Holiday rain

I realized after I published my last post that I’d done it on the 30th anniversary of the Mt. St. Helens eruption, a big event here in Washington State.  It seems like eons ago, but it’s still hard to believe it’s been 30 years.  It didn’t affect us much here in the Seattle area, other than seeing the ash plume on the horizon for weeks (she belched ash regularly after the initial eruption).  It was scary to watch on the news and see the rivers roiling with muddy, tree filled waters, the normally gradual snowmelt of spring concentrated into a churning, angry mash up of blasted rock, ash, and trees.  Though she’s huffed and puffed a few times since, nothing has approached the devastation of that initial blast.  We all still watch her though, and her sisters, Mt. Rainier and Mt. Baker, both dormant…for now.   

This weekend is Memorial Day weekend, and it’s been raining all weekend.  The weatherman’s predicted sunshine  never made it through the clouds, and aside from a half day break in the rain on Sunday, it’s pretty much been solid rain since Thursday afternoon.  All this rain means the grass is growing and the pasture needs another cutting.  A trip outside to feed and water the chickens requires waterproof footwear, and I’ve graduated to the Wellies now, as even the ankle high duck shoes were leaving the bottoms of my jeans soaked.  The good news is it’s warmed up a bit, so it’s not quite so miserable as it was last week – cold AND wet, brrr.  Today it’s warm, almost tropical, and with a rain slicker and waterproof pants, it’s a lovely day for a nice hike in the ubiquitous liquid sunshine of the Pacific Northwest.  And the thing about the rain, is it decreases the human activity outside.  This makes it quieter and tranquil, and the birdsong becomes the prevailing sound instead of motors. 

If there’s one drawback on my little farm it’s the noise.  I knew it when I purchased the home.  I first viewed it in August on a beautiful sunny Saturday.  After having looked for nearly two years, I was searching for the perfect place and not finding it.  There was always something not quite “it” with the many places I viewed, whether a combination of small, but individually surmountable, drawbacks, or one or more “fatal flaws” (power transmission lines intersecting or adjacent to property, for instance), it seemed like I was finding something wrong with everything I looked at.  I was beginning to think I was being too picky in a subconscious effort to avoid making a decision (yeh, lots of head games with myself). 

On that sunny day I could hear the road noise and hesitated.  The road in front of the house is somewhat busy, but the house is set back quite a ways from the road, with a wide copse of trees and underbrush running the length of the property.  A half mile away is a state highway – two lanes from Monroe south to Fall City, then east to Redmond.  It’s a beautiful stretch of highway, and a vital link through the valley farmlands.  And of course there’s the accompanying road noise.  Thankfully both the realtor and the good friend who’d come with me to view the home placated me with the fact that it wasn’t so bad, I’d get used to it, and suggested that I could put a fountain in the small pond out front.  For what is road noise but white noise?  If I lived next to the ocean it would be noisy 24/7.  At least here the noise is nearly non-existant at night. 

So it wasn’t a fatal flaw for purchasing the home when there was so much else that was just right, including the Bald eagle that circled overhead as we prepared to leave that day, but it’s still an irritant to me – I freely admit I’m a bit of a noise freak.  Inside the home is fine and I hear very little, if any, road noise.  But on sunny weekends, when I’m likely to be outside working, they come out in droves: those from the populated areas – Seattle and environs – coming out for various attractions – farmstands, fishing, hiking, biking, kayaking, etc.  And with these droves comes my biggest peeve, the touring packs of motorcycles.  In twos and threes, fives and eights, even 20 or more (must have been a club gathering) on Harleys and crotch rockets, they blast down the highway, accelerating out of town with their abominable four stroke engines amplified with the BRAAAAAAAP of sound exaggerating pipes.  I’m sure it’s a lovely way to travel on a beautiful warm day, but really, do you have to come out here to do it?  I had a co-worker recently share, when she found out where I lived,  how she and her hubby and their friends love to take their motorcycles out on the weekends and ride the roads in my area.  I smiled politely through gritted teeth as she even described how her brother-in-law told them about this great loop to take – take this side road that veers off the highway just out of town and follow it out and around.  She was, of course, describing the road I live on.  Which would account for the repeated loops some of the packs make, two and three times past my house, sending the bird dog into a frenzy (he seems to dislike them – or something – as much as I detest them), as I snarl and gesture in frustration toward the offending noise.  Oh well.  I guess it’s the price we pay for the place being nearly perfect in every other way.  And, to put a positive spin on it: road traffic means customers.  When I get to the production stage of the farm, it will be nice to have a steady supply of potential customers for the little farm stand I can put out by the side of the road.  In the meantime, I’m enjoying hearing the birds sing on this wet weekend.

Postscript: shortly after I originally posted this, the clouds parted and the sun came out.  The hens all collapsed in an ecstacy of sunbathing and the last five hours of daylight were a glory of green jungle in the sun.

