Sex our Geese

Trust me. This is almost as unusual and foreign a request to me as it is to you. We bought the goslings just over a month ago or so, and have no idea what breed they are or what sex they are.

By all research accounts, I have yet to discover the answer to my question - "What sex are my geese?"

I put the challenging question out to you, my faithful readers, in the hopes that you will enlighten me with the answer, as well as further educating yourself (and your children) on the subject of waterfowl and their sexual organs.

The Sympathy Rose

Whoa - it's been a bit of a dreary week around the blog, first with the robin's deaths and then with the young hockey player's motorcycle accident. But, life around here just ain't like that really. It's not dreary or gloomy in the least. I just felt the need to tell you that. Because my mom worries that I come across as too angry, mean or unhappy most of the time.

Not since killing a nest full of baby robins earlier in the week, have I shed a tear.
Oh, that's not true, I cried a bit last night when the Bachelorette actually gave fucking TWILLEY a rose!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



(Could you believe it????? I couldn't believe it.)

Hello???!! That guy is whacked. and clearly uncomfortable in his own skin. I'd seriously be concerned for her safety if it weren't for the cameras all around them. Twilley was waiting for her in the bushes when she got back from her date! He keeps wanting to express his serious side to her, but all he's demonstrating is a seriously insecure and bizarre personality! I could hardly watch the scenes between them, it made me feel so awkward and creeped out. I would have bet a million bucks that De-Anna took the opportunity to send him packing.

She obviously didn't pay one bit of attention to her intuition on this one. Cuz the guy clearly makes her as uncomfortable as he makes me.

And, mark my words, she'll regret her choice last night.

(and, believe me, the picture above is a generous one.)

RIP Luc Bourdon

My thoughts and sympathy go out to the Bourdon family and friends. I'm saddened deeply by this accident and know that Luc will be missed by hockey fans and Canuck fans everywhere.

I'm haunted today by every robin that I see.

Intrusive photography takes a bad turn

Ugh. I feel just horrible about this. The guilt is eating me up.

I went outside with the girls after dinner to enjoy the evening and water the garden. I brought the camera to take some pictures of the sprouts that are actually shooting up. In spite of the clay, rocks and otherwise impossibly hard chunky ground.

I became distracted by a baby stellar jay who was on the ground nearby. I could hear the mother jay making a real ruckus in the trees above it and didn't like me coming in closer for a picture one little bit.

I then remembered that B.Rube had told me about some baby robins in the barn that I should get some pictures of, so we headed there. Sure enough, one of the nests that we've been watching for weeks was chock full of babies, spilling out the top. I stood on a milk crate to give myself an extra foot and started to snap some pictures.

There they are. But, that's too far away. I'll get in a bit closer. The mom and dad robins are outside the barn in an absolute panic watching me move in on their babies.

Cute. But, I can get closer than that. They don't seem to be too bothered by me.

Closer yet. They're so cute. Look at those big bulging eyes. (Don't get too attached. They are about to meet a tragic end.)

Suddenly, the babies jump and flap and fall and flutter. In that instant, all I hear are birds chirping, wings flapping and little bird bodies hitting walls and roof and wiring. I jump off the milk crate and duck out of the barn. The babies have jumped from the nest. The adult robins are freaking out! Flying and shrieking. I notice two of the babies are now on the ground outside the barn. Still trying to flap and fly. Instead, kinda hopping. One of them hops over and ends up in a bit of a puddle. Fuck. I debate picking it up and putting it back in the nest. Damn. Damn. Damn. I've totally interfered where I shouldn't have. And I've created a horrible situation.

I cringe. and turn around to shuffle T.Rube out of the barnyard. That's when I see the big raven with the baby in its mouth. He drops to the ground and begins to tear into it. If I thought that the adult robins were upset before, nothing had prepared me for the panic and grief I was seeing now. My heart just dropped.

I have no idea what the full extent of damage is. I have not been brave enough to face what I have done by returning to the barn; too scared to realize that the nest is completely empty; that my innocent attempt to photograph the cute babies lead to the death of all of them. I learned a valuable lesson tonight.

Two weeks today....

....I'll be waking up in Vegas.

WHRRRRRRRRRR

I am now officially into my "Week of Housework Reprieve" (or WHRRRRRRRR as I like to respond when B.Rube asks me when I plan on doing the laundry again, vacuuming the basement, cleaning the bathroom or unloading the dishwasher.)

There are a million reasons why I love my mom's biannual long-distance visits. One of them is the "Week of Housework Reprieve" that I grant myself in the week prior to beginning the major cleaning that occurs in time for her arrival. Mom arrives next Wednesday, June 4th and I plan on starting my cleaning lightly on Monday, June 2nd.

A few years ago, I noticed a trend begin in the week leading up to mom's arrival:
Knowing that I would have to massively clean the entire home before she arrived anyway, I wouldn't do any housework for days beforehand. This last year, I formally named it WHRRRRRRR and gave myself permission to let the house go.

