Penny is a Blue Orpington, and a rather nicely conformed one at that. She is the oldest chicken on the farm and is here because of an accident actually. When I got the first chicks, 40 Blue, Black and Splash Orpingtons, I knew nothing about chickens and indeed was afraid of them, being traumatized as a tiny child spurred by a rooster in a coop. My phobia was something I was determined to overcome, so raising chickens was on my list of things I must do. As it turned out, Orpington chickens were not the sort I liked, though I did not like any, so in all fairness, they had no chance. Penny was terribly injured by the dogs when she flew over the fence and they ripped the skin and feathers from her back. At that time, the dogs were Anna and Joseph, two young Lassie collies, who did not know better yet. So, when the rest of the chickens went to the processor, Penny remained with the ducks. She wintered alone, perched above the ducks in a hoop shelter and it was a marvel she survived the cold winter, but she was hardy. She is a favourite of the roosters and she has also raised a brood of chicks.
When Sandra, the Speckled Sussex, came the following year, along with others, the two immediately bonded. Who said chickens do not have emotions and make friends? They certainly do, and these two pals are proof. They love to just be together, away from the flock, particularly away from the roosters. The farmhouse seems the perfect hangout to them, only I do not appreciate what they leave behind on the deck, so they have been banished back to the barnyard. They do sneak 'home' when the gate is left open and just make themselves comfortable in the cedar tree or on the deck. Both lay large pinkish eggs, but they are older hens and their production is much less now. They are good food converters and forage well, so as long as they are healthy, they can remain on the farm. Penny deserves that much, being the matriarch, and she also deserves her friend. Sweet hens, they are.

OK, I know it isn't officially spring, but the days have been so warm, that the snow is rapidly melting. The animals have come alive and are robust and full of joy. The little ewe Jacob, one of Stephen's daughters, jumps with pleasure when she is about to be fed, straight up into the air off all fours and so does her father, though she has never met him. 
The goats are playful and the ewes are relaxed as their bellies are growing with their little ones. But the ones that are the happiest are the birds. Cooped up all winter in two tiny buildings, only out to eat and drink and then back in to stay warm, they now have the run of the barnyard. The Ameraucanas love to hang out with the adult ewes and are in their pen, eating the Great Pyrenees dog meat and scratching through the sheep manure for worms or eggs or whatever they find there. One little hen found a composting pile with dirt on top, which was fully thawed and she was in Heaven, bathing herself in it. A duck fell asleep, soundly, on a pile of straw, abandoning all cares. Normally the Khaki Campbell ducks are a little flighty and getting close enough for a good picture is not so easy. The geese are searching for nesting areas, so I made three for them today. There are four females and I will have to come up with a fourth nest in the area for her. As a reward for their freedom, the hens laid a dozen eggs today. Thank you my little chickens! The problem with free range chickens, though, is they lay the eggs in strange places, like the straw pile or the hay bales. There were two duck eggs too and soon, it looks like the geese will start to lay as well. The bunnies will visit the buck and there will be little bunnies...oh the fun of spring is wonderful on a warm day. 

Goats do not like winter. They hate the snow and do not make paths readily, only going where they have to and back to their winter housing trying to stay warm. My little goats huddle two or even three together in plastic dog houses in their shelters, keeping each other warmer than just sleeping alone. Moms huddle with their last year's kids and those who are close friends sleep together, too.

Now that spring is certainly on its way, the weather is warmer and the goats have been sleeping outside on the wasted hay and yes, they surely do waste a tremendous amount. Each year, I try to find a new way to feed them, so they do not waste as much, though, so far, those attempts are not successful. I have recently seen and new feeder model that might just do the trick.

The little Nigerian Dwarf/Myotonic goats are so small and so adorable. They are two years old and still look like young kids. They have killed the pine tree that was in the pen. Goats love trees and will eat the needles of pine trees and the bark until the tree dies. The branches are strong though, and the goats use them as a play area. Today, they were playing hide and seek there, all running to hide and then when they are caught, running away and back again. I was trying to catch Cocoa, because she was making a strange noise while sleeping. I though she might have pneumonia or something, but I listened to her chest and checked her nose and eyes and she is clear. Maybe she was just singing herself to sleep. I am anxious to see what the Angora cross babies will be like this year. So far, tentative buyers have come early, but there  is not a deposit placed yet, so until there is, the goats are not considered sold. I learned the hard way that people do not honour their intentions when it comes to animals. If they have money on the animals, they will come back for them, but they have nothing to lose if they decide they do not want them at the last minute if they have not paid a deposit. So, I presell with deposits.

There is a slight possibility that the tiny Pygmy buckling bred some of the goats that were too small for the Angora. We will just have to wait for kidding time in May/June for the cuteness overload. Baby goats are sooooooooo cute! They will be getting their own playground this year and they will still have their hide and seek trees. What fun!

