How The Little Llama Helped

The way of this world and Universe work so beautifully together. Sometimes we wish upon a star and that asking takes form in our reality. It is usually best to keep unattached by allowing the gift to evolve and take it's place in our life.

We wanted a llama to keep our rescue llama, Arapaho, company during our walks with the other llamas. Llamas do not like to be left alone. They are herd animals. They feel much better with another llama, goat, lamb, even a goose can provide company for a llama.

Arapaho

Arapaho is absolutely beautiful. His long dreadlocks flow in waves down his body. He is a Suri llama not fuzzy and full of fiber like our other llamas. We came upon Arapaho 4 years ago. My husband happened to mention that it would be nice to have a Suri. I agreed and not 2 weeks later we were being offered a prime Suri who was placed in a rescue situation. The owners needed space at the ranch and he was going to be put down. It was either an outrage or an ingenious plot to influence two animal lovers in taking this llama off their hands. Paul and I looked at each other as the woman told us about him and that is all it took he was ours by nightfall. Arapaho is not tame like our other llamas. He is a bit skiddish. Though we do take him out and walk him, we prefer to leave him behind when we go off to the mountains or participate in parades. He may calm down in the future but for now we wanted a llama friend for him.

As always our desire was granted and then some. Christina (our Llama Angel), who introduced us to llamas at the Los Angeles County Fair, just happened to contact me with an offer to take in two rescue llamas. She sent me a picture and told me of their background. Because they were not trained I declined. By the way these llamas are now living in heavenly quarters and deeply loved by their owners who decided to not adopt them out.

The Little One

Paul had said he wanted a young llama, white and brown.

2 days later on the way home from our hike in the Juniper Forest, our eyes met with a large herd of llamas. We had seen this herd about 3 times grazing in other parts of this 60+ acre ranch. That day, in that herd, was a baby llama, white and brown. it was as if we were shopping in a magical store where anything you wanted was available. I asked Paul would you like this one? He said yes. We watched it with it's mother and imagined owning the little one. We set off down the road wondering who owned the llamas.

This favorite rural road of ours is wild with stock yards and haystacks and bleached, weathered Mormon barns and fences left standing in the fields for a hundred years or more. We rarely see anyone here. But this day was different... A man was standing in front of a haystack near a truck.  Paul parked the truck then went over to ask the man about the llama's owner. I stayed in the truck and saw a lot of smiling and then a handshake! I was sure the llama was ours.  Paul affirmed my observation and said the llama would be $50. We were quite elated ! It was then we saw a locksmith's truck pull in to where the farmer was standing. Had it not been for the fact he was locked out of his truck we would have not known who the llama belonged to.

We made plans to go get the llama. I wondered and worried how this was going to happen as the herd was free range on a 60+ acre farm and winter snows were approaching. I woke up one morning remembering the lane at the side of the property. It was fenced and ran along the canal. This is where the llamas would probably be delivered. This eased my mind from the thought of using ATV's to herd them and lasso's to capture them.  I then let go of the outcome and imagined the best possible outcome allowing the outcome to unfold. And it did...

Here come the llamas!

Friday December 9, 2011 at 3pm we met at the lane near the stockyard where we spoke to the farmer. My heart fluttered as I saw him herding the llamas down the lane just as I imagined. I felt the excitement flow to my body as I watched the familiar graceful swagger and sway of the herd coming down the lane. You can barely see them because of all things I left my camera home and used my phone camera.

The little one was so young.

I searched for the little one but to my dismay I saw up close that the little one was much too tiny to come home with us that day. Instead of pressing the panic button I allowed the procession to proceed. I stood back and watched the afternoon parade unfold.

Up the road the herd went.

They approached the gates and rounded the corner bringing the herd up the road towards the stock pen. the llamas were graceful and proceeded in such a calm and orderly manner.

Pig in a pen and cat cleaning a paw on the fence

The farmer, Ron, who had trailed behind the herd shuffling small little steps said he was getting old and couldn't walk. I drove back to the farm. He and his little black dog named Jacques after Jacques Cousteau got into the truck. The road into the stock pen was deep with snow covered ruts. Ron, instructed me to keep the truck goin' at an even speed and not to stop. We made it through to the corral where the llamas stood and waited. The stockyard was old yet charming and worn by many years of use from cattle, goats, pigs and cats.

Paul lines up the trailer to the stock pen.

We stood in the stock pen allowing our minds to absorb the sting of the little one being too young to take. It would be 6 months before he is weaned. Ron pointed out another llama that had the same markings and was under a year old. "I thought you meant that one " he said, as he pointed at a young but older llama. it was the sister of little one. We earnestly opened our minds and hearts to look at the older sister and I immediately loved her. Sure enough they are exactly the same color and markings. Paul agreed we would take little one's sister and got her in the trailer. She had never been in a trailer before so it took 4 men, some grunts and a prayer to get her in.

