I updated the felt gallery.

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Marseille is born!


On Saturday at 10:30 AM, Marseille, our newest baby alpaca was born!

Marseille stands up!

At a whopping 21 lbs, this girl is on the upper end of the healthy range already! It didn’t take her long to stand up (you want them to stand within the first hour), and she was nursing by the end of the day.

Dad dries off Marseille as Mikayla looks on. I bet he's saying "Yes Mikayla, you made a pretty baby"

Mikayla is being a great mamma. She let Mom and Dad take care of Marseille, and helped her find the milk, and was altogether way more patient than Tulip was with Tripoli. Dad and Mom did supplement with goat milk early on, because it took her most of the day to figure the whole suckling thing out.

Dad gives baby Marseille goat milk so she stays strong.

Mom and Dad spent the evening sitting in camp chairs in the barn, instead of at a wine tasting, making sure she was alright. I suspect they were happy as clams. After a night in the barn, which is safer for little tykes than even our well-fenced paddock, it was time to meet the rest of the herd!

Marseille ventures out as Morocco and Tuscany look on.

She has panda eyes. And look at those ridiculous legs! So silly! But she can use them!

Marseille and Trip play chase.

Trip is happy to have a young friend. Too happy, as it turns out. He had to be locked alone in the paddock for a while, because he was rough housing! Silly Tripoli, this baby is too new for wrastling!

What's out there?

So. Cute. Tulip could care less about the newest member of the herd, but Auntie Brittany is being curious as usual. The babies don’t seem to mind her chewing on their ears.

Brittany checks on new baby Marseille, by chewing on her ear.

Stay tuned for more updates!

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Toads!


They exist! Mom and Dad swore to me they had a trio of toads that staked out the patio in front of the barn, but I haven’t seen them. Until now!

Look! Toads. They look like warty pancakes.

Well. I’ll be buggered. Or not, since the toads are hanging out, eating bugs! The internet says they are Great Plains toads, Bufo cognatus. Sounds like ‘thinking diver’ to me, but my Latin is entirely made up. This site says they are worth $25 per toad to farmers in Oklahoma, because they eat pests!

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Preparing for Cimmaron Sky Dog Artists Show


The fiber artists at Cliff House Alpacas have knitted/crocheted/felted/spun ourselves into carpal tunnel preparing for our next show. We’ve been invited to bring our wares to a private silent auction and craft sale to benefit the wild horses at Cimarron Sky Dog Reserve.

Dune and Blue play on the range.

As an ecologist, what I like most about Jackie Fleming’s approach to horse rescue is her whole ecosystem understanding. The Forest Service and BLM take wild horses off the range because they have exceeded the carrying capacity of such a dry, resource poor environment. The horses are destroying the ecosystem and starving in the process, and there is no easy answer for what to do with them.

From the range they go into holding pens, sometimes for years. Jackie adopts them, and keeps them on her 50 acres during the winter. During the summer, they are free to range over the 420 acres of land she has painstakingly acquired for them. To prevent them from overgrazing, she runs less than 30 horses on that land, and never in drought conditions. Jackie is preserving more than their freedom, she’s also protecting the open spaces from development.

Aunt Geri made this cute neck warmer last year, but it sold already! Can't wait to see what else she's been up to.

Together, our fiber artists (aka family members) have created at least 75 items for the sale. Mom started loom knitting less than a year ago, and many of our products are her creations, some made with yarn from our friends’ alpacas, and a few made with my handspun. Aunt Geri has taken up wet felting; she also knits (with needles) the most beautiful patterned and warm scarves, most from sustainable yarn producers and all luxurious. Even Grammy, who just started knitting a month ago, wants to contribute a scarf or two!

One of Mom's lacy, loom knit scarves.

For my part, I have lost track of how many yards of yarn I’ve spun. When I go to bed at night, my right foot feels like it is still treadling (my wheel only has one treadle). We skirted and sorted and carded like mad people, and from that carefully processed fiber I’ve made all sorts of yarn: hair fine Brittany/bamboo silk “Purple Rain“, strong and structured glitzy Brittany “Dark Heart“, Brittany plied with Mikayla….and more I can’t remember. I’ve also crocheted two shawls.

One single Brittany and one Mikayla, plied to make a medium weight yarn.

We only have room for so many people at the host’s house, so I couldn’t invite everyone! But whatever inventory we have left, I’ll be sure to post pictures.

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Flying lessons for the baby kingbirds


Mom and Dad were met with quite a cacophony when they entered the barn on Monday morning. It seems the time has come for the baby kingbirds to learn to fly. We knew it was coming, their nest was starting to look a little like the bird version of a clown car.

Taken in Kansas by Wikimedia user "Mdf", this is a great shot.

Norma and Norman escorted the nestlings around the property, showing them the best fence posts for perching on, and encouraging them when they got stuck in awkward places (on top of the hay bales, on top of the lower barn, etc.), all while carrying on loudly at the top of their lungs.

