Posted in Uncategorized

Texas Guinan

Posted on by Janet

Naming goats can be a lot like shopping for the perfect piece of cloth or dress.As a child and youth, Momma and I would go to a cloth store and she would tell me, “you’ll know it when you see it.” (See more photos by clicking the link to the blog)  Often, my cloth selections were bold and not the dainty calico prints one expected. 

Thank you to all of the name suggestions for the newest goat edition to the farm. We tried out the top suggestions of Mary Tyler Moore, Bette Midler, Princess Leia, and Carrie Fisher.  It sounds odd, but our goats, Jim and I all come to a consensus on the final names. This time, we chose..Texas Guinan. 


Now, you’re shaking your head puzzled and saying, “that wasn’t on the list!” Or asking “Who is that?”

In baby goat’s first picture, she reminded Jim and I of Whoopi Goldberg’s character “Guinan” on Star Trek The Next Generation and her signature wardrobe.
Shhh, we are closet Trekkies…ok, fine, we’re openly Star Trek fans. We also love Doctor Who (yes, the name Clara Oswald came up as a close second). Whoopi Goldberg was a huge fan of the TNG show, and Gene Roddenberry created the character of Guinan, named after Texas Guinan, “Queen of the Night Clubs“. We liked the Sister Act movies and decided that Texas Guinan would be a fitting tribute. 

So, “Texas Guinan” it is! 
Watch a YouTube clip of Guinan here (or by clicking the link on Guinan): https://youtu.be/h8oyCGrbhpc

Watch stock footage of Texas Guinan here: https://youtu.be/qSFSf5tZSSU




Posted in Raised by a village

Vote: Baby Girl Goat Name Suggestion

Posted on by Janet

We love to hear name suggestions for the goats.  Keep in mind that most of our goats are named after celebrities or fictional characters.  We may or may not choose the most popular.  Besides, 3 of our other goats named Betty White, Julie Andrews and Vera Wang are pregnant and due within the next few weeks, so we’ll ask for more names again 🙂

This little beautiful female was born on 2/1/2017 to our goat named Rita Rudner.  New baby girl was 3 pounds and is black and white spotted.

Here’s the link and poll to share your name suggestion for our newest addition to the herd:

Posted in goatlife, Raised by a village

Status check: It’s a Girl

Posted on by Janet

It’s a Girl!! Rita Rudner delivered a beautiful black and white spotted 3 pound kid. She is adorable. Now, we need a name for her. I walked outside to take a photo of ZsaZsa-Noel on top of a hay bale,  and I saw something near Rita at the water bucket. I ran inside yelling, “we’ve got a new baby goat!!”

Last night, Jim asked, “How are the goats?”

I replied, “Julie Andrews, Betty White, Rita Rudner and Vera Wang are all still pregnant.”

“How are the donkeys?”

“Ney’s nose is healing from where his brother Pete bit him.”

“How many barn cats showed up tonight?”

“Just Soot and Tink. I think Peter Pan found better food elsewhere.”

“How was work?”

“Good. I wrote a nested IF (AND (OR statement that made people cringe.  How was your day?”

This my friends is a typical conversation for us. 

And I answer typical questions from others like

Q: “So Janet, how many eggs does a chicken lay?”

A: Usually one per day depending on the breed and age.

“Why do you have goats?”

A: I like goats. They manage the pastures so I don’t have to mow.

“Why do you have donkeys?”

A: to protect the goats and to eat grass. They make me laugh.

“Why haven’t you put up new pictures of the baby goat?”

A: Daylight standard time.

“Do you sell pineapples? ”

A: I live closer office than I do to the equator. 

“Can you write are formula to calculate……..?”

A: probably. Let’s talk about your request 

So I don’t only talk about goats, but sometimes the conversation just returns to farm topics. 

And yes, when I display pictures of kids, they have 4 legs. 

