Everyone wants to be heard, even the ones we think are hateful

I choose to believe the crow that I heard high up in a tree this morning, cawing, was sending me a message of hope, and a reminder to carry on. No matter what happens on Tuesday night, there is a lot of work to do in this world.

Crows have always been messengers, for me, and many others...and I suppose the cynics will say we read into anything when we need it most. Years ago in my youth, with a broken relationship haunting me everyday, I believed that when I saw two crows together, it meant the person was going to come back to me. I would find two crow feathers on walks and felt optimism. As months wore on, I would only see single crows. I told myself at that time that I just wasn't seeing the crow pairs, but they were there, and that this entire 'believing in crow messages' was a farce.

But the crow's message, and my reading of it, was accurate back then. Seeing the crow pairs was true to my mindset, as I had not let go of the relationship and there were still lessons for me to glean from it. In time, a single crow was exactly the message I needed at the exact time I was ready to see it.

So this morning, like many people, I'm anxious about the world, the hate, the underbelly of America that has always been there but in the past two years-or more-has been given a green light of acceptance from the top.

Democracy is not a straight path. Nor is freedom. I have remained silent on social media about it. For one, as a non profit, one is not supposed to be talking politics, and I don't on the Apifera business page. As for my personal Facebook profile, something I rarely interact on anymore except to post links to the blog, I see no point in giving my opinion there anymore, and my personal profile page is basically a way for me to interact with some people I actually know in the real world. There is no real discourse between 'the sides' and there are so many 'sides' these days. I see people talking to their own choirs over and over. I just backed away from it. Some people I respected I've lost respect for, not because of their beliefs, but because of how they are banging them over other people's heads, daily, hourly. These same people despise Dump [a sentiment I share] but they are using tactics of 'sharing' their messages to their own choir that–in my eyes–are some of the same tactics the president and his party are using.

But just because I'm not posting about the political environment, the racial hatred, the sexism, the fear mongering doesn't mean I'm not working against it in my own way. I wonder what would happen if people that only post their political hates [this goes for either party] of the moment, had face to face conversations with other people.Talking to people with different views-especially hot button issues-is not easy. I think we should have community help in this. It is a skill to share your beliefs without shaming others. I'm no expert at it either. But FB is not a safe place to acquire the skill, or hone it.

Everyone wants to be heard, even the people we feel are wrong and hateful.

Llama Update!

I’m feeling optimistic about Birdie who is doing well after our scare in early October with the dreaded Menagerial worm which we caught early and treated aggressively via my vets recommendations.

Her swelling has noticeably disappeared in her rear upper legs. I feel her wobbliness is at a minimum–in fact I doubt any of you would notice–and could still improve since it has only been 2.5 weeks since treatment ended. I doubt I’ll ever totally relax about it-but am grateful for this outcome and hope it continues. She now will get a monthly dewormer shot, versus a twice a year dewormer which was our protocol in Oregon. Our land here is wetter, and although we don't have dear walking around, they are here passing through The Wood, so...it is what it is.

I'm so grateful I noticed it when I did [on Misfit Love Day, I was talking to a llama person as we stood by Birdie and when Birdie went to get up, she stumbled and acted crippled]. I also feel badly that I didn't understand the problems of this worm. Part of it is the fact I am just now finding my vets, so I really didn't have anyone to guide me with llama issues here when we arrived, and llamas are an exotic, so there are not a lot of vets that really don't know them well.

Anyway, I've asked for Birdie's forgiveness, and even made art in her honor, which she appreciated.

Now what? The ongoing thought process of one woman and two goats ambassadors of love

I took this photo today, spontaneously, as I walked in the front gate after doing errands. There they were, just set up for a perfect moment caught forever by a photo.

Sometimes things evolve so fast that I have to stop and take stock of what was and what will be-or what I want it to be. I am after all the co-pilot of this raggedy ship. I've been doing a lot of thinking about how I want to grow our ability to share our love ambassadors. When I looked at these two, and then the photos after I got in the house, I got this big feeling in my throat, like my heart shifted up to my throat but then it fluttered all around my body and then burst out into the room where I sat.

