Potato Towers

     This spring I decided to try a new potato growing method called potato towers. You make a round cage out of wire, run straw on the outside and fill the middle with dirt. You lay down 1 ft. of dirt, a round of potato seed, 1 ft. of dirt- etc. until full.



 

 

     The potatoes grow out sides through the straw, and in the fall you destroy the whole tower and get 3x the potatoes per square foot you would of putting them in the ground, without all that nasty digging business, which I abhor.  In the very top I put a zucchini plant to maximize my "pounds of produce per square foot" and because you want something that likes lots of water and will die before you want to harvest your potatoes. Plus chocolate zucchini cake.

 

     My only change and recommendation is to run a 4 ft. section of perforated field tile (capped on the bottom) through the middle for super easy watering and maxing out the benefit (potatoes per gallon) of the water you are using. They are hard to water without going way overboard to get the sides soaked. Unfortunately I thought this after we set them up fully, and by popular vote they were not tore apart and rebuilt. I get a solid F on water conservation with this design (which is not mine at all by the way, Google 'plant towers' for tons of info).

 

 

     Here is one complete, with the second cage started and Zak being my ever faithful assistant. David of course believes he should get some credit since he did most the dirt hauling from the truck to the cages, but I don't see him in any photos and therefore cannot fully prove he exists. 

     Milo also assisted, in his usual fashion by digging a hole nearby and remaining fascinated by it for the remainder of the day.

     And then here is a totally gratuitous picture of Harley and Possum playing on the bed because they are horrifically cute and I can't find my pictures of my successful and now-potato-laden towers and will have to take another one tomorrow. Or next month since it took me that long to write this blog post on the subject (Blah! Shearing Season Madness!)   

     Oh, and lets have Faithy too, because you need epic cuteness to make up for lacking a decent "after" photo where one should clearly exist. Plus we can't have everyone else and lack Faithy, that is madness beyond the scope of Shearing Season blame.

     (This photo was to capture her "innocent" face while sitting in the midst of destroyed tissue that she is totally "innocent" of destroying.)

The Tunneling Twosome

 

     About a month ago I took in a little foster dog named Possum. Possum is a very unique little dog, and probably the most aptly-named dog I've ever met. Possum gives new level to the words sweet and tolerant. He has the million-mile-an-hour tongue and the desire to belong like I've never met before. He wants to be part of a pack, part of a project, part of a family. He wants this like he wants air. He's desperate to be part of something and he injects himself into everything with wild abandon for fear of loosing his place.

     Then there is Harley Longdog. Harley is just... Harley. He's a certain kind of happy-go-lucky, goofy, mildly slow minded individual that you just can't help but love to be around. He just takes the world as it comes, trodding along to the beat of his own one-of-a-kind drummer. Since no one else really hears or understands Harley's drummer (often we say, "Well, you can't blame him, he's got a dent in his head") he pretty much does his own thing and plays by himself, though he has tons of friends (dog and human) and is a key member of a 4-dog pack, he's still kind of a loner, doing his own thing in life.

     So when we brought Possum home a very quick friendship developed. Possum doesn't care if Harley's drummer has gone mad, because Harley thinks Possum is a great part of his crew, Possum can belong to Harley. This gives Possum a place to belong and a friend, two things he wants more then anything in the world. And it gives Harley a close friend and tunnel digging minion.

     One of Harley's early tunnels, it's about 6-7 ft. long and  deep enough to sink past your ankle and completely break it if you try to sneak into my yard at night. He spent months on this tunnel, working tirelessly and coming inside for naps, then demanding to go back out and get to work. Yes, the other dogs do think he's insane.

     This is one of their early large tunnels together, it circles both trees and is full of smuggled socks and destroyed toys, the first one Harley started storing things in.

 

    With the help of Possum they completed this smaller tunnel in about 40 minutes on a Longdog whim to celebrate a lovely day.

     Their largest tunnel to date is growing to span the width of my entire yard, roughly 150 ft. in a more-or-less straight line. It's a work in progress they keep returning to. I think they get bored with it's excessive length.