Posted in Uncategorized

You be You

Posted on by Janet

My great-grandmother was described to me as “a handsome, fierce woman who ran the family farm” and who struck fear in the eyes of many. Combine her strength with that of my maternal grandmother who encouraged my late mother to be the very best, and you get a glimpse of my history and genetics. Toss in my upbringing on the farm with my father telling me to get an education, stand up for what’s right, stand up for myself, to use the brains I was given, and the varnish of me can be explained (just a little). At the same time, I was told to act like a lady, stand up straight, and don’t take any crap. 

In 1989, I was in Washington, DC at a national youth conference during a women’s march. It was a culture shock to a rural farm girl. I knew hard work, and I butted-heads with those who opposed my often independently bold ideas. Twenty-nine years later, I watched streaming world-wide women’s marches online. I raised my pitchfork and tossed 40-pound bales of hay to my herd of goats and donkeys. I was not there among the crowds, but I encouraged many to go. 

For those who know me personally, you know that I encourage you to be bold. I encourage you to help. I encourage you to be the best you can be. I stand for equality among women AND men. 

The culture shocks and experiences that changed my views on the world are mine. I defend my family, my faith and my friends. We do not agree on everything. Yet our ability to stand up for human rights and how we help one another is at the very core of what makes us human. 

I volunteer with the United Methodist Women and serve as a district president. I served as a short term missionary to the Philippines in 2012, Cambodia in 2015, and visited South Korea both times. Connecting with women of villages in two of these countries, where advanced medical technologies of maternal health may never be available, reminded me of the first-world issues that we take for granted. Standing in the killing fields of Cambodia, where only 40 years ago a tyrant leader killed millions of his own people (educated, intelligent souls), shines a light on the blessings we have and the atrocities we never saw. They drained the swamps, and they found skeletal remains of people whose lives were cut short. When swamps are drained, the monsters remain; the water no longer hides the mystery. 

In 1984, my mother went to Saudi Arabia on a medical team to teach CPR and first aid to the men and boys. During her two months there, she taught while covered in the traditional burkas and had male translators. As an American nursing instructor, she had been told that she would not have to cover her head. However, during a trip through the market, police tapped her on the head with clubs. The translator explained that the police were forcing them to cover their heads, or they faced arrest and beatings. 

When a male student asked the translator why he should listen to a woman, my mother explained, “so that if your son chokes on a grape, you can save his life.” She first shined the light on the fact that not all countries allow women to have the same freedoms that we have. She first taught me that we were created as help-mates, but that being created in God’s image means that the Sovereign created us to be whole persons. And it is a well-known fact that our hearts all look the same on an operating table. 

I can only be the very best I can be. I can only encourage you to offer a kind word. I can only ask that you be you and I‘ll be me…and together, we build relationships of understanding, appreciation and compassion. 

Oh, and here’s a random goat picture of the herd impatiently nibbling while I tried to store the new bales. 

Posted in Off the Farm, Raised by a village

Random Acts of Waxing

Posted on by Janet

I just wanted to wash the salt, slag, snow and road grime from my car. So, on Sunday, I drove to the nearest 4-bay do-it-yourself spray and wash where I found at least 7 other drivers feverishly scrubbing the previous week’s snow memories. Just as I finished vacuuming a month’s worth of dirt from my floorboards, a young guy in a pickup truck wheeled into the bay I faced and started spraying his truck.

I backed out and lined up behind a guy who I thought was drying his car. Nope, he was smoking a cigarette and slowly pulling dried wax from his car with the corner of a dish towel. He turned to chat with another guy leaning against the brick wall smoking a cigarette.  I had a choice. I could either be upset, sit in the car and make faces at the guys…or I could be me. 

I popped the trunk, pulled three mismatched socks from a bag intended for a donation bin and asked, “Hey, can I help you wax your car?” 

The waxing guy said, “uh if you want to, but that side is still drying.” I pulled the socks on each hand and started waxing circles, removing the dried wax from the shiny car. He asked, “What’s your name?” I replied, “Janet” as I continued my Karate Kid moves of wax-on-wax-off. By this time, I finished the driver’s door and was starting on the hood. 

