Just another day in paradise

 Today was just another day in the life of a hobby farmer. I guess we have a hobby farm. Maybe it's less than that even. But we are sure it is a farm. The birds and goats and cats and dogs. All the critters. Not actually. Not yet. But girls can dream.

Today we had some mundane "work" to do. Moving birds around according to keepers or goners. And our silkie flock is getting smaller and the grow out pen is getting to be quite a flock. So we had to flip the space. 

A friend messaged me about hens. Well, I have some in my grow out pen. So we also spent time looking over our birds that weren't really chicks anymore but they weren't full grown either. They haven't told us yet if they're hens or roos. But the other day I noticed that they are getting close to telling us. The roos are starting to get a comb, but the hens not-so-much yet. So that's a clue. And then the neck feathers are showing up male or female. Roos have more pointy neck feathers and the hens are more rounded. So there's clue number two. And so far we didn't see saddle feathers on our roos. But that will be the next clue. I'm pretty confident that we've found hens for my neighbor. If not, they are just a mile up the road, so we'll get it fixed. 

But then a little bit of excitement happened. I saw our cat was messing around in the grass, maybe a hole in the ground? Then Jadyn calls out to me... "Domino caught a mouse! Or is it a rabbit? What sound do bunnies make?" I said, "they scream." "Maybe its a bunny then." I am trying to figure it out. I'm inside the goat pen, and Domino is not. But it kind of looks like his captive has four legs. And although mice have four legs, you can't usually see them from any kind of distance. Just then, the tom who has adopted us (and apparently us him as well since my daughter named him), James, comes after Domino. Domino is a fixed, small cat; James is neither of those things. Domino panics and drops his prey. So I scramble out of the goat pen to try to find this little critter. Me and a whole bunch of other farm cats. I found him because a crowd had started to gather of at least three cats, not yet pouncing or playing, just gathering with an abundance of curiosity. I snatched up that baby bunny. He was so tiny. So atleast for tonight we are bunny rescuers. I will call the zoo in the morning and see if they can rehab him. I've done a little bit of reading tonight. He had some goat milk and by some articles it was adequate, and some articles say it is not enough. But rabbits are not like cats. They don't need to eat every couple hours. Thank God. Wild rabbit babies only eat once or twice a day. That's it. Goat's milk is hella versatile. We were so grateful last summer when we had kittens and we got the dairy goat. Becasue KMR is expensive! Ironically enough, that's what is recommended for the bunny too. Kitten Replacement Milk or goat milk. So I thawed some goat milk out and coaxed the baby to drink. There was one moment when my hand slipped an squeezed a little more than I meant to and there's always a chance I got that baby too much liquid and he aspirated. But I'm praying not. We worried about him being warm enough. But from what I read, it's more worrisome to get them overheated. So while it's cooler in the backroom, I don't want him to overheat. What I fixed up for him is one of our brooder cages for chicks with the not-as-hot bulb in the heat lamp. And it said to put them somewhere dark. With the heat lamp plugged in, there's an abundance of light and my makeshift burrow (a small trashcan) still was pretty lit. So I also covered that with cardboard to make the inside more night-like. I'll have to check it in a minute to make sure that bulb is far enough away from the cardboard. Anyway.... that was exciting, exhilirating, exhausting. That was my day. 

    

Bunny's current habitat

 

Brain Mush...

What slice of my life do I want to share with you all tonight? There's a thunderstorm in my brain tonight. A lot of the time when my brain gets cloudy and foggy, I blame the menopause. But tonight is more. The pause of Meno might play a part, but those clouds don't usually throw lightning and rattle off thunder. My mind and heart are connected. My thoughts are muddled in the middle of my heart. If that makes sense. And honestly tonight, if it doesn't make sense, that might be perfect.

I didn't want to write about this. Emotion and feelings. But they have flared up, like the flare of a disorder or disease. And are affecting my ability to think clearly. I'm determined to post something tonight. I missed the first two days of the month. I don't want to miss any more. 

It started in the car. My kiddo and I were talking and then the feelings start getting hurt and words get said. And then I get up in my head. Next I have to overthink for awhile. Then comes the beating up of self. And sadness. In roll the clouds. Fog. Thick and dense and damp. And my thoughts are mush. I'm in the kitchen crying I can't remember why I'm crying. I remember the feeling I was experiencing, but not the thoughts. No clear, concise description of events is lying around. 

