The Garden is done

We had a cold snap last week, and I was home with a cold so I didn't want to go out and do anything to the garden. Everything growing out there, except a few herbs, was cold-weather plants like cabbage, broccoli, and kale, plus the remaining chard, spinach and onions, so I let them tough it out.

Ouch! Bad idea! Everything is wilted flat to the ground!

 The winter greens...

The chard and spinach

 The sage was the only thing tough enough to look unfazed by the drop to 19 degrees!

I think I'll be turning over the dead stuff into the rows and toss some of the cut grass from the field on there, or compost, or I have a friend with  livestock who's going to bring over some manure to put down. I'll let it cook until spring and then we'll be ready to go again. Eventually I want my garden to produce year around, but I'm pretty happy with how this year went - even though the weather never cooperated for most of it. I learned a lot, and I'll be looking forward to pickling my own cukes next year!
 

 The pasture looks beautiful. The cold has slowed the grass down, and it's been flooded a couple times. 

Barclay the farm dog! Just hanging out with me.

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Therapy dog testing - done!


Yay - Barclay passed his Therapy Dog International evaluation, and that included the AKC Canine Good Citizen certification as well! What a good boy!

Testing was done at our friend Alison's dog training school, Everyday Dog in Vancouver. It's not a big facility, and I think we had 12 dogs in the first group - ranging from a little Shih Tzu type dog to a Great Dane that was literally as big as a small horse! We all crowded over to one side of the room so there was room to do the testing on the other side.

Testing involved things like walking on a leash, meeting a stranger for greeting, letting a stranger pet them and brush them, handle ears and feet. Then there were a few other tests like walking through a crowd which included people in walkers and wheelchairs stopping to pet him, and walking back and forth while people ran by, squeaking balls and banging metal dishes together. Even if he hadn't passed it would have been a great experience for him, but he did fine, especially for being in a room full of strange dogs and commotions! I think the surroundings were the real test!

When we finish sending in the paperwork Barclay will be certified to go visit places like hospitals and retirement homes or do the in-school reading programs where kids read to dogs. We have friends in the dog club who do this with their Great Pyrenees and they say it's very rewarding to see how much the dogs do for people and how much they enjoy their company.

The Canine Good Citizen certification isn't as big a deal, but I trained Alki for it when she was a pup, and we moved right before she was supposed to take the test - so we never got back around to doing that, though I always wanted to and I knew she could have passed easily. So I feel good that Barclay has his CGC now, because he is a very good boy, and I think the CGC is a great program.

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Small victories

Navi has been scared of getting in the car since we got her. In fact before we adopted her, when I just knew her at the dog park, she didn't like riding in the car. So I knew that was an issue. Unfortunately it's kind of a big issue, because of where we live we can't just head out the door and go for a walk. Rural roads with no sidewalks, just speeding cars with a ditch along the side of the road are not conductive to going for relaxing dog walks. So to get out we pretty much have to go for a drive to get somewhere safe to walk. But poor Navi would strain at the leash to stay away from the car, and then when put in it she would sit in the back seat, head hung down, drooling and miserable. That miserable experience was making every trip a bit more difficult than the last.

Since Navi didn't like the car, I tried desensitizing her to it by letting them play around the van, hopping in and out freely for treats. Once she felt better about that I would close them up in the van while we hung out and had treats, then let her go. When she was comfortable with that I would close her in the van and back it up the length of the driveway and drive back up to the house. Last week I took her in the van into town (a nice short drive) for a fun walk at the park with our dog friends. Today I took her for another ride just to go pick Dave up at work, and she did fine again. We even stopped at the feed store and she went in with me and said hi to the cashier. Then we came back out and she jumped right in the van with just a little encouragement.

So the car issue is slowly becoming a non-issue. I'm looking forward to being able to just take her for a ride, then we can go for more walks, and go to dog training and stuff like that. Because right now she's just having fun around the house:

Here she is eating an egg. I think it's the first time I've given her a whole egg. It took her a while to figure out what to do with it. 

 Barclay knows how to get into an egg. It's one of his favorite perks of living on the farm!

 It's hard to get pictures of Navi, they always seem to come out like this!

Or this! Fuzzy dog!

Unless she stops to chew on a giant bone.

Barclay's favorite thing in the world is playing with his flirt pole, or as we call it 'stickball'. He gets a hold of the ball and doesn't want to let it go, but when I get it back he loves chasing it and jumping in the air to snatch it back! 

Navi likes to get involved by getting between him and the stick. Notice how Barclay keeps a foot on the rope, just to make sure I don't get it away from him.

He never gets grouchy with her, he just patiently waits for her to get out of the way so he can play some more.

So I get the ball back and swing it around, and all eyes are on the ball.

Barclay is not only acrobatic in his leaps and spins to get the ball, but he does an amazing job of calculating where the ball will swing to, and is often in mid-air waiting for it. And then Navi gets involved...

