Been a bumpy month here at Two Moose Farm. The kids picked up a bug in town and passed it on until it has hit us all, thankfully it didn’t hit at the same time. Feeling much better now but for a few days it was miserable. Having a stomach bug makes trips to the outhouse feel like your hiking a mile uphill both ways.
It appears dear hubby has taken lessons in grace from me. Usually it is I who can trip over air, fall up stairs and am covered in bruises but now he is the one sporting green, black, blue and purple camo bruises. Now that he’s on the mend I can make light of it but I assure you at the time it was anything but funny. The incident that caused all this started out as routine. He was moving hay from the wagon to the barn and it is quite icy out. Normally he wears his ice cleats but had forgotten to put them back on after taking them off when he went into town to check the mail. Almost finished with the unloading I walked to the cabin and started up the steps when I heard “ah oh”. As I turned I caught a glimpse of my husbands 6’3″ frame as it was mid air-almost as if it was suspended in time and the bale of hay seem to hit the ground a millisecond before he did bursting from its ties and raining hay as he hit the hard ice with a thud. Knowing better than to attempt to run I started to descend the steps when in the shower of green, he rises from the ground surrounded by goats wondering why he was rolling in their hay, turkeys and chickens rushing to see what the excitement was and Henry our Billy standing there looking at him with a confused look on his face. After what felt like hours but was mere seconds I ascertained he was alright and proceeded in to get the coffee going. Ever the trooper my dear hubby dusted himself off, finished unloading hay and then came in for a warm up and coffee. This is his account of what happened-I had just picked up the bale and turned to head to the barn when my feet grew cold and tired of the ice so by their own volition they went on strike and decided to toss themselves into the air in protest. Hopefully next time they go on strike they will do it in a softer spot! Yes folks my dear hubby can be as sarcastic as I am! I am just thankful his injuries were not much worse. Another blessing for sure.
Yes December has been a month of illness, injuries, intrigued and let’s not forget the giggles. I had been losing sleep over something attacking my chickens at night. I had just returned in and was warming by the stove when their squawking began again but this time the young pigs joined in their distress call. I woke up dear hubby and said “somethings out there I can’t see it and my fingers are too cold to handle a gun”-all in one breath with a bit of a screech to it. Perhaps I sounded a bit distressed so dear hubby in his half sleep rush grabs a headlamp and his shotgun then heads out into the night as I follow behind several steps. The investigation shows that once again something had been chasing chickens from their roost but this time one of the chickens ended up in bed with the pigs. Now for those of you who don’t know, pigs do not like being woke up in the middle of the night much less anything crawling in bed with them. The chicken in question was my dear hen Betty a barred rock that was clearly upset and scared and was not budging from her safe haven with the pigs no matter how much we coaxed and the pigs protested her presence. Seeing that whatever had caused the distress was now gone we went back into the cabin to thaw our cold fingers when Betty began her raucous squawking…again. The pigs not happy with her interrupting their sleep squealed in protest so dear hubby once again goes outside, into the pig pen, folds his very tall frame up enough to get inside their bed and pluck dear Betty off her pig perch and brings her to the house. Yes he’s my super hero. Everyone has quieted down, Betty is drinking her warm coffee perched on my knee and I began to giggle, then full on laugh until the tears ran down my cheeks-not seeing what I am and the cause of my uncontrollable laughter hubby looks at me quite confused. Finally I am able to compose myself and explain. You see dear hubby didn’t get dressed before going outside, so here I have just viewed a long john clad man with a headlamp on completing the ensemble with a shotgun under one arm, in a pig pen with a chicken under the other and it made me think of an old movie with ma and pa kettle on the farm. Those of you who never seen the movie (or too young to know who ma and pa kettle are) may not see the humor. If you get the chance watch the movie and you will see what life is like at times on the farm!
The mystery finally ended 2 nights later when the turkeys cornered our night invader. Turkeys can be vicious creatures and the owl that was disturbing their sleep had finally met its match. We found him huddled in a corner of the shed and after pulling the attack turkeys off him and with a bit of coaxing he came out and flew off, missing quite a few feathers but apparently he decided that the giant turkeys were no match and he hasn’t returned.
Well the roosters are crowing, coffee is gone and time to get the day started. I’ll leave you all with a few random pics and a prayer that each of you finds a reason to smile today. God Bless!
Yay for turkeys! My turkeys chased off an owl last month, I was so proud of them. No more chicken dinners for Mr. Owl.
Guess I must have missed this post, as it is first time I recall seeing it. I remember when you told me Mike fell and that is so hard on the body, it must be a constant challenge with ice everywhere all the time. It is great that the turkeys helped out with the owl and you guys didn’t have to keep getting up nightly because of a rucus. Also, like I have told you before, I just love the way you write and tell your stories, so descriptive. I wish I was able to do that. Take care and everyone remember your ice cleats.