Pentecost Sunday

Come Holy Ghost...

...fill the hearts of thy faithful and kindle in them the fire of thy love.V. Send forth thy Spirit, and they shall be created.R. And Thou shall renew the face of the earth.

Let us pray.
O, God, who by the light of the Holy Ghost, didst instruct the hearts of thy faithful, grant that by the same Spirit we may be truly wise and ever rejoice in His consolations. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

Goat Milking: 101

Here's Stella. Due to a rough start, she's painfully thin, but we're fattening her up on good prairie grass, leafy alfalfa, and sweet feed (a prepared corn/grain mix, coated in molasses ~ so good, the kids like to munch on it!).

And here's our sweet girl all set up on the stanchion, starting to munch on her sweet feed. She's a picky eater and manages somehow to pick out all the corn, and leave most of the rest of the grain in the bucket. How she does that with only her tongue and teeth, and her eyes way atop her head where she can't see, I have no idea! Here's good ole (bald) Dominic, showing Cathy how to wash the teets and udders, and brush off any hay or dirt that might fall into the milk pail while milking. To "bring down" Stella's milk, he shows how to knead the udders.

Then he explains good milking technique: use the crook between your thumb and index finger to "stop" the milk, or else, when you squeeze, it'll go right back up into the udder instead of out the teet hole.

Stella's young and her teets are short, so big people have to "squeeze out" with only their index and middle fingers, but the little girls can use all but their pinkies. Stella is a perfect little girl goat. Here's the first squeeze.

Here's Cathy having a go at it. She figured it out after only a couple of squeezes.

Dominic showing the art of hitting the teets with the teet spray after all the milk has been milked out. This cold little blast serves to close the teet hole and disinfect the teets to prevent infection.

And back Stella goes to the barn to brag to the other goats about that bucket of sweet feed.

While Cathy and Gabe run the milk back to the house.

(Don't run with the milk, CATHERINE!)

And Mom processes the morning milk, straining it into a pitcher, then setting it into ice water to cool quickly.

Then it's wash up time.

And time for a cool, creamy drink of fresh, fresh milk.

"Yummy!"

Quick Takes

I'm afraid I've spent most of the week looking back on our mountain vacation and doodling around the edges of what's really going on around here. I guess this is a good opportunity to get caught up. There's been a lot going on.

First of all, our boarding school boys are back -- and I would be so tickled to have all my children together again -- if I ever saw any of them!

Here's the scoop: We got back from Jon's graduation two Sundays ago, with Jon and Dominic both in tow, but then, Dan and I left for Ouray on Tuesday, and didn't see everyone again until Saturday.

Then Saturday was taken up with the girls' big piano recital and visiting with Grandma and Grandpa who were in town.

Then, on Sunday, all the boys went to play baseball and volleyball at the park (the day the snake was in the henhouse), and we didn't see them until late.

Then, Monday was Memorial Day, which was Homeschool Field Day; Dan stayed at the park with the big kids -- in the rain and mud all day -- running and playing, but I came home early with the two little boys who were cold and miserable.

Then, the three littlest girls, Theresa, Cathy, and Anna, spent the night that night at a friend's house so they could hitch a ride to Cathlic Girls' Camp in eastern Colorado. The camp was scheduled from Tuedsday through noon today. But it was cut a little short for a couple of the girls because...

I got a call last night around five thirty from Sister at Girls' Camp. Anna had run into a fence and was at the hospital needing stitches -- smack in the middle of her forehead. Anna said she didn't need me to come, but Mama knows better. I slipped my shoes on, grabbed my purse, and headed east. Got there by eight o'clock. When I got there she was just fine and dandy, sipping an ice cream float in the basement rec-room of the church (Sister said she was as brave as could be at the hospital, not a tear was shed through the whole ordeal), but she was glad to see Mommy and happy to go home to sleep in her own bed. We gathered her and her belongings, brought Cathy along for the ride (who was ready to sleep in her own bed, too), and headed home. Got here around eleven last night. Theresa should arrive home this afternoon with the Denver carpool. Then we'll all be together again. For a minute or two maybe.

I forgot to mention that on Memorial Day, after the Homeschool Field Day, Dan went and picked up another goat, this one a milker. Her name is Stella, so now, when the kids get their breakfast in the morning, they specify either "store milk" or "Stella milk." She's a tiny doe on her first "freshening," and is skinny from having a very big kid nursing on her --She's producing less than a half gallon a day right now, not enough for our daily use. But, come next kidding season, we hope to have both Stella and Sweetie milking -- which should fill our needs better. (I'll post some shots tomorrow of Cathy learning how to milk.)

In the midst of all the comings and goings, we've actually been able to get a lot of outdoor work done. The boys and Michelle have been working hard on the property, mowing and trimming trees. That, along with God's gift of a rainy spring has the place looking almost park-like. Unusual for here. It's usually so dry and windy, that by early summer, everything is fried and dried, brown and tan. We're enjoying the green while we can.

We've got the garden going, though it's slow going so far. Our nights have only just gotten warm enough for summer vegges like peppers and tomatoes. I stupidly set out some peppers too early and have already lost several baby pepper plants. (So sad. I knew them when they were only seeds.)

These (below) look like overgrown prairie dog holes, but are really pumpkin hills. This will be St. Philomena's Fall Garden up top here. We're starting three kinds of pumpkins, goblin egg gourds, and, if we can get a tiller going, we'll scatter some ornamental corn about.
Here's Gabe by the spinach bed. We have peas starting behind him on the wire "tunnel." This area is the St. Patrick garden. We'll have wildflowers in the patch you see dug up there in front of the peas. And we're on the lookout for a celtic cross to put in there somewhere. And, here is the long bed where radishes, lettuce, carrots, cukes, and zukes are planted. Only one rotation of radishes and lettuce is up, though. When the peas on the fence are spent, the tomatoes will be getting going. At that time this patch, will officially be called "St. Thomas's Tomato Patch." (See that durn grass along the bottom of the fence? Makes me crazy, but it's a bugger to pull out!)

