Here are photos of this week’s new arrivals at Barb and Steve’s farm.
Watch for updates at their blog, Out To Pasture.
This is what Barb says about them:
We are enjoying the two immensely. They are scared. But the bravest one (Lassi) i’m afraid is pretty dumb also (just kidding). Got her head stuck in a narrow part of the fence panel and yelled like bloody murder when I was trying to get it back out. So tonight I’ll be afraid to sleep and will run out every two minutes to check to see what mischief she’s gotten herself into. Kona is more shy and more sensible. Dream and Alba are not sure yet. We will keep the kiddos separate from the Big Girls for a couple weeks.
I don’t know about goats, but that seems like a smart choice to keep the newbies and the old hands apart for a while here at the beginning.
When you are in a brand new place and nothing is familiar, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed and a bit dumb, especially if one of your first moves is to get your head stuck in a fence. If you’re lucky, your hosts will be patient about helping you extricate yourself. They’ll even go out of their way to check on you. This is not always the case when you’re a rookie. Those who are already established are required by nature to size you up and to assess your worthiness. Sometimes the newcomer can begin to feel like an imposter.
When I was 12 my family moved from a lovely little spot in the Hudson River Valley just north of New York City to the edge of an agricultural city in central Illinois. I went to school in a small town ten miles outside the city limits – not far but the distance was great enough to reach a whole new level of reality concerning New York and Out East.
Never mind that I had only been to New York City a handful of times. I was instantly popular, and there was a space of about three days where, if I had known what was happening, I could have become the undisputed ruler of my middle school.
My advantage (and curse) had a lot to do with the sounds and sights of NYC that had filtered through film, TV and radio to that small town. Everybody knew that New York City was The Big Apple, populated by ruthless tough guys and wealthy big shots. Business there was conducted under a different standard that virtually required a certain amount of despicable big city behavior. Anybody from New York City was bound to have secret ways of getting what he wanted. It might involve cement overshoes and a body tossed in the river. So be it. People were interested to see what I would do to assert my authority in a place where the nearest river was only 2 feet deep. Dropped into that new environment, I was a dangerous mystery – unpredictable and scary cool.
Given a different personality and a new set of goals, I could have been the Vito Corleone of Macon, Illinois. Instead, I got my head stuck in the fence, and it didn’t take long for people to realize I was the opposite of what they expected. It was a huge personal relief for me when they finally figured it out, though for the kids who wanted to be hit men and gun molls instead of farmers, the disappointment lingered for several years.
Have you ever been the “new” person? How did you adapt?
Trail Baboon 
How great that the little girls have arrived. Many of us have been waiting for this. That was a great write-up, Barb, and the photos help us picture the little ones.
I’m going to have to depart from Dale’s question a bit, but you will probably forgive me. I think the story fits the general idea.
My daughter Molly brought home her first child, Liam, in February. She and John were a little concerned about how their dog, Chloe, would accept the newcomer. Chloe, a slender black Labrador, is submissive and sensitive, hardly the kind of dog likely to become aggressive. But babies can freak out dogs, so they wanted to be careful.
In the first week at home things went well. Liam is the sweetest, happiest baby boy anyone has seen. You can see Liam on my pBase gallery, the one you get by clicking my name. There is a gallery for Liam. The photo lower right on the first page is good for showing his personality.
Liam never cries unless he is hungry and food doesn’t come. But that is what happened one morning. Liam was hungry and Molly couldn’t find a comfortable position to feed him. Liam’s volume went up. Chloe was on the bed next to them, watching this with wide eyes and an expression of concern. Liam cried more.
Chloe dove off the bed and ran to the kitchen, where she scarfed up her entire bowl full of dog food (kibble kind). She ran back to the bedroom to the foot of the bed and barfed up the whole thing, then looked at Liam. Please note that this is not a habit or usual thing with Chloe. In the clearest way she knew, Chloe was saying, “You’re hungry kid? Here! Have mine!”
Have a wonderful weekend, Babooners. I’ll be meeting some of you Sunday at Minnehaha.
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oh, not off topic at all Steve! really, absolutely ON! and what a sweet story. thanks!
