Ladies, your beard will grow back

When we did shearing back in March, I neglected to tell our wonderful shearer not to shave Sophie's beard. To be honest, I was so absorbed in dealing with the wool, that I didn't notice Sophie's beard was gone for a couple days!

So I am pleased to announce, The Beard is returning!

I don't even know how to title this...but it's important...to me anyway

There is no doubt about it that caregivers and managers at elder care facilities have a stressful and difficult job balancing the needs of the elder residents and their needs with the needs and concerns of the outside family and friends. I was aware of HIPAA laws but really not well versed in them, why would I be? I have since learned a lot, and continue to educate myself on it, even though I am not an employee of a hospital or facility. One thing I have learned, even though the law is there to protect a patient's right to privacy and security of their medical information, it is a flawed law, and all you have to do is 'google' it and you will find that out. I am in no way saying people should not abide by the law, but am pointing out how the law can create difficulties.

Some incidences that occur with this law, to give you an idea of why I use the term 'flawed', are that let's say a resident lives in a facility or home, and one day his friend doesn't come to breakfast. The staff is not allowed to tell him what happened, unless by chance the disappearing person put his friend on a list. Anyone that might have been volunteering at the facility, no matter how long they had been coming and no matter how fond they were of the disappearing person, they too would not be told what happened. Many articles talk about how the law has made many hospital/medical/care givers fearful, and when someone is acting from fear, I wonder if the patient is really number one anymore. And it puts stress on the caregiver too.

I found out last week on one of my visits with Opie, that someone I care about deeply and have grown fond of over the past two years is transitioning out of this realm. I will refer to this person as Beautiful Cloud. When I arrived, there was someone in a room with the window open a crack, and there were a couple of people I did not know with name tags on. One of the name tag people tapped on the window, and asked me to hold up the goat. I did, and through the window I heard Beautiful Cloud's voice call Opie's name.

I knew something was happening but did not linger at the window. I went to sit in the garden waiting for the residents. It was a perfectly beautiful day. Before the residents came out, a staff person who has always been very nice came and told me I was not to mention Beautiful Cloud's name. Because of HIPAA laws, no details could be told to me.

One by one, Opie's friends came out. Looking back on this day, I truly think Opie picked up on the vibe of everything...maybe more from me than anything. I was my same usual happy self with the residents, but inside I felt off balance and off guard. If someone could have warned me before hand about White Cloud, or perhaps given me guidelines of do's and don'ts it might have helped, but I was told that is against HIPAA laws. Opie was very quiet, and even lay down, which he has never done on a visit. We all talked about many things as usual–movies, gardens, food, and aging to name a few things. But then the residents brought up White Cloud, and even though my lips were sealed, they told me of White Cloud's situation. They were not fearful for White Cloud. I wanted to talk to them about it, but I decided to be honest,

"I was told not to bring White Cloud up," to which they said they trusted me, and we talked about the idea of heaven and such, and what a good death can be, and we moved onto other topics.

As I was leaving, I had to go by the same window of White Cloud, and I asked the manager if I could at least acknowledge her, with Opie, through the window, I felt it might help White Cloud even for a second–and I wanted to acknowledge this being, this part of our relationship, by saying something. Yes, saying something, anything, to White Cloud would help me too. The manager got the window open more so I could hold Opie up, and White Cloud was only about three feet away. White Cloud said what they always said upon seeing Opie,

"Opie...Opie...Opie..." with a weak smile.

"He recognizes your voice, White Cloud," I said through the screen.

"He does? Opie, Opie..." White Cloud said one more time.

"Opie and I are going to be thinking of you," I told White Cloud, who was now feeling a bit weak, so we departed.

So, I don't know. I get this is part of the work I'm doing. But I left that day feeling frustrated. What will happen to any of us in our old age if we are pent up in rooms with laws meant to protect us, but not able to communicate basic small things to the outside people who might make a small difference in the end of our lives. I will miss White Cloud, I have no idea where they are in their transition, and I will not be told. That is the way it is.

My work with elder creatures has shown me the powerful effect of simply being present at the end of a creature's life...of laying a hand on the brow, to say, "It's okay, someone is here."I realize my role with Opie is not to be a hospice nurse, or daughter, or mother. But I guess one of the things that upset me to my core on this visit was, after getting to know White Cloud for two years, it felt like that was underestimated. I'm glad I asked if I could say something to White Cloud, if I hadn't asked, I never would have been able to say those final words and let them see Opie.

Maybe I don't know one darn thing about anything.

Beautiful

Just a beautiful image of a beautiful animal under a beautiful sky. That's a lot of beautiful.