A busy week on Bobcat Ridge

I’m still trying to figure out names for my little farm. Bobcat Ridge is in the running, to acknowledge the other resident I’ve seen, along with Glencullen or Glen-something (that dang Gaelic thing rearing its head).  Glencullen means ‘holly glen’ – there are quite a few holly trees in the woods, and the place is a bit of a glen – but something is lost in the translation.  I mean, I don’t want it to be some Twilight reference (well, maybe I do…sigh, Edward…heehee).  So for now, Bobcat Ridge is the ‘working title’ as we say.

Last week was the installation of my new windows.  I ordered them six weeks ago, after a visit from Ray of Best Choice Windows.  One of my main goals was to get something to help with heating bills: the existing windows were all single pane, wood frame windows.  Which means that most mornings during colder weather I woke up with window fog (or sweat) up to mid-window on the picture windows.  The two that opened were so drafty that they didn’t fog.  Two of the windows were double pane, and one of these had a bad seal, so always looked dirty.  So I decided to take the plunge and replace all of them.  The only one I didn’t do is the little window in the loft.  Probably should have, but I like it as it is. 

So the guys came out to install and didn’t waste any time.  They cut out all of the old windows first, leaving the place a barn.  I sat at my desk trying to work until my fingers were too cold to type anymore.  It was overcast and chilly, and I made sure to secure Hugh (the budgie) in the closet with the door closed.  Still cool, but at least not drafty.  The dogs did pretty well with all the intrusion and noise. 

By noon or so the sun began to come out, and it warmed up a bit.  The guys worked steadily, and slowly my little place was transformed.  I didn’t think it would make that much of a difference, but the new windows are gorgeous.  They’re energy efficient windows from Milgard called Tuscany, and will be a huge help next winter to keep the furnace from blowing all evening to (try) to keep it at 68 degrees in here.  They’re clean and clear (well, mostly clean – the bird dog has already made a nose-smear mess on the big one behind the sofa – an absolutely HUGE window-I didn’t realize how huge until they got it out of the truck to install).  I was concerned in their energy efficiency that my view and sunlight would be dimmed due to the tinting, but it hasn’t affected this at all.  I do notice the tint when looking into the house from outside, but it’s nice to know that this is protecting my furniture from fading.

The same day I installed two of the three appliances I purchased earlier this month.  Well, the technician installed them, not me (in case there was a moment of doubt).  It was the cooktop and the oven.  The cooktop is a Jenn-Air, replacing the prototype Jenn-Air that was in there, limping into oblivion.  This new one is sleek and beautiful, though it will never be as clean as it was for that one day…  The oven is a little under-counter job (and I do mean little – hard to find them that small) to replace the dead one that was in there.  It too is sleek and beautiful – made by Fisher & Paykel (a New Zealand brand, which accounts for it’s NZ pronounciation “Fisher Pike’l”).  It was only $40 more than the GE brand (my only other choice) and loads cuter.  And it’s all about the cute, right?  It’s a convection oven, so my chicken comes out evenly browned and beautifully cooked.  It’s so nice to have an oven again after 3.5 months without one.  I made muffins the other night, as I’d been craving some home baking.  Muffins were “eh” but the baking was GREAT.   Next will be the new dishwasher (also a Fisher-Paykel, on back order). 

Even though I’ve been spending money like I’m making it in the basement (and don’t even have a basement!), it’s great to get these things done and out of the way.  Next up is the roof – the biggest ticket item yet, but the last one too.  After that I’ll start the interior painting.  I was waiting for warmer weather (and windows that open!) so I can ventilate well when I paint, and that’s coming right up!

Seesaw, yo yo, roller coaster days

After four glorious days off work, during which the weather was like something you’d order from a spring catalog, it was back to work today.  And the weather reflected that action too – grey and overcast all day, with rain showers here and there.  I was on such a high from being at home and getting real things accomplished, as opposed to sitting at my desk at work in front of a computer screen all day long without any noticable change, that even the nagging worry I had all weekend was managable.  (And does anyone else wonder at how absolutely bizarre this practice is – all of us rushing like lemmings back and forth five days a week, to sit behind desks and push papers around electronically.)  A couple of “off” encounters with co-workers and a rude encounter on the bus home, and I’m effectively in the dumps.  How did that happen so quickly, when just 24 hours ago I was essentially walking on sunshine? 

Well it could be partly due to my nagging worry, which is, as it often is, my Cutter.  Sometimes he seems to have a particularly hard time with the drugs he’s on to control seizures, and this was one of those weekends.  There’s no question the drugs pound him daily, but some days the  side effects seem worse than others, and he’s more ataxic than usual, or semi-zombiefied where normally he’s just sleepy.  This weekend he was weak and wobbly and sleeping hard all day long.  So I worry.  Is there something else going on or is this just one of his temporary downturns?  Is a seizure pending or are all the drugs working to prevent that?  Is this age related or a bump in the road?  And the big one, will he bounce back or do I need to take him in for tests? 