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great story. how did liam like it?
i am sorry to miss the forst meeting but i will be there when step 2 comes about i’ll bet
my thought comes from the move to the new jr high school in 7th grade. i was straight out of catholic school and ready for a new experience. my sibs had been excused from the nazi based nunnery the year before when an idiot nun flunked my sister without informaing my parents there was any sort of issue. i told them i’d do my last year at the big house and then move to public school in 7th grade. well the deal was complete, the new school was a late 60’s experiment in the grandest term. modular scheduling was the concept and it entailed giveng youth enough rope to hang themselves with. 35% of the time was scheduled class time and 65% was alloted for independant study to further yourself in areas that were of the greatest interest. let me tell you … a 12 year old from the ball and chain world of the catholic school was released into the kid in a candy store world of the public school system. i don’t believe there was one other kid from the old school. i hung with some neighborhood kids but basically got to start form scratch. gosh i had a great time. i made friends who are still friends today. i got to reinvent myself with the freedom to be whoever i wanted. i had free reign and i made the most of it. i learned a bunch about how to get the important things done in order to get your butt covered and how to find a way to get the things that were important to you done in a fashion that made you happy. i was too new to know that the consequences for failing would be costly so i snaked my way through the maze of social nuances and made the rules up as i went. it served me well at least in a way that blazed the trail for the same m/o today. the teachers i meet today form that time are still shaking their heads at that experiment and laughing at the way the kids were given the keys to the castle and how the rules need to be redefined as we showed them what would happen if you let everyone have what they want. there were some that fell through the cracks but i felt i was given the opportunity to discover the answers to lifes true secrets. kind of a dance as if no one was looking perspective. even if someone is looking, if you re being sincere and true to yourself they will cut you a little slack rather than handcuff you.
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Tim-yet another example of how different kids do well with different styles.
Steve-indeed on the college thing and that being a good opportunity. Still remember sitting in a dorm with a bunch of friends drinking beer when someone let slip they were a PK (preacher’s kid). More than half the heads in the room turned and said, “you too?” Good old Luther College, where PKs can just be people.
Barb, I think the question is, what is she getting out of the experience-whatever it is must have a stronger pull than the indignity being endured.
Sherillee-may or may not make BBC tomorrow-all depends on how I charge through the workload today-I may be bringing my sewing if I can come, hope that does not offend. Will be bringing knitting if I am done enough with the sewing.
Off to the salt mines.
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What a cool story, tim – makes me wish I’d had experienced modular scheduling! I remember my dad talking about it, as he was director of guidance, but I never understood this aspect of what it entailed.
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So do you think Chloe has the ability to barf at will, or does she somehow know if she eats her food as fast as possible, it will come back up?
Or was Molly looking the other way when Chloe stuck a furry paw down her own throat as far as it would go?
Of course, in any of these three scenarios she is still a remarkable dog!
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Barf at will is the right answer, I think. A few nights later she did a repeat of this sharing thing.
Dale, this is the way wolves get their pups through the transition from milk to solid food. The pack scatters and hunts, leaving the kiddies at home. When the adults make a kill, they eat it and then return to the den site. They can then disgorge some of what they have eaten. For the wolf pups, this is food that has been chopped up and softened for them. Obviously, the canine family is better at barfing than we humans are.
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Dogs to seem to have a unique sensibility about protecting their pups – human or otherwise. The basset we had when Darling Daughter first arrived sniffed her head, made sure she smelled enough like me to pass muster, and then decided the dog’s job was to protect the new (oddly shaped) puppy – often by sitting in the doorway facing out (all the better to see danger with her old, mostly blind, eyes) when I could nurse in the baby’s room…
Great story Steve!
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“like!”
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Rise and Shine Babooners:
This question brings up a very difficult time in my family’s life. I just don’t want go there except to say that it occurred when I was a second grader and it wasn’t a great experience. I threw up everyday before school for a long time. Like Steve’s dog.
I will finish painting the living room today and see the gang in real life tomorrow. I have thirty pages left to finish today.
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A lot for the brain to be busy with on this one.
All your talk of hit men reminds me of yet another kid’s book to recommend: Al Capone Does My Shirts. It is about a group of kids who are growing up on Alcatraz during the Depression, because that is where their dad’s work. The story is narrated by the “new kid” on the Island.
Cats (or at least my cat at the time) are not as understanding of new babies as are the lovely dog you describe, Steve. Newborn crying made my poor cat go crazy. She would attack the holder of said baby, as if to say “do something, would you?” One they got past the newborn sound, she could ignore it.
I’ve had some experience as a new kid-my family moved in November when I was in first grade and in October when I was in seventh. That was just how things worked out, and I don’t think the idea of moving me during the school year was really on the list of things to think about. Oddly enough, I remember going to both new schools on the first day vividly, but have no memory of the trip across Iowa (in both cases) to get there.
