Friends in Far Places

Like a good number of my posts on this blog, this post is about cows . . . by way of Africa!

In 1985, we lived in Bangui, Central African Republic, on the campus of Bangui Evangelical School of Theology (which we called FATEB, for its French abbreviation).  Our three children (at left, pre-Kara) Jimmy, Katie and Jenny, were about the age our grandchildren are now.

In September of that year, we flew halfway across the continent of Africa to Mombasa, Kenya, for a three week language acquisition course.  As part of that course, we had to find a local language helper to help us learn a few words of their language.  It was rather intimidating to walk up to a perfect stranger and try to ask them to help us learn a language when we couldn't even speak it, but we found everyone we met to be extremely friendly and eager to help. Helen Karabok, shown here with her children, taught me a few words of her language, Kikuyu, and helped me practice my few words of Swahili.

At the end of the course, we spent a week on Shelly Beach at our mission guest house, and we discovered the Indian Ocean was as beautiful as the people who lived near it--

--although definitely less welcoming, as Jimmy discovered a lethal lion fish while we were snorkeling in a tidal pool!

While we abandoned that tidal pool for another one, it didn't stop us enjoying the beauty of the beach.

To this day, shells that we gathered on Shelly Beach glow softly in the curio cabinet by the front door, and Jim's children like to "listen to the beach" in them, just as he and his sisters did.

"What does Mombasa have to do with cows?" you might ask.  A week ago I received a new comment on an old post from a reader named Sylvia, mentioning that she has dealt with self-sucking cows, too, and had benefited from my post about combating self-sucking.  Out of curiosity, I clicked on her name and discovered to my amazement that her farm is outside Mombasa!  For more photos of their cattle, check out her blog.

I wrote back to Sylvia, telling her that we had been in Mombasa in 1985 and had loved it.  Today I heard back from her with photos of what she did for her cows.  Since she offered to share her experience with my readers, I decided to reprint part of her letter here, along with the photos.

Dear Susan,

Thank you so very much for your mail, unfortunately I only manage a reply today. Internet service for my laptop is giving me a really hard time and I am still to learn writing prolonged letters on my Smartphone…

It‘s really unbelievable that you have been to Mombasa in 1985! That year was the first time I came to Kenya too; we may even have met by chance… And for me it was love on first sight and no looking back ever since. You are so right, what a small world it is!

Thank you so much for your warning about the bra [Tamm Udder Support] and its dangers, it is so sad to hear about what happened to your beloved Siobhan.  I have come across this dreadful Pseudomonas mastitis, too.  First time was from utilizing a reusable cotton udder cloth for cleaning the udder before milking and which was dipped in an Iodine solution between cows.  Since then we are only using disposable kitchen towels.  Second time and years later Pseudomonas affected two cows and came out of the iodine filled teat cup for dipping the teats after milking!!!  So both times the things that actually were meant to improve sanitation and prevent mastitis were the actual cause of it!  We lost the pregnancies in all three affected cows, almost lost the cows themselves but managed to nurse them back to full health and production (minus one quarter…), which was much aided by the use of high doses of Gentamycin intra-mammary infusions.  That actually was the only antibiotic which seems to be able to do any good to treat Pseudomonas. 

One of the three cows, Barre, is now 10 years old and still with us today and has given birth to two bulls (which we both kept for breeding) and two lovely heifers, all since her misfortune. We have in-calf heifers now which are daughters from that first bull!

The bra I am using on Cholle might have the advantage that the part covering her udder is actually a nylon fishing net, which dries instantly and Pseudomonas doesn’t seem to like synthetics much… or we were just lucky so far. But I will replace it by that fabulous invention of yours as soon as I get the parts together.