When we got home we opened the doors. She came out with her legs a flying outward and bloody drool streaming high in the air as she bucked and twisted away from the lead rope. We wondered at that point if we had done the right thing bringing her here. It was a tad frightening for all of us. The cut coagulated quickly and when the lead rope came off she was at ease again ( ears up).

Here she is home and safe.

Now it was time to introduce her to the herd before sundown. We chose Starbuck our friendly fellow. But he was to bashful to meet her. We then tried Wolfe and he was kind of hesitant also. They hadn't had too much experience with females. They boys are fixed by the way.  Starbuck and Wolfe were clucking their "stay away from me" sounds

Lakota takes the initiative while the others look on.

We opened the chute to allow Lakota and Arapaho in. Lakota went right over to her like Warner Bros. cartoon character, Pepe La Pew (the romantic skunk). Arapaho is enchanted with her.  But it is Lakota that has a heart connection with her.

The llamas look on at Lakota and the new little lady.

Lakota stands near her as the other llamas look on with curiosity. Everyone was lead out of the pasture and into the corral for feeding. Everyone did very well in spite of Wolfe, the leader, spitting on milady as she got  near his eating space. Once everyone found their pile of orchard grass and a bit of alfalfa, they all settled down. It was a meal fit for a princess that had lived on sage brush and dry grass her whole life. We all fell asleep after an eventful afternoon and evening. I awoke later that night wondering what to name her...

Autumn Bliss

The Rolling Hills Off Lund Hwy

How does it get any better than this? Our dream of living off the land continues to come true as we go out to cut our own wood in the wild for our stove.

Team work.

We made an efficient family team as we cut, sorted and stacked the wood in the truck.

Me Tossing The Wood Into The Truck

My Grandson is a great help. A  job well done.

This is the land where the antelope play and wild horses run.

The graded road to Lund is long and the perspective is amazing. Out here is where the cowboys still ride their horses into the sunset after a long days on the range. For miles as far as the eyes can see is the land as it was in the 1800's pure wild and free.

"I looked around me and felt the ranges, the land, and the sky embrace us and I knew then I was truly close to the earth and living the life I/we have dreamed off."

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freshly picked Oak Leaves

 I gathered the last of the Oak leaves while on a hike in the gullies and canyons of The Three Peaks. It seems like yesterday that the Oaks leaves were bursting out of the bare winter branches. I have lot's of ideas for these beauties. I will use 2 methods of preserving. One will be to soak in a solution of glycerin and water and the other I will iron between waxed paper. I have an online store that displays these creative projects on T-shirts, mugs, and greeting cards. I hope you all visit often to see what I have made. I have oodles of ideas, landscapes, flora and fauna and art to fill my store as time goes by.

End of Autumn Chores

I looked outside my kitchen door and heard the roar of our tractor plowing and tilling the land. After such a grand harvest of corn we move into the rhythm of the earth and prepare for the winter and an easy spring planting.

Our Fur and Feather Family Play

What a blessing that we all get along and respect each other's process and space. Our dogs and chickens commune beautifully together. They sing and play and run together in the yards. I will take my hens for a walk in the front gardens today before the snow comes later tonight. I will make a trail of bread to the gates and toss the rest into the grass. They will love scratchin' and digging in the dirt and clay.

Autumn Bliss: A walk in the high country promises exquisite color
and crisp cool weather. The meadows and trees are a delight as we walk on the trails.

Soon we will be riding our ATV's with our new club called the Trail Blazers and receiving visitors for the the holiday season. Life is so good. How does it get any better than this? Autumn Bliss !

A Red Hen Sweater for Peck

I have taken some pretty weird orders in my dressmaking career but this one tops the chart. 20 years of creating prom dresses, wedding dresses, suits, drapes and pillows, alterations, zippers in jeans, quilts and duvet covers, you name it, I made it. But a Hen Jumper is something quite new indeed. My dressmaking slogan was Creating Anything Your Heart Desires so this little project was gonna be a piece of cake.

It was so much fun to blow the dust off my sewing machine and loop that familiar yellow measuring tape around the back of my neck and feeling it fall down the from of my legs onto the floor. See how natural I look in this setting? Brings back memories. My magically delicious life was but a seed back then and now the seed of my dreams have been planted and sprouted and have grown some. Brings a smile to my face to think of it.

I made a pattern, cut the jumper out of fleece then strategically zig zagged the velcro fasteners on. I proudly held the tiny green garment up and admired it. Paul and I went out doors and fetched Peck, my hen. Paul did the holding as I wrapped and fastened on the jumper. I got to say there ain't nothin' like a chicken wrapped in fleece in your arms. Here she is...

Peck lost a few feathers in the summer and we wanted to keep her warm. Turns out a rescue for hens in the UK puts these sweaters or jumpers on their hens. About 10-20% of their rescues have feathers missing and the use of these sweaters not only keeps them warm but allows their feathers to grow back. I have links below for patterns and info on the hen rescue.

