The horses are driving us nuts. Blossom, the ringleader, is methodically taking the fence down: she leans over the stretched field wire, and then kind of hoists her chest up onto the top, and then leans all her weight on it. She’s bent two posts, and the wire is looking pretty short and mangled. Grrr!

The most effective way of dealing with the situation—at least until we get the strand of electric wire up—has been to run out there with a closed umbrella, and open it. This sends them running and bucking in paroxysms of either terror or delight—-I’m beginning to suspect delight, unfortunately—-and keeps them away for, oh, ten minutes or so.

Yesterday we bought all the accoutrements for the electric fence, but today it’s pouring a cold forbidding rain, and—call me a half-assed farmer—I just can’t seem to make myself go out and string up all that wire. Maybe later…

Like everybody else, we’ve been so busy that it’s been hard to find time to get on the computer and come up with anything intelligent to say. I’m not sure about the intelligent part, but at least I am on the computer!

DH, earlier this week killed a goose for tomorrow’s dinner. It was one of our goslings from this spring, and since I waffle heavily on the whole grain-fattening issue, he (surprise!) wasn’t very fat. He’ll make a fine dinner, and carcass soup the next day, but let’s just say we are not going to be overwhelmed by vast quantities of meat needing to be eaten! ED and I are scheming on a goose fattening plan for next year that would involve a large pen planted with winter rye, and some supplemental corn. They got corn this year, but I didn’t pen them; we’ll see how the new plan works out.

Yesterday a fellow from Hendersonville brought over his very cute miniature Jersey bull, who is going to spend the next month or so with Rosemary. Rosemary was thrilled to see him—she’s been awfully lonely since she arrived here without Bronwen. Rudy—the bull—is a few inches shorter than she is, so she likes to kind of hook her head under him and throw him, but then she runs over to him and licks him all over. Actually it’s a strange relationship, now that I’m thinking about it, but they both seem to be enjoying it.

OK—I’m off to wrap a few remaining presents. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas, and, like me, get everything you’ve ever wished for!

DH and I (and even the girls) have really felt stressed over the horses and cows, who have all four been up at the old place all this time. DH and I alternate nights of waking up in a panic in the middle of the night, worrying about them. I, for the last week, have been trying to track down somebody with trailer who would be willing to haul my animals— for pay, of course!—but I haven’t even been able to get anybody to return my calls! Major frustration, until, finally, a lightbulb went off in my head, and I called my neighbor Van. He hooked me up with his brother Slowly (really and truly his name), and yesterday we headed up to Spring Creek with a twenty foot stock trailer.

Now, I should also tell you that one of the cows we needed to deal with was Bronwen, a half Jersey, half Angus heifer who is wild as a deer, and has never been too keen on being around humans. We had no good feeling that we were ever going to be able to get her on a trailer, so the night before, DH borrowed a gun from P*, and we thought that we’d just go up there after we moved the others, and DH would shoot her and quarter her with a chainsaw, and then we’d haul her down here where I could butcher her. While we were certainly looking forward to the meat, neither of us were looking forward to the, um, process.

So we get up there, and catch the horses; Blossom loads without any hesitation; Ginger neeeds just a little persuasion, but then went on in without much of a problem (especially considering that she’d never been in a trailer before—-when we bought her we had to walk her the several miles to our house!); Rosemary leads us a merry chase up the mountain, but, with a bucket of corn and a rope, we were able to get her down the hill and in the trailer; Bronwen goes and hides. That’s what I thought she’d do, so I just sort of blew her off, but Slowly and DH head up there, and would you believe they came down that mountain with her following right on their heels? Well, it took some finagling and some creative work with corral panels, but we actually got her on the trailer! It was maybe the most fun I’ve had in a long time!

Then, to top it off, while at lunch at the Diner, Slowly talked us into selling her to him, which really turned out to be the best outcome of all.

We really had a blast with Van and Slowly, and by the time we had gotten all the critters unloaded over here, and watered and fed, it was time to get ready for the Mountain Magnolia Christmas party, where we also had a blast, getting home at quarter to midnight.

All in all, I would call it a perfect way for DH and I to spend our eighteenth anniversary.