It is the most freeing feeling in the world.

Farm Update

We've been busy around the farm as the nice weather finally (albeit briefly) appeared over the last week or so.

The geese are getting bigger and their feathers are coming in. This was their first swim.

We're in the middle of a huge fencing job. Rather than having one large pasture out front, we're in the process of separating it into separate fields, so we can rotate the sheep and manage the pasture growth better.
We got a new patio set, which, aside from our bed and TVs, is the only new thing we've ever owned. I'm thrilled with it.
Especially considering that this was our patio set.

We finally put the trampoline up; something that S.Rube has been anxiously awaiting. (Don't worry - there is a big net that goes up around it. So I can lock T.Rube up once in a while.)

I borrowed the rototiller from our neighbours and put B.Rube to work preparing the soil for our garden. S.Rube and I planted the seeds. (read: I planted the seeds. She was no help whatsoever. What she did contribute was slowing the process down to a snail's pace, before I finally sent her off to dig for worms to feed the chickens.)

(I'll keep you posted on the garden. I'm not a gardener, despite being my father's daughter. We've planted at the back of the barn, which most recently housed our two pigs before they landed themselves in the freezer just before Christmas last year. It should be well-fertilized soil. I have no idea if anything will actually grow or not. I saw one of the hens in there tonight, digging and looking for my seeds.)

Here's a few more recent pics of the newest ram lamb born almost 2 weeks ago.

Can I just point out how fucking HUGE Sidney's head is??? Big Daddy..... (you know what they say about the size of your head, right? It's all true.)

Both girls are doing very well. And love the farm as much as we do.

More P-E-N-I-S humour....

Last night's bathroom conversation between B.Rube and S.Rube..... once again, as B.Rube is having a pee....

S.Rube: That's a funny thing you pee from, Daddy.
B.Rube: mmmhhhhh
S.Rube: That's a penis.
B.Rube: Yep.
S.Rube: Mommy has a penis, too.
B.Rube: ummmm... no... I don't think so, sweetie.
S.Rube: Yes, she does have a penis. It's a nice pretty blue one. Kinda turquoisey. It's for her home work stuff. I'm not big enough to touch it though.

Oh dear.... I knew the time was coming when I couldn't let S.Rube see my "work stuff". Preparing for an O!Behave party with beautifully coloured vibrating penises spread out across the kitchen table was eventually going to produce too many questions that I'm not quite ready to answer. The days of the eldest Rube child being able to run around waving a pretty purple suction-cupped dong, or holding a cute little vibrating bullet to the tip of her nose were eventually going to come to an end.

The end is now here. She is officially too old.
And, for the record, there is far too much p-e-n-i-s talk around here for my liking.
(oh...and S.Rube, you'll NEVER be big enough.)

Yeeeeee-Haaawwwwww

It was the first HOT and sunny Victoria Day weekend for as long as I can remember. (and I'm using past tense while the long weekend is still in play, because the clouds and the rain have returned today.) The Rube family, taking advantage of the sunshine, headed to the rodeo yesterday morning.

Attending the annual Cloverdale rodeo on the May long weekend has been a tradition of B.Rube and I since 2000, when we lived within walking distance to the rodeo grounds. Here's a picture of us 8 years ago leaving the rodeo with our friends...as you can see, we are the LAST people in the whole stadium to vacate the beer garden seating. reluctantly (yet joyfully), might I add.

(man, those were KICK ASS boots, eh??)

Needless to say, B.Rube DID NOT carry me out of the stadium this year. For a number of reasons: 1.I'm just too fucking heavy now. 2.We weren't gleefully drunk. 3.We had a stroller to push. 4.He had a daughter to carry. 5.It would never have looked as good as it did back then.

But, I did wear my denim shorts, cowboy boots, cowboy hat and my "FARM HANDS FEEL BETTER" t-shirt. I had B.Rube take a picture of me that I'll share later on.

(holy shit - do you see that?)

( I can't help it! Look at those perfect buttocks!)

(bull? what bull?)

( Okay, you caught me. You caught me. )

(Here's the one picture request that I had for B.Rube all day. I wanted a full-length shot of me in my cute shirt and cowboy boots with the stadium in the background. Here it is. Are you ready?)

(That's me at the bottom here...barely got my head in there. It's probably a good thing, on second thought, because, after watching Muffin#1 and Muffin#2 all afternoon, seeing a picture of myself probably would have only made me sad. So, sorry....no cute pic of me in my cowgirl outfit.)

(How about one more peek at the girls though?)

(yikes. Do you see that?? She's totally looking at me. totally is. I think she winked. If only she didn't have those big glasses on, you'd be able to see it, too. And she's kinda smirking, too. I know it.)
(yep. totally is.)