachers are docked pay if they go amiss without solid proof that illness was the cause, so they are there, babysitting until the noon hour bell. Then a very brief coffee with baked goods  some fine souls brought in to share will be enjoyed before all the teachers and staff, too, embark on the trek home. 

I would have finished possibly three elementary school Christmas concerts at the three different schools where I was the music teacher. I would have started collecting songs and preparing the script for the concerts, adpated to the students special skills and talents, much earlier, in September. The teaching of the songs, committed to memory, would begin early in October and once learned, the songs would be rehearsed practicing the moving required. Costumes would be chosen and instructions sent home with the kids. Some kids would not have a costume, so I would have to ensure there were extras around to make up for that. A few kids would be removed for religious or non religious reasons and a few more for early holiday trips. True rehearsals would involve the entire elementary school, as I often also taught songs and carols to the kids not on my case load schedule so there were included. 

Finally the big days would arrive. Some schools would not have evening concerts, while others wanted exclusively evening venues. My time was not important to them, though they were appreciative and grateful when the parents commended the principal on the fine concerts. Letters came in the mail extolling the virtues of the concerts, mostly from attending grandparents and sometimes, the newspapers would attend and do a feature. One of my inner city schools had a huge Asian population and the music these children created was special. In my last years, I was able to have an orchestra, not a band, with experts in violin, cello, string bass and piano, plus a few brass virtuosos. 

At home, I would have been busy baking for the upcoming two important days. Friends and family would come for a traditional meatless Ukrainian Christmas eve supper with perogies, cabbage rolls, nelisniki, wheat and so much more. On Christmas Day, family and a few close friends would come again for a lavish turkey dinner. Usually the preparation and clean up was entirely on my shoulders, that is until my daughter got old enough to offer her help. Occasionally she shamed the boys into giving her a hand, though we all knew they considered that women's work, though that idea is one that did not originate with me, since I was a single parent for most of the children's lives and all work, inside and out, was my work. 

The various businesses that I owned were always closed from Christmas Eve to the day after Boxing Day, so there was a respite there. I would open a few day in between Christmas and New Year's and work in the business and also go there after school for most days as well. Some ventures, such as interior design and being a florist, had me working long hours into the evenings. I still found time to craft and create at home, making home made soaps, lotions, and other various body products, floral arrangements and I would sew sometimes grand projects for my family. 

On Boxing Day, family may or may not have come by for more feasting. By this time, I would be feeling the drain of the holidays and would be glad to go to work in my business where I could tie up loose ends before the new year.

Now, compare this to the quaint, quiet and mundane existence here on the farm, where I go to do chores for three or four hours a day, and have the remainder of the day to play with wool , or make soap or write, read and play the piano and sing. I have made some friends here, not many, but this year, for the first time, am invited to other's celebrations on both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. My son whom lives with me is away at camp working so the others with families can be home. The youngest son is spending Christmas with his partner's family and my daughter will come after Christmas, just before going to Australia for three years. The farm will be quiet and peaceful. 

And the farm is where my heart is, here with my big dogs, the sheep and goats and the other critters. I lovingly attend to their needs daily, enjoying the pristine air and silence of the forest surrounding me. There is no need to struggle with 450 children, their parents and 100 teachers, to coodinate schedules, to accept orders and returns, to go shop, well, there is no urgency to do anything. I like that. I love it. 

Have a very blessed day, whatever it means to you. May you find it in your heart to see the beauty in all, to love what you cannot understand and cherish what you can, to face the New Year with anticipation as a tiny child would seeing a birthday cake with his name on it. May this holiday season bring you the peace and joy I possess in my heart and may you love and be loved. Merry Christmas!

Soapmaking is so much fun!

All of the soaps I have made for this master batch are milled, which means the original soap was cooked, cooled and cut, grated, and let to rest, then remelted with additional liquid and other ingredients, then molded to create bars of soap. The bars must cure for an additional 8 weeks or more, the longer the better, since the water will evaporate, leaving a superior bar of hard soap. The master batch was the batch I made last week that separated in the oven during the cold process/oven process. I quickly had to get the soap out of the molds, as it was leaking oil from separating and literally cook it and stir by hand, after burning out not one, but two hand blenders. It took almost three hours from start to finish and made a wonderful gentle lotion like soap. Milk soaps are known for the mild exfoliating qualities that leave the skin feeling smooth and silky. The base of these bars was milk and lard with castor and Meadowfoam oils. After Christmas, another master batch of a different formulation will be created and then the soaps will be milled from the original soap, just as these were. See, soapmaking is so mcuh fun!

There were two very late hatches, just before the snow. I was worried that the little ones would not survive, but by the time it got truly cold, they had their feathers and a better chance of survival. 