They make me laugh all the time!




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Barclay - future therapy dog?


Beautiful Barclay is in training to pass his therapy dog certification later this month. Tonight we went to dog class and did a bunch of free-form training - working on attention, heeling, doing a long stay. He did great, even working with other dogs loose in the room at the same time. He's a real doll, such a nice boy to people and animals alike. I don't know exactly what we'll do if he passes and gets his certification, but it sounds like it's right up his alley. With his friendly and mellow personality he'd probably be great at hospital visits.


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The colorful side of my family

Looking up family history for Veterans Day, I ran across a few other pictures to share, and a few stories I thought I'd write down before I forget them, because there's no one else in the world left who's been told these stories. Unfortunately, all those folks are gone.

It seems like the Oklahoma side (my Dad's side) of the family was the more colorful, or maybe they were just the storytellers. I really don't know any stories from my mom's side, even though I grew up spending time equally between both camps (never the two would mix, even though they lived three blocks apart, but that's a story for another time).

I guess the thing that makes them colorful is all the drama. And drama is a great thing for story telling, but it's often a lousy thing to live through. And so it was for my family.

My grandma (Oda Fay) met her husband (James) at her cousin's birthday party. Unfortunately James was her cousin's boyfriend at the time! He was a handsome older man - 25 years older! in 1940 he was a mysterious stranger who had recently arrived in town, and nobody knew his family or much about his background. 25 year old Oda and James disappeared during the party, and turned up the next day - married! What do you imagine her parents thought when she turned up married to a stranger who was the same age as they were?!


By 1946 Oda and James were surrounded by their brood of four bouncing happy kids - Little Jim, Charles, Dannel, and baby Marjorie Faye. Little Jim would be my dad someday, and the only one of the gang to have a family of his own.  In 1952, when Little Jim was 12 and baby Marge was 6, James passed away, leaving a large family to survive on their own. I believe they were helped out by his veteran's benefits for the widow and family.

Oda lived with her mom and dad, and got help from her sister Dormalee and brother Dolan 'Red'. But four kids was a lot to take care of, and Oda had the horrible misfortune to be struck by tuberculosis. Called The White Plague "Because the disease is deadly and highly infectious, victims were isolated in special hospitals called sanatoriums, where at the beginning of the century, at least, they lived out their last days with other patients. The death rate from tuberculosis in 1950 was only 11 percent of what it was in 1900; still 33,633 people died from the disease that year. By 1955 the number of deaths from tuberculosis had been halved."

 Indeed, Oda Fay had no choice but to go to a sanatorium in far away Arizona, leaving her four little ones in the hands of her elderly parents. Three rambunctious boys and a precious little girl. And for some reason, a horrible choice was made - one that would haunt the family for the rest of their years. After having just lost their father, the kids lost their mother as she was sent to the hospital, and then they lost each other. The family was broken up. Little Jim was sent to an orphanage. Marge stayed with her grandparents. I don't know if the other two went to the orphanage or to other family. I think the assumption was that Jim would handle it best, being the oldest. At the time of course they didn't know if she would survive the tuberculosis, a lot of people didn't. It turned out the breakup was only temporary, and some time later Oda recovered and came back from the sanatorium (with only one lung was the story, though maybe it was only one working lung, or the equivalent of one) and everyone was back together, but the damage done lasted a lifetime.

It's funny to think how kids grow. From a 12 year old to a 17 year old is five years and a world of difference. Somewhere in that period, my dad was abandoned by his family and spent some time, a few months, a year, I don't know how long, in an orphanage. He said the only thing that kept his spirits up during that time was getting his issue of MAD magazine, and he'd sit outside and read it and laugh and forget where he was. He ran away from the orphanage repeatedly, trying to go home, and they kept sending him back. When folks talk about the post-war prosperity of the 'good old days' of the 50's, they leave that part out.

When then family was reunited he was a teenager, and he was understandably upset. He had a hard time connecting back up with the family. Things were strained. Dormalee had bought a house in Portland, OR, and invited her favorite nephew to come out and join her, invited the whole family actually, but they didn't want to move until Marge graduated. The kids were all in school in Sapulpa, and Oda had a cafe on Route 66 where she was slinging hash to support the family. So 'Little' Jim moved out to Oregon for his senior year, and his nickname changed to 'Big Jim'


He drank too much, partied with his buddies, raced his 57 Chevy 2-door post at the strip, ruined Dormalee's beloved Edsel squirreling around on Larch Mountain (something she reminded him about for the next 25 years), and somehow failed to actually graduate high school. But he had a home. For the rest of his life he had a strained relationship with his mother for abandoning him, and with the brothers and sister who were chosen to stay with family while he was sent away. Dormalee managed to be the hub that kept the family connected.

So next time I will have to tell you about how Big Jim got his girlfriend in trouble, and was forced to do the right thing, which lasted the rest of his life, for better or worse...


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