Black and white…or white and black.
Where are they?
OH, there…
Now what?
I’ve seen hunting dogs do this…pick up their leg and point!
Hmmm…that didn’t work.
Poof! He’s gone~!
OK, I’ll move on to something a little larger.
Until tomorrow ~ with Zip on watch ~ God willing,
Woodswoman
In the world of dog mushing, there are different phrases.
The one which holds the highest regard is an Honest Dog.
An Honest Dog is one who gives his all.
Not just now and then.
But every moment he is hooked up to the sled.
Our new dog Malakai, is new to mushing.
Not really…as deep in his heart, he knows this.
He instinctively understands.
As with all new dogs, we place him nearest the sled, in the wheel position, so he can be watched and easily hear his master’s calming voice.
He not only pulls, but he pulls from deep within his ancestor’s gene pool.
The sign of an Honest Dog is one whose tug is always tight.
Ranger, our leader, is an Honest Dog.
Shiloh, our other new addition to the kennel, is pursuing an Honest Dog title.
Malakai excels at a tight tug.
It stirs an emotion within me to see a dog find himself.
Tears meet the cold air.
To be happy, and content.
To wonder what is next…what adventure awaits.
To dream…
Until tomorrow ~ May all your dogs be Honest Dogs ~ God willing,
Woodswoman
Silent night…
Holy night…
All is calm…
All is bright…
Merry Christmas from Russ-Stick Acres…
Christ, the savior, is born…
Until tomorrow ~ God (the maker of all things) willing,
Woodswoman
You can also portage the Internet and see our journey here.
I’m so glad you took the time to head down our trail.
We welcome you.
After 223 Blog posts, in a little over a year’s time, we want to provide even more access to our way of life.
So, in an effort to provide even more “tales from the trails” from Russ-Stick Acres, we have opted to do two Blogs.
This venue will always remain the same ~ my picture journal of events, people and animals that touch my heart.
This new opportunity ~ which is in the infancy stage ~ will be providing a more “wordy” account of our daily life. More stories, more detail, more “real”.
I’m still tweaking it…but I began today. Up until now, I was just using this new Blog as a trail leading here.
However, there are some nice features. Consider it “one stop shopping”. You can see some of my favorite Blogs from like-minded farm and mushing folk.
Come along…and click on as a follower. It’s easy, and fun.
Trust me ~ I will always be here. In pictures and in words.
And the two will lead to each other. Parallel trails…
I hope you will come along.
Here it is…our second Blog.
Until tomorrow ~ God willing,
Woodswoman
To me, Christmas time is also a time to reflect on the blessings you have experienced through the year.
Even more so than Thanksgiving.
We have many blessings. Health, family, friends, and animals.
Animals that gravitate to our farm and kennel.
Comanchero was one of those creatures heading our way.
However, after a summer providing horse back rides at his original stable, he had made a place in the herd and we hated to move him again.
Comanchero will remain at Hobby Horse Riding Stable with the other Mustangs.
One road over.
And we will remain a 3-horse farm.
Our trio.
Our trilogy of beauty, brains and brawn.
Tomorrow we are getting two new heifers. Dexter and a Dexter cross.
One is 16-months old, the other is 12-months old.
It will be nice to grow our herd.
It seems like just yesterday our little Luna was born.
A new spring baby is planned for 2010, compliments of Dixie and Dudley.
Shiloh, our latest addition, has settled right in.
He gives a new meaning to the phrase, Tree Hugger.
Shiloh took Union’s spot in the kennel, so she is now a full-time house dog.
We attempted a retirement last year with Union, however she made it clear she preferred the dog yard.
This year, she’s opting for the radiant cherry wood heat of the woodstove.
Of course, when we run teams, she now dons a dog jacket and joins in as a leader.
Our new little boar we ordered isn’t coming until late April. We would need to pick him up in late December, so we went to Plan B.
We will be getting a full grown boar over the holiday break and picking up our new little one once the snow goes, from a future litter.
We enjoy the ebb and flow of farm life.
We hope you enjoy our stories throughout the year.
And may all your trails be blessed.
Merry Christmas folks ~
Until tomorrow ~ God willing,
Woodswoman
Today, a transformation took place at LCK.
Shiloh, a package of beauty and brains, began a new life at our kennel.
Our kennel has been stagnant for a while.
I liked the fact that nothing had changed for the last year.
The dogs felt cohesive and secure ~ knowing they were a family that wasn’t being altered in any way.
However, Rustic Russ felt we needed more young blood. To add to the old.
Shiloh is joining our 16 sled dogs in becoming a member of a team.
Just short of two years old, Shiloh had never been around a dog sled before.
However, after one short introduction, he kept a tight tug.
You would think he had been pulling forever.
He’s a natural.
It had to be difficult for Ryan and Nicole to turn over their boy.
