In October 2006 my dad bought me two Nanny Pygmy Goats from a friend and neighbor for my birthday. We had been looking for a young kid to raise since our last Pygmy, Cagney.
We had mentioned to our friend that we were looking for a nanny (girl), so we could raise and train her, make her really friendly. We had no luck finding one, well an affordable one, and really did not have the money to spend for the only ones we had seen advertised that were over $100.

My cousin got a call from our friend that he had found four adult nanny goats and bought them, and asked if we would want one or two because they were pregnant. So we made the long journey to his farm, which is a whole 3/4 of a mile as the kestrel flies. He had these four nannies in with his young billy, who was really friendly, but the nannies were kinda flighty. One did come up to me, she was the smallest.

So I asked our friend, in a very sucking up tone of voice, really milking it, "Since it's my birthday today, do you think I could buy one get one free?"

"Uh, no, I don’t think so Lis."

"Well actually since they are both pregnant, it's kinda like buy two get two free, maybe even three or four, right?" Hee, hee, sneaky me.

We chose a muddy brown one, the smallest, who had a white spot on her nose and gray and white hair mixed with the brown, almost giving her a purplish tint in certain light. The other looked more like the other pygmies we had, black, but she was much bigger. She had some white on her nose too. Both nannies had horns, which was something new as all of our previous nannies had no horns, however this new adventure did have some advantages...handlebars...and aided in getting them in the truck. Whew when we got them in the barn did they let loose and turn wild, literally bouncing off of the walls. Goats are weird by nature, but they sure could move for being pregnant.

 We named the brown one Thistle and the black one Nettle and they had their own pen in our "Baby Barn" so named for all the calves from our "Baby" line that have been raised there....but that's another story. They unfortunately never did friendly up, though I kept trying. They also didn't show any signs of birthing those expected kids. October passed with no kids, so too did November, then not even Christmas kids, and so too it was looking like January was going to pass by. I was kid-sitting that day, human kids that is, for longer than usual. There was a major snowstorm that day too, so I could not take the children outside to the barn. My horse, Cecil, started running and prancing around the whole pasture. The kids and I always had the windows open to watch the critters and he kept running up the fence line closest to the windows. We took pictures and opened the window to talk to him, but I did not know till they went home that he was trying to say, "The goaties are being born, the goaties are being born."

Nettle, the black nanny, had given birth to two little black kids with white freckled ears and noses, a nanny and a billy. The little girl's ears were gray and white and point up and outward. The little boy's were a bit darker shade and drooped downward, and boy did he make silly faces. He was more sleepy and she was so curious. He, being a typical little boy, kept being mischievious and would crawl underneath his sister. We played with them that night. She’d stand up in my lap to be petted and wanted to bounce around, till she got comfy, and then she’d fall asleep. He however would fall asleep right away. We moved Thistle over to the other pen with the calf as she did not look ready to birth, but she could still get close and see them. We tucked them in for the night without knowing the tragedy that would occur.

     Cecil and I were reminiscing the other day about the first time we met.

     My old horse, Cocoa, had died of old age in March of 2006 and we missed her a lot. It was a lonely Spring ‘round the barnyard. Dad and Grandpa worked out a trade with this fella we knew who trained horses for hay. They asked that he choose a well trained horse for me, with a good personality and slow gait because of my walking issues. He brought him down one early morning in late May. Dad dad called and woke me up and said to come outside. So I hurried up, changed my clothes, and went out where there was a horse trailer. The man was riding him, bareback, and said that I could name him what I liked. They had a number of horses at his place.

     He was beautiful, his coat was copper red tones and his long tail cascaded with fading colors. And oh my goodness was he tall. Now granted I was used to my old swayed back mare and then the neighbor's tiny Morgan by comparison. This horse was built with muscle and height. He would have made an excellent horse for John Wayne; a tall horse for a tall man. Of course I did not yet know his character; he could have made a good horse for Victor McLaglen or Slim Pickens too. :0)

They both told me to play with him and see if I liked him and he liked me and how we got on before I would decide. Of course I think I loved him in the first instant. I first went up to him for the old trick my dad taught me of blowing a breath onto his nose. He let me pet him a bit, but then his curiosity took over and he realized that he had a huge pasture all by his lonesome; lacking the 50 some horses from his previous pasture. And *sniff, sniff* hmm apple trees. (I did not know at that time how pleased he was to have apple trees.) He meandered around for a bit.

     It was a bit warm and I thought I would put him to a test. My dad has always been the final decision on what puppy we got. He always sat the puppy down, told it to stay, then walked away, turned, and called it by the name he chose. The puppy always came.

     I got a bucket and sat in the shade of the largest apple tree, eating some yogurt for breakfast. After I finished I saw he was at the farther end, supposedly ignoring me. I called him, "Cecil, come here Cecil." He picked up his head from eating and slowly came over to where I was, but when he came over he pretended that he was not interested, however I knew he was as he was watching me out of the corner of his eyes...checking to see what and who I was.

     So I thought, two can play this game, I have done it before. I turned away, where I could just see him and pretended to ignore him. It did not take long till he was moving into my sight. So I turned again and this time he moved into my sight, quicker, and I was not allowed to turn once more for he got right up in my face. I did that old trick again of blowing a breath into his nose, and that was it; he drooped his head into my lap and arms for a horsey hug and after a minute gave me a kiss on the cheek. He still does that to this day, though sometimes he makes faces too.