The bull ring inserted in the way shown in the pictures doesn’t impair your taste test; also rumination is not disturbed in any way, although the cow is sore for a couple of days after placing it. Well I thought it’s a little revenge for the hours of headaches and heartaches she had caused us beforehand, not to speak of the 10 liters of milk that disappeared miraculously day after day…

The cow will still try to suckle initially, so your food color test can’t be applied right away, but eventually she will get frustrated as she can’t really produce the vacuum needed to remove the milk from the teats, or so the theory goes… We have tried it twice, with a 50% success. (That’s why the bra is still in use with one of the two…)

Ario which got totally cured from self-sucking with this ring, started the habit when she was on the ground for two months after she had broken her hip when making acquaintance with a nymphomanic herdmate days before her calving date, so your observation that self-sucking might often be caused by boredom, seems to fit right for her. Two months later she was back on her feet, but all the milk was gone and being recycled…

Well, as you can see, I love talking about cows too; actually it is the one thing I love talking about most in my life! If you want to use any of my observations or pictures in your blog, please you are most welcome, I think it is so important to exchange ideas and observations, as one lifetime is much too short to experience and try out everything by oneself…

I am so much looking forward reading more Adventures on Zephyr Hill Farm and it is so great to having finally met a true soul mate!

Thank you so very much again and my very best regards to you and all your loved ones,

Sylvia

If you've ever sought help for a self-sucking cow, you know that most people will advise you it's an incurable problem and tell you to butcher the cow.  Compared to that solution, the brief pain of a nose ring seems preferable to a death sentence!  That's why I felt it was worthwhile to share Sylvia's photos and solutions.  She is a true "Cow Mama" in the fullest sense of the word--going above and beyond what most people will do.

This last photo is the most recent one Sylvia sent me, testament to her healthy, happy cows!  It is, indeed, a small world when I find a friend in Mombasa through my blog.  And since we met because of our cows, I might add, "Cows make the world go round!"

Our Heart-Home

Sometimes your heart dwells somewhere on earth that has nothing to do with where you actually live.  For many of our family members, that place is out in far West Texas where some of our extended family are ranchers.  They have generously shared their home with us over the years, and this semi-desert ranch in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains holds a very special place in our hearts.  It's not our home, but it is our Heart-Home.

Some of us made it out there last summer, but our son Jim hasn't been there in years.  This past weekend he had the opportunity of a lifetime--to fly out with a friend who pilots his own helicopter.

I once flew across half the continent of Africa in a 6-seater Cessna, and I'm pretty sure I left claw marks in the dashboard, clutching on for dear life.  After that exhilarating and terrifying experience, you would never in a million years get me into a helicopter!  When Jim texted us this photo, he called it "So happy together!"  While I admire the sleek helicopter, the ancient Jeep is more my speed for seeing the countryside!  However, that doesn't stop me from vicariously reveling in Jim's incredible aerial experience.  I hope the following eagle-eyed views will give you a glimpse of why this beautiful place will always be our Heart-Home.

Have you ever seen an upside-down rainbow?

The small white "dash" in the center of the photo is the Limpia house where Jim and his friend John are staying.  Those spots of light are reflections from the camera, because there's not another house to be seen.

As I look at the last photo, a chorus crescendoes in my head:

"Our God is an awesome God, He reigns from heaven above." 

Can't you just see Michael W. Smith and his band gathered right here, singing with all their hearts to the awesome God that created this place?

Thank you, Jim and John, for taking us along with you!

Seventy Years After D-Day

Wherever I go in the world, I'm likely to find a couple of rocks and bring them home.  In 1991, while we lived in France, we visited the Normandy beaches where the Allied soldiers landed on D-Day, June 6, 1944.  While walking along Omaha Beach, I picked up several handfuls of rocks and carried them home to Provence.  In 2001, we moved back to the States, and the rocks came with us.  When I finally dug out my rock polishers this September, I found that bag of rocks.

These rocks were so smooth, tumbled by time and tide, that they could go directly through the tumbler with medium fine grit and then on to pre-polish.  They came out shiny and wet with the promise of a beautiful finish to be revealed.

