Last Days In the Foothills

Since 2016 the work of running first one, and then two small agricultural businesses on top of homeschooling multiple grade levels and having a life, made blog writing virtually impossible. But, as we once again move to an area far from family and friends, and while I am no longer running businesses, it makes sense to start up again. I’m going to take it easy and not overburden you with a lot of words (initially). Here are some notes from our last days here in the Placerville/Coloma area. The cows have been gone for a month, and we have been packing things up and selling off our farm equipment for a while now. Next week is the big move!

The sale of our silo went well, friends came and took it with a large dump trailer, and using some basic farm engineering skills (ropes and straps and a tree), it gently thumped into the dump bed to travel to a new home.

We sold Sam, the lighter bay (brown) colt to an excellent home, and he loaded into the trailer like a pro. There was a moment of panic as his half brother walked away to pasture with the mares, but he’s reasonable and calmed down quickly. Our ranch vet and his wife bought him, which means he will be well cared for. Charlie (the dark colt) will travel to our new home with us and the three mares.

Molly is interested in flying. We took part of a day to drive her down to do a flight with a friend of ours from church who is a flying instructor. Adele and Maxine got to tag along in the back seat.

There she is, taking off. Pretty impressive for a 14 year old.

My mom and brothers had been asking about trying out horse riding for a while, and I thought I better get on it before we leave. Here is Josh (youngest brother) and my mom taking a first ride. Butte and Laura were tolerant, and my family did a good job not yanking on reins or being annoying. I think riding came naturally to them.

We did a worming (Garlic Barrier) of the ewes, and checked them over. Here is my oldest in the cap, and my youngest (the bump under the flannel shirt) helping. I have culled down the flock to 230 head, sold all my rams to simplify things, and have been trying to arrange to have the ewes let out to another targeted grazing business for the coming year, with a couple starts but no success. Honestly I hate to leave them with other people. I get worried about them at night when they are not home, even with a good shepherd, it’s kind of pathological. So when both deals fell through I felt stress that we have to get things set up for them so soon in Smith River, but relief that I wouldn’t be wondering about their care throughout the year. They will stay at a friends ranch for 1-2 weeks while we land, and then we’ll have them hauled out to us.

I took this picture of Gill in the spring. We lost him to a mystery infection this summer, something that the vets thought was arthritis initially, but suddenly worsened and took him almost overnight. He was a darn good dog, and our teacher, and we are sad that we didn’t get a pup from him yet, that was on the plan after we moved. Buried him under a young valley oak we planted. Gypsy has had to pick up the pace and is doing well as a solo herder, but eventually if we keep our flock we will need a second herding dog.

Another spring pic, from our little house. Going to miss a our community and friends here very much, and our little farm with it’s hillsides and slopes and the rough patches and the fertile places where the grass would grow twice as fast. The wildflowers in the spring on the worst ground, the irrigated pasture grasses shoulder high and rustling with life. The soft, cool feeling of a grass-hidden snake under your bare foot and the sudden leap that follows. The kites returning and the hawks nesting, and the familiar caramel scent of the dry summer dust. The friends who just show up. The neighbors who call to check in when a fire comes up overnight. The skunk who occasionally crawls under your house at night, perfuming through the floor so fragrantly it wakes you from a dead sleep. Where your best dogs are buried, and the first rabbit, who travelled from Maryland and purred when you petted him. Where you planted trees and native grass and wont see them grow.

There’s a lot to miss, I haven’t even touched the top of the list. But, there is also much to look forward to, and as time allows I’ll share that too.
Onward and upward, quite literally this time!