The Cornell Lab of Ornithology describes their song as “…a series of “kip” notes followed by series of high-pitched fussy chittering notes…”, which pretty well captures what’s been going on. Especialy the “fussing”. We’re pretty sure our breeding pair has been with us before. They either laid their eggs in the barn siding last year, or they were some of those eggs.

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Wet felting + Me = Fail


I’m not trying to toot my own horn here, but sometimes people say things to me like, “Wow, you are a natural at X” or “I can’t believe you’ve only done Y for such a short time”.  And I am amazing (ack, choking on my own ego here). But to be completely honest…my perceived skill might have more to do with good marketing and less to do with actual ability. Case in point: my wet felting adventures. 

That is the most adorablest baby bootie you have ever seen, admit it. It is felt, but I used dry felting techniques.

Wet felting is an ancient process, used for millenia to convert animal fiber into fabric. Water and detergent are applied to layers of hair and agitated to create friction. Microscopic scales on the hair catch on each other, and you end up with a flat matt of fabric. Yurts are made from thick yak felt. Dry felting, which uses barbed needles to accomplish the same matting of fiber but takes much longer, I have figured out. Look at that adorable baby bootie up there. Savor it for a minute. Ok, keep reading now.

It's a shoulder bag, can't you tell?

I just can’t figure this stupid wet felting thing out! The “shoulder bag” above is not even my first disastrous attempt. The fiber just comes apart in my hands, or matts in all the wrong places. *headdesk*

I’d like to wrap this up with something uplifting like, “If at first you don’t succeed etc etc” but, well, let’s keep the honesty rolling. I never did figure out how to wet felt, and my Aunt Geri took over those projects (her table runners apparently have herds of horses running across them) with my blessing.  My advice on projects you just can’t get, after multiple attempts, is this: If at first (and second, and third) you don’t succeed, put the failed project in a plastic sack in the back of your closet and find someone who can do it for you.

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How-to: Choose your first spinning wheel


Choosing my first spinning wheel was more difficult than buying my first car. I know that sounds silly, but by the time I bought a car, I’d been driving for 6 years. I’d only been spinning for 6 months when I began to look for a wheel. So here are some tips, things I wish I’d known at the start.

Leondardo Da Vinci, who is credited with inventing approximately everything, is said to have drawn plans for one of the first fliers. The flier is the u-shaped bit of wood with metal hooks that winds the yarn on automatically. Before those, you had to stop and use your hands to do it.

Continue reading

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Babies, babies, everywhere, but not one for Mikayla


No baby for Mikayla yet, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t babies in the barn!

Mama (or Dadda, no way to tell) barn swallow sweeps in to feed one of five open mouths.

We didn’t really want birds IN the barn, because, well, Boogie gets pooped on. But barn swallows are bug eaters! And bugs are awful. So we unplugged that particular light and accepted that the menagerie now included them. The babies are fairly quiet, but Mama and Dadda barn swallow have very loud, passionate arguments. The opposite seems to be true for the western kingbirds.

These babies are three weeks older than the barn swallows, and much louder. Here, mama gives them a dirty look.

Norman and Norma (so named because Nuisance Norman is so comfortably alliterative) tried to build their nest in the garage, but Mom shooed them out. They had this one in the barn built before anyone noticed, but they are also bug eaters, so we can’t really complain. In fact, they are quite sure we put the fences up for them to perch on, to make hunting flies easier.

Their babies are vociferous! They also look about ready to leave the nest.

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TripIsStillAdorable.com


It’s amazing how often I feel like starting a post with “OMG Trip is adorable!”  Over the weekend, I got to weigh him (Trip gets weighed weekly, this week he gained 3 lbs). It involved just a little bit of frantic scrabbling to catch him. I ended up standing in front of him and just letting him crash into my arms at full speed. Then I had an armful of soft, cuddly alpaca baby.

Trip and I on the scale. He weighs 30 lbs. My weight shall remain unrecorded.

He calmed right down, once I had him. Although he did make his little siren call of distress AFTER I put him back in the corral. I suspect it’s because Tulip, his mom, went back to grazing in turnout without evening thinking twice while we carried of her baby! How dare the world not revolve around him.

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Got that “Pioneer Woman” feeling


On Friday morning, Mom and Dad woke to a ranch with no water. They thought that perhaps lightning from the recent severe thunderstorms had struck the house and knocked out the pump. I was on the phone with Mom on Thursday evening, and I heard the thunder!

We couldn’t get anyone to come out until 11 AM on Friday morning, so Dad ran to the store for water to hold them over until we found out what the problem was. Which got me to thinking about what it must have been like to homestead on the plains, before running to Safeway for bottled water was an option. You know, back in these times: http://www.flickr.com/photos/douglascountyhistory/2711032205/

I know that wells were generally pumped by hand back in the day, so people had water. But looking at those astoundingly barren pictures reminded me, just for a second, how tenuous our life out on the plains is.

It turns out, it was just a “relay” which apparently is easy to fix, so we were back in business by noon. So long as the well never runs dry, which is a phrase I never really connected with until now. How easy it is, to get disconnected from the source of our basic necessities.

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