So here I sit, determined to write, pound the keys, and to post. But the clarity. it's lacking. So today is drawing to a close. It's midnight here. I guess I should sleep. In spite of my disappointing blog post.  

What I’m Loving Right Now

 I forgot about this format until I saw someone use it the other night. I’m substitute teaching today. Right now actually. Kind of weird. Today I am a building float for intervention meetings for teachers. Right now I am in 6th grade. There are two paras in here helping me run this class. It’s getting loud. The natives are getting restless. Can you blame them? It’s early afternoon on a Friday and their job right now is to finish up any unfinished work. Spring break is still a week away. Today is the first day this week that the weather has been Spring-like. Tonight should be a classic spring night in Kansas, it’s humid and warm and storms are on the agenda. But what I’m loving right now…. 

• New sneakers. I’ve been subbing for about 15 months and I have been promising myself decent shoes for the job since day one. Heaven only knows why I ordered cream colored tennies but I think they look amazing right now. Fingers crossed I can remember not wear them at home. Or at work? Most of our school playgrounds are covered in "mulch" made of tires. Those pretty almost white shoes will get black all over them. *big sigh* But I do think they are pretty.

• My headlamp for evening chore time. I received this as a Christmas gift this last year. I promptly failed to read all the directions before using it and after one use it stopped working. Now I finally have that one replaced and let me tell you, having the use of both hands and not worrying about dropping phone or flashlight is an amazing freedom at chore time.  

Never mind how goofy I look! 

• My rainbow flock is also something I love. We have decided to call them our rainbow flock because we’re always on the quest for more rainbow colors to add to our egg colors. Currently we have 3 colors of brown eggs… a very light brown, almost a peachy/pink color; a medium brown (some of them with speckles, so does that mean there’s actually 4 brown colors?); and the dark brown eggs of the copper marans. We don’t have any true blues right now. But we have an aqua greenish bluefish color that I obviously don't really know how to describe. Greens, we have a definitive two different shades of green, but there are the "sometimes" colors too.... we certainly have a rich olive green, not super dark, I think "rich" is the best descriptor; and a pale, pastel green. The sometimes are.... sometimes we have an inbetween green and sometimes we have speckles on the medium/in-between green color as well as on the pale/pastel green color. I'm on a quest for a darker brown, that black copper maran color that is almost red, a white egg, and a richer blue. These colors for sure. But the eggs below are a really great start and I think we have gorgeous rainbow spectrum eggs. 

Notice the dark browns, they have speckles today, and the pinkish color? and there are a couple that look blue-ish. 

This is the same carton. The lighting is a little different. I just wanted to show the different coloring better. or differently at least.  

• hatching chicks. I love when it's hatch day or nearly hatch day. Silkies usually hatch a couple days early. But my last hatch was late. And this one looks to be as well. Tonight marks 0 more days until hatch. And I have one egg hatching. It is a thrill. On lockdown day I candled them and there were a lot that were full. Last night I had one egg pipped. Tonight it is zipped. Idk if that is a technical term or a Carrie Horn specialty, but that's what I called them when theres a line that looks like the shell is being unzipped to let the chick out. 

See how the egg in the upper left is "zipped" or has a line cracked open? That little guy is trying to break free from the confines that imprison him!

• are these kittens! They have my heart! They are sweet and spunky and cuddly and getting more and more playful. And who doesn't love a kitten?!

This is the little babe that was out in the rain last night! 

To read other blogs, click on the Slice above.