I don’t recommend putting anyone in the new kid spot in junior high. I don’t recommend junior high in general, and we are on the verge of staring it in the face. Ach, ach, ach.
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just in from milking. the newbies are doing well. they are more appropriately noisy (i take that as not as scared), are eating well (like porkers), and are playing and sparring on the different levels i’ve put in their pen. took them out with Dream and Alba yesterday but the Big Girls took that opportunity to whale on the littles so i’ll wait awhile before i put them together until Kona and Lassi get more confident (and know where to hide from Dream, who likes to bite ears).
this makes me wish that, when anyone begins a new job or moves or begins anything new, they would have an adjustment period where no one could whale on them until they could figure out the hiding places. getting your ears bitten on the first day of the job is pretty tough.
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Story of my life! I didn’t spent an entire school year in the same school until 5th grade. My dad graduated law school when I was three. Then he did a few other jobs until he landed a job w/ the Missouri Highway Department. This, coupled with my parents’ remodeling wanderlust, meant we moved around ALOT when I was little. We even moved in the middle of my 9th grade year to a new district altogether (I can talk about it now, but it was really traumatic at the time). Looking back, I see that it made me the person I am now. I am very flexible and find it easy to try new things and am very comfortable when meeting new people.
However, I do think part of the reason I am so stuck in my house (been here almost 20 years and not going anywhere soon if I can help it) may be a backlash from moving so much as a kid! And I don’t like wallpaper much either!
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Madislandgirl…. glad you’re on. Yes, I’ll bring some goat pins tomorrow!
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Greetings! I don’t remember specific instances when I was the new one in town — just when I moved to Minneapolis to attend college. I remember my parents made the 6-hr drive with me from Green Bay, WI, dropped off all my stuff in the dorm room and they turned around and drove home (probably very hard for them). I felt like a kid in the candy store. My room mate wasn’t there yet, so I chose the bed by the window, set up closets, drawers and stuff, surveyed the results and called it good.
So I decided to take a walk and find a restaurant. Ambled across the Washington Ave bridge on the U of MN campus to the lively West Bank. Found Dudley Riggs and had a wonderful meal by myself and generally looked around at all the fun shops in the West Bank area. I was bold, had a fun expedition and had no qualms being alone. I doubt I would do any of that now …
OT – Steve – love that story. That’s so adorable.
Barb – glad to see the new kids
Blevins Book Club – sorry I won’t be there, I have to work this weekend. I read the book and enjoyed it, although I did get lost in some of the details and which sheep was which. I’ll look for the online version of meeting. Off to work I go!
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Good story, Joanne. Sorry you won’t make it to the book club (I’ve heard you look just like the Venus on the Half Shell).
Starting college is the most dramatic moment in the lives of many of us because some kids use that moment to redefine who they are. My college roommate was a nobody in his (large) high school, but when he began his freshman year he quickly established himself as a funny guy. It was a conscious decision to carve out a new identity.
Ralph had a sad story to tell about a girl in his class, though. On her first day of college, she ran into another kid who had been with them in high school. She burst into tears and withdrew from college within the hour. She had “developed” early in high school and ultimately became the class tramp. She didn’t want to attend college with even one kid knowing her past, so she transferred to another college where she could start with a clean slate.
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When I arrived at the dorm at Iowa State University in 1973, knowing one person before I arrived, the first person I met on my floor was my third cousin. Neither of us knew the other existed prior to that day. My mom and her dad are first cousins. In Central Iowa, I am never the new kid.
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Morning everyone…
As always it’s fun to read of others life stories. It truly is fascinating.
I feel so sheltered; I’ve never moved– heck, my folks built this house when I was 4 years old and after getting married and taking over the farm I simply ‘moved’ from the downstairs bedroom to the upstairs bedroom!
I have had several part time jobs and it’s the theater world that gives me the new experiences and the opportunity to be the New Person. My favorite story of being the FNG was after my first day at a well known professional theater and my mentor for the day told the boss that I did OK and then said to me, “Thanks for not being a complete Dumb-A**”. YES! I took that as a compliment and lived on that quote for a week.
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just an observation: a goat, when it encounters something unpleasant (like a head stuck in the fence), will always push forward – this is the reason that electric fences don’t work so well with them. instead of backing off, they’ll just run thru the fence when shocked. so when a rescuer is trying to push the animal back in order to extricate the head from said fence, the goat pushes forward at all costs. i’m beginning to wonder if Lassi is the blond of the family (to use an overused stereotype).
times Kona head stuck in fence: zero. times any other goat on our farm has EVER had head stuck in fence (even Niblet): zero. times Lassi head stuck in fence: FOUR.
so Dale – one time is forgiveable. two times, well she’s just exploring. four times, one begins to wonder.