The hen perched for self preservation. If the chickens do not roost for the night, they run the risk of their toes and feet freezing. But, because she perched, one of the little ones, who did not understand how to get up on the perch, though there is a ladder, froze her feet solid and she had to be put down. Four of the babies have suvived and thrived. The mother is a bantam cross with quite a few breeds in her background, the dominant head tuft derived from a Silkie. The eggs were fertilized by the Ameraucana rooster and the result is that the babies all have various degrees of the mufffy face. The light buff pullet is a result of the Japanese Bantam influence a generation ago. The Ameraucana rooster was a splash, that is black and white feathers as though some one had spashed him with paint. He is, no was, a big rooster who went into the soup pot and was replaced with new blood from a different line far away. 

What I love about the chickens now, is that the way they will turn out is not predicatable. There are enough different colours and featherings in their backgrounds that almost anything is possible. I have kept those that were exceptionaly foragers and the hens that were broody and raised their own clutch of babies, saving me the incubation and brooding troubles. This self perpetuating flock, then serves the farm with meat and eggs and continually renews itself, as in the old days. I should not need to introduce new birds except the roosters, to keep the blood lines fresh. The birds are also excellent flyers and can easily fly up to the top of the elm tree which is at least 20 feet high. That is a desired trait for free range birds who need to escape from predators, however, there are so many livestock guardians that protect the entire farm, that predators have not been seen for several years. 

I am looking forward to the bringing back of the light and the eggs that the birds will produce. Thank you little birdies for your work at The Fat Ewe Farm and for your lives. You are beautiful!

Tonight is a very special night. It is the winter solstice, an evening that has been celebrated for eons by people all over the planet. It is the basis for the Christmas celebrations, with most symbols now accepted as Christian, once being from the pagan customs. Many people believe pagan to mean witch craft and evil, but it is the opposite. The pagans revered the Earth as their mother and wished to protect her. They coveted nature and celebrated on this night, the return of the light after a dark time. It is the first day of winter and the last day of the long nights. 

But this night, the 21st of December is a very special night. Some scholars say it is the longest night in thousands of years or possible in all of history, while others say it is only since 1912, when the longest night occurred then. However it is, one thing for sure, is that the night is long and from now on, the days will be lengthening and the nights becoming shorter. Here in the north, in the middle of summer, the days are very long with only  a few hours of true night and even then it is not very dark,not dark like this winter's night. 

This night, I will purify my home with sage, burning it and sending the pyres of smoke throughout the little hovel, asking the spirits who are not here in love, to leave. I will smudge the smoke over my spirit too and then light a candle and give thanks to our mother, whom I believe is a sentient being, just as we are, and has a soul or spirit. Then I will thank the Creator for the sage and the light and the end of the darkness, looking forward to a new year filled with the love and joy that comes with the light. 

Happy Solstice my friends. Blessings to you in the light filled year to come. 

Mike is a Maremma and Great Pyrenees cross. He came to the Fat Ewe Farm along with his brother in June last year, making him a year and a half old. He was just five weeks when he arrived, earlier than expected, because his mother was hit and fatally killed by a car the night before he came here. Mike was shy right from the start and let Joe lead the way, but slowly as he is maturing, he is finding his own place in the pack. Joe still tries to steal food from him, but now Mike turns one lip up and gives him a growl and Joe shows him respect. He does not challenge the other dogs, but is no longer turning on his back and showing his belly, which is a sign of subservience. 

Mike was raised in the sheep pen with the sheep, first a group of younger lambs and then the older ewes. He was watched extremely close and only once did the two pups cause a real problem when they used a lamb's ears as chew toys. The lamb was really unharmed, but I am sure she suffered a great deal of pain when those puppy teeth penetrated her declicate ears. The lamb was removed from their area and they were severely reprimanded. They have not done anything esle untoward the sheep. 

Mike tends to spend more time near the sheep than Joe, placing himself on a bale or near the pen where he san survey his charges, however; he also is now part of the pack and goes on the pack walk about with the other big males (the females generally stay home and guard the yard). They mark their terriotory and check for violations and sometimes they hunt. They brought home a young deer in several bits and pieces, either one shot or hurt by someone, or one they killed. It would be nothing for the pack of big dogs to take a deer down. Usually, not even a bunny or squirrel come into their territory or they will chase them away immediately. Killing is not their first choice, though they will kill to defend the farm. 

Mike is gentle giant. He sits when he is spoken to, as he was taught as a youngster, and loves to be petted and to be near me. I love that dog! I was thinking the other day, that if I had to chose to keep only one dog, it would, of course be Robbie, my faithful constant companion border collie, but I would have a very hard time deciding between any of the others. Each is unique and brings so much joy to my life. Life without dogs is just not the same. I am grateful for these protectors that would lay thier lives down to keep the farm safe. They put a smile on my face every single day.