Feeling Bucolicky

Someone said to me recently (I almost said "today", but it could have been last week, it blends)
 "You have done a lot to give your children a bucolic upbringing."
My first thought was "What a lovely word, that, 'bucolic'."
My second thought was "Most of the word 'bucolic' is 'colic', a painfully debilitating, potentially deadly intestinal emergency in horses. Also, the term given to acute digestive pains in babies, causing them to cry incessantly."
Does not sound like something for which I will recieve any thanks from my children. "Thanks for the bucolicky upbringing, Mom."
Then, again, do we ever really properly thank our parents for the decisions they made in an effort to maximally benefit our childhoods?
Did I ever thank my parents properly for the freedom of my horses, my own underage NYC career, or building my sister her own room so I didn't have to share a bed any longer?
Did my suburban friends get around to saying "Thanks for the summer nights when you let me play 'Ghost in the Graveyard' with the neighborhood kids, Mom."
And my city friends?
"Thanks for letting me hang out at the bodega eating chips and playing pacman, Mom."  (Okay, I'm sure I have a city-raised friend, but I'll admit their childhood experiences are beyond my imaginative capabilities.) The point is, I don't expect I'll ever get a proper shout out of appreciation from my kids, but that doesn't seem to stop my periodic agonizing that one day soon, they'll move out and find out they don't like cleaning chicken coops, and it isn't a requirement of the US Government.
Will they wonder what in the world I was thinking? Or, by raising them out here in the cornfields of rural Ohio, have I saddled them with the same love of pasture and crickets and frozen water buckets and wood smoke and open windows that wove into my fiber as I grew at Puckihuddle?
I suppose, with any luck, I'll find out.

Pony Club Camp

Photo credit : Jennifer Hilaman

As summer speeds on, I fondly look back to summers where I had time to can pickles, and use the dog to push on with my foot and swing the hammock, while my babies curled next to me and we re-read Ferdinand.
This blog is meant to chronicle what life is like at Cowfeathers, and there is no way to do that and actually blog, as sitting in front of the computer is not on the calendar. And as everyone around here now knows; "If it's not on the calendar, it isn't happening."
But there are too many exciting things to not share the highlights with my family and friends- and a handful of strangers from Russia. So, missed highlight of June.....
Pony Club Camp.
12 hours after moving out of The Fair, Middlest and I loaded up Patches, the horse, and headed for Dayton for 5 days of Pony Club Camp. Now, as my oldest friends will know, I was a long term "Pony Clubber." And enjoyed the heck out of it, but we had nothing like this week of camp in my Pony Club experience. It was held at Twin Towers Park, essentially a horse park, with two dressage arenas, a show jumping arena and an excellent and diverse cross country course. They also have a large barn where the " ponies" were put up in style. Across the arenas and down the hill, over yonder,  is a kitchen and an actual bathroom. Kinda a hike in the middle of the night, but our Pony Club had sprung for a porta-potti close to the barn and trailers. For this is where we stayed. The rest of the moms and kids had campers, or horse trailers with "living quarters"- that is to say, a horse trailer/camper. I opted to stay in the  peace and quiet of my horse trailer's tack room. I tricked it out with a fridge and microwave, and a fan, a queen air mattress in the goose neck extention,  and, in the trailer area in back, a clothes drying, face washing, tooth brushing station.  I even, with the magic of Scotch adhesive Velcro, rigged screen over the door to the tack room, so no bugs! In all, not roughing it. Some were worried I'd cook, but with the fan, it was fine. Indeed, for two of the days, the weather was so cool, I was glad for my pajamas and comforter. And, after the busy week of the fair, it was lovely to have down time, reading Shogun by the light of my cellphone. Middlest was invited to share a pull out couch in a deluxe air conditioned camper with her friends, and my set up was not a contender after that. She deserted me immediately. Much of the week, I only waved to her, took her picture and periodically got close enough to grab a hug. The important part was she was learning a lot, and having fun.

Photo credit: Jennifer Hilaman

The instructor for the week was Mimi Combs, Olympic level Eventer, out of Charlottesville. She has come up to instruct our Pony Club camp many times from what I gather, and all the kids were very comfortable with Mimi. My kid only knew her as "Mimi", and in order to minimize any anxiety or unnecessary intimidation, it wasn't until we were driving back to Cowfeathers that I filled Middlest in on Mimi's credentials. This made her feel really great that her week had gone so well.