Somehow, I stumbled on Opie and then I stumbled on Ollie, or someone stumbled on me to send me Ollie. Was it all written out on a map of my soul long ago before I was a human vessel? As I drove to the feed store this afternoon, I was again in awe of how beautiful the autumn was this year. And then I realized I was beginning to know certain areas more on my routine drive, I knew the coves and bays more and it felt familiar, it did not feel like we just got here and were fish out of water [even though we always felt good here]. I thought of the couple of friends I've intertwined in my life now who are loving, funny, positive creatures and I'm thinking as I drive-I'm here, this is so the way it is supposed to have played out.

I feel like I'm on a nice speed–propelling forward with my work, and life.

Opie will be turning two in December. Look how little he was! Meanwhile, Ollie is growing like a weed and continues to be a lover not a fighter. We need more lovers, don't we?

Yesterday I went and visited a very beautiful elder residence, with beautiful views of New Harbor, right on the water. I will be taking the animals there after the holidays for regular visits. The residents there have come here twice and I'm so excited to have yet another nearby place to visit. Remember the wonderful 101 year old gent that came to Misfit Love Day? He lives there.

Tomorrow we will have the residents of some of The Greens come for a farm visit. I'm glad. I love my "Greenies" as I call them - The Greens is a group of seven homes, in small little vintage houses in different village settings, where 6-8 elders reside. And next week, I'm visiting one of The Greens I have not been too that we've been given the go-ahead to have animal visits at, and residents from the other homes can come on designated visit days. Part of the reason this is happening, besides my interest, is the help of one of the Greens employees [thank you, Cindy!} and a local man who now can drive the residents. This is so wonderful and he's great with the people too. It's very hard for the elder homes to get people places, due to staffing issues.

So one of my big goals is to develop these winter visits.

My other ideas are to start drawing days in the upper loft, which we plan to winterize and summarize -hoping to do that this winter. The elder cat suite will be opened up so the elder cats can walk around up there too. Elder people won't be able to get up there, it is a lot of steps. So I'm a bit frustrated on not having a place here for elder people for winter. But maybe it is meant to be that I find these other places for winter animal therapy visits?

I still would love a little winterized shed for animal visits-but the logistics of keeping the snow plowed around it, safe for elders-it's the little details I need to figure out.

Meanwhile, Opie and Ollie, are ready to report to duty as soon as I say, "Let's go!"

Opie on arrival back in December 2016

It's exhausting around here...

I forgot how exhausting Halloween can be around here, especially without The Head Troll to help organize costumes. This year, Paco was a ghost, he is always a ghost, but this year he simply asked me for toilet paper so he could make his own outfit-he did not want to burden me with sewing. I asked him how he got the TP to stick together..."Staples," he said. Yikes. Note to self: find staple gun and hide it.

And for some reason, there was a Marie Antoinette theme too.

It was Ollie's first Halloween. Like I said, Marie Antoinette was a theme for many of the goats, why, I don't know. I was told Birdie helped create Ollie's wig, which explains it's three foot height.

"Do you even know who Marie Antoinette is, Ollie?" I asked.

"A country singer, I think," he said.

At precisely midnight, according to Paco, all Marie Antoinette wigs will be eaten.

Old Pony

Back in the studio, feeling like I want to draw these days...hoping to do more black charcoal pieces.

The old cat gets older

Sir Tigger, who was one of the first elder cats we adopted out of the shelter once in Maine, has turned 18. He was the oldest elder for a long time but last month we brought on Gilda a twenty year old and her 15 year old son. Tig doesn't mind, he takes life pretty casually, hanging back from the crowd, not fearful of anything but not a bully either. He will let you know when he is not in the mood for what you might be in the mood for.

He came with the name Tigger, and I added the Sir to it...it is fitting and if you ever meet him you will understand.

If you like our work with the elders, consider a donation, or visit our Wish List page where you can buy cat food for Tigger and friends. {Thank you}

Burial shrouds for a pig...preparing to let go

A beautiful item for Rosie's resting spot from Lisa Hofmann

A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned on the Apifera social media pages that it was becoming clear to me that I have to face facts about Rosie the pig. Both Martyn and I feel that it is becoming less of a 'good' life for her and I might have to put my big girl pants on and help her to the next realm. Rosie is old, crippled, blind and her hind end is weaker and weaker. The vet said a couple years ago it could even be a spinal issue. She mainly sleeps, and this summer never left the barn. With another cold winter approaching, I worry that she can't properly watch out for herself as she tries to stay warm. She is not as good at making her pig bed [covering herself in huge mounds of straw]. Each night I try to make sure she is fully covered, but that doesn't mean she doesn't get up and move around and get uncovered and not adequately recovered.

