Disturbing on So Many Levels

In the mountains, there are certain animals that seem to exist in the food chain, and certain animals that... Well... Don't. 

The ones that survive seem to be the really big ones, like bears, mountain lions, coyotes, deer, elk, moose, etc... Small ones, like mice and rats, seem to do fairly well for themselves as well.

Cats are part of the grouping of animals that.... Don't.... really..... have..... much luck surviving in the mountains. The mountain lions and coyotes really like to eat them. It's a fact.

And you know what happens when the cats don't survive? The mice do.

Above is a picture of our beloved, dearly departed (we're pretty sure), Redford.

Oh, Redford... He was SUCH a good cat. The best. Not only did he single-handedly keep the mouse population at bay around our house, but also was sweet, house-trained (no litter box... he went outside), and good with the kids.

When I was pregnant with Little Blue Eyes and experiencing some cramping early on, nothing helped until he crawled into bed with me and layed on my abdomen for a couple hours, helping me fall asleep. I don't know what it was -- the warmth or the weight of his soft little body -- but when I woke up, the cramping was gone.

Like I said, he was SUCH a good cat. Sob.

We were very sad when he disappeared last June. At first we weren't going to get another cat, but then I figured I would rather have a cat than mice, so that is how Paula Deen came into our family...

I really like her and she is almost everything I could ever want in a cat.

She's really pretty.

But guess what... Pretty is as pretty does.

She really is not a very good mouser. We don't let her outside because, like I happened to mention, cats don't fare so well living outdoors in the mountains, and we'd rather keep her alive, unlike poor Redford.

Sob.

This leads me to the incredibly disturbed state that I find myself in at the moment.

It all started innocently enough... Some family had passed onto us some baby clothes. I had the urge to wrangle up all of our baby clothes, some of which were packed away in our basement (which is unfinished and is not connected to the main level of our house... you have to go outside to another door) and sort through them, organizing them by size, gender, country in which they were produced and the RGB color scale.

Yes, I was going to get things organized.

I went down to the basement to get the tubs of clothes stored down there. Somehow this little task mushroomed to me embarking upon a full exploration of the contents of all of the tubs of randomness stored in our basement, as well as miscellaneous horse tack, fencing equipment, gardening supplies, household items, and the like.

I was getting way to big for my britches.

I'm always up for a big project, and since we're (hopefully) moving sometime soon here, I thought I had better just dive in and get the basement all tidied up.

The thing is -- and this is where my current state of mental disturbance comes in -- there was mouse poop EVERYWHERE.

Shudder. Shake. Cringe. Squint. Gag. Shiver.

I am not opposed to getting my hands dirty. I have done my share of dirty jobs and come out the other side sparking and triumphant. I can handle the dirt. I can handle some grunge.

But mouse poop is another matter.

Luckily, I did not do any sweeping or vacuuming or really anything that would have stirred it up much and made it airborne, but I am still totally freaked out. Why? Because I did a little internet research (after I emerged from the basement, of course) and found out about a little thing called the hantavirus.

Shiver.

In sort of a weird coincidence, Mr. Blue Eyes was meeting at our church with a local health department worker to keep up on the water system maintenance, so I called him and asked if he could pick the guy's brain as to how to deal with all this mouse poop. He said that they really don't worry too much about hantavirus where we live because it is transmitted by the deer mouse, and most of our mice are field mice.

O.k., so that's good.

He said to use a bleach solution to disinfect before cleaning.

O.k., good. I still don't want to have anything to do with the mouse poop, but at least we don't have to hire a haz-mat team or anything.

The chances are slim that I would have inhaled anything, and even slimmer that anything I did inhale would contain the virus.

Sure, good.

But in all honesty, I am still FREAKED OUT! I think all my internet research almost gave me a heart attack.

I'm just a bit shaken up about the whole thing.

To get my mind off of it, I immersed myself in the world of baby clothes. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy for awhile. Then I realized the immense amount of clothes that I have to sort through and that feeling of approaching heart attack crept back. Then I started having visions of all the boxes and boxes and boxes and boxes that I'll have to deal with when we move, and I felt like I was going to faint.

Seriously... The head spinning, walls closing in and everything.

Now I'm sitting here, writing to any of you who will read, sharing my freaked-outed-ness. And you know what, I think it helps me feel a little bit better! I just needed someone to know what I'm going through. Thanks for listening. You're super.

I think I'm ready to take on those baby clothes now.

p.s. - Redford, I miss you so, so much. If by some small chance you're still alive, please come home and lay on my uterus and kill all the mice.

