Remembering Why I Moved to the Country

The llama in the playhouse.

My extended stay in the Big City this year has served as a good reminder to me of why I moved out to the country.  The endless miles of cement and asphalt, cookie cutter houses with postage stamp yards, piles of rules regulating everything from garage sales to whether you can walk down the street with your child on a school day.  The gray skies that sometimes open up to blue by mid-day.  The 24 hour traffic.  The constant noise.  The overwhelming amount of activity.  The brown haze that obscures the mountains from view.  The over-chlorinated pools.  The speed at which life flies by.

Yet, there have been advantages.  Walking to daily Mass.  Spending time with my dad, my older children, my grandson, and my cousins.  Being present for the many special events that took place with my family this summer.  Seeing some old friends and making some new.  Then, there are those things that can only happen in Southern California:  black beans, lettuce and ranch dressing as pizza toppings.  Spending the morning in the mountains and the afternoon at the beach.  Hummer stretch limos.

Caught in the act.

Coming home was not without its problems.  I lost my entire sheep herd while I was gone.  One mama and baby in lambing, the other mama and baby to coyotes.  My rascally goats spent the summer systematically working their fence until they could open up a section.  So we have been systematically closing up each new hole and reinforcing the fence.  Fencing on the homestead is a never ending project.  My dog ran off to parts unknown, though she was last spotted playing with some campers visiting from another area.  I hope they're giving her a good home.

The new dogs are awesome.  The llamas were utterly displeased with sharing the back yard with them, however, so a new pen has been constructed for them.  It does have a nice shed, which, when cleaned out, will make as nice a shelter as the playhouse they were using in the back yard.

Home sweet home.

I've lost the ten pounds I gained just getting back to my normal routine and diet.  We do have a few new neighbors, creating some extra noise in my peaceful haven, but I am sure glad to be home.  Ten acres on a dirt road with clear skies trumps asphalt and constant highway noise any old day.

Bee-location

Last week's swarm of bees was successfully relocated.  We had to wait until dusk, as the bees were fairly active and easily agitated during the day.  Once the sun started setting, however, they went back to their "nesting" behaviour and their apparent sluggishness.  It was then fairly easy to dig a circle around them, lift dirt, bees and all into a bucket, and transport them to a more remote location.  We sprayed a light mist of water over them when they became agitated from the digging, which prevented them from swarming us.

 Though I suspect they did not survive the poisoning that drove them into our yard in the first place, I feel we did everything we could to give them a chance at survival, and I hope at least a few did manage to make a new home.

A Swarm of Bees

We are still at our "urban homestead", here at my parents' home in the Big City.  Mom has been gone a month and there is still so much to do.

So here is what my youngest son found on my dad's lawn the other night.  It is a swarm of bees, seemingly nesting on the ground.  There were actually two "nests" going, but today they have combined into one "nest".  I googled bees and found that there is indeed a species that nests on the ground.  Whether these are that species or not, hard to say.  The neighbors were being tormented by bees on the streetlight in front of their house, so they called the exterminator.  We believe that these are the bees that came out of that light post.  Of course, my son and I, being bee advocates, want to relocate them.  Dad just wants to get rid of them.  We agreed to see what would happen today, when it warmed up.  Dad was convinced they would leave on their own.  They are still there.  So now I guess it's my turn.  My plan is to dig up the whole nest tonight when they are "asleep" and put it in a bucket with a lid, take it down to the riverbed, which is flanked by several plant nurseries and turn them loose to find a new home for themselves.  I'll report back on how that works out, and hopefully more pics.  Yes, dad, I'll fill in the hole in the lawn...

It's Christmas Time in the City

I just got back to the homestead from visiting my family in the Big City.  It was a particularly enjoyable visit, and for once I wasn't quite ready to come home.  This trip, I was able to appreciate the little pockets of respite in an otherwise dingy, expensive, lonely city life. 

I sat outside my son's apartment, watching him play basketball with his little brother, and admired the palm trees, stretching up above the rooftop of the complex, swaying and rustling in the chilly breeze, waves of green against the blue of the sky.  I took delight in watching the Christmas decorations going up in mom and dad's neighborhood; twinkling lights, inflated, lit-up snowmen, front yard Nativity scenes.  I soaked up some last autumn rays of sunlight on a strategically placed patio nook with southern exposure at my parents' house.  Over the years the old neighborhood has gone from plain and drab to green and well tended, with colorful flower beds, not restricted to the edges of the houses, but creatively scattered throughout front yards.

As much as I basked in the comfort and love of my family, there were those moments when I knew I must eventually return home to my own life, where the background noises come from the chicken coop and the paddocks and a wild indian of a boy, not from constant traffic and electronic buzz.  The early morning aroma is from the barnyard and the juniper trees, and not that peculiar big city odor of mingling garbage and sewage.  And the blankets of stars in the darkness before dawn, outnumber the streetlights ten billion to one.