The barrel wasn't full enough, so I used pellets to fill the barrel to the 3/4 full mark.

 Next came water and the polish.

A week later, the rocks were finished.

I put them in a place of honor in my curio cabinet--a reminder of Herb's father, who fought in France, and of the many young men who gave their lives on those rocky beaches.  Seventy years later, children still laugh and play on Omaha Beach . . . What better monument could those brave soldiers ask for?

Another Eventful Week

Herb and I made a trip this week to southern Missouri to pick up stuff from my dad's house.  He passed away on D-Day.  For months now, my two aunts and uncle have been making regular trips from up near St. Louis, sorting through everything in the house, and filling a room with things for the three of us girls.  The end of last week my sister Barbara drove here with my nephew J and niece Carrie, who volunteered to feed the animals while we were gone.  We showed them what to do on Sunday evening, then hit the road.

♪ "Monday, Monday, can't trust that day!" ♫ We were treated to snow, freezing cold and icy winds.  On our way through Kentucky we passed four accidents in a short while on the slippery, snowy back roads.  Pulling a horse trailer through that made for some tense driving, but at least we were only carrying empty boxes.

By the time we got to the Ohio River, the snow had stopped and we could enjoy the view.

There's something about a river and barges that thrills me--maybe being born near the Mississippi River (pictured here) it got into my blood.

Despite a busy Monday afternoon and evening packing and a busy Tuesday morning loading the horse trailer, there was time for sharing memories, hugs and laughter with Barbara, Aunt Shirley, Aunt Dot and me.  (Uncle Rich had already gone home, and Herb was the photographer.)

All too soon we were back on the road again.  Driving conditions were a lot better.  Even the Mississippi looked a more cheerful shade of blue!  This photo was taken at the convergence with the Ohio River.

Wherever these barges had come from, they toted some snow on the Ohio.

The countryside is flatter than we're used to, the fields are bigger, and the tractors are even bigger.  Another thing that's big in Missouri is Dexters, and it was quite frustrating to be so close to so many Dexter breeders and not stop to visit a single one!

When we got home at 10 p.m. on Tuesday night, J was eager to let Herb know that he could sleep in the next morning, that he and Carrie would be glad to feed.  I enjoyed peeking out the window with my telephoto lens to watch them at work.  When they finished they shooed Sir Loin and Royal out of the garage where the hay is stored and headed back to the house.

Herb enjoyed getting to sleep in after two and a half days of driving, packing and more driving, and looking at the thermometer's 18° I was thankful to be observing from inside.  J hurried back to the house to let us know that he had finally made friends with Wellie, who stood there in bliss getting scratched behind his ears.  It was pretty cool to see J so excited and happy about doing chores in 18° weather!  You can tell we left our animals in good hands.

While we were driving home Tuesday, Barbara celebrated her ??th birthday, so Kara cooked a wonderful Moroccan meal Wednesday night, followed by Carrie's delicious homemade grape pie.

♫ Happy Birthday, sweet middle sister! ♪

Kara was too tired out from cooking to protest having her picture taken!

Finally on Thursday it was time to say goodbye.

Misty reveled in playing chase with Herb while Carrie packed the car.

She did a masterful job packing and managed to squeeze everything in . . .

. . . except her brother!  We suggested he should try out his grip before they hit the road.

We weren't quite sure of the best way for him to get home.

And then someone discovered that Carrie had left room for him after all!  J and the hat both fit!

Misty did her best to keep them from leaving . . .

. . . but despite her valiant efforts, they disappeared down the road.

In case you're wondering what I'm going to do with myself now that everyone's gone . . . here are a few of the boxes of photos and papers that I've offered to sort and archive for us girls.  I guess I'll be putting this long, cold winter to good use!

For Love of Romeo

In July 2001, we returned to the States after eleven years in France, leaving behind two wonderful horses, Tsar and Vanille.  Herb promised Kara and me that we could have horses in the States, and we didn't wait long to take him up on that!  I found my Angel in November.  The lady who ran the horse farm where I boarded Angel promised to look for a horse that Kara could use for jumping.

