Long day....

My day began an hour early. Perhaps not a full hour; when I'm planning on getting up at eight-thirty I tend to wake up a little earlier, and then go back to sleep. But Dad yelled up the stairs at seven-thirty, which is far too early. I think I actually got up nearer eight, though. My alarm clock went off some time after I'd eaten; I believe Peter was milking, and I was sitting on the couch waiting for devotions and realizing that I could've gotten up at my usual time and still have dressed, eaten, etc. by the time everyone else was ready. Sigh.

Then I went on an appliance call with Dad. Peter and Doug were busy, and Owen needed a shower, so I was elected. I have no idea how useful I would've been, but in the event this was not tested. We drove to Panama. We found the place. Dad had me call Owen to get the customers' numbers, in order to ascertain that it was the right house, as there were no visible house numbers. Repeat, until Owen gives the right number. Nobody answers. Dad calls Owen and asks him to get the VOICE News and look up the number for their offices. The owners are not at the office, but the lady who answers the telephone is able to confirm that the beige Mediterranean-style house does indeed belong to the Managing and Advertising editors. So we go and knock, somewhat half-heartedly, and Dad begins trying doors: the front door, the garage door, and the French doors all along the southern side of the house. None have been left unlocked for the scheduled repairman. We left.

At the end of the drive we switched places for a driving lesson. Turning onto the Firth road, I give Dad a heart attack, and most of the drive home is spent practicing left turns. Sigh. So I was late to Jim's.

Jim is expecting his son next week, so there was some extra cleaning to be done. He, meantime, was moving car parts off the living room floor, since the new garage is completed (with the exception of some wiring and the insulation.) This I appreciate, since it's a little hard to vacuum around chunks of engine. There was no such difficulty in vacuuming the guest room, which seems to be where the sci-fi is shelved. The Westerns are mostly in the den.

After that B and Darrel came and got me, so I could try to renew my learner's permit in Beatrice. Unfortunately, as it turned out, I needed to see the tester to accomplish this, and I needed my birth certificate, etc. all over again, so that was a wash-out. I had to sit outside the courthouse and wait for them to get back from picking up a prescription for awhile. It was lovely weather, though, and fortunately none of the employees were on break, so I had the little cement table to myself. We went back to the house to wait for Shane's parents to come get him. Then Darrel took B and me to the Salvation Army. I got lucky: a Terry Pratchett. And we went in the convertible--B splurged on a red Chrysler Sebring. I think that was my first ride in a convertible, but I have a little trouble along the lines of "And they bought this why?" Oh, well, B's spending isn't my problem, thank goodness.

And tomorrow, license unrenewed, Mom and Lark and I are driving to Colorado. (Er, Lark isn't actually going to help with the driving.)

Turkeys and Krav

The turkey chicks came this morning! Dad ordered them from Cackle Hatchery, and they're all heritage breeds, which means they're old-fashioned types in danger of dying out. Cackle Hatchery has photos of them--and ordering info--here. Eight of ours are the Red Bourbon breed, four are Black Spanish, and five are Blue Slate, though one or two of those might be Royal Palm. It's a little difficult to tell now.

We've put them in the pole-barn. Dad set up a dog run in there weeks ago, with tin sheets around the bottom to keep drafts out and chicks in. They don't work very well in either capacity, so the chicks are enclosed in the standard ring of flattened cardboard until they get too big the get through the chain-link. Yesterday Owen put a tarp over the top to keep the cats out, and removed the front of the run from where it's been serving as a gate in the larger stock-fence. So they're well established now, and I'm to check on them every hour or so today.



Last night was testing night at Krav. Mom took me, since Dad had a headache, and we got there in plenty of time. I think the taekwondo testing had been earlier in the day; the punching bags had all been moved to the edges of the mat so they no longer divided the room. Nearly everyone there was testing--I think one man, Pat, was there as an ordinary student, and everyone else was testing. Russ and Stacy were there, and Hannah, Laura, Jen, and a woman named Beth were all testing. I think I may have seen Beth last testing; she has red-gold hair in a ponytail and bangs, and is fairly high-level. There were two other people testing at my level: Stan, who partnered me; and a vaguely Asian guy built like a foothill whose name I haven't gotten yet. Mike had him do the chokes when we got to that part of the test.

I have no idea whether I passed or not. We'll find out next week whether I get my yellow sash or not. There was a depressing amount of stuff that was new, or that I hadn't done in far too long. Also Mike was testing us, after we finished with the focus mitts, and he's a bit intimidating, I guess. Very brisk. He teaches the Monday and Thursday classes, and he always starts us out with calisthenics, of which pushups are the mildest. Well, no--the jumping jacks are. I can do jumping jacks in my sleep, though I hope I never do.


Current plan of action says I'm going to Chicago with Mom and Grandma Jane. Tuesday night after Krav Dad lectured me the entire way home on how dangerous Chicago is, how evil people are, why he didn't want me to go, et cetera. Thanks, Dad. I put up with it, though, because I was only getting it because he was letting me go. Anyway, the plan is to leave around my birthday, and I think we'll stay a couple of days before Mom and I take the train home. We're drawing up a shopping list. *g*

There is one threat to my going, though: Lark's in heat. I need to be here to supervise the situation. If she doesn't go back to normal by the time we leave, I won't be able to go, because I'm abandoning her. It's to be the first time I've traveled without her since I got her, too. She's trained to think that "packing" means "road trip," not "abandonment." Well, puppy, I'm used to both meanings; you can learn 'em too.

The Shepherd's Handbook: Colostrum

As every livestock owner knows, colostrum, the milk first produced by a new mother, is vital to the immediate and future survival of kids and lambs. We try our best to see that everything goes smoothly: Mamma gives birth, cleans up, and within the hour the baby is nursing happily, filling its tummy with that vital colostrum. But sometimes, things don’t go smoothly. Perhaps a lamb was chilled; you come out to the barn and find a newborn, weak and shivering. Has it eaten? Does it need to eat immediately, or is there time to give it other care before feeding? Must you milk the mother? Or can you use the stuff you’ve saved? Too many important questions arise, at a time when you really can’t come inside and Google it, or ask your friends. You need immediate answers so you can take immediate action. Well, here are the answers to those questions.

Your first priority, when you find a weak newborn, should be to feed it. Help it nurse its mother if possible; if not, tube-feed it. That baby should have eaten some colostrum within half an hour of being born, and if it hasn’t eaten within eighteen hours it’s toast. The mother will continue to produce colostrum for up to twenty-four hours after giving birth; during that time, a lamb needs to consume ten percent of its body weight. The milk from the baby’s own mother is best, but if you can’t get it, some colostrum from another new mother in the same herd is next best. Stored colostrum, whether frozen or fresh, comes third. Fresh milk can be refrigerated for up to a week before it begins to lose its virtue; frozen it loses nothing, whether by freezing or thawing, unless exposed to direct heat. Don’t microwave or boil it—bathing the container in hot water is best.

Colostrum serves many purposes for a newborn’s system, but they all, more or less, boil down to one: giving that baby a jump-start in life. Without that crucial first feeding, with its nutrients, immune system boost, and more, a lamb or kid has a drastically reduced hope for survival. As flockmasters, it’s our job to give them the best chance possible at life. I hope this helps.