Farmer Gal Ramble #2

It's All Going Down the Toilet

This afternoon I am taking Miss Peaches down for a visit with her doctor regarding her vesicoureteral reflux problem, or backflow (from the bladder to the kidneys) as I like to call it. I am really, really, really undecided about what to do, even after researching and thinking it over continuously... Put her on a daily low dose of antibiotics to prevent u.t.i.'s? Treat the u.t.i.'s as they come and hope that she doesn't get very many? I'm hoping that her doctor, who I like and whose daughter had the same condition, will have some perspective for me.

One thing that I have decided to try is early potty training.

Whaaaat? I know, it's a little bit ambitious. She's not even nine months old. But I have read about people potty training their babies even earlier than this with success. Actually, my mom told me that she had my oldest brother potty trained by the time he was a year old.

My thinking is that, if she learns to use the potty instead of going in her diaper, it will reduce the chance that E. coli travels from her poop up into her bladder, because the poop will go into the toilet instead of squishing around into places that poop just isn't supposed to go.

That's my theory.

And I figure that, even if it doesn't help reduce her risk of u.t.i.'s, at least I may end up with a potty trained one-year-old. I'm on board with that. I'm also on board with it not working at all, if that ends up being the case, but I'm going to give it the ol' college try.

But do you know WHAT? She peed on the potty yesterday. Twice! Seeing her sit on that potty seat was pretty cute, I just have to say. We had a good time... Singing songs, playing with toys, playing 'this little piggy' and 'peek-a-boo'. My goal is to start out having one or two successful potties a day, and along the way teaching her some sort of baby sign-language that she can eventually use to let us know she has to go, and also trying to teach her to understand that once she's on the potty she can 'let loose'.  

So, if you don't see me posting around here from time to time, it's probably because I'm spending a lot of time entertaining babies on the toilet.

Home Cooking

Sorry that I haven't been much of a good cooker lately. We've been more strapped for time and more behind than usual on keeping up with things around the house, so the meals I've been making haven't been all that blog-worthy, and even if they were I didn't have time to take pictures anyway. I'm really, really, really hoping to get back on track soon. I've got a goat cheese lasagna, some good fruit bread and a parsnip/turnip gratin up my sleeve that are in development (that means I'm still thinking over them in my head) so don't give up on me! Recipes always take a little longer to put together and post, and I just haven't had that kind of time lately.

Oh, and bacon wrapped pork tenderloin! That recipe is on the way. It looks like this...

And it also looks like this...

It's yummy. And it's all photographed and waiting with anticipation to be presented at a computer near you.

For those of you who like to check in on the Home Cooking page... See? I haven't forgotten about you. I just care too much to bring you anything less than de.lic.ious.

Farmer Gal Photography

This week I have been challenging myself to take part in 'My Life. In Pictures.' It has been fun to stretch my photographic muscle and seeing what others have come up with as well, but I can't say that I did very well on my assignments. Again, time has been an issue, but I have kept up with it daily and it has made me think about photographing my life a little differently.

I am yearning, longing, FANTASIZING about putting together basic photography posts for anyone who is interested to read them SOON! Today, I wish, but probably not. But SOON! I will be starting with the most basic of things that I have learned about my Nikon D70 dSLR and Photoshop, so if you have either of these things and are looking either at your camera dials or your computer screen and drooling like a neanderthal who has just come across his first fork and doesn't know how to use it, I may be able to help. The beginning posts are going to be very, very basic, but after that we'll get into some of the fun stuff, like how I edited this picture...

Did I happen to say these posts were going to start out with the very basics? Because if I didn't use the word basic, I did mean to.

Basic. Basic, basic, basic.

But we'll get through the basics quick-like so that we can start to have some fun.

If you've got photography experience you will be bored to tears. If you are just starting out -- again, in the neanderthal stage -- then I'm your gal.

Just to be clear.

Paula Deen Likes To Do a Poop Stance in Our Bed

At first I found this horrifying. I was sure she was getting ready to use our bed as a litter box. Over time we have realized that it is simply how she likes to nest. I still find it unnerving.

Oh, I should clarify. Not THE Paula Deen... OUR Paula Deen. Our cat...

See how her eyes match our (unmade) bedding? She looks so pretty in our bed. She certainly spends enough time there. I'm just so glad she never poops in it.

Someday I'll capture this phenomenon and share it with you. It truly is unsettling.

I think that's about all I've got to ramble on about today. You've been a trooper if you've made it this far. If I had millions I would give away some sort of prize at this point, like a year subscription to the fruit of the month club or the Garth Brooks box set. But I don't, so I won't. But I sure do thank ya' for stopping by to read today. You're the best.