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Perhaps she’s part basset hound and just incurably curious (and perhaps a bit forgetful)?
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My only moves were changes in schools: 7th grade and college. Where Tim found freedom to create and develop himself and have a blast in 7th grade, I was filled with angst. I attended a new junior high and didn’t know anybody. I clung to another girl from my homeroom and we became friends for awhile. I was a shy, skinny nearsighted bookworm. I admire Tim and Sherilee for their positive attitude and flexibility. I tend to become anxious, which makes it difficult to relax and enjoy new experiences. I wish it wasn’t that way. Is knowing myself enough to conquer it? Jacque? Renee? Help me out here.
Barbara from Robbinsdale, thanks for your post yesterday. If you decide to come to Rock Bend, you will enjoy yourself! I’m assigned to what we lovingly refer to as “Joyce’s North Grove Stage” or North Grove Stage. I’m hostess and emcee. That’s the best place to find me.
I checked out the Rock Bend.org website yesterday and noticed that it isn’t completely updated but if you click on “Saturday Music” or “Sunday Music” the musicians and bands are correct. If anyone would like information about Rock Bend please feel free to e-mail me at willi6931@hotmail.com.
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As a shy, formerly skinny, nearsighted bookworm, I think that imagining the good things that could occur with new experiences (instead of the the bad things) can go a long way to reducing anxiety.
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Thanks! I try. I forgot to use “formerly” in my skinny self-description too. 🙂
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I went to college at age 16. My non-sentimental parents paid for a plane ticket to Boston,but wouldn’t have dreamed of accompanying me and my 2 suitcases. Everyone else arrived under parental supervision and I felt vaguely orphaned. I felt worse when I realized that my dorm mates were slow to warm to me.
IT took a month for me to learn that they all thought I was too cool for them. They assumed that I had told my parents to get lost. They wished they’d been brave enuff to get rid of their parents. This was the only time I was ever mistaken as cool and I wasn’t able to keep it up. I mostly kee p going thru the fence-maybe I am part goat!
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The Living Room is DONE! What a chore. AND, the first ripe tomato presented itself this a.m. (Early Girl) and another (Mortgage Lifter) should be ready in a day or two.
Life is good.
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Congratulations! (on tomatoes and the painting)
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Thank you very much.
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congrats on both! my good friend is an IA Stater – she lived in Alburnett. pretend we are playing the “Beautiful Iowa Waltz” for you right now as a reward.
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There’s a tomato called “Mortgage Lifter”?
A fruit so fine a fortune flowers?
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Indeed there is. The story I have heard about it involves a guy so successfully selling the plants that he used the proceeds to pay off his mortgage.
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When I started my new job a year ago, I was once again the New Kid. It took awhile to learn who was who, what was okay to do, who to ask which sorts of questions, and, perhaps most importantly, how to find your car at the end of the day (in the huge parking ramp). It helped a lot to have a couple of friends who had been there awhile and knew the ropes – and perhaps that’s they key to keep the Older Kids from nibbling on your ears, if you don’t already have a friend who is an Older Kid, make friends with one who will show you the ropes (and how not to get your head stuck in a fence). This same theory worked in college when I knew one of the sophomores who lived on my dorm floor (a bassoon player who I had a crush on in college), and at a number of theaters (where knowing the director or other designers from prior shows helps a lot).
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I don’t know where to put this, but Clyde offered some stories about animals yesterday. They are great, and I hope most of you contacted him for an email copy.
Meanwhile, I’m going to make a wild rice/chicken/pea pod salad for the book club. I’ve got paper bowls and plastic forks. See some of you soon at Minnehaha.
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Thank you for the compliment, Steve. Sounds as if, except for the flies, it was a nice meeting.
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I was the new kid plenty of times – went to 4 grade schools, 2 junior highs, but then we settled. I remember another new girl talking about nothing else than where she came from, and noticed that other people got tired of that, so I sort of trained myself not to do that, and was usually accepted into SOME group, anyway, till I found my best friend… Like Sherilee, I think it’s made me unafraid to pack up and move, and try new stuff. In fact, I overdo it – seem to want new experiences all the time. So if we can’t move to a new location, I (we) rearrange the furniture!
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I moved like 11 times in elementary school. You’d think that would mean I’d learn to make friends. I did learn to love books.
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