Annual hay drive

It's easiest to do this on Go Fund so please consider help-if you can!

I bought 450 bales last year but with the harsh winter we needed another 150 in February and were lucky our hay guy had it. So this year I'm getting 550 bales.

Bales were $5.50 last year, hoping they are the same this year.  Poco the Poet has agreed to partake and send poems out, he is pondering the essence of hay, something he will relish writing about, I think.

There is also a reward level for a print.

If you prefer to send a check, that is fine. Make checks to Apifera Farm, 315 Waldoboro RD, Bremen, ME, 04551 and mark "Hay Fund". I will add your donation tot he online total. Your donation is tax deductible.

Visit the hay funding page >

This is about 1/4 of our annual hay

Listen in on an old goat cocktail hour

Old Goat Cocktail Hour available at shop

Back in Oregon, Old Man Guinnias, a remarkable goat in case you didn't know, started having a cocktail hour for the other elders. I had nothing to do with it. I have no idea where the gin came from, or the glass ware. I did catch this conversation one night as I did barn chores. It makes me think a cocktail hour might be something to suggest to the elders here. Spirits area fine companion under the setting sun, a way to release memories if done properly. There was that time Wilbur the Acrobatic Goat found Guinness's gin stash though. It's just, without The Head Troll, I am quite lost at organizing them all....perhaps someone will begin to be in charge and more cocktails will be served. We shall see.

"What time does cocktail hour begin?" asked Aunt Bea.

"Same time as yesterday, 5 pm," said Old Man Guinnias.

"When was yesterday?" asked Lofa.

"It was not today, but the day before," said Guinnias.

"What time does cocktail hour begin?" said Lofa.

Martyn clutches his pearls

It was a very busy weekend. Saturday was hot and muggy...that always leads to trouble in the barnyard, not because of the animals, but because of my mood. I have a hard time with summer weather and the humidity is a killer for me. Just as there are folks who really have physical and emotional challenge in cold weather [I do not], there are many of us who rate summer as the least desirable in the seasons. I try to focus on the good of summer, I really do, but if the temp rises, or my arms are covered in welts from reactions to fly bites [which they are] I get a tish spent.

So it was a nice surprise to get this beautiful shawl from a friend who stopped by for other reasons, and handed me this. It is made from our Apifera wool, and I always get verklempt when I work with things that have come from our animals. It is lovely weight wool, soft, which CVM is known for. I even used it last night as the heat dissipated on Sunday with a chill in the air.

As usual, I asked Martyn to pose with it so I could post it. I always admire the way he drops everything without complaint and takes my request so seriously. He was standing there with it over his shoulders, his arms at his side, and I said,

"Pretend you are clutching it, like you were clutching pearls."

And voila, another Martyn Moment caught on camera.

On Saturday, as I said, it was hot. I was grumpy. I got into arguments with many of the animals. They all know what to do when this happens, back off and let it pass. It always does. By Sunday, I was hanging out and communing again. I appreciate their ability to let me be me, as much as even I can't stand walking around as me in the heat. Sorry guys. Winter is coming, I'll be fine.

On Sunday we had to take down a huge tree, by the outer barn, because the third barn begins next week. Martyn is experienced with felling trees, and he does not take chances. I trust him to do anything he thinks he is safe to do. He has all the safety gear needed for this, and he ties an arborist rope to the tree, and then cuts notches in the tree trunk at the correct angle. He also stays safe knowing when and where to stand. I came out to be in sight of him when he was ready. I said,

"We better kiss, just in case." He laughed and we kissed.

But you know how many of these things end up on You Tube. He had the challenge of felling just right so that it missed the roof of the other barn, and also didn't hurt the 100 year old apple. I waited 100 feet away, this tree was about 20-30 feet I guess, a beautiful Ash but the pigs and girldled it so we knew eventually, soon, it would die and could do a lot of damage.

Well, he sawed for about 5 minutes, and the tree fell forward, right in between the barn and Old Apple, just as planned.

Phew. A good 3/4 cord of wood too.

And the goats will get to eat the debris now, they are thrilled. A giant pile of brush awaited them this morning and I watched as they ventured over to the new breakfast bar.

The weather Sunday was so perfect. Seventies, a breeze so few bugs, and the animals, and myself, all communed. I worked on putting up more electric wire to protect the fences from Boone leaning over to greener pastures. But I took time to stop a lot, and sit with the animals.

Don't forget, nor shall I, I am an artist

I'm working on adding to the existing card line–there are currently 26 choices of beautiful art cards at the shop.

I'm going to be freshening it up even more in the coming months and just added these images.