     By the way Cecil was my great-grandpa's name, and boy does he live up to it. :0)

     Today my "widdle" baby is all “growed” up....Cecil turned 10. Mr. Cecil is of course my American Quarter Horse, and such a charming fella too.

     His nickname in late summer is Cecil Cider, and if you were here then you would know why....he has a thing for apples. He loves to eat every apple in sight, which in turn makes him drunk, then he stumbles back to the barn to eat some baking soda and sobers up, just in time to eat more apples. What a weirdo. We usually try to avoid trimming hooves ‘round that time as he can hardly stand on four feet let alone three.

     One time he found the world’s largest apple. It was the middle of the night, near the fence line, and he took a few bites of this magnificent, huge orange apple. However it must have changed in the night, because he most surprised to find that the next morning it had changed into a pumpkin…which he does not like. A few sniffs and a lick later, and his distaste was clear even if his memory was rather foggy. Yep that’s my little boy.

     I wish I could get in contact with the breeder and get some of his colt photos from 10 years ago. That would be wonderful. I really wish I would have had him from the start. I can only imagine the trouble he must have given his mama mare, considering his character since he came to adopt me.

     For his birthday I gave him an apple and so did Dad. We both got apple juice kisses and the lippy thing...but that's a tale for another day.

       Today is the middle of the month and in the middle of the night a calf was born. We have had this line/family of cows that my dad and I have been rasing for over 20 years. It started with a Jersey Holstein Mix cow that my dad named Baby Kay...and thus started the Baby Line. Of course her first calf was named Baby Lisa. :0) Just like you have a last name all of their names ebgin with Baby, even when they weigh a ton.

       Baby Merry (named for a certain Hobbit) is the proud new mama. The calf is all black except for a little white spot on her tummy. Her mama was light brown and just darkened to a deep velvet chocolate brown. Her first calf was born under a rainbow and was a fawn tan color, and she still hasn't darkened much. However the new baby is the first in many years that was not born brown, looking more like the Jersey heritage, but black like the Holstein heritage. After much deliberation on names it came down to Baby Half-Pint or Baby O'Kay, we chose Baby O'Kay. Dad wanted O.K. however I thought O'Kay would be more appropriate.

       She is incredibly cute and adorable and covered in black velvet that you just want to snuggle up with....well now whilst she is still clean. By tomorrow I am certain she is gonna be full of energy and slobber-city. Oy, then begins bottle-training. Yikes.

      Brrrr!!!!! It was about 20-25 degrees here last night. Our little pond and any sitting water had a fine frosty film of ice reflecting the bright stars. Being it was such a cold, crisp and frosty fall night the stars were gorgeous; not a cloud in sight. They were as bright and twinkly as a late December night.

       I was out was to take pics of course and stargaze for a while, as well as trying to find Comet Hartley 2, not sure if I did have to look at pics. Did get some interesting ones though. Saw two meteors too. I love watching Orion rise, and it was exceptionally bright tonight too. I think I even got an Orionid whilst taking a shot of the Nebula.

       I discovered two things tonight. One is that my umpteen year old, Made in the USA, jean jacket with sweatshirt lining and hood, is still the warmest coat, comfy too, even though it's falling apart it is so worn, torn, eatin' by goats, scratched, and all around hobo looking I still prefer to use it for a barn coat. Also that metal Talon Zipper is awesome; lasts longer than the five minutes these new plastic ones do. Now on the other hand, my deerskin, stuffed gloves, that are made to wear in deep winter, however were helpful but not as warm. Yeesh, very, very cold fingers!

       The second thing is that boys make better photography assistants than girls; cats that is. Mister Fiddle, one of my barn cats, is my usual sidekick when my dog is not helping, for star photography. He'll at least sit on your feet or wind himself back and forth for attention, but at least it helps keeps your feet warm. Now he can be a pest because he'll wind himself around the tripod too, and purr, which ruins the shot. He'll hang around till he gets bored then disappear. However in August he did push the line and brought me a mouse... a live one, which proceeded to crawl up my leg. Yikes!!!!

        However his mama is a total brat and nuisance, and completely unsuited as an assistant. Oh she wound around my legs too, then stood on my boot and proceeded to use my leg as a scratching post, got her claws stuck in both pants and leg.  Then after that incident and a few minutes hunting away from me, without warning used me a a tree.   

        With claws fully extended she jumped on the back of my leg and crawled up my leg, back, got stuck and was falling off my coat, and made it all the way to my shoulder, then full on pounced on my hood covered head!!! Ouch all over. She even tried to jump on the camera. All to tell me she was cold and wanted in the barn, where she should have stayed. In her defense, she was shaking with chills all over, however less drastic measures could have gotten my attention. She's not a tiny little kitten anymore, and hasn't been for three years!

Anybody want a cat? (Just kidding, this is not a cat ad)
       Being as the fall rutt is underway for White-Tailed Deer I also heard two bucks fighting in the field next to the pasture. It was a very quiet night and there was no mistaking the sound of antler hitting antler and grunts and snorts. Very cool, wonder who won.

       Camera is thawing out. Always remember: When coming in from cold temps into warm, camera needs taken apart, and set out to dry so condensation does not build up. That's my photographer tip for the day.