Dora, Olga and Lena (named after my mother and her sisters) were my very first sheep, three little Karakul lambs, who came out from Ontario along with 2 Canadienne cows and 6 Canadian horses. Of the three sheep, Olga was by far the most personable and friendliest. She always came for a hug and a scratch and she would often stay with the dogs, just being close to them. She was an exceptional mother too, with twins last year. 

The sheep were fine this morning, but when I went out later to water them, Olga was dead. She had stuck her head through the livestock panel and then through the fence wire. Leaning on the livestock panel forced her weight on the fence wire and she choked and died. I found her shortly after she expired, still warm and pliable, her eyes opened and her body distended and bloated. I am not sure she bloated because she hung herself, or she was bloated from acidosis or eating too much alfalfa she found as the snow thawed. Perhaps that was what she was trying to access through the fence wire. 

As with any animal death on the farm, the animal is opened to look for clues as to the death. Olga appeared to be in perfect health, but my heart broke when I realized she also lost her twins, about a month before they were due, two little girls. Olga was the sweetest sheep, and because of her, I fell in love with sheep and now have a lot of them. Olga will be sadly missed every day when I go to the pen to see the flock and do not see her coming to me. 

We think that sheep do not have emotions, but Olga's daughter stood and cried for her mother, calling to her. Olga's daughter is normally quiet and never heard. The other sheep also stood with the daughter and paid respects to Olga as I removed her body from the flock. My poor heart is broken. Good bye Olga and thank you for honouring me with your life. 

While I was giving Mamma Sheep and Llamas water, a white car pulled up to the gate. The man who got out the driver's side was wearing a uniform and the woman with him had a jacket identifying her place of work, Victim Services. The man was a Constable from the RCMP. He asked if they could see the bed and breakfast, but did not say why. Hmm, a police officer and Victim Services worker in official regalia asking to see the bed and breakfast with no explanation...I began to wonder. 

Of course, I invited them to drive up the driveway and park outside the B & B as I trailed behind walking. They were in good humour and friendly, but gave me no more inclination as to why they wanted to see the bed and breakfast. As I showed them around, the officer seemed very interested and viewed all the rooms. He asked about the capacity and prices of the rooms. Still with no indication as to why the official visit, I am now really wondering. Perhaps Victim Services got a complaint, but from whom? 

Then the officer explained that he was checking out the place on behalf of a member coming up tomorrow, who needed a place to stay for the weekend. Whew! He really loved the place too, as did the lady, who was along out of curiosity more than anything else, so she said. She was a sweetheart and he was very nice as well. He said now that he is familiar with the premises and since they are close to Elk Point and St. Paul, he would let the detachment know in both towns, that the bed and breakfast is lovely and welcoming.

Then we went outside and viewed the animals. The woman absolutely loved animals and said she wanted to be me. How flattering was that? I gave her a big hug. When I took them to see Dominique, the little lamb, Karin Llama was giving her kisses. Both of the guests very much enjoyed the farm and said they will come back to visit. Now, wasn't that a stellar end to the story?

It was always in the back of my mind. When I retired, I was going to own a bed and breakfast. My family and friends got used to me saying things like that, and they knew I usually made dreams come true, so they were not surprised when the time came that I was opening the bed and breakfast. The location was what shocked everyone. I left the beauty of the Pacific ocean and quaint little city of White Rock, BC, near Vancouver, for Elk Point. There is not much happening in this area if shopping is the number one pass time. Fashion and clothes are only moderately up to date. Glasses and accessories, like most everything else, are ten years behind the times.
But then, why Elk Point?
I did an internet search for the options I desired: a creek, barn, out buildings, two houses (one for me and the other for the bed and breakfast), highway access but privacy too, and services available. A few properties in my price range came up in northern BC, quite a few just north of Edmonton and more in the east. I did not want to move to the east coast, could not afford my first choice, Salt Spring Island, and so, I chose a farm in Thorhild county, an hour and a half north of Edmonton. That venture did not work out, after installing a well and power, because Waste Management was pushing a Class 1 landfill bordering my land. How could I have an organic orchard next to a dump? So, I searched again, found Elk Point, bought the farm and moved to it within 30 days.

A year later almost to that date, the bed and breakfast opened. The first year was poor with few guests, but I persevered and the second year, last year was quite good. This year, I expect to have double the guests of last year and so far, that is proving to be the case. Now, there are repeat customers, corporate accounts that send their people to the bed and breakfast regularly when in the area and even a few locals, such as the recent guests who were attending an 80th birthday party. It is quite wonderful!

I so much enjoy the guests and love to hear their stories, interact with them and share some of my own history if they ask. Currently the consultants from the Yukon are back for four nights, leaving tomorrow. They usually order dinners and sometimes bagged lunches and baking to go, so it keeps me hopping. They are great guys and I always look forward to serving them and chatting. Now, I feel as though they are my friends, too, and that is lovely. I can't think of anything I would rather be doing at this juncture in my life. The social interaction of the bed and breakfast, the pleasant care taking of the livestock on the farm and soon, the permaculture orchard and gardens, are the goals I had set for my retirement. Two are underway and functioning well, and the permaculture gardening will be implemented this year. For the next 10 years, I plan to run this way and when I am 70, I may actually retire. Until then, tally ho, let's go! Such fun, such fun.