He asked, “so, do you wax your car?” 

I said, “hardly ever! I’ve got farm chores and just want to get my car washed so I can go do other stuff. I’ve got work tomorrow.”  

He asked, “so you’re helping me wax my car? By the way, this is my brother.”

 I said, “great, here’s an extra sock, you wax that side and we’ll get this knocked out.” 

The other guy took the worn sock and dabbed at the mirror.  I said, “put the sock on your hand and rub in circles. Like this…”

The first guy said, “I work on bridge construction.  …I can’t believe you’re waxing my car. Some other guy just stopped here and was being a jerk about me waxing my car…but we’ve got another car in the garage at home so I can’t do it in there.” 

I asked, “wonder why he did that? You paid your quarters to wash…” 

He replied, “I don’t know. You know how guys are..always trying to see whose got a bigger hat.” 

I said, “oh I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

He said, “I feel like I should offer you a beer or something for helping me.” 

I replied, “Now you boys aren’t out here drinking and driving are you? You know that’s the quickest way to lose your ride.” 

He said, “No …no, we’re not drinking. We just live right over here.”  

By this time, I finished pulling the wax from the trunk and the hood. I peeled the socks from my hands. The brother asked, “you want your socks back?” I said, “nope, they’re trash now.” 

He exclaimed, “I thought you were taking them to Goodwill.” 

I replied, “you can’t take waxed socks to Goodwill! They’re rags now. Besides, they did good will. It’s clean.” 

Puzzled, he shook his head and extinguished his still-lit cigarette.  

I walked back to my car, and they drove out of the bay to finish detailing. I washed my car and finished my Sunday afternoon. 

Crazy? Probably. That guy will be telling a story of some older lady who helped wax his car after another guy was a jerk. 

At least now I know the reason for not dropping the bag of mismatched socks at the clothing dropbox…they worked great as wax rags. 

Posted in Off the Farm, Raised by a village

Internationally Inspired Birthday 

Posted on by Janet

Celebrating a birthday in January is always a roulette game. Growing up, I had several parties cancelled because of icy weather, like my 6th and 9th birthday parties. 

This year, I braced myself for a low key birthday lunch that would happen sometime during the month. If we had good weather, it would be on my birthday. ..if not, we would wait. Just a week prior, we had single digit temperatures, and 8 inches of snow that stuck for 3 days. At midweek, the temperatures rose to 60 and the snow disappeared. By my birthday, it was a glorious 65 degrees and blue skies. 
Birthdays are generally typical days and include animal care, errands and even work. This year, my birthday fell of Saturday so I had time for a haircut, and to pick up goat food and chicken scratch before lunch. Ah birthday lunch….

I wanted German food for my birthday celebration. Jim researched a few places and decided that we would try a Russian place. He said that it’s all on the same continent, and the food is similar. I stopped trying to understand his logic and agreed to try new food; it’s better that way. We picked up some friends and drove to the restaurant, an authentic, family-owned, no frills place. The specials were pierogies and homemade kielbasa.  Jim wanted kraut and vegetables. I could tell this was going to be interesting: they were out of kraut. We ended up ordering 4 plates of food and splitting them. Jim had cabbage, pickled vegetables, mashed potatoes and carrots. I had kielbasa, cabbage and potatoes. Kelly finished my chicken cutlet, and his own kielbasa and potatoes.  It was like a food swap, and I just laughed. 

Jim said, “it’s good, but I really wanted the saurkraut.” Lisa replied, “if you wanted kraut we could’ve gone to the German place 2 miles south of here.” Jim looked astonished that such a place existed, and I just rolled my eyes. 

This is where you just shake your head and all agree that next time, Lisa is picking the restaurant. It’s never a dull moment. My birthday was filled with good food, good fellowship, great laughs and family. I can’t ask for more than that. As for cake, I had tres leches from the Cuban bakery where we skipped the candles in order to avoid calling the local fire department. I really did not want to have to get a burning permit just to light candles on the cake and explain to the forest rangers that it was just a birthday cake. 