On December 1, 2001, Kara saddled up Just Romeo, a five-year old registered Quarter Horse who had been in the University of Georgia equine program, both English and Western.  Kara was allowed to try Romeo out for a week before deciding to buy him, and it just so happened that a jumping competition was taking place that day at the horse farm.

Kara and Romeo hit it off immediately and began collecting ribbons.

Six ribbons out of seven competitions was not bad for a first ride!  Two weeks later we took Kara back to the horse farm to meet her 13th birthday present.  It wasn't much . . . it was "Just Romeo!"

I was usually riding Angel at the same time Kara was riding Romeo, so I don't have too many photos of them, but I did get some when they did a Ride-a-Test at a local polo venue, Bendabout Farm, in April 2003. 

Although the jumps were low, Romeo performed beautifully as always.  Jumping was his and Kara's real love.

Neither Romeo nor Kara cared much for dressage, which was (unfortunately) what the lady who ran the farm preferred.  She tried her hardest to extend Romeo's trot, which was very comfortable trot, but tended to resemble a Western jog.

Romeo made a reliable trail horse and a fun family horse, too.  For Hallowe'en that year, my daughter-in-law Monique dressed up as "Juliet" and rode her "Romeo" in the farm Hallowe'en parade.

No matter who was riding him, Romeo was, pure and simple, a "love."

In July 2004, we trailered Romeo, Angel and our two dogs all the way out to far West Texas--a long-time dream of Kara's and mine.

My brother- and sister-in-law always generously provided horses for us to ride when we visited, but having our own horses with us made that trip very special.

They both adapted to the rough west Texas country as if they'd been born there . . .

. . . although they both also found a new affinity for every tank and water hole to cool off in.

Romeo was alert to whatever he heard moving through the brush nearby, but as steady as always.

When we decided to move Angel and Romeo from the first farm, the place we found to board did not have a riding ring for jumping.  Along with Kara's changing interests as she grew older and found new friends, this meant that she wasn't riding much any more.  We thought about selling Romeo, but we hated to part with such a good horse.

That was how, in March 2005, Romeo headed out to west Texas to live on a family ranch.  It wasn't so much a "goodbye" as a "see you later."  We did see Romeo several more times when we were out there, and Kara got to enjoy riding him.  But then we all got older and life got in the way, and for seven years we didn't make it to Texas.  

When we finally did, Kara had a poignant reunion with Romeo.  It was clear that we weren't the only ones that had aged.  Romeo wasn't a five-year old youngster any more, but an eighteen-year old senior horse.  He was fine and healthy, but Kara realized that sooner or later he would die on the range and be eaten by buzzards and coyotes, because that's the way things happen out there.  She realized that she wanted him to come Home. 

And that is how, at 2 a.m. on Monday, Sept. 8, Romeo came home.  The commercial hauler had a pretty adventurous time getting his semi-horse trailer down our lower drive and up a hill in the pasture to turn around, but everyone made it safely.  The driver and I walked Romeo up to the barn and got him settled for the night.  (Kara was still in West Texas, having had to delay her flight to allow her to be there to get Romeo loaded.)  The next morning Romeo's new "harem" was waiting as close to his stall as they could get, his old friend Angel (the black mare) eager to greet him.

Romeo isn't the best traveler, although he does much better in an air-ride commercial trailer, so we'll be feeding him up a bit as he settles in and gets used to his new life.  He probably thinks we dragged him from Heaven to Hell, it's been so horribly humid here compared to what he's used to!

On the advice of our equine vet, Dr. White, Romeo will be in quarantine for three weeks until any danger of shipping fever is past.  He's already gotten his immunizations to protect him against Georgia's illnesses.

Meanwhile, Julie, Angel and Brandy are waiting impatiently--for love of Romeo.