We tried a blanket for her, made graciously by a pig lover who likes to make pot bellied pig blankets. But even though I altered it slightly, to help her from tripping up on it, she kept getting stuck in it, due to her weak condition. I felt it was unsafe. She now will trip more, and falls every now and then. She trembles too, all summer, like Katherine Hepburn did.

So, I feel I have to be strong and do what is right for her. I am not sure why I am having such a tough time with this one. Each animal is precious of course, some get us in the heart strings worse than others. Some of you might not know Rosie's story, but I will tell you that she is a very difficult pig. She really doesn't act like all the other pigs I know. She is grumpy and has been grumpy since she landed at Sanctuary One after her elder owner died. Rosie had been living like a royal highness in the house, in a room with her own bed and furniture. When she got to the sanctuary, she was so grumpy no other animals would have anything to do with her-nor she them, except one crippled goat, Stevie, who ended up coming to Apifera with Rosie. That is a whole 'nother story, a good one too.

So she has been a challenge. No vets liked to work on her, nail trims were impossible and I'd spend enormous amounts of time trying different regimes to get basic care done, even giving her beer-it was a fancy micro brew and she didn't like it, Marcella drank it for her. After about a year, she even quit sleeping with Stevie, she really preferred her own suite, and showed me that in no uncertain terms-I think too she felt safer and was afraid of getting knocked around and was most likely already losing her site. When we came to Maine, Rosie was already getting old, and I wondered if I was doing her a disservice by bringing her to a cold climate. But I did, and she seemed to thrive here that first spring and summer, even venturing out to flirt with Earnest in the sunshine through the fence.

But by the next year, we noticed she really was pretty blind, and she couldn't go out and wander near the barn even, because she often tripped and fell. She mainly...sleeps.

So I told people that I was going to make a burial blanket for her. I didn't want to think of her in the earth all cold, even though she will be dead and at peace, I won't be, and I thought making a burial item, a ritual for those of us left behind, would help me begin to let go. I told people they too could sew small items and I could attach them to the burial shroud, or include them. One friend is making a knit cover to place over her eyes, before we place earth on her-I had told her that was my ritual, and she is making it out of Assumpta's wool. I received two quilted stitched pieces from followers, shown here, that just got me! And another came today that is lovely.

Rosie is going to be okay. I know she will. I think the reason I'm having a bit of trouble with letting go is...she still is sort of symbolic of my relationship with my father, and she was my first pig. So many 'firsts' happened out West at the first Apifera. My dad was in hospice when I brought Rosie to the farm, and I would lather her up in sunscreen and oil [she has a skin issue and always has] and it reminded me of my father's dry skin who often was in pain in the last months due to it, but the nurses would put soothing lotions on him. So as I cared for my grumpy pig, my father lay in hospice and I could not travel to him, but I thought of him through Rosie. Her personality is also like my father-a heart of gold covered in layers of grumpy thoughts. But I loved him, and I love her, even though she refuses belly rubs, and just wants to be alone.

So, we have talked about 'when' and 'where' and I won't announce that until the deed is over and she is on her way to a heaven where maybe everyone will be grumpy and she will feel very happy-grumpy. It is complicated too that she is a muse and always has been. But muses must rest. And it would be wrong of me to keep her alive for my own selfish reasons...and I also know that if she began to suffer in the winter I would be upset with myself, and she probably will.

She is a very unusual animal. I saw a photo of her that was taken in her prime, her hair was thick and she was out and about in the sun. Her hair today is very thin, her rear end is weak and she can hardly walk with out stopping or tripping. I know the vet agrees.

The items people are sending are helping me, and honoring her. It will be hard that day, but, a relief for her, and me when she is free of her old body. You can still send things-even little trinkets, buttons, toys-things that will give her help on her next journey. But don't wait too long. Winter is coming.

Rosie the pig
c/o Apifera Farm
315 Waldoboro RD, Bremen ME 04551

A letter that made me cry came with a little quilted piece