The accommodations for the ponies.

Mrs. Stalter and her husband had made these awesome kits so each kid could assemble their own groom box. Which they then painted. Clever, useful, an A++ project!

A traditional event at camp is the "Painted Ponies" contest. Each team chooses one of their horses, and decorates him or her up with a theme. Middlest's team chose to decorate Hawkeye with a Buckeye theme. (It's an Ohio State thing...)

This team decorated Mickey with a sunset on one side, and a sunrise on the other. Tropical Paradise!

These girls dressed Zac for bed; "It's Pasture Bedtime"...harhar!

And, Tupelo got lipstick and a crown to become a bedazzled "Miss Hunters Run Pony Club".

Not all just fun and games, they also had just fun! Cross country lessons were Middlest's favorite. Here Anna and Zorro jump down into the dry pond.

Middlest's green body armor vest makes her easier to spot.

Patches and Middlest showed off, jumping the ditch. This is a tricky kind of fence, because, as you can see, it doesn't look like much until you're right on top of it. Then the horse realizes it is a scary chasm into the earth. Only Patches didn't find it too intimidating. Not so for some of the others who saw no reason to go over when you can simply go around!

Young's Dairy is a local Jersey Farm, but it is also the hot spot for evening ice cream! The club journeyed out for sweets, and then to visit our little shut in- one of our team who had suffered a nasty fall (that sounds so passive...a naughty pony bucking until she flipped off is more accurate) earlier in the day and was being held at the hospital overnight.

By the time we had all snuck into the hospital to bolster spirits, it was rather late. Middlest turned out to be a comfy-ish pillow for a zonked out kiddo.

Next morning was more cross country lessons.
Photo credit: Jennifer Hilaman

And, it is a good idea to learn how to fall properly, so Middlest gave it a shot. She did rather well, considering. Did not manage to hold onto the reins, but a cooperative Patches was easily and quickly caught by Middlest and she was back on. The unseating was brought on by a bird flying out of a otherwise inanimate fence. Poor Patch got startled!
Photo credit: Jennifer Hilaman

But it was just a little bump in the road, and they had a wonderful time.

In the heat of the afternoon, a few of us snuck out between lessons for a cool down in the community pool. But not a break from riding. Here the girls play "Kelly and Greatness" their new bucking bronco game.

The bulk of the Pony Club Campers pose on one of the cross country fences. The girls on the top are spelling "HRPC" for Hunters Run Pony Club. This was not a foreign concept for them, as at an early age all Ohio children are well versed in body spelling "OHIO"...it's an Ohio State thing.

I would caption this, but I'm not sure what to say.
Photo credit: Jennifer Hilaman

Camp brings strong friendships. Middlest hugs K.VW. whose post-camp adventure was tripping to Peru on a mission.

My Middlest Fashion Plate, in the belted Ohio State football jersey. The last night of camp.

But not the last lesson! They snuck in one more the next day. Here Mimi is explaining to Middlest (out of lens view to the right) how she wants her to take her corner and apporach the fence. Next to Mimi is the hard working, and now, well tanned fearless leader of the HRPC.

What a great week! We're already looking forward to camp next year. Only, I might not mind if we had more than 12 hours to prepare in 2013...

Finally, Finn-ish The Fair!