Pictured below is the backyard, the only place we have real grass sown. From here, like in one of the above pictures of the north yard you can see the evidence of the hard winters a couple years ago, paired with drought, and a dutch elm disease epidemic. See the poor trees? The boys have been spending a good part of their time this week cutting out dead branches, and figuring out the best way to take out dead trees and giant limbs without having them fall on fences or rooftops. Good creative problem solving projects. I generally avoid watching them do the actual cutting, though, and depend heavily on their Guardian Angels and commons sense not to fall out of a tree or have a tree fall on top of them.


Below are our prize Therese Bugnet roses. They've thrived in spite of blizzard, drought, and storm, since our Theresa was born, eleven years ago. They perfume the whole property in late spring. The bloom doesn't last more than a couple weeks, but it's worth the wait every year. We're hoping to take some of the "starts" from this plant and move them over by the Mary garden. This end of the perennial beds we hope to expand, adding more roses to make it our official St. Therese rose garden.

And, last, but not least, some of the joys of summer here at our house:

A Tiger in the Grass

Early morning tea, toast, and jam, just Mommy and the little boys.

(Everyone else was snoozing and missed all the fun!)

Chimes tangled by the prairie breezes

The new fire pit Michelle and I built with the little girls, ready for its first campfire.

Dog day afternoons.

Work in the cool of the mornin', laze away the afternoon. Summer memories they'll try to recapture their whole lives, though they may not know it now...

* Make sure and run over to Conversion Diary for more Quick Take Friday Posts!

Ohmygosh!

You've just gotta check out this denver baristo/artisto who creates likenesses of his customers in the coffee he serves them! AMAZING!


Gotta go find this coffee shop!



(Thanks for the tip, Sparky!)

Real quick...

Before I run out to weed the peas.

Crafty Crow (my favorite kid-craft resource) is going through the alphabet, linking to crafts for each letter. Which, of course, is too much fun if you have one child just out of kindygarten, and another one going in this fall...

But, check this out. Tucked into one of the daily posts there, I found a recommendation for a new blog full of fun nature projects for the kids. It's called The Magnifying Glass.

Crafty Crow also linked to a site, Imagine Childhood, which has some great products to check out and a beautiful blog, that features the most gorgeous nature walks all over the world.

And, in my wanderings started there, I found this blog full of great nature ideas and inspiration. Great ways to keep learning alive through the summer -- and beyond!

What did I come over here for?

I can't remember, so I guess I'll sit down and write a post about it.

~*~*~*~*~

Everyone has photographic memory.

Some just don't have film.

~ Stephen Wright

That's me. No film. To borrow another simile, I have a brain like a seive. I barely remember what I had for breakfast this morning, and don't ask me what I did last weekend. Or last month. Or what I got for Christmas. Or what year any one of my children was born. Or who their godparents are. Or what I just walked into this room to do...

I might be able to drag a lost item up out of my memory banks if there's something remarkable that impressed itself so solidly on the interior of my brain that it's practically visible on the exterior. But, otherwise, I've learned to only fumble around for a minute or two before I ask the children what it was I was trying to remember. Sometimes they remember, sometimes they make something up. I don't know what the ratio of truth and fiction is, though. How would I?

I have a collection of excuses for my memory handicap, good for a variety of situations, depending upon how believable I need to be or how silly I don't mind appearing...

I can't think/remember because:

* I have early onset of senility (One of my favorite excuses and especially believable to the teen and twenties set)

* I'm distracted by the multitudinous responsibilities of my station (Feasible excuse, esp to other mothers, I think)

* Humidity curling my hair affects the pattern of my brain waves (Anyone who already thinks I'm an airhead believes this one)

* I'm suffering early onset of menopause (Other menopausal women understand that mushy-brain syndrome is really a symptom; young women squint with worry; kids don't have a clue what you're talking about; men just roll their eyes)

* I was out in the sun so long weeding the garden that someone else was told to weed -ahem!- that my brain is literally fried (Kids just roll their eyes at this one -- no way they'll be guilted out)

* I'm buzzing on coffee, and can't gather my thoughts because they're flitting around my brain on caffeine fizz (That's believable, isn't it?)

* Caffeine withdrawal headaches make it impossible to think straight (Just as believable, surely!)

* I was up all night with the baby (Would work if I had a baby at the moment...)

* I was up all night with insomnia (Elicits scores of advice on how to conquer insomnia, but only a little sympathy for how it makes me forget all my children's names -- and how I can't remember whose clothes are whose when I do laundry)

* I was up all night trying to load pictures onto Blogger (Gets total sympathy from other bloggers, but mystification from just about anyone else)

** There are probably more, but I can't remember them.

*** Definition for my children: film - n. A thin sheet or strip of flexible material, such as a cellulose derivative or a thermoplastic resin, coated with a photosensitive emulsion and used to make photographic negatives or transparencies.

****Translation of the definition: It's the stuff you used to put in old-time cameras to make pictures -- you took it out of the camera after you filled up its quota of pictures and took it to the photo processing center to have it developed. It's akin to a memory card, sorta. So, the analogy here would be the comparison of bad memory and very little memory on your memory card. Or having a faulty memory card that undependably recorded the pictures you took with your digital. Get it?

The Things You Find

"K"

"O"

"V"

"J"

"X"

"Y"

"L"

And a perfect little Apostrophe!

Fun Thing To Do: Look for all the letters of the alphabet, naturally occurring in nature.
(Seven down, nineteen to go!)