Manzanita Bees

I planned on not blogging this weekend to give myself a break. Oli and I went on a hike and took our cameras along in the hopes of spotting a bear. Instead we found this beautiful Manzanita in bloom with dozens of bees collecting its pollen. I can't resist sharing some of our pretty pictures.

Jessica's Pics (Olympus Camedia camera):




Oliver's Pics (V-tech Kidizoom camera):

Big News! We are Expecting...

Goat Babies! I'm so happy we are adding new babies to the family. And I don't even have to get nauseous or swollen (although I do feel for the goat moms). The goats are currently pregnant and will deliver in early Spring. Our house is about ten minutes from the farm, but I will be ready with my camera to try and capture the birth of our kids. We plan on getting two females and one male (who we will neuter). Later we will get one male from a different farm to breed with our females. Yesterday we went to visit the ladies and give them kisses. Here are some of my favorite shots.



This ram was wishing he could knock me over the entire time. Too bad for him there was a fence.

Our favorite goat, Lilly, died on Saturday night. She is the goat in the photograph below with short ears. She was a sweet girl and lived to be nine. As a tribute to her, I posted a picture of her great granddaughter below. She has got some strong genes!

Stress Relief

Work was unusually stressful last week. Glenn found me under a blanket on the couch last night fretting about silly things. I decided today would be spent focusing on what really matters. I stayed in bed until ten reading to Oliver, kept my PJs on until two, and spent the rest of the day hanging out with my boys, the bees and the chickens. I feel like a human again. I had to remind myself life is actually about...

1. Teaching Oliver about bees.


2. Taking hundreds of pictures of the "flight path" and never getting a great shot.

3. Witnessing a bee being born (emerge from a cell).

4. Doing art in the backyard.


5. Finding a salamander when we weren't even trying.


6. This sweet face.

Now to top things off with a glass of wine and a movie. I love a wild Saturday night!

Berry: My First Child

I feel bad that I have written 60 posts and have not yet mentioned Berry. Berry came into my life when I was 20 and living on my own for the first time. Some awful person had put Berry and her brother Bugsy in a bag in the garbage. Berry and Bugsy were dropped off by a Good Samaritan at the clinic where I worked as a veterinary assistant. She was just days old when I took her home. Caring for Berry was similar to caring for a newborn baby. I set an alarm and bottle fed her every three to four hours and took her everywhere with me. Berry loved sleeping on my head as a tiny kitten. I think my hair was the closest thing she could get to a warm mother cat's belly. I have added a couple new people to our bed and Berry has taken it very well. I was worried she would be upset when Oliver was born, but she accepted him right away as a member of the family. As you can see, she now has a new head to curl up against. After ten years of sleeping with a cat on my head, I am quite pleased with the new arrangement.

Have a Spooky and Happy Halloween!

Another Weird Bee Post

We have a small overflow pond that hydrates all of the local deer, our cats and the bees. This body of water keeps us endlessly entertained. We head outside to visit tadpoles, fish, snails and eggs on a daily basis. Last Thursday we found a drowning bee at dusk. Oliver pulled her out of the water and named her "Mac."

It was cold and Mac was wet, so we took her inside. Oliver read her a book as she sat drying on a pillow.

We figured she would recover faster with a belly full of honey. She perked right up!

It was getting dark, so Mac wouldn't fly back to the hive. Oliver was thrilled when I told him Mac would be sleeping inside with us.

He made her a bed and syringe fed her some water. We tucked Mac in next to the heater and went to bed.

The next morning, Mac happily flew back to the hive. To thank us, she circled back around and pooped on Glenn. No, thank YOU Mac.

I got this crazy idea that I could actually write a picture book. Then reality set in. I learned some interesting facts about the children's book industry. Apparently, celebrities use ghost writers. And editors receive more manuscripts in one day than they publish all year. There are also a few topics/styles to avoid: rhyming books, stories about anthropomorphic animals and stories about your pet. In conclusion, I have decided not to send my story to editors. I wrote a rhyming story about my pet-the horror! I spent so much time on it that I decided to publish it on my blog instead.

Oliver's Hen

Lou Ellen was sick; no one knew why.
She wobbled and struggled; she would not fly.

We gave her water, medicine and melon.
We’d do anything to help our Lou Ellen.

Oliver fed her and treated her with care.
Think he’d leave her side? Oliver wouldn’t dare.

Lou Ellen, she loved her Oliver, too,
Happy doing what he wanted to do.

Lou Ellen started to walk; she seemed to heal.
And she even began to finish each meal.

Daddy always liked Lou Ellen next to his feet,
A help in the garden, many bugs she could eat.

Oliver will remember one warm Saturday,
When he and his hen began to explore and play.

First, Lou Ellen listened to Oliver’s sweet song.
I’m sure on the inside she was singing along.

It is true that illness can be healed with a touch.
A massage from Oliver was enjoyed so much.

Then off to his trampoline to jump around.
Lou Ellen watched her friend, safely from the ground.

Next, Oliver and his hen hopped on his swing.
Just look at the bliss an old tire can bring.

They wandered around and climbed in a tree.
How much more wonderful could one day be?

Oliver said “Goodnight” to his fine hen,
Knowing what a perfect day it had been.

Something heartbreaking happened the very next morning,
It was something that happened without any warning.

Oliver found his hen covered in dirt.
It looked as though poor Lou Ellen was hurt.

He ran to check her, her feet in the air.
He called out “LOU ELLEN,” but she wasn’t there.

Oliver comforted, “Mommy, don’t cry.”
“I love her the same. I know that inside.”

So grandpa came to help dig a small hole,
And he laid to rest her beautiful soul.

Oliver cut flowers to cover her grave.
At three years old, he was amazingly brave.

Most chickens, you know, live their lives in a coop,
And some even end up in vegetable soup.

There was one exception; it was Oliver’s pet.
Her three weeks in our garden, we’ll never forget.

Lou Ellen’s short life was one filled with joy.
How many chickens are loved by a boy?