A tiny blessing in a torrential rain storm

 Tonight at chore time, the sky was clouded over and shrouded in fog. It started closing in. Then the thunder started and kept getting closer, and louder... and the sky closed in on me and it was eerie and ominous. The lightning getting ever closer. And I have to tell you a little truth here. I'm afraid of lightning. So the closer it got, the louder the thunder, the more I was shaking in my boots. One of the goats, Marlie, decided tonight would be a good night not to cooperate. As she is rebelliously determined not to be kept in the gate, she pushes past me, and determinedly escaped to do as she pleased outside the gate. And the anxiety is welling up inside me as the thunder rolls in closer and the lightning strikes brighter, closer.... I determine not to panic. Sometimes determination isn't enough. But tonight I was able to choke it down. and smooth it out and not yell at animals. I knew if I did lose it, the animals would feel my fear and my chances to beat the rain would dwindle down to nothing. Everyone got fed, everyone got water. Eggs... collected. Hay... pitched. Dog.... put up. As I pull the wagon back to the house, grateful as ever for my headlamp, I am caught up by the glowing eyes in the weeds and all around me giving away the locations of my cats. Almost there. But I have to put away the feed buckets, the water bottles (we're hauling water because my dog thinks he's still a puppy, and he ate the hoses... oh boy), and grab the cat food and change the cats' water. The ducks love the cat water bowl and every night its full of mud because of the dirty ducks. But ducks are up for night, chicken are up, dog and goats are put away... even Marlie is back in the pen. Hurry, hurry Carrie. Get it done!

I rush in as the rain start to pound and pour. Just before heading to grab cat food, I open the door to the kitten crate. I rush in to hurry and grab the last of what I need. I go in the house, I hear loud pounding. Is it hail? I fill the scoop for the outdoor cats' food. I open the door to head back out, and there's a curtain raining down, rolling off the roof, in a sheet in front of me. The pounding was just rain, no hail. It was literally raining that hard. I feed momma cat and kittens in the crate, and the door is still open. I go in search of a cardboard box or some sort of shelter to keep the cats food in a dry space for them. They have scattered in the midst of torrential rain. I grab a cardboard box and fashion a shelter to the sound of a kitten crying desperately. I don't see any kittens, I keep saying "its okay baby, you're gonna be okay." And I turn to head inside and the baby is still just crying! I look down and there is a baby, not in the safety of the crate, but in the rain. The rain is coming down so fast that it's rising like flood water. And this bitty baby is here in the thick of it all. Water coming up around her body, drenched and scared. I scoop her up and bring her in with me. She's cold and wet. She's scared. and shaking. I found a towel to wrap her up, and soon she's tucked in and we're passing her around, taking turns holding her. I heated up my rice warmer and put it underneath her on my lap. She falls into an exhausted sleep. Being cold, wet, and scared is exhausting such a little peanut. I adore watching her, knowing she's safe and warm now, and loving to dote on a kitten. Kittens just bring a little peace to my soul. And it is so fulfilling when a little bitty kitty purrs at your touch. 

A cold wet kitten

We're both pretty cold and wet here

It's exhausting to be so cold and wet and scared

After a little nap, it's playtime!

March... in she marches with her gloom and doom.

 I really wanted to write a poem, but the words are not flowing the way they used to. It's a dreary March day. I think today sums up my thoughts about March nicely.... cold (for Spring, not winter-cold), dreary, and wet. Depressing. Come on April, are you here yet? Just kidding. I am old enough now that I have decided not to wish my life away. I'm not so old as my Mom's generation, having their friends and neighbors pass away and attending funerals every week or so. So there is that to be grateful for. 

Spring is Beginning

This March morning is wet and rainy

a damp fills the air 

and cold clings to the dampness.

March days like these

feel like grief...

depressing, overwhelming and sad.

Days like these

avoidance is my friend.

I just want to sip my coffee

surrounded by my furry little loves

and not face the realities of farm life. 

But alas,

the goats and chickens and ducks

did not feed themselves

this cold, wet, dreary day.

The big dog needs attention

and there's dishes to do

and chicks to prepare for.

Laundry to fold

and meals to make.

Dreams of escape

to a place of luxury and leisure

are just that...

dreams.

So I'll steal a moment,

an hour,

a moment in time.

I'll dig deep and find some gratitude

for the life I live

and the indulgences I have.

I'll face this cold, dank day

fueled by coffee and courage;

I'll beat back the demons

that this weather summons.

Blessed are the women

who brave the ugliness of Spring

before the rewards...

the flowers, sunshine and bees.

-Carrie Horn

March 2026

Slice of Life Challenge....

 Whelp! Here I am, late to the party. Already. I have been looking forward to the SOL challenge and couldn't wait for March to finally get here. Now I've completely missed two days and if I don't get it in gear, I'm going to miss the 3rd day. 

So many thoughts swirling through my head. I think about how quickly life passes. How much I want to achieve. What I did accomplish today. What I didn't. 