Okay, okay, The Fair is old news. We have done so much since then, so much that sitting in front of the computer telling folks about it is not an option. Pony Club Camp, Ambassador work at Livestock Judging Camp, Mike (horse) taken to a barn to be ridden, and hopefully sold, 3 days without electricity (not too much of a hardship for us, as we don't air condition, but the real story for me was trying to get fuel!), a dressy affair for the OSU Veterinary Resident Banquet- prepared for sans electricity, two 4th of July Parades for the band kids, a 4th of July party, a trip to the Orthopedist to be proclaimed "HEALED!" of the broken scapula...now just the challenges in the shoulder separation, my 44th birthday, a week long vacation with the entire contingent of in-laws, all 19, and then back, to Cowfeathers. Oh, how I wish I could say I was going nowhere and doing nothing of consequence for a while.
But, I feel like I need to put a finish on The Fair, as this year was a unique one for our family. It was the first time in our eight years of county-fairing that the kids sold animals in the ring that were off to market. At our fair, the show is "terminal". Meaning, if you show a "market" animal, it isn't going home with you. They leave on a truck. There are two ways of getting on the truck. The first way is to chose to send your animal by "packer bid". This means that the company that had the highest bid to take those animals to slaughter collects the animals, usually in the very early morning, right out of their pens, and off they go. The child who brought the animal to the fair gets paid by the pound for their animal.
The second way to get on that truck is "through the ring". This means that the child takes his turn walking the animal around in the ring while the auctioneer "sells" the animal to a bidder. The bidder can opt to actually get the meat from that animal, and will pay the packer for the processing of the animal, but most bidders are mostly there spending money just to support the community. Local businesses, big and small, come sit in the stifling arena for a very long day in the heat spending money. The highest bid gets then paid to the child showing the animal, as well as the packer bid amount. For instance, Youngest's hog had a packer bid of $0.70? (I think) a pound. Our feedstore, Faler Feed (see previous blog about Faler's) was the high bidder on Youngest's hog. So, Youngest will get the amount generously bid by Dave Winecoop from Faler Feed, plus the packer bid of $0.70 per pound. Eventually, Youngest will get a check from the Sales Committee for the final amount. Then, we will check this against all the receipts for the purchase price of the hogs and the feed and the dewormer, and see if he made any money!

Each child can choose only one animal to send "through the ring". The other market animals they bring to fair will all go by "packer bid". Youngest chose to take Willis through the ring, thus Wilbur disappeared in the night on Thursday of The Fair. Youngest had tears and sadness that night, sorry to see Wilbur for the last time. By Saturday, which is Sale Day, he was resigned to the task before him, and was chin up for the whole process.

 Youngest, parading around the ring with Willis, bemused by the whole process, one pant leg in and one pant leg out. If Mereth is reading this, she will remember Randleigh Dairy's Charlie, who had the same routine.

 Youngest in the ring with the auctioneer in that loud, staccato, number gibberish voice getting folks to raise their hand and spend some money on the boy.

The Sheep Kids of Saddle and Sirloin 4-H Club!

 Sheep were late in the order of the day for sale. This is particularly unfortunate, as most bidders give up after several long hours of sweating, and they've spent their money anyway. Middlest seemed to be holding it together, but February was a special pal, and hers from birth. It wasn't going to be easy. As a family we tried to surround her and support her, but she was rather snarly. She seemed to do better with her friends, and ones that have been through the experience before were the ones  she chose to help her through.

Middlest with February, almost time for the sale. Mother can see how close the tears are in this photo.

Showing him off like a champ! To a very sparse crowd.

But, always there with support for showmanship, Mr. Johnson of Johnson Land and Cattle Co. was also there with support in purchasing February. Thank you to the Johnsons!

And that was the fair. We packed our stuff right up, and at 11 pm collected Finn, the remaining ewe- Grand Champion Breeding Sheep, don'cha know! Also the first and second place fancy chickens, and the second place fancy ducks,  piled it all onto the truck, crates and boxes and feathers flying and baaaing, and headed home, just like the Clampetts in The Beverly Hillbillies.

In 12 hours, Middlest and I headed out again, with the horse this time, to spend 5 days at Pony Club Camp. No time for mourning sheep, we've got riding to do!

Day 3- The Fair. Gazpacho and hogs.

A Fair Wednesday.

Usually one of our lighter show days, with the advent of Wilbur and Willis- the hogs, it became just another busy day at The Fair.