     When I go out in the yard Harley immediately drags me over to check out his latest tunneling leg. He prances along, tail and head high, a foreman showing off his latest magnificent project. As you walk the length of it he will occasionally nose an area to indicate buried treasure (generally a gutted toy, a sock, or a highly prized pair of stolen underwear). Most of his tunnels are large enough he can get down in them and walk along, but the one above was a more hastily dug project, only about 4-6" deep.

     Possum prances behind him, delighted with his friend, and their shared project. I don't think he knows why Harley does it either, but he doesn't care. He's having a blast.

     As the tour goes along Harley will usually bark and Possum to go "de-sod the 7th quadrant" or some such silly thing and Possum will excitedly prance off to do exactly that like it's the best thing in the whole world, taking grand joy in every moment.

     I asked him once if there are really quadrants, if this is actually a planned project with a goal in mind. He just laughed and said he's not sure, he just goes and starts digging in a random place and that turns out to BE the 7th quadrant. "He's a genius isn't he? Don't you just love him?" Possum will say, obviously already convinced himself of the answer, while watching Harley bury a pair of underwear it took him 3 weeks to smuggle into the yard.

      "He is definitely something. Not sure genius is the word."

      "You just don't see it yet. Wait till we're done. Genius is definitely the word."  

The End of the Lonely Goat

     Once upon a time, a lonely goat that had lost his family looked for a friend. This lonely goat's minion scoured the earth and found him a fat little sheep who liked goats to be his friend. The goat liked the sheep a bit more then the sheep liked the goat. But she was a sweet good natured mothering sort of sheep, who saw the goats loneliness and decided to be his good friend, even if it was against her better judgment.

     The sheep had no name, and refused to show her personality to the crazy people who fed the goat for fear they would eat her as she heard rumors of such things happening to fat little sheeps. But over time she learned the crazy people merely wanted to feed her grain and scratch her chin, and she decided that they, like the goat, were not as bad as all that after all. 

     Then suddenly the fat little sheep with no name developed an udder. 

     "Ha ha, Surprise!" laughed the tall one.

     The short one's response was less then printable as the cause of the sweet little sheeps fatness was revealed. 

     "She is just like the flowers, pretty to have all year but then *poof surprise* you have a lily!" 

     So thusly the fat little sheep was dubbed, "Surprise Lily" because she did in fact have quite the surprise.

            At 4:30 the next morning the sheep in the barn had become sheeps! A little baby wobbled about and squinted at the world, already dry and fluffy from momma's good care.

     Miss Lily was of course a brilliantly good mother, taking such good care of her baby as to put most to shame. She spent hours grooming, snuggling, nursing and caring for this tiny new creature.

     People came from far and wide to view the epic cuteness that had infiltrated the barn, watching baby antics while the goat greeted them, proud of his new family and eating the people's buttons off their coats.

      Alas the baby had no name, and much discussion was launched amongst the people, who hate naming things more then about anything else.

     "What about Grace? Would Little Gracie be a good name for you, baby sheep?"

     The baby sheep was thinking something more along the lines of Mistress of the Known Universe and Destroyer of the Disobedient, but Gracie had a bit of a nice ring...

     "Miss Gracie Fuzzpot Monkey Butt Fluffbottom!" The baby sheep pranced and leaped across the pen in delight at having such a unique and distinguished name.

     So thus ends the story of the lonely goat who lost his family, because he became the proud and happy goat who had a big family and a baby all his own to raise as an honorary goat and teach to do all the bad things he could think of to drive the people crazy. 

Finis   

    

Great Geckos!!!

     I have been in love with lizards in general and Leopard Geckos in particular for a long time. Unfortunately my mother hates lizards with almost the same passion. So I grew up with toads and the occasional frogs as pets, and visited lizards at pet stores whenever the opportunity arose.

     A few year ago I was helping a friend move and they pulled out a 30 gal. aquarium that leaked and loading it in my truck to go to the dump. The dump! I immediately scavenged it and brought it home. I've kept it for years now with dreams of setting it up as a lizard home.

     In long standing tradition every time my boyfriend and I would go to the pet store I'd go over and plaster my nose to the Leopard Gecko tank. After watching this spectacle numerous time and hearing my reasons for wanting and enjoy these beautiful creatures, one day he did a very bad thing and asked, "Why don't you just get one?"

     So I got two, and I blame him. :)

    

     And now growing up into big geckos! Aren't they just gorgeous!