Here are a few moments in today's slice of life.... 

• Today I substitute taught in Kinder. I subbed 1/2 the day in one K class, and the rest of the day in the other K class. In the first class, we talked a lot about how when you're a student and there's a sub, you have to learn to go with the flow. During tiered learning time, one little girl started to interrupt me to tell me I was doing something wrong. But then she stopped and said, "that's one of those 'go with the flow' things. Isnt it?" My heart was happy.
• We have baby silkies set to hatch in a few days. This will be fun. I love baby chicks of all kinds. Big birds, little bitty bantam birds, and everything in between. Tonight was a final candling. I saw a lot of dark mass and blood vessels. Yay. I am getting antsy. From now until I am over the wait for chicks, I will be making chirpy noises every time I go into the kitchen. Yes, I have an incubator in the kitchen. Two if we are telling the truth.
• Baby kitties. My daughter acknowledged today that some of them really are getting cute. I knew that! We have a lot of cats currently. I am still trying to recover finances from the January spaying of four of my favorite cats. Here's the dilemma. Even if I could spay the rest of the females (3), should I? Last year, at final count, we had lost 8 cats to the harsh realities of life as a farm cat. Currently we have 10 (11 if you count the tomcat) outdoor cats. If we count the latest set of 5 adorable babies, then we have 15 (16) outdoor cats. The four I had spayed or my favorites. I know, I know.... you're not supposed to have favorites. But two of them were bottle babies. Their mom was apparently one of the casualties of farm life. They love me like I'm their mom. I love them like I'm their mom. The other two faves, they were 6 weeks and weaned or at least in the process of weaning when their mom didn't come home one morning. They are sweet and loving as the bottle babies. 

As I sit here trying to pound this out of my head and onto the paper, I keep drifting off. dozing. And the more I doze and the longer it takes to type, the more likely I am not to post this in time. Ugh, I hope I don't miss out. 

A recent sub day when I was a librarian. Today I was in Kindergarten, which is my favorite grade to teach.

These are the youngest chicks we have currently. 

My daughter, Jadyn, holding her two favorite kittens. 

Click here to read other bloggers' Slice of Life.

Transformation from ultra-conservative to leftist liberal

 How does this even happen? Someone being very conservative transforming over time to someone with a bleeding heart? One of those crazy ass, bleeding heart liberals? This has really been on my mind lately. You know, some of the people that I count among my friends, who knew me way back when, knew me as the person who used words like "snowflakes," and"libtards." I tried to figure out what other words I might have used "back then" but my memory fails and using the internet to find terms was like reading gibberish. I couldn't even figure out what some of the insults directed at liberals were saying or what the meaning was. Ironically some of the current descriptives I count as compliments when I hear them. Like... bleeding heart liberal. or my favorite: Woke. I might have to order that t-shirt that says "Woke: its not the insult you think it is." 

One of the things I've been pondering lately is that I've always been a "bleeding heart." Some of my causes that are near and dear to my heart and have been for as long as I can remember, are issues and causes that are generally liberal causes. Women and children first of all. In some ways I've always been a feminist. Though there were years when I was far from it. But I've never really bought into gender roles. And my dad wasn't really one to promote them either. In some ways, Mom and Dad's marriage was oh-so-traditional. But in regard to some of those roles, my Mom is the one who ram-rodded those roles. My dad was super independent. He could cook. He could clean. He could do his laundry. He wasn't afraid to do dishes. But it wasn't really allowed in our home. Mom did those things. If he did do them, she micro-managed him and it had to be really discouraging. Another way that dad didn't really buy into gender roles was in regard to the way he allowed me to be the tomboy/Daddy's girl that I was. My favorite thing was to be wherever Dad was. If he was cutting wood, I wanted to be there. If he was hunting, I was there. Building race car? Yes, please, let me tag along. Building demo derby cars, I was there. Fishing? Take me! Farming? Let me ride along. There wasn't really a line of what girls or boys did. Having said that, though, my dad also made sure that I (and the other women he mentored or took under his wing) had plenty of support. He taught me how to hunt, but I've never field-dressed a deer. I never had to. He taught me how to fish, but guess who had to get the hook out when they swallowed it? Dad taught me about racing, but I've never had to change a tire. or changed my oil. Know what else? I never loaded a shotgun shell or a rifle shell. But dad did. He made many reloads. I also didn't have to pay for ammo. And to be honest, a few weeks ago when I had to get ammo for my .380, it was the first time I'd bought shells for it. Just a few ways my daddy took care of me. And as much as I appreciate it, I wish I'd learned to do some of this stuff earlier. Because guess what? Dad's not here to do it now. And there's no one else. I probably wouldn't appreciate someone else's efforts anyway. Because I'm like a toddler... "I want to do it myself!"

