• Mary-Kate and I went out to the pole barn and were surprised to find that one of my pigs, Daisy, had started to have her piglets.  When all was said and done she had 9.  Good job for her first litter.  She had two backward that we know of but all in all had not apparant trouble.  Seems like a good sow and I think I will keep her.  She seems to be accepting them well and is nursing them.

I love to watch them nurse especially when they get a little older and they tumble over each other and fight for the teats.  There's always enough to go around but they act as if they are going to starve to death if they don't get it all for themselves.

Here's Mary-Kate showing one the way to the food.  Sometimes they get a little lost and try to suck on the wrong things.  Like mom's ear or foot or tail.   Once they get there they get the hang of it real fast though.

I actually managed to get pictures of one of them coming backwards.  She seemed to be having no trouble and didn't need my help for a change so I was free to enjoy the experience and take pictures for a nice change.  Here are the feet coming first instead of the snout.

One more mighty push and there was a piglet.  Mary-Kate needed to clear it's nose and mouth and rub it a little since it did come backward but after a few minutes it was trying to find food along with the rest of its brothers and sisters.

It's hard to believe that they get so big when they start out so small.  It's also hard to believe that they get so dirty and smelly when they are so cute and clean when they are small.  I guess the same could be said of all of us.  This miracle is why I like pigs so much.  In the next few days we should be having a couple more litters.  Let's hope that the next two sows do as well.

 I thought that I would post some pictures that you might enjoy from around the farm.  This first one is from our flood this past spring.  Ian's truck had a broken universal and was stranded in the valley.  Within hours of this picture being taken the valley was flooded and the truck was completely surrounded by water.

This tree continues to survive spring floods each year.  We had a very mild winter up until the last week of January and then we got all of our traditional winter in the first three weeks of February.  We were measuring snow in feet instead of inches and the temperature was routinely falling below zero.  Then early in March it warmed up into the 50's and that was our spring flood.  Then the temp. fell again and we got a heavy snowfall early in April.  Fortunately that was winter's last hurrah.  It has been chilly but no more snow.  Thank God!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We have some seriously beautiful sunrises and sunsets.  Matthew took this picture at sunrise one morning when he went out to do his chores.  That barn is no longer there so all future sunrises will be unobstructed.  That is also where we have our rainbows.  Some days it seems that you can walk out into the pasture and grab the pot of gold that is supposed to reside at the end of the rainbow.

Just some of my favorite flowers that grow around the farm.  When we were courting and when we were first married Doug used to take the time to bring me bouquets of violets when he came in from the fields.

Buttercups, another sure sign of spring.  The sight of these always lifts my spirits.  I think I like them better than any hothouse flower that grows.  They are simple and humble. 

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I know others, especially farmers, would like to be rid of dandelions, but not me.  These are truly a humble flower.  And most useful.  The greens are edible, the flowers are great for you little ones to pick and bring to you in bouquets.  I taught all of my children to blow the seeds away when they got ripe like this one is.  I don't even mind when the milk gets all over my hands or the kids clothing.  When I was a girl my sister and I used to make necklaces and crowns out of dandelions and we used to pick huge bouquets for our mother.  It's a shame that they die off so quickly in the vase.

Actually life with Patrick was not worse than with any other precocious (sp?) little boy.  I just learned early on that he was a lot smarter than I.  Once he started school I had to study day and night to stay one step ahead of him. (thank God for teachers manuals).  Once he could read it was just a matter of keeping him in books.  It became clear early on that adventures that included knights in shining armour were his favorites.  King Arthur and such tales were the stuff of which his dreams were made.

 He started young making swords of anything that he could get his hands on and practicing intricate sword play.  All the time that I thought I was bringing him up to be a good Catholic boy by reading him stories of the saints and their heroics backfired on me one fine day.  He and his older brother attempted to pretend to beat their younger brother to death just like in the story of St. Tarcissus.  Another time I discovered the same younger brother tied to the bed post with the wooden blocks piled around his feet patiently waiting to be burned at the stake just like St. Joan of Arc.  So much for reading them stories of the saints in the hopes of them imitating their virtues. 

I'm sure after reading Patricks writing anyone can see that he has a vivid imagination.  It started at a young age and was fed with only the best literature.  Such authors as Stevenson, Jacques, Poe, and other classical authors entered our home and came to stay and fed every one of my children. 

Patrick with the whole clan.

The elusive author himself.

  Patrick's younger sister

His youngest brother being useful as well as decorative.

Jason helping take down a barn.  Check out those muscles.

Oldest brother.  I don't know what's up with the do rag. 

Patrick loves hanging with his intellectual equals.  Actually little children love him because he is so uncomplicated.  He just lets them be themselves and that is the key to communicating with kids.

We miss you.

I have to start posting because my son doesn't answer me.  He said he didn't because I posted nothing on my site.  So I thought I would give a little insight on what life was like raising him. 

First I have to complain about having to call him by a pen name.  Why did I bother giving him a name at all?  First the army took away the perfectly lovely name that I gave him and called him by his last name. Then he starts writing and assumes a pen name and abandons his first name.  Oh well, I guess that's what comes from raising an artistic child. 

I won't embarass him by posting pics of him as a baby but he was cute. The trite but useful phrase that describes all babies.  He was born 10 lbs. 4ozs.  The only problem with "Patrick" was his disinclination toward sleeping.  For the first two years of his life his father and I took turns staying up all night with him.  To this day I don't think he believes in sleeping for very long at any given time.  (I think he was afraid of missing something). 

Fast forward to about 4years old.  Past the days of feeding food coloring to his older brother and sucking magic markers and other such troublesome happenings in his life.  One day he climbs up on the lap of a distant relative and "reads" a favorite book to him.  We all think it is cute and only assume that he has memorized the book that we have read to him ad nauseum.  But, after handing him another book that hasn't been read so many times and he reads that also, do we have to assume that he has taught himself to read and we have to start this childs schooling now.  Skip kindergarten and go right into first grade with his older brother.

This is my exceptionally intelligent and bright young son.  He is also developing a love for opera. (it's all that calms him when he is driving all of us crazy).  It is true that music calms the wild beast. 

I would do it all again in an instant if I was asked.  I love you Patrick.

Hang in there and remember that you are in my prayers daily.

mom