God's Provision

The joys of living on a farm outnumbers the challenges. Caring for our animals on a daily basis not only requires feeding and making certain they have fresh water but the administering of wormers, vaccinations and a variety of general care. Each type of animal requires a different feed and the knowledge of its individual design to properly raise and maintain it's survivability.
Chickens have been a passion of mine for over twenty years. I still delight in the fact that God has provided us with all we need for our sustainability.
Each morning we go out, open the coop door and give them some chicken mash and fresh water. We use a natural parasite control and organic dusting powder for lice and mites. Chickens are relatively easy to keep other than the constant watch for predators. Our farm resides along the Conewago Creek, so we seem to have a variety of fox, raccoons, possum, and chicken hawks. We even have a resident bald eagle that nests along the creek and sits in one of our trees to peruse her delectable fancies. A massive white owl has been known to visit on occasion. All of these predators are a constant source for absconding my cherished feathered flock.
It was broad daylight when I heard our chickens creating a loud cackling stir. We raced out to the coop to find that something had brazenly entered. I could see white feathers scattered across the field. Upon further investigation the first and largest patch of feathers were located where our chicken had been killed. Right next to the feathers remained a pile of her intestines. We then discovered a fresh pile of dung that the animal left as a way to mark it's territory. Fortunately, I had recently purchased a tracking book, which Daisey fetched so that we could inspect our findings. As I flipped through the pages, I eyed a surprising perfect match. It was undoubtedly a fox. We could hear the foxes eerie calls during the night. Their shrill screams sends chills up my spine when walking in our darkened fields.
Now that we had identified our culprit, we set out to track our adversary. We swayed back and forth across the field as if we were on a treasure hunt. We could see an occasional feather that kept us on coarse. As we approached a ravine, we came to an end. Our Border Collie Cassie had been eagerly tagging along. We sent her down by the stream that naturally flowed between the crevices of the terrain. She seemed to be onto something, as she frantically sniffed and began to paw at a pile of leaves. Our son Dustin climbed down to help her unearth her prized discovery. There it was, neatly tucked under the leaves resting close to the cold free flowing water. The fox had intelligently placed it for safe keeping so that she could come back for it when she needed to feed her young. We placed the leaves back over the top of our chicken as the fox had rightfully won her kill.
We walked back across the open field realizing that we were not only provided with a knowledgeable adventure, but we witnessed first hand God's provision for all of his creatures.
C.A. Bresin

Fabulous Foxes
Foxes belong to the canid family and include such species as red fox, kit fox, swift fox, fennec fox, arctic fox and gray fox, just to name a few. While some species of canid have been hunted almost to extinction because of their penchant for livestock and the depletion of their natural habitats, some species of fox such as the red fox have adapted well to changing times and find great opportunities for food and shelter in urban environments. The red fox is not a finicky eater, and will ingest beetles, worms, frogs, birds, eggs, mice, fruits and refuse.
Similar Characteristics: All species of foxes have similar characteristics. They tend to be light brown, reddish, gray or dark brown in color, except for the arctic fox, which is pure white in winter. Most foxes have relatively large ears that stand up straight and long bushy tails. Home for most foxes is a den tucked away among rock crevices, an abandoned rabbit burrow or a tree hole in the case of the gray fox.

DID YOU KNOW?
Fox Names
A pack of foxes is called a "skulk."
A fox's bushy tail is called a "brush."
And its acute muzzle is called a "fox face."

On the Brink
Some fox species, such as the red fox, are highly adaptive. Others, like the crab-eating fox of South America and the bat-eared fox of Africa, are on the brink of extinction in their native habitats.

Cold-Adapted Fox
The arctic fox has several adaptions to its cold environment, including thick, white fur, a good supply of body fat and a system of blood circulation in its paws that keep them constantly warm.
http://animal.discovery.com/mammals/fox/

Shearing Day 2011

A Pioneer Spirit

The day had arrived that Emma would journey across the wide open sea to a new land. She had diligently saved her money for her ticket on the ship Helvetia. The journey would take forty days or more and there would be no turning back. All she had known was her birth place of Appelbo Sweden. Being a young lady her sights were fresh and untainted. With youth comes the freedom from unknown fears and the willingness to experience unsettled territories.
From the moment Emma stepped foot onto the Helvetia, her heart raced with excitement as she anticipated the journey ahead. The large crowds of people filed to their designated cabins, but many more would be escorted to the steerage below the ships deck. The massive trunks filled with treasured belongings were stored below and a carry on bag of personal necessities remained with each passenger.
One could feel the era of excitement as the passengers shuffled around. After the first and second class passengers settled in, many returned to the deck to wave farewell to those that were left behind. With arms waving, for some this would be their last farewell. The voices and cheers over shadowed the ships whistle that bellowed as the large vessel pulled from the shore. For a moment, there seemed to be an unsettling calm as the emotions of leaving their loved ones brought forth the reality of the journey ahead.
As they set sail, the waters were brisk and the smell of salt water filled the air. It was not long before there was music playing and many of the passengers were brought joy by and endless night of celebration and dancing. This was a time of festivities and the making of new friends that all shared one common virtue, a pioneer spirit.
C.A.Bresin