I walked out to the barn at 6:45 this morning; it was snowing and still very dark. I went out just to check on everybody—sometimes I wake up feeling anxious for no apparant reason, and it’s good for me to go make sure all the animals are where I left them. They were! I gave Fionn a couple of lamb bones from last night’s dinner and gave the goats and sheep some hay—it looks like Pippi is bred. Three down, five to go! (Tallulah was indeed in heat the other day.)

We spent most of yesterday at a work party at some friends’ house in town. The guys stood a couple of walls up; the girls and I were there mostly for moral support, though we did help get the sixteen roof trusses up to the second story, which was both fun and satisfying. It was nice to hang around the bonfire amidst the sound of hammering.

Poor DH is out of coffee, and although I’ve made him a nice hot cup of Barry’s, it must not be the same, as he doesn’t seem to be exactly flying out of bed this morning!

Well, how quickly things can change. By last night Aurora was definitely in heat, and I’m guessing she’s officially bred this morning. Babies on May 9th! And now Tallulah’s in heat. Hurray!

My sister and BIL are posting from China—it’s very exciting! I can’t wait for them to bring their new baby home.

Our atrocious weather never panned out last night; I don’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. I am keeping my fingers crossed for a white Christmas. Not that there’s much chance—our historical probability is very, very low. But that certainly is not the same as impossible! One year DH and I were down on the NC coast selling Christmas trees—maybe 1989 or ’90? Anyway, there I am, poor little thing from down south, don’t know any better than to wish for a white Christmas, and you know what? We got a foot of snow! We drove our camper through a Christmas Eve blizzard to a secluded spot in the national forest, and we were snowed in there for days. Fortunately we had provisions—-it was very romantic. So all I’m saying is anything’s possible.

Well, wouldn’t you know it—I bring the boy home, and not one of those eight does is in heat! Things are terribly ho-hum out there—I want some action! The way I’m figuring it, they’re all going to go into heat at the same time, and all our babies are going to be born in one hectic week in May. Actually, I hope that’s true; in some ways it’s easier to get all the birthing done at once. And, like DH pointed out, since kidding is going to be so late this year, I’ll have March and April to dedicate to the garden. It’s all good.

There is some kind of weather whipping up out there today. They’re calling for rain, freezing rain, sleet, and snow. Oh—and wind. Sounds like a nice evening!

A couple of nights ago, the girls and I picked DH up after work and we all rode up to the old house and cut a tree. Years before we were there, it was a Christmas tree farm, and now, if you’re not too picky, and you can handle the briars, you can cut a top out of a Frasier fir and it’ll make a pretty sweet tree. DH is trying to put a hook in the ceiling right now—we always hang the tree—and the girls, especially Bernard, are a little manic with excitement. I think I’d better go help!

We were gone all day today, buying a big, handsome, stinky buck. He’s tall, very well bred, black and white, and has a coiffure like Elvis. He was so mild and gentle in the back of the Subaru (yes, I know—I’m going to air it out tomorrow), that he earned the title of Best Behaved Animal to ever ride in the car. His name is Flash, and even though it was dark (and raining) when we got him home, we could hear the appreciative murmers of the does as we led him into their stall. They couldn’t see him, so I have to guess they were basing their appreciation on his awesome and astonishing fragrance.

DH, on the way home, had a good, if unconventional, idea for supper tonight: popcorn and homemade wine. Here’s how that played out: popcorn, blackberry wine, hot cocoa with marshmallows, and we decided to try some of our chestnuts that we’ve been keeping in the freezer since we picked them up back in October. I tried boiling some, and DH roasted a batch. He scored them first, but not quite deeply enough. Yikes! It was fireworks in the Moonmeadow Farm kitchen tonight! They exploded one by one with the most amazing, deep percussive booms—we were semi-terrified. The few that didn’t burst were pretty delicious, though I think actually I’m the only one in the family who thinks that. The girls only like them raw, and DH likes the flavor but not the texture. They evoke for me an autumn trip to New York City when I was young, so maybe I love them for the memories that they bring.

ED and I are fixing to light a lantern and walk down to the barn to see how our boy is settling in. Eight gorgeous and adoring ladies—he’s probably settling in just fine.