Posted in Raised by a village

January 2017 – Wear Fun Socks

Posted on by Janet

Happy January 2017! The New Year is upon us. The trees from Christmas have gone dark. Lights from neighborhoods shine only from living room windows, street lamps and front porches. Stores offer cheerful red and green clearance items and make way for Valentine’s Day, Saint Patrick’s Day and Easter decor. Gym memberships, health clubs, and nutritional clubs offer half price and lowered fees for the next few weeks.
For me, the holidays are filled with family gatherings, reunions, Christmas plays, year-end reports, month-end processes, goat deworming protocols and bonfires. There are speaking engagements, piñatas, compiling family calendars and knitting. And fun socks…did you expect any less?

Now in my 10th year of making a calendar, I track over 90 birthdays and anniversaries. Thanks to Shutterfly.com, this calendar will continue (as long as my cousins submit photos before November, I’ll keep doing the calendars). 

I didn’t make this year’s piñata. I cheated and bought a ready-made one that looked like a cupcake. Between work and the above list, I ran out of time (see the above list plus add-in travel to Oklahoma for Thanksgiving). I think it was alright. That cupcake would not break! The youngest child always gets to hit the piñata first,  then others get to swing at it based on their ages. This year, both baby M and her mother had opportunities to swing blindfolded at the blasted toy-and-candy-filled-cardboard vault-on-a-rope.  Who knew that this piñata tradition, started by my late Aunt Allene in the 1960s would continue now? She handed the piñata bat to me a decade ago, and I continue it with pride  (even if I did have to buy one). 

After helping to clean-up the fellowship hall, Jim, Kelly and I burned more brush from the  goat pasture. We provided pyrotechnics for a group nearby and then, I was up until after midnight polishing a sermon for New Year’s Day service. 

Over the past few years, my resolution has been, “I resolve to make no resolutions.” I was quite successful at keeping it too. Yet this year, I realized that a resolution resolving to do nothing leaves me vulnerable to accepting the decisions made by someone else. So, I challenged others to be bold and courageous in their 2017 resolutions, make them SMART (Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Realistic, Time-bound). Use the buddy system and  have someone hold you accountable for your resolution. My resolution for 2017 is to read at least 4 books on positive mental health (like “The Happiness Advantage”) so that I can share with others and connect with them during times of their loneliness. Connecting with others in our communities helps to nourish the soul by providing love and understanding. 

To many, 2016 was filled with hate, violence, loss, despair, and division.  There’s no doubt that life is full of challenges. Jim and I often face disappointments that we simply do not share on social media because they are not social. We strive to be the best people we can be for each other and for our family and friends. Sure, we fall short and are far from perfect, but we keep striving. In graduate school, I had a professor who taught that we strive to overcome obstacles 80% of the time so that we can thrive 20% of the time. Those 20% “YAY” moments mean so much more when the obstacles we overcome are seemingly insurmountable.  

I challenge each of you to find joy, peace and love in 2017. Make SMART resolutions…start small and do your part. If you make promissory notes, pay your bills. If you agree to be part of an organization, show up and be present. If you join a health club, be active.

Live up to your obligations, be good to your families and friends… And wear fun socks. 

Posted in farmlife, goatlife

Walks with Goats

Posted on by Janet

I’ve been told that a visit to the farm is like therapy. Even when we’re trying to outsmart a catfood-stealing raccoon or mending fences for goat escapees, there is something therapeutic to tending the animals, walking to the creek and searching for crawdads (aka crayfish).

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, we continued a tradition of having bonfires as we cleared more brush from the pasture and fence lines. The difference this year was that we actually had goats inside the fence with us. We even gave the newest baby goat (ZsaZsaZsa-Noel) her first vaccine, and we did a round of goat deworming medicine for the others.

 

When Kristie and Ali visited the farm, we had hoped that the donkeys would bray at the sound of a violin, but the donkeys just turned and walked to the barn, much to my disappointment. Kristie said, “this is the first time my audience has ever pooped during a performance.”