The day began in the Grange building, where the miscellaneous project judging was being held in foods and the creative arts. Five projects out of our household were to be judged in the morning. Eldest was up first with her offering from the project " You're the Chef!". She has taken a food project yearly for many years and has become somewhat disenchanted by the material in the project books. This year was no exception. The first element in the project was to go to the store and buy a meal from the deli and serve it for dinner. It was expensive, tasteless and unappetizing to look at...my own dietary restrictions meant I was saved from having a taste-test opinion, but that meal, served in January, brought a long drought on her interest in the project. A few weeks before the fair, no progress had been made, and she was wanting to drop the whole thing. I looked through the book, and really couldn't blame her. So, I encouraged her to change the project up- make it worth her while, learn something. Since her career interest right now is in the medical field, she decided to take each section, disregard the project entirely, and re-write her own way, choosing a different medical related dietary choice for each one. She then researched the nutritive needs for each medical condition and re-wrote the menus to reflect the need. So, she did diets for low-salt requirement as in heart and kidney disease, a diet for diabetes, celiacs disease and so on. The meals she made were tasty and quite edible. For judging, they are to show up with one dish, plus a table setting and menu for the entire day, plus a cost-analysis per serving.

For her judging she made a fresh summer berry gazpacho, with a reduction of Riesling and fresh mint- fruity, light and delicious. She served it picnic style, with a whole grain baguette, aged Gouda cheese and summer sausage. As she assembled the required items the night before judging, she said "I don't know why I'm doing this! The judge is going to hate it. It isn't even close to the project I signed up for!" Rare negativity from Eldest, but I think she had really invested part of herself, and was preparing for the possibility of going out on a limb, and having it cut off.

We arrived just as the judging was to start. I saw a man in a chef's jacket and pants settling himself at the far table. On the placket of his coat it says "Berger Health Systems"- the chef for the local hospital! I pointed him out, and said " Darling, if you get him as a judge, he's gonna love it!" She came back from judging with rave reviews. He had told her he was very impressed.

Next one of mine up at the chef's table? Youngest with his offering of salsa and blue corn chips from his project "Party Planner". He had set up his table (cloth strewn in a lump across the center, bowl of chips) and sat, not-so-patiently waiting for the chef to finish with the child on the other judging table and eating the chips surreptitiously under the table. But let me tell you, the kid can talk.

Middlest had the competition in the large contingent of scrapbookers. She had made a scrapbook of our spring break trip to Maryland. The book is a sweet little joy of color and praise for my parents beautiful home and menagerie.

And when the judgement came down? Eldest pulled in first place and the state fair representative seat for "You're the Chef!", and second place in the Scrapbooking project. Her scrapbook was one she made for her best friend as a high school graduation gift. I sure hope the girls are friends forever, because that book will be a great thing to pull out on a "girl's trip" to Kansas City in 2042.

And, Youngest earned a second place for his bowl of chips and salsa- but more for his efforts at party planning and party throwing!

As afternoon rolled on, it was time for the hog-rodeo to begin! The pig show is an extravaganza. 20 classes of pigs with about 14-16 pigs per class. Youngest's pigs were about mid-weight, so were in class 13 and class 16. He got dooded up in his Texas-starched shirt, jeans, boots and belt buckle featuring a  black and white enamel Hampshire hog. Dee-luxe.  He informed me that this meant someone else needed to bathe his hog just before entering the arena (already bathed twice today, but it is a hog...).

I thought this seemed like a nice job for Huz, my toes inside my wet boots just beginning to unwrinkle. Karma is a little devil. Just after I took this photo, a chestnut red  Duroc hog came wandering down the wash aisle. As she sauntered past, she started spraying poop like a sprinkler. It shot up right over the white-ish wall and across it with each step she took. To my dismay I realized when she reached the end of the wash rack she would turn to the left and her bottom would rotate to the right- and I was doomed. So, I lifted my dress up and covered my camera and took karma right up the leg. Good thing I was in a wash rack, so much for unwrinkled toes.

Youngest worked hard to get his pig into the holding pen. Each time he'd open a pen, he'd have to go get the hog to turn it and walk it towards the pen he'd open, and by that time another kid and hog were within. There were adults pen-side ostensibly there to help, but, evidently, not there to help him. Eventually, when nearly every pig had already entered the ring, a small girl hopped the fence to open a pen and help him.

A moment alone to give a scratch of encouragement and then in to pig "pandelerium".