However, knowing he would be doing what he was bred to do, has to be a comfort as they move out of the area.
They trained him well. You can tell he has been well-loved and treated gently.
Rustic Russ took Shiloh around the dog yard when he first arrived, meeting each dog one-on-one.
No aggression, no complaints. From either side.
Later in the day, Shiloh was hooked into a small team. Rustic Russ watched him glide through the snowy wooded trail, curious about his surroundings, but instantly becoming a team member and perhaps drawing on some distant knowledge of past kin.
While preparing our spaghetti dinner tonight in the cabin, I would peek out to see Shiloh’s actions in the dog yard as Rustic Russ was doing all the farm chores.
He was quiet, yet curious.
He looked proud, laying down, but head erect and alert.
He was fascinated with the chickadees swooping down to pick up bits of fat from the venison chopping block.
He didn’t appear alarmed when our goat, Rachael, trotted by on a snowy path.
His wagging tail and playful puppy moves charmed his neighbor, Libby.
At feeding time, he had a quizzical look on his face when given meat with his kibble. We later saw him burying it in the snow, by his dog house.
He’s a well fed dog who is planning for the future.
It always amazes me how a dog can come to our kennel and instantly fit in.
It’s as if there is a code of conduct given, instinctively, to the new member of the pack.
No whining, no barking, no unnecessary fussing. These are things that we don’t have to train. Somehow, dogs entering our kennel know the code of conduct.
The rules.
As we were finishing up our dinner, we heard a 16-dog howl ~ a welcome howl of sorts ~ for Shiloh no doubt.
It was too dark to see if he joined in.
However, I put down my garlic bread and closed my eyes for a brief moment to fully take in the melodic tone of the collective howl, and imagine the pride and excitement Shiloh must have felt to know he was truly home.
Home among his peers, his pack, and knowing he has an adventure ahead of him that will last a lifetime.
Welcome Shiloh…and thank you Ryan and Nicole. We will take good care of your boy. As a matter of fact, he’s in our cabin tonight, until we make sure he will be thick coated enough to enjoy the starry nights.
Until tomorrow ~ God willing,
Woodswoman
As the week rolled into the weekend, it was apparent winter was well on its way to the 45th Parallel.
By Friday morning, life at Russ-Stick Acres was taking on a different look.
Our driveway, as we know it, is now defunct.
Impassable.
Even with the assistance of our tractor.
We don’t have a short drive…we have a journey.
That Friday night, at the start of the weekend, I was picked up on my return home from work by several friends ~ Ranger, Astro, Solo, Charlie, Jeff and Rustic Russ.
Dog team. And driver.
I had stopped at the store earlier in the day and loaded up on some staples.
Upon parking at the end of the drive by the road, we transferred all the groceries, my camera, and essentials into the sled bag to haul to the cabin. We did this in the dark, bitter cold, blowing snow.
I then stood on the runners, shared by Rustic Russ, and experienced a frosty, cold drive through drifts back to the warmth of the woodstove in our main cabin ~ Rustic Russ, sometimes running along the sled, assisting the dogs through deep drifts.
It was good to be home.
A roast from our own steer, braised to perfection, was poised for consumption. The aroma filled the air like Yorkshire pudding.
Warm, safe and sound.
The dogs were more than happy to oblidge. They love to feel like a part of our working farm.
Home via dog sled.
The most reliable transportation on earth.
Until tomorrow ~ God willing,
Woodswoman
There’s times in your life when things feel pretty bleak.
You feel like you just can’t take one more step.
You feel like there is no way out.
Your life feels like a whirling dervish ~ spinning out of control.
Why not look up…
Know that no matter how dark your darkest hour gets, there is always light shining on you.
For He will reach out to you and cup your hand in his.
He is there, day or night.
He will hear a whisper, a thought, a tearful plea.
Like any father, He only wants what is best for you.
And He will do anything within His power to make your pain go away.
Trust in Him.
And His power.
He is all powerful and can do all things.
Know this and believe…
And believe in a better day.
It will come.
Like the full moon, which comes on a cycle, so shall your happiness.
Ask for it.
Wait for it.
Embrace it.
God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.
Psalm 46:1
Until tomorrow ~ my Father by my side ~ God willing,
Woodswoman
…on a snowy evening, with Mr. Robert Frost ~ 1923
American farmer/philosopher/poet
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Until tomorrow ~ may all your travels be snowy ~ God willing,
Woodswoman
You must teach the children that the ground beneath their feet is the ashes of your grandfathers. So that they will respect the land, tell your children that the earth is rich with the lives of our kin. Teach your children what we have taught our children, that the earth is our mother. Whatever befalls the earth, befalls the sons of the earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves.
Chief Seattle ~ 1786 – 1866
Until tomorrow ~ lovin’ my nephew Lance and niece Landon, who love the land ~ God willing,
Woodswoman
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