Ali fed the goats and donkeys crackers and goat snacks, gathered eggs, and we looked for crawdads in the creek. This time of year can be overwhelming to adults. It’s remembering that acorns with caps, pinecones on dead trees and crawdads under rocks in the cold creek water are pure joy.
It’s coloring in books, spending time and being present that is the present that so many seek this time of year. When the tree is put away, the wrapping paper torn and the lights grow dim, the time we spend in the company of angels is the gift that we carry throughout the year.


In the words of the old hymn, “What can I give Him, poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb. If I were a wise man, I would do my part. Yet what I can I give Him, give my heart.”

May you give from your heart.

Photos courtesy of Janet Reep-Morgan,  Kristie Bittleston and Jim Morgan.  Used with permission on raisedbyavillage.com

 

 

Posted in goatlife

And Then We Had Number Ten

Posted on by Janet

“ZsaZsa-Noel” was born at the farm Monday night at 7:30 pm and quickly sniffed by Pete the donkey. When Jim arrived home from work, he heard a goat scream, and headed to the barn to check on the animals. I filled the #vittlesvault with fresh cat food and secured the lid. Jim said, “Janet, you need to come here.”  Walking closer, I heard the faintest bleating. My headlamp shone in the barn and a tiny white slick  form wiggled in the corner. Connie Francis stood looking shocked and exhausted. She had been the one bleating fifteen minutes earlier with labor pains that summoned Jim to the barn. I fetched old towels and returned to the barn as Connie Francis instinctually began cleaning the baby. Cautiously, I picked up the fresh baby and announced, “it’s a girl!” My phone was dying, but I used the last of the battery to show our new addition on Facebook Live.  

Quickly, friends began offering name ideas including Winter, Joy, Noel, ZsaZsa, Wobbles, Vanna White, Isabella, and Vera Sue. My phone battery died.  Jim secured the “maternity ward” which separated the new mother and her kid to allow for bonding (and to keep them out of the woods). Jim headed back to the house to eat supper saying, “I’m going to call her Number Ten.” With my phone charging, I read him a few of the name suggestions, and we laughed. 

Jim went to bed, and I went back to the barn. Kelly came out, and we waited to see if another baby would arrive.   Nothing. Kelly went back inside and I made one more trip to the barn. As I sat with mother and newborn in the chilly barn, waiting to see if she would deliver a twin, I heard coyotes in the nearby woods. Connie Francis looked around and stood over her baby protectively. I tried to outfit the new kid with a human-baby onesie.  Connie Francis was not impressed, and we both agreed that alterations would be required. The donkeys, Pete and Ney, stood guard outside the barn with their ears pricked in attention listening to the nearby coyotes. 

By this time, it was nearly midnight, so I headed to the house to get some sleep. As I turned the barn corner, I noticed the barn cats sitting on a nearby stump and wondered why they were not in the barn. Then, I saw something gray run into the barn and I thought, “that’s a big gray striped cat….ohhhh…that’s the raccoon who’s been eating the cat food!” My mind ran wild with images of a raccoon hurling itself on my head or jumping out to scare me. Compounded by exhaustion, I began seeing monsters in the dark as sounds from the woods engulfed my senses. 

Collapsing into bed, I quickly fell asleep. It seemed too fast that my 5 am alarm sounded, and I headed back to the barn to check on the new pair. 

ZsaZsa-Noel appears to be a healthy little girl with big ears and an appetite. Her mother is protective and keeping the paparazzi  (me) at horns-length. 