The development of passenger vessels made the journey easier, cheaper, and faster for many immigrants. By the 1870s, steam powered ships replaced sailing ships. They were bigger, faster and safer. Immigrants in the early 1800s had to endure voyages averaging 40 days, depending on weather; by the 1900's, the average voyage was only one week long.
In order to account for and regulate immigration, the US government established immigrant processing centers on both the East and West Coasts. 70% of the European immigrants beginning in 1855 would be dropped off at Castle Garden on Manhattan Island and pass a series of examinations. In 1892, a new immigrant center at Ellis Island was built to replace Castle Garden. On the West Coast, immigrants, mostly Chinese or Japanese, arrived through Seattle or Angel Island in San Francisco.
The increased convenience of immigration did not, however, imply a level of comfort for the immigrants anywhere near modern standards. Poor sanitation and food, as well as diseases such as cholera and typhus, were still common on the trans-Atlantic liners.
Immigrants who could only afford the minimal third-class fees of about $30 were referred to as "steerage passengers." The name came from the part of the ship, the steerage, where they were kept and which provided the cheapest possible accommodations. It was crowded below deck, and steerage passengers were seldom allowed to go up for fresh air. The trans-Atlantic shipping companies had not yet learned to provide efficient basic services, such as food, and often fed passengers nothing but soup or stew, and sometimes bread, biscuits, or potatoes.
Many immigrants had to wash themselves with salt water while drinking stagnant water that was stored in dirty casks. At the root of these problems was a mindset on the part of many of the companies that considered the immigrants "human cargo." These same companies would often ship American-made goods to Europe on the return trip, and could not yet see the essential distinction between transporting products and people. They would learn with time.
Even after the tough voyage, immigrants were not guaranteed entry to America. About 250,000 people (2% of all immigrants) were sent back home. 1st and 2nd class passengers were inspected on the ship, but 3rd class passengers had to go to Ellis or Angel Island for screening, waiting about three to five hours in line and undergoing inspections of both a medical and legal nature.
Officials at Ellis Island also did something that is not commonly done today. When they could not pronounce an immigrant's name, the immigration inspectors thought that this gave them the prerogative to change the name to something less difficult. Names like "Andrjuljawierjus" might be simplified to "Andrews" or something similar.
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/268908/immigration_from_1870_to_1920_the_journey.html?cat=37

Quilts For Sale

Moving across the United States always brought unwanted anticipation. The questions raced through my mind as I embraced the new adventure. Would I like my new home and the people who would surround me? Could I find a good doctor for my family? Would everyday necessities cost more? Where would I purchase feed and hay for our animals? Is there a good veterinarian in the area? So many things to consider and all of them out of my control. This particular move brought a deeper venue, a change in culture. We were moving among the Amish. I enjoyed soaking in the ambiance of the passing buggies. Slowing down to consider another way of life was something I admired. On my way to town to get groceries, I would take the Amish backgrounds and drink in the beautiful farms with pristine gardens laden with flowers. Often times, I would see a Amish farmer working with his majestic draft horses gathering shocks into a neatly packed array. As I rode further down the dirt roads, I passed an Amish one room school house. This was another cherished opportunity to watch the children playing in their school yard enveloping in the traditions of their community.
One of my favorite stops was the Amish tack store. The buggies were hitched to posts out front. When entering the dimly light wooden building, the stoves were filled with coal that brought about a warmth that was like no other. The heavy boarded floors resounded as you walked through out the shop. The shelves were neatly stacked with work boots, oil lamps, and other accessories. The upstairs was filled with saddles and bridles. Along the wall were red wagons awaiting the some little boy or girl who would happily use them for pleasure or possible to carry supplies. Even the Amish children knew what it was to work and contribute to the livelihood of their family.
There was always a few Amishman off to the side of the front counter. They busily repaired leather bridles and any other work that needed to be done for their Amish and English customers. I frequented this tack shop for some time before I was no longer looked at as an outsider but someone that was here to do business like so many others.
On one particular day, I noticed a black and white hand painted sign out front of an Amish home that read, Quilts For Sale. As I pulled in, I marveled at the serenity of the this home. We went in the little shop and sitting quietly doing some needle work sat a Amish lady. She sat quietly while we looked through the endless displays of hand sewn quilts. There was a rack of quilts that were neatly displayed. A double bed sat next to a sun lite window that you could fold back one quilt after another. An endless masterpiece of hand sewn needle work that created some of the most beautiful patterns and an endless array of colors.
On one of my many stops to the Amish quilt shop, I noticed my little Amish lady entering her house to have coffee with an English neighbor. I remember thinking what a honor and privilege to have and Amish friend and especially this one.
One day I got up the nerve to ask her name and she glanced from her work to say in a slight Dutch accent, Mary Ann. She seemed to become more comfortable with me as my daughters and son would enter on a regular weekly basis.
On one of my visits she asked if I would take her to pick up a new Chihuahua puppy at another Amish house. A buggy ride would be quite a ride but a ride in a car would get her there and back in no time. She was so excited to get her new puppy and offered to pay me for my time. I surprised her by saying, that I would take a kiss on the cheek for payment. May Anne giggled and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
Our friendship grew and we were later invited to their home for a dinner. This was like being in a dream or stepping into the pages of a story book. These were not just some Amish people, Danielle and Mary Ann became true friends.