Why my stomach flu was a really good thing

A few days ago, I had the worst stomach flu of my life. I will spare you the details, but I can tell you it was not pretty. Feverish and fighting the urge to throw up, I managed to drag myself to the goat barn three times that day so I could check on Miss Dandelion, my very, very pregnant goat whose due date came and went. I take pride in never having missed a birth in over a decade of raising many goats, and gosh-darn it, the flu wouldn't keep me from missing that one.

Alas - nothing. Dandelion's bulging sides are getting bigger, and she is getting more and more uncomfortable. I might have to pitch the tent in the barn tonight so I can assist her when the time comes.

You would look grump, too, if you were that pregnant.

I'm watching the goats for signs of labor. Don't you know, Corina? A watched pot never boils, and a watched goat never gives birth.

The upside of this flu was that it slowed me down. Typically an uber-productive type A German workaholic, I get a lot done in a day. However, ever since the flu, I've sat on the couch or outside on a picnic chair, reading.

The day after the flu felled me was so beautiful and sunny, I parked myself under the dogwood tree and watched my industrious family. The small ones built a platform in the dogwood tree, where they perched, sang, snacked, swung and hung from.

My industrious husband (I didn't marry a slacker, that's for sure) worked around the yard, repairing a pole shed that had been damaged by a big hemlock in a windstorm, weeding garlic that's poking its green shoots out of the soil, and helping set up a fence for the ducks. This was the first time we let them out of their electric fence to free range, but we still need to keep them from visiting with the neighbors' ducks by installing a smaller fence.

One of the most amusing things that day was watching puppy Raka with the ducks. She's new to ducks, and she would looooooove to chase them, but she is, of course, not allowed to. 

And then there's the Raka-and-the-chicks-show, which made me laugh so hard, my poor abs (already sore from throwing up) hurt. The pup presses her nose agains the chicken wire, and the chicks come up to her and try to pick at her teeth. I'm not making this up. It's a comedy show, that one.

Besides the fact that I haven't eaten any real food (just broth) in almost three days, life is good. Flowers are appearing almost overnight. Let me leave you with images around our yard.

What made you laugh this week? Leave a comment in the section below so we can share the joy!

Joy

When I was a twelve-year-old girl in Germany, I spent a lot of time roaming the scenic countryside with Emil, our family dog.  Just my dog and I, sneaking under fences into meadows belonging to cows with gigantic bells around their necks, exploring streams and forests, getting lost too many times I'd like to admit, and having a great time at that.

Ever since my childhood I have felt almost naked when I walk without a dog.  A hike is not the same without a dog prancing happily ahead, or sitting by a river without a dog blissfully digging in the sand next to me.
When my old companion Pluto died a few months ago, he left a big hole in my heart, one I didn't think would ever be filled by a dog in the same way again.

And then little Raka weaseled herself into our life, bringing with it a tsunami of love and chaos.  This little puppy is bringing joy to the whole family, but I think it is I who is especially taken by her.  The happy bonding hormone oxytocin is coursing through my veins when I hold her, or even just talk to her.

I'm a little bit embarrassed to admit that talking to my puppy involves elaborate baby talk (from me, not her).  I just can't help it.  My voice automatically shifts into blibber-blabber-squeaky-baby-talk, and when I asked my husband if I am annoying the heck out of him with it, he said he actually likes it.  But when I started talking to him like that, he might have peed himself a little laughing.

On our walks, Raka manages to insert herself into every picture, even when I try to just take a photo of a cool piece of bark with lichen on it.  Somehow, she shoots out underneath the ferns, and there she is.  Well, I guess "No Trespassing" signs don't apply to puppies. 

 

She is getting plenty of exercise playing with the kids or the neighbor's dog and going for walks.  When she gets too tired, I give her a lift.

Another great source of joy this week: FOOD!  I cannot tell you how well we eat in our home.  Last night, for example, I looked around the dinner table and was struck by how much of it was grown, raised, preserved and cooked from scratch on our land.  There was home made, slow fermented, no knead bread (I'm going to teach an online workshop on this soon), sprouts, dill pickles, my gouda cheese, kombucha...

We also made 23 pounds of pork sausage with the meat from pigs we raised with whey from my cheesemaking, organic grain and pasture.  I tell you, the house smelled fantastic because we fried up samples of each batch on the spot.  There was breakfast sausage with maple syrup, sage, ginger, thyme and nutmeg, and then there was caraway sausage with white wine, caraway, fresh parsley, onions, allspice and maple syrup, and of course kielbasa with lots of garlic and majoram.  Steve and I might have consumed the rest of the bottle of white wine we used for the caraway sausage, although it was only noon.  See how much fun sausage making is at our house?
The recipes for our sausage are in this blog post from last year.

Our life is so good.

I will leave you with images from an outing to our favorite creek down the road.  It's a magical, wild, joyful place.  

  How are you finding joy this week?

Raka, our new puppy

If you follow me on Instagram or Facebook, you might groan "Not ANOTHER puppy picture!"  I know, I know.  I am a tiny little bit in love with our new puppy girl.  Not only is she cute, but she might also be with us through some major life changes.  Just think: She might still be alive when my now 13-year-old son Kai makes me a grandma, or my now 11-year-old son Luke graduates from college, or my now six-year-old daughter Eva gets married.  Oh man!  All I'm saying is, this dog will hopefully be with us throughout my kids' coming of age lives.  That's a big deal!  You know what I'm saying?

Meet Raka, which means "Grandmother moon" in Sanskrit and "Wolf" in Elven language.  I wanted to name her "Luna", since my beloved Pluto dog (RIP) was named after a celestial body as well, but her majesty Eva hated that name.  So Raka it is.

She's a Labrador-Chesapeake mix, two months old, with razor sharp teeth and claws, silky soft fur and a lovely, calm temperament.

Too bad the poor thing is so neglected and unloved at our house.  Ahem.

She is getting socialized with plenty of kid activity, other people, goats and neighbor dogs.  I think she will be a great dog.  Raka has an incredible role model to live up to, since Pluto was the perfect dog.

This definitely was the week of the dog.  Before we picked up Raka, we kidnapped a neighbor's dog who loves to come with whenever we walk by.  We spent a lovely couple of hours wandering to the creek, throwing sticks and enjoying a break in the non-stop rainy weather.

Just showing some of the handspun, handknit woollens that keep us warm and dry in winter

What are you in love with these days?