There's both a freedom and a fear involved with following what is in my heart, culturally and politically. Fear that my family will reject me, judge me, and deem as one headed straight for hell. It's funny that I still worry and squirm about that. I don't think the dreaded and mysterious "they" are right. So why does it influence me? I blame my own self-doubt. Can I really trust my gut and instincts to make the decisions that are best for me? 

I've been reading the bible through with a small, very small, group of friends. We don't have a study guide or devotional or reference books. We just read, and respond. What are our thoughts? What is God saying to us? What questions does the passage leave us with? I like it because it's not mucked up and mired down with opinion and rhetoric. I fell like I'm learning a lot. One of the things I'm learning is that I am not so very wrong. The gospel talks a LOT about the poor, the immigrant, the widow, the orphan, the underdogs, the dregs. And guess what? It doesn't say throw them in jail just for being poor or being immigrants, or any of those other groups of demigraphics that Middle and Upper class Americans find so deplorable. And actually, the indoctrination runs deep. I see other poor people harshly judging their fellow citizens in poverty. Why? Don't we have other things to worry about? Where do passages like  The Lord's Prayer fit? Let me throw a little of this at y'all: 

 "Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name,
10 your kingdom come,
your will be done,
    on earth as it is in heaven.
11 Give us today our daily bread.
12 And forgive us our debts,
    as we also have forgiven our debtors.
13 And lead us not into temptation,[a]
    but deliver us from the evil one."

This is from the NIV, Matthew 6, verses 9-13. 

Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. I owe a lot of debts. I mistreated my children. I have a very oppositional child. One who baffles me to this day. But one reason we come to be at odds has to do with that we are BOTH oppositional. And the words spoken, I might agree to from someone else, but if she says them, I will say the opposite. Yuck. I hate it that there is an ounce of truth there. But I owe her. One of the things she is stubborn about... growing an honest relationship with me. And she will not give up or give in. No matter how hard I dig my toes in. I am so, so grateful for this and I'm grateful to God for her. She shows me regularly what my shortcomings are (and I am seldom grateful for this as it is happening... it feels wretched), and I then have the opportunity to come before God and ask him to forgive this fiesty, oppositional part of me. Then I have the opportunity to go to said child and ask her to forgive me. And she does. So what business do I have judging her for the very same behaviors?! Wouldn't it be so much better if I sought to understand her? If I practiced empathy? If I forgave her as she forgave me? Because what is she (and God) decided to treat me the way I treat others (her in particular)? Ouch. I would be doomed. It's in my best interest to adopt compassion. I guess that means that I am still self-centered. If I'm being honest. But if I can get to that place of honesty, I can handle that level of self-centeredness that treats other people better because I want God to treat me with love and compassion. and forgiveness. 

I can apply that anywhere. How do I like it when I am at the grocery store and have to put things back because I don't have enough money? How does it feel? There's a lot of shame that goes with that. Even on the days that the cashier and/or other shoppers don't project shaming behaviors and attitudes onto me. It's okay, I got it covered. I will shame myself into the ground. 

I look back in Matthew to chapter 7. Verses 1 and 2 say this:

 “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.  For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." This is also out of the NIV.

Well, I'm not sure I can even expand on that. Isn't that a complete thought? My bleeding heart cries about this very thing in regard to how immigrants are treated in America, how harshly divorcees are judged (especially within the church!), how we regard the poor or less fortunate, how we make distinctions in intelligence and qualify people by the color of their skin! I can go on. But the more of the Bible that I read, the more I think I'm on the right soapbox. It's not about "every man for him/her self". I don't find that to be a teaching of christ. I feel that is where the Republican party has landed. And blindly so. But that is fodder for another post. 

borrowed from the internet.