A New Herdmate

     On valentines day this year I had to put 2 of my goats to sleep. My old mama Zecilly and her son One. Zecilly had slowly developed arthritis over the years, and last winter it got to where she could no longer stand. I helped her around for about a month, carrying her front end in a sling so she could get outside or inside. I put off the inevitable for months, nursing her along as long as she was happy and eating.

     Meanwhile One had developed bone cancer, most noticeably in his lower jaw. He had trouble eating, so I switched him to a soft alfalfa hay and pellets. After awhile he could no longer eat those, and became noticeably uncomfortable. So I called and made him an appointment with my vet, and almost immediately Zecilly stopped eating.

     It crushed me to take them in. But I couldn't let them suffer either. So on Valentines day Two became an only goat.

     He seemed to handle it quite well, he hung out with the alpacas like they were family and was mostly Ok. It didn't seem odd until you'd see him laying out in the rain (which goats hate like it's hell's own acid that falling from the sky) to be with his alpacas. I'd go out and he'd be soaked, shivering, and miserable; but they refused to go in the barn and so he stayed with them. So I began locking everyone in the barn in bad weather, which mostly served to piss the alpacas off more then anything.

     Two is older, and has arthritis in his hind legs. It doesn't usually bother him much, he gimps a bit in cold wet weather but that's about all. But after awhile he started coming up lame more and more often, rather then napping in the sun he was spending the day chasing after the alpacas. Way too much movement and running for old goat joints. Alpacas are not very considerate friends.

     I don't want more goats. I love my goats- too much frankly. The thought of more goats who are not Zecilly and One makes me cry every time I think about it. I couldn't handle looking for another goat, but it was becoming obvious Two couldn't handle alpaca friends. So I tried to have him befriend the horses. In his younger years Two loved the horses. When Cody was new and sickly, the goats slept with him and cared for him. Two used to bully him out of his feed bowl and play chase games with him in the pasture. Cody could be Two's new friend again.

     But Cody wasn't a good friend for the same reasons as the alpacas. He runs too much, he plays too hard. He didn't want to nap in the sun all day. And poor Two started showing more signs for wearing out and not being able to keep up with the others.

     So I was stuck needing a friend. I put out word I was looking for a crippled old goat for a friend to my crippled old goat, because he really didn't need a young goat full of piss and vinegar to try to handle! I got plenty of offers for young goats, but nothing that would just like to nap in the sun and accompany Two in retirement.

     Sunday my alpacas were leaving to be pasture boarded at a friends house so they could be fat and sassy on grass for the summer, which they will love all to bits. And poor Two. He was going to loose the closest things to friends he had, crappy friends though they were.

     So I started hunting the internet for goats or sheep for sale. Surely somewhere! I called a few people, and everyone was happy to sell me baby goats or baby sheep! But it seems most had gotten rid of their older stock because the hay shortage, nobody had old anything.

     David suggested Craigslist. I poshed at him, I never find anything on craigslist! I had a few more places to try before I gave up and bought a baby goat, I planned to call them the next day. Awhile later he called me over to the computer, someone had a polled mini ewe for sale, 3 years old.

     I wrote the gal for information, and we went to see her the next day.

     This tiny sheep was a nurse/friend for the womans baby goats! She used her as a pasture buddy for babies, but had moved her goats and now this little sheep was by herself with no job. She was super calm, sweet, tiny, and loved goats!

     Needless to say, I had found a friend! We loaded her in the back seat of the car, and came home (with a stop at Smiths for a bag of sweet feed so she'd make friends with me too).

     So now little Miss No-Name Sheep is hanging out in the barn with Mr. Two, becoming friends. I explained to her that her only job was to be sweet to him and she'd have all the food she wanted and a warm place to live for all her days. Plus, I will get wool next year! The benefits abound!

     The tag in her ear must go, it's making me twitchy, but I'll wait until she is settled in and happy here. I don't know her breed, she's tiny compared to most the sheep I've dealt with, and especially tiny next to Two.