First off, he isn’t suffering.  There’s no physical pain as far as I can tell, but is he dopey-drugged or actually depressed?  Is he having a hard time dealing with his physical side effects…or is that just me that’s having the hard time?  I found him lying by the side of the driveway midday on Saturday; sprawled would be a better word.  It looked like he collapsed and as I walked up to him, trying to stay calm, I actually wondered if he’d collapsed and expired.  As I knelt by him and stroked his fur he raised his head to look at me sleepily.  Perhaps he just got tired of waiting for Dinah and lay down in the shade of the apple tree; it was at the top of the driveway, which he will avoid going down when he’s feeling tired or lazy–he knows he has to come back up.  Another time I saw him fall on the hill going down to the pasture.  He was following Dinah, who’d turned to come back up the hill.  His legs tangled under him and he took a tumble.  He lay flat on his side, head downhill, and I walked up to him talking to him in a cheerful voice, but part of me breaking inside.  He looked at me without raising his head and seemed so defeated.  It was one of those moments where I question all of it all over again.  Am I going through this hell for him or for me? 

He gets his three medications three times a day, and an hour or two after each med time he’s flattened.  Usually by the next time they’re due he’s a little brighter, with a little more coordination.  I cut one of the medications down by one sixth on his midday dose yesterday, in an effort to give him a little less to deal with.  And of course he had a seizure last night at 2:30 a.m.  I don’t think it was necessarily that tiny drop in dose, but probably something he’s been brewing all weekend.  It looked like he may have had another while I was at work today, though I’m not sure – it’s just a slobber smeared window that I hadn’t noticed before, but no other signs.  Once again I’m left to wonder and to worry and obsess.  And hope.  Hope that he’ll rebound again to something a little brighter, a little more coordinated, a little more engaged in life than he is now.  To my normal, cheerful, brave buddy.  He still follows Dinah around gamely, and still tells the whippersnapper who’s boss, but it’s a little duller than normal. 

I try to act as if nothing’s wrong – he worries if I worry too obviously.  And I don’t want him to feel worse.  I’m going to wait it out for a few days and hope he’s just going through one of his spells.  He’s such an amazing dog, so game and strong and full of stoic courage dealing with the lousy condition of canine epilepsy.  I wish sometimes that I could be as strong as he is, my bigstrongboy, my buddy. 

May Day and beyond

Another two weeks have flown by.  It’s been an extra productive two weeks, with another to follow this week.  First of all, the fence is completely in, and it’s wonderful!  They did a great job especially considering some of the terrain and conditions and it’s a work of beauty; it is so nice to let Farley out the door at night and in the mornings before work without having to leash walk him.  The clearing alone was a job, never mind planting all the fence posts and putting up 1400 feet of field fence with two gates.  I still haven’t figured out how much this adds up to, with regard to how much is left unfenced, but will get out and do the math at some point.  I need to know how much of this is pasture, too, so when I get the critters I plan to get I’ll have an idea what it can support.  I’ll buy hay as needed, but the plan is to have the goats/sheep keep the property cleared and thrive on what grows here rather than import fodder grown elsewhere. 

I moved the hens into the coop last weekend, and they’ve bonded nicely with their new home.  I put up a small (tiny) makeshift pen until I can get to making a nice sized run.  As ridiculously small as the pen is, it’s still larger than their tractor’s space.  I didn’t let them out of  their coop/pen for the first five days, then opened up the door one evening and kept my fingers crossed.  Normally they’ll return to their home at dusk – I just wasn’t sure if they’d see the tractor and think they needed to get in that!  Nope, they returned to their castle and egg laying, such as it is, has continued without a hitch.  Right now I’m using a cardboard box for a nest box, mainly because I haven’t figured out where I want to put the next boxes permanently, though the hens are also improvising and making nests in various places.  The straw bedding  is several inches thick, so they’ve picked a few quiet corners and done their own thing, which is so nice for them.  They love their roosts, and most nights all but a couple are perched on the top roost, about four feet off the ground.  Life is good. 

The chicks continue to grow and are now outgrowing their box in the garage.  They’re nearly ready to move outside – there are four of them that still haven’t feathered out sufficiently to go outside full time (nights), but they’re enjoying the days in the sunshine. 

We’ve had four days of fantastic weather after a week of subnormal temps.  It dipped into the 30s several nights at the end of April and into May and set a few low temperature records.  Combined with the rain coming down in buckets, I was glad I hadn’t switched out of my winter parka yet.  It’s sunny and warm now though, and the nights have been clear and cool-ish, just like May is supposed to be.  And unlike last May’s July heat.  I’m glad it’s back to normal.