Youngest is the little guy, left side of photo, trying to get the judge to look at his pig, and failing. I don't think the judge bothered to check him out. To be fair, it was obvious that Youngest was showing non-show pigs. Wilbur and Willis were market hogs raised on the market for bacon and ham, being shown against hogs developed and fed specifically for the show ring (that will still be bacon and ham). In this photo, about four of the hogs that are in the class have already been "penned", or set aside to compete for a placing. Youngest got in the arena for only a minute or two before all the leftover hogs were dismissed. It was a disappointment to him. But, taking a hog in Ohio means you're now on the big-kid's playground. No ribbon, no recognition. But, more importantly, his project is a success. He has made it all happen himself, from calling around to find a farmer to sell him his hogs,  negotiating a price, borrowing a feeder and waterer, and then feeding, watering, walking and cleaning up after his hogs. "Making weight"...the delicate balance of having the right sized hog on the day you show up at the fair, and then showing well behaved hogs in a hot arena on show night. I am super proud of him. He was superb!

The Fair, Day 2- The Busiest Day

The Fair. The Busiest Day. This, for our family, has traditionally been, and continues to be Tuesday of The Fair. And, as the above photo will tell you, in 2012, quite a successful day. This is the day for the Poultry Show and the Sheep Show. The poultry begin showing at 10 am, and the sheep not until 3. You might be deceived into thinking this would mitigate any conflicts of the show arena, but you would be decidedly wrong. Year after year, the kid showing the sheep is required to be in both places at once. So, we are getting pretty good at the routine.

It starts in the morning with bathing the chickens. You do this to get them super clean and shiny. Dove soap in a bucket of water. They they get Vaseline on their feet, beaks and combs. If it is chilly, you blow them dry with a hairdryer. A toothbrush cleans any stubborn poop bits out of their feet, and you make sure the vent area (where the poo/pee comes out) is super clean.   In the picture above, Middlest shows a younger teammate how to bathe his pullet (young hen). The girls had their 4 chickens to get ready, and Youngest had his two ducks to prepare for show. The ducks are pretty easy, they don't mind a bath atall!

 

Then, on to the sheep. This is more complicated. The market lamb- February- is "slick sheared", so pretty easy to clean off. He just gets a bath. But not so the breeding lamb. Finn is covered in curly thick wool, and after being in a shavings-filled pen for a few days, that wool has little shavings embedded all through. First, each little bit of wood needs to be picked out. It is best to enlist the help of friends! Thanks, Audi!

Then, the sheep needs to be "fitted". This means made pretty for the breed standard. For the Border Leicester, she gets "shaped", around the belly, legs and neck. Then the whole sheep is completely evened out with the hand shears. These suckers are super sharp! Middlest is learning to handle them without hurting anyone.

When the poultry show begins, they start with turkeys. This is because they don't do well in the heat, and they need to have the first turn so they don't keel over. Unfortunately, one of the turkeys died in the show arena! It belonged to a boy in our club, and he was devastated. Louie, the deceased,  was quickly dressed out so he could fulfill his original purpose, but the poor kid had a "non-optimal" experience.

 The judge was "BuckeyeMan". He is a well known fixture at all the Ohio State football games. Also, a professor emeritus at OSU in Poultry Science, and the long time coach of the poultry judging team, BuckeyeMan is one of our favorites. Super knowledgeable, great with the kids, and loves those birds, he shares his passion with the young'uns.

This year, it looked like our kids knew what they were doing. Eldest brought home the blue for Fancy Poultry in the standard size!

Middlest earned second! Quite a sweep. The two birds on the left of the photo are Middlest's and the two on the right are Eldests...although Middlest would argue that they are all hers. She would probably be right, but Eldest rose before dawn each morning this year to care for the hens, and earn the right to show a pair.

The Triumphant Poultry Sisters.

And, Youngest. Here he is with friend, and teammate, Adam M. showing his Buff ducks. His original pair of birds had been killed by raccoons two weeks before The Fair. But these Buffs were to have been next year's show birds, and got the understudy job. They turned out to be a sensational choice, earning second place in Fancy Ducks!

While Youngest was showing his ducks, Middlest was being called in the  Market Sheep Show ring. Up she went with February, a "wool sheep" being shown in her market class full of "meat sheep".

Here the judge feels February for his condition and muscle development. He looked different, but showed pretty well, and I was so proud of Middlest for breeding and raising her very own market project. That is becoming more unusual. Many children purchase a lamb in the spring, and just raise it and show it.