“These names”, people always ask, “how did you come up with these names?” The goats give me their names. Just the previous day, the actress, Zsa–Zsa Gabor died at the the age of 99. “ZsaZsa–Noel” fits perfectly with our famously-named goats and the Christmas season. I considered Belle (from Beauty and the Beast) as it would fit the Disney characters of Mary Poppins and Queen Lillian, and our twin trouble makers who were born to Julie Andrews in July. When we bought Faith, Gretel, Vera and Rita earlier this year, I wondered how the goat lady knew their names. To keep them straight, I altered their original names so that I could keep them straight. Faith became Faith Hill, Vera became Vera Wang, Rita became Rita Rudner, and Gretel..well, she became Julie Andrews because when she walks, she reminds me of songs from The Sound of Music. 

Now that I’ve been with the girls for nearly a year, I know their names like I know their spots. Each goat is named for an actor, comedian or musician whose work I like. Why would I name a goat after someone I don’t like? 

Posted in farmlife, goatlife

It’s 8:15, Do You Know Where Your Kids Are?

Posted on by Janet

Living next door to my brother is extremely helpful. However, I’m sure he does not want to chase goats four times in 48 hours.

Sunday morning, I called him after discovering Mary Poppins on the other side of the fence. I was in my pajamas and boots, just outside to break the ice on water buckets. There she stood, a 50 pound 6-month-old kid nibbling on privet leaves. Her mother, Julie Andrews, was frantic when I walked back the house to get my overalls and gloves. I imagined that I could hear her saying, “My baby, save my baby!”

Donning my overalls, gloves, cap and with pliers in hand, I managed to rope Mary Poppins as she bleated as if I was hurting her. She slipped the rope, and I called Kelly. “Will you come help me catch Mary Poppins?” I asked when he answered the call. “Sure” He replied and I started devising a way to capture the kid.  I managed to grab her back leg. She screamed in shock, and I picked her up. As I tossed her over the fence, she twisted and head-butted my nose. It wasn’t bleeding. Then Kelly showed up we walked the fence line looking  for breaks. 

Goat capture was not on my agenda for the day. Add in laundry, dishes, a request for a video of goat captures, and church…then fast-forward five hours. 

In the waning hours of the day, I checked the goats. I found that I was 3 goats shy of a full herd. So, I texted to my friend Diane, “2 escaped. 1 stuck.”  Fence pliers in hand, I called her, “Where are you? I’ve got two escaped and one stuck in the fence. You asked for video, now it’s your time to shoot the video.”  I laughed and she said that they were enroute home from a day trip. With Jim at work for another hour, I figured that I could at least get one escapee back in the fence solo.

I went into analyst mode and decided on a process flow. First, Betty White needed to be freed from the fence.  After she stuck her head through the 4×4 fence, her horns got stuck.  Suddenly faced with pliers, she magically backed her head out of the fence; she was toying with me hoping for a handful of grain. Second, I managed the grab Queen Lillian and tossed her over the fence. I heard Scooby barking as I tripped on a tree root chasing Mary Poppins. Counting down the minutes until Jim arrived home, I patiently followed Mary Poppins through the briars. 

In the darkness, I heard, “Hey! The goat capturers are here…how do we get to you?” I looked up and asked, “who’s there?! Diane?” Sure enough Diane and her husband walked around the barn and helped snag Mary Poppins. They had been in the area and gladly helped with the escapee. Thus ended Sunday. 

Monday night, after sitting in 90 minutes of snarled commuter traffic, I arrived home to see a light at the barn. I called Kelly, “are you at the barn?” 

He asked, “Yes, did you get the pictures?” I looked at my phone and saw two little brown goats on the wrong side of the fence…again. Twins are double-trouble. 

My sister-in-law heard a goat screaming and Kelly found the twins breaking fences again. We repaired the fence, replaced the goats and shook our heads. 

Tuesday night, Jim said that it was date-night which included homemade vegetarian burritos and a moonlit walk to the barn to count goats. At that point, I and heard the love of my life saying, “there it is, the shiny new roll of fencing that we’ll install on your day off Friday.”

You might be a goat farmer when you consider a “vacation” day from the office to be a date. Just in case you ever wondered what we do on personal days, we usually do farm stuff. 

Photos courtesy of Kelly Reep 2016. All rights reserved by Raisedbyavillage.com.