     They will have their own small pasture and stall, so nobody can bug them or pick on Two. They can eat and sunbathe all day and rest arthritic joints in cushy retirement. I couldn't be happier with finding her, and I pray she and Two fall madly in love and are the best of friends. And double awesome points to David for digging about on craigslist until he found a perfect Two-companion candidate. My heart wasn't handling it, and he found a real tiny sweet sheep gem for my giant sweet old goat. :)

Harley's Handsome Coat

     Harley loves to go outside and play. Usually it's hard to get him and Faith to come inside. But one morning it was cold. He ran for the door, put his face and front legs through (which left plenty of him still on the house) and put on the brakes. Nope!

     So I began catching and leashing the long dog to force him out into the cold where he would shiver and whine as he peed and ran for the house. He is not a winter dog.

      So where on earth do you buy a coat for a cold little long dog? 22" long to be exact!

     From DoxandDane on Etsy!

     Look at that handsome boy! I found this wonderful woman on etsy named Janae who makes awesome custom coats, they have a chest covering and can be made to fit any odd-shaped dog. You customize the whole thing to your dog's size and shape.

     I sent her Harley's measurement and the colors he likes, and I got a custom made long dog coat!

 

     It has a tendancy to billow out behind him when he runs, so I call it his cape. This is purely because he is sooooo long, I think I will probably put some elastic leg bands on it for him. He is, stretched from nose to tail, well over 3 ft. long! The current guess is Dauschund/Golden Retriever, one day I may buy one of those DNA kits just to find out. Check out those HUGE thick legs. I can't wrap my fingers around his legs they are so thick, he has thicker legs them most of the mini horses I work on!

 

     Plus those giant, knobby, crooked knees! Watching him run is like watching an inchworm inch, lots of back and no legs involved.

 

    

     But he has one of the funnest personalities you will ever find on a dog, and I don't think I'll ever meet a more stable, happy minded soul. He is AWESOME for rehabbing other dogs. He is just that solid, stable, calm soul that they need to work with. I find him becoming my go-to dog with anyone with issues of any kind, or even just normal training work.

 

     So now my long dog love is cozy warm for the coming winter; if he gets out from under the blankets to see it.

 

     Thank you Janea! http://www.etsy.com/shop/DoxandDane Visit her store to see all kind cool designs she has. Mom MUST have one of her Bronco's coats for the crazed Peyton :)



    

Pottery Madness

     My boyfriend David got into pottery last winter, and had a blast making all kinds of cool things to fill the cabinets of friends and relatives. I was slowly lured in; helping him fire, helping him glaze, babysitting the kiln. Then it comes to the point of, "Hells bells I do everything but throw!" and you give in to the new craft you weren't going to start because you have too many craft projects to begin with. Plus I had a 'want'.

     Custom dog bowls for my dogs!

      So I'm making heavy duty customized dog bowls for my crew. And then I started telling people, and now I've got a list of dog bowl Christmas presents for all my friends dogs. Now I have gads and gads of dog bowls, and Faith is the only one with her own so far!

     So it's a fun new hobby and with both of us playing we needed more room, so my mud room is now a pottery studio, or more appropaitely, it's still a mud room! Extra bonus of concrete floors means very easy cleanup.

     Pottery is a very messy business as you can see. And I invest in the most pricey of chairs for my mud work.  

     Of course I couldn't do these things without assistance, and my main assistant is Misty Moo, my disabled bun.

 
     Those who follow the blog know of Miss Misty. Her best bunny buddy Sapphire passed away recently of old age, and now Misty has been diagnosed with a degenerative spinal condition. The condition is a result of raising rabbits in cages too small, they can't play and their spines don't develop properly. As they age the spine calcifies until they become paralysed. Misty isn't paralysed yet, but she can't stand up on her own or clean herself, so she has to stay in a small, heavily bedded cage to keep her clean and so she always has access to her food and water. She's on medicine that may help her be able to walk, I am hoping it works so she can have more freedom, but until then she has to stay in her cage. But she is quite pleased with herself and all the attention she gets now, she bangs her water bowl around or kicks the back wall when she wants something, and watches pottery making like TV.

     Then of course Elliot helps. Or more Elliot complains because I won't let him on my shoulders or lap while I throw, or he'd end up in the clay. He doesn't believe this is a good reason though, and gives me a lot of "The Face of Cat Displeasure".

 
     And I wouldn't be doing anything without Zak! What madness.

     Of course, whether I want it or not, I always get Daisy's opinion.

      And it's just never positive. :)