Robbie is an amazing dog, especially intelligent, independent and very loving. After my faithful old girl was gone, Josie, my last border collie of fourteen years, there was a gap in my life. Living without a border collie is not the same as having one around. They are, without a doubt, the most intelligent and beautiful dogs of all, in my opinion. I started viewing litters of border collies, with a mind to find another little lady, who would be my best friend, but when I visited Robbie's litter, the little fellow came up to me, looked at me with an inquisitive gaze, left and came back about a half a dozen times. He chose me and I had to bring him home.

He was the cleverest puppy, mastering the potty training in a few days. The only thing is, he does not bark to go outside, something I am still working on with him. The boundless energy he had the first two years was incredible and like an ADHD child, he did not know where to channel it. We tried herding sheep, but he just wanted to chase them. I found that he was bred from a long line of cattle dogs, which explained why he would come from the front and bite the noses rather than go from behind. So, we have been learning off the grid, so to speak, by training with sticks and toys first, then transferring those skills to herding. Getting him to slow down was a challenge. Instead, I have taught him to sneak and not touch it, it being the stick or the ball. He literally shakes when he gets so close, but he does not touch it. Now he will sneak up to the sheep from behind, though he still wants to herd them off at the pass and chase them from the front. But, he is learning. He knows a variety of commands now, go back, this way, that way, which are the same as away to me and come by used by professional herders and their dogs. I have been giving him arms signals with the this way and that way, and he knows them, but getting him to pay a quick glance when he is with the sheep is another issue. For a nearly two year old he is well started and on his way.

He loves agility too and with the farm, he has a natural agility course. He can jump over my head from bale to bale at a distance of about 6 feet across. He know up and down and back, left and right. I can speak quietly to him to go find his ball or stick or toy and he will remember exactly where he left it and go get it, sometimes clear across the yard. He herds the chickens with me and chases the goat back to her pen. He can stand down a ram down, too. Robbie stays on his mat when he is told to and will go to bed as well if he is asked. He is forbidden near the table and will not beg for food, though given a chance to have some, he won't turn it down. Now he has found his place in the pack too, once trying to be the alpha, but succumbing to Harley, who lets Robbie rule until he decides to. Robbie knows that Harley is king and does not push him anymore. But he is second in command and even Ofcharka gives him a wide berth when he puts his ears back and starts growling.

He is a pleasure to have as a pet and a wonder as far as dogs go. And, best of all, he now comes 99% of the time when he is called. I love that dog!

If there is one thing that ducks love, it is water and with the warm temperatures, the snow is turning into puddles. The ducks love that! They are in their glory splashing  and dunking and playing in the water, but today, they were able to get some mud at the bottom, so they were extra ecstatic.
The big Rouen drake was out taking his ladies for a walk about. There were puddles everywhere to their absolute delight and of course, they sampled them all. The geese decided to venture further and went out to the driveway on the other side of the fence, but the snow has not turned into puddles there yet, so they ambled back. The goose sold as the male Saddleback Pomeranian is female and one of the females is a male. That was quit evident today, because geese love to mate in shallow water. The gander from last year did not want to share any of the ladies, though, and quickly turfed the newcomer out. The one that was supposed to be the gander is nesting, but she will have to relocate because where she wants to be is not a safe place out of the elements. In a few days, the barrel nests will be able to be moved and she will have a great place to lay her eggs and have little ones. It is so wonderful to enjoy the warm temperatures after that bitterly cold winter. Yup, spring has sprung.

Late last summer, I bought 11 Ancona ducklings from a local person. There were of various ages, and only 2 survived, a male and a female. The male died in the bitter cold winter, curled up under his wing and simply frozen, but the female is strong and healthy. She does mix well with the other ducks though.There are Khaki Campbells, Rouens, Saxonys and Muscovys, but she tends to be on her own quite a bit. I would love to find her a mate and raise some more Ancona ducks. Last summer, the Ancona ducks ate more flies than any of the other breeds, hands down. For that reason alone, I would like to raise them, because on a farm, there are always too many flies. They are really pretty and apparently are great egg layers too. Hopefully, she will start to lay soon and I can find her a mate. Isn't she pretty?

Jenna is a year and a half old. She is a rescue dog and was abused by a man when she was very small. She is still very small for a Maremma and very shy. She will not go near a man, even one she has known for some time, one who loves dogs very much. She can not allow herself that much pain ever again.

But today it was spring. It was blue skies, big skies and she was high, high on the top of the hay bales. Jenna smiles when she sees me, sees her saviour, the one who loves her, protects her and cares for her. She smiles and she is happy and today, a warm day when the snow was melting, Jenna was smiling and melting my heart too. We should be so fortunate to touch the life of another living creature, to gain their trust and to be loved as we love them. How could she not smile when she was on top of her world today? Jenna is a beautiful dog in the big blue Alberta sky. She is.