August 29, 2010

Being Barry White

Being Barry White comes with certain privileges. One can be as prickly as one feels on any given day. Curfew is nonexistent. People do not expect you to come home at any particular time or even day. In fact, a hedgehog can go missing for days without the slightest fear of censure or repercussions, merely exaltation at his homecoming.

Barry White is an albino African Pygmy Hedgehog. He has an attitude, a baritone singing voice, and a penchant for large winged insects. Like all new parents, it has taken us a few months to appreciate the depth of Barry's rich personality. We've taken our time getting to know one another and Barry White is slowly but surely finding his own literary voice. He has offered up a few blog submissions but as of yet the Editor-In-Chief of All Animal Blogs Raccoon has not accepted his contributions.

"Too wordy, "
"Not enough character development," 
"Unbelievable story line."

Ringo sends each creative tidbit back hoping to forever squash the Hedgehog's aspirations of becoming published. With each rejection Barry White's resolve has strengthened; his literary voice has grown. With a vocabulary that extends beyond his three months of life and a rich heritage of culture and intercontinental danger to draw from, Barry continues to tap out tales with his ten tiny Hedgie fingers.

 Whilst other season-old Hedgehogs snuffle around in search of a stray grub or insect, or stretch their fragile legs on special Hedgehog supporting exercise wheels, Barry White is driven to pen the plight of Hedgehogs everywhere. He is mature beyond his months and oft gruff. Not satisfied to spend his days sleeping and his nights on the prowl, he tackles life with a vengeance seen in only the most talented and driven individuals. In the halls of his new home, Barry White already commands respect and admiration from his peers. They call him poet. They whisper that he is the voice of his generation. All but one that is. The Raccoon watches him shuffle by with a barely concealed glare. Barry White feels the heat of the Raccoon's gaze on his back but it does not penetrate his spiny exterior. Inside his white pin cushion of skin- he is safe, at least for now.

August 27, 2010


Change happens. It is inevitable. No more than a mere man could stop the tides or control the seasons- he could as likely interfere with the process of change.  Around each of us, the world is constantly evolving and emoting. And I suppose people do the same.

There are those who would argue that all evolution is for the greater good, but I would disagree. Certainly there have been biological faux pas along the way. After all, what was the duckbill platypus all about? I wonder if the changes which surround us in our own lives can sometimes be mis-steps as well. 

Lately I feel sort of like a duckbill myself. I started off somewhere and someone much different than I am now.  Does that mean that I was left behind by evolution- archaic and misunderstood? Or have I possibly evolved ahead of my environment and am waiting for  the world to catch up with me? Either way, it is hard to be out of step.

August 26, 2010

And so are the days of our lives...

I won't bore you with the grisly details of where I've been or what I've been doing during my unplanned Summer hiatus. In fact, your imagination would probably prove far more interesting than my accounting of July and most of August. Instead, let me resume blogging by telling you some things which haven't changed since we were last together.

The days at the farm march on in the way that long Summer days tend to do. The grass has finally stopped growing- but the weeds seem to still wage war on fence rows, flower beds, and the parking lot. Mowing chores suddenly went from 4 days each week to not even two days these past two weeks. In the way that time creeps up on us all, the much loved green zero turn mower has found that it too has not escaped sitting still long enough to acquire a few cob webs. Each of the foals who was born this Spring has grown tall and strong and one by one are experiencing the rite of passage known as weaning. Sundae- born in May is the lone foal who still enjoys long naps in the sun under her mother Brownie's watchful gaze.

As I write this, Eden and Audry (who was just weaned this morning) are feeling the exuberance of adolescence and practicing their athletic maneuvers along the weathered black board fence line. Eden completed a spectacular high kick with both back feet but her landing was slightly awkward. When she landed, she coyly looked left and right as if to make sure that no one had seen her guffaw. School girls and fillies have quite a lot in common actually.

The yearlings are growing larger each day and their increased size makes it easier than ever to imagine that they will be learning to carry a rider this Winter. Jude, Amber, and Maxim among others- all were born at the farm in 2009 and one by one each will pass through that next phase of horsedom over the next 6 months.

The mares we bred earlier this Spring are beginning to bloom with their unborn foals. As the children who take riding lessons saddle them each week, the girths are getting more snug. Sabrina and Essi's unborn foals have begun kicking and seem to like to lope circles within their mothers. Sabrina accepts this with her usual unending patience however the red mare Essi will randomly pin her ears showing her displeasure to her Chevy-in-the-oven.

And that's how things are here today. I hope to be back now and begin sharing with you lots of things that I've seen and experienced with the animals this Summer. Barry White the Hedgehog has provided lots of fodder for my imagination as he continues regular outbreaks from his habitat requiring extensive hunts to locate him. Until tomorrow, hasta la vista and have a great day!

August 25, 2010

Blog for today...

Well, no blog written for today but I'm a lot closer...stay tuned...I'm coming back. The ideas are raging in my brain and staging a jail break...