In the end, February placed a respectable 4th place. Plus, the judge has had his first look at Middlest, and no doubt realized that February was a Border Leicester, and not normally considered a "market lamb."

Meanwhile....as  Middlest is finishing up with February, in the poultry arena, Eldest is in a heated battle in the Senior Fancy Poultry Showmanship class. She knows her stuff, has been diligently studying, and probably can recite the bulk of the American Standard of Perfection for Poultry.

Here, Eldest and two of her Senior Showmanship competitors, and teammates, give the thumbs up that they have answered all of the first round of questions correctly.

And, eldest is ready for round two. And three... but she is disappointed when she learns that in round one another competitor had captured the title by answering all the questions in a more complete fashion. The subsequent rounds were all to decide on second through fourth. She lands in second place, and graciously accepts her disappointment.

Next up? The Intermediate Fancy Poultry Showmanship contest. In a larger field, that includes both Middlest, and, now, Youngest! The age range is 10-13. A spectator taps me on the shoulder and asks me if this will turn into a battle between my two offspring. I roll my eyes, and say it is unlikely. Poor Youngest is competing with the bigger dogs now. But, as I watch, the unlikely happens.

Middlest gets moved into the first position, indicating she is currently in the lead. And as BuckeyeMan asks Youngest and his surrounding competitors more and more questions, Youngest keeps getting moved up, until....they are standing next to one another. He is in second. Yikes!

At this point, I am nervous, as over the loud speaker they have been calling Middlest's sheep breeding class. Eldest has been running back and forth to the main arena to let them know about the conflict, and they've put the Border Leicesters off until last, but last has come. So, I boldly poke the poultry show organizer on the shoulder and ask "Is she in first place, for certain?" He answers, "Yes." So, I ask if she can scoot off to the sheep show. The victor in the Intermediate Poultry Showmanship leaves as the battle for second rages behind.

And, in the end, Youngest is placed third, missing a question about a chick brooder and a light and a draft.... but, still, a victory!

Making biggest sis very proud!

And, I dash off to the sheep show, in time to see Middlest show her Spring Ewe Lamb in the battle for  Grand Champion Overall Breeding Sheep. The judge likes little Finn. I can tell, he keeps looking at her, and the calm, intent Middlest, keeping Finn in just the right spot.

Bingo! Grand Champion Breeding Sheep! Wow!!!

That contest was about the sheep. Who has the most correct animal to continue the breeding line. But this contest, this is the weighty one in my book. This is about the kid. Who can show the sheep to it's best advantage. This is Sheep Showmanship. Middlest shows her sheep in "breeding style". That means she stays low and tries to be unobtrusive. She merely keeps a hand under Finn's chin, and leads her around like that, then crouches down behind, "setting her up" so her feet are square and her chin is high. She is the only one in the game that does this, the other kids showing their market sheep stand up and square the lamb's feet, then "brace" them, by pulling them up in the front and making them hold their weight in their haunches, showing off their meaty little rumps. So, Middlest is the one neatly hidden behind Finn.

The judge deliberated and deliberated, and pulled out all but three kids. The last three were all very good showman, and he was having a hard time deciding who was the best. So, he had them change sheep. Here Middlest is bracing (kind of) a market sheep while the other girl tries to control Finn. Middlest makes that task look easy, but Finn isn't much of a people-sheep, and doesn't really like to be touched. You could say she was uncooperative. Still, both other competitors managed to hold onto her, and coped with the switch-up.

But, the judge thought Middlest was his one. His #1. Here he has placed her in first, but is talking to her, asking questions and giving her tips. Now, remember, he's seen her showing a market Border Leicester, and now this breeding one, and he realizes this is one of the kids that is growing her own. So, he asked her about her flock. And, having seen him switch places around after a line up in Senior Sheep Showmanship already today, I'm not ready to start Whooping yet.

But, now, Whoop away!!! She's done it! First place and Grand Champion Border Leicester, Grand Champion Overall Breeding Sheep, and now the icing on that cake- Intermediate Sheep Showman!

Serious "TA-DA!"

Busy day, successful day. And so proud of all three!!