 I set Peck down on the grass only to observe her walk backwards and stop, then backwards and stop again, and again. We thought maybe she was trying to step out of it. With a Libra eye my husband said it may need be a bit bigger and I quickly agreed as I

noticed the stress lines around her girth. Back to the house I flew and made up a larger pattern in red this time. I have got to say that red was the ticket. She looked so pretty in red. However, her sisters, Cali, Betsy and Henny Penny scoffed and pecked at her new duds. We took off the red jumper and I will make a larger one as the girth was still tight on her. Geeze you would have thunk I had of measured Peck's body first. Now I will have patterns in small, medium and large.

It has been an exciting day. It snowed all day and Paul and I took a walk in our Juniper Forest with our dogs, Kollie, Windy and Walker. They had a blast running and leaping and pouncing in the snow. The day went by so fast. Night has fallen and it is snowing. I am ready to fall asleep. I wish you all a good night or day which ever the case may be. Tomorrow is another day and I am looking forward to it. But for now it is Over and Out here in Cedar City,UT USA

Om Shanti Om (Peace)

Helpful Links:

http://littlehenrescue.co.uk/Hensandtheirjumpers.aspx

http://barnyardsandbackyards.org/2011/02/0http://www.wonderhowto.com/how-to-read-crochet-instructions-correctly-0122599/3/chicken-sweaters/

http://squee.icanhascheezburger.com/2011/01/28/cute-baby-animals-warm-this-winter/

http://plumcreekmama.blogspot.com/2009/10/hen-sweater.html

Harley McFarley's First Snow

Harley our cat, followed us home one day in late March after a weeks worth of howling winds. My husband and I had been out for a walk when this cute little kitten came running from an abandoned house. He meowed and meowed as his little paws trotted, ran and leaped along side of us.  He selected us, I suppose, as his human family.

Harley McFarley

He entered our hearts with his little squirrel like body and his friendly cuddly nature. And what an appetite! Harley eats fresh liver, crock pot chicken and an occasional can of tuna. The other dear fur members of our home had quite an adjustment to make. It appears every time we bring in a new family member, fur, feather or otherwise, it creates a whole  different pecking order in the home. But after a few rumbles, squawks an growls it all simmered down. Now Harley walks about the house like he owns it. He has a regular routine of mousing outdoors and visits the other cats in the neighborhood. He is usually home at night and if he isn't he rushes in at 4:30 am when I open the door.

First Snowfall In Autumn 2011

The first snows come here around Halloween, so it was right on schedule. We awoke to the most beautiful site this morning. It was still dark but we could see the white of snow. It is real dark out in the country except for moonlight and few dim solar lights behind the barn. Imagine our surprise as we saw snow falling in the flash of the camera. Oh so beautiful!




When the sun rose over the land
We gazed into an Autumnal Wonderland
The air was fresh and chilled like a romantic glass of champagne
And every breath was an elixir of exhilarating bliss.

Our Autumnal Wonderland. Starbuck our llama is  in the shelter.

The garden trees drooped under the heavy white clumps of snow. So I took my 3 ft long dandelion plucker as my wand and gently tapped the limbs and branches. UP they went and the clumps and flakes fell down over my hair and coat. It was a chilly bath of delight. So fun the first snow!

Harley McFarley's First Snow!

Harley McFarley made his way outdoors and felt the cold. He backed inside the door from the chill and decided to take a short nap. He took his maiden voyage upon the snow at 11am. I called him into through the garden gate and off he pounced onto and into the frosty white stuff.  Weee! He loved it!

Harley finds hidden treasure.

Every turn he saw the magical crisp white land of snow. He peers inside this bucket, for Harley a hidden cave with treasures to discover!

Harley looks out over the snow.

Harley looked out over his new Autumnal Wonderland. Not one flick of an icy paws nor shiver from cold did Harley make. He bounced and stalked with appreciation of having yet another wondrous adventure. Harley must think the world of us now as we do of him. We are glad of his coming to live in our home. We are happy with Harley... The End.

Corn On The Cob

Fresh Picked Peaches and Cream Corn

There is nothing like the taste of those sweet kernels of fresh picked corn. Come to think of it the whole preparation, the dreaming, the plotting, the plowing, making the rows, planting the seeds, and caring for the young sprouts is a beautiful full circle experience. . Watering, feeding and watching them grow and blossom into a remarkable likeness of the picutre on the front of the seed package or catalogue is very satisfying indeed.

Windy harvest and a big load of corn !!!

It was time to pick the corn. I stepped outdoors and the stalks were bending north from the oncoming storm winds. I rolled in the wheelbarrel, gathered up the clippers, the camera and my gloves and made my way to the corn field of rattling stalks, and the flashy colors greens and golds. There was a promise of an adventurous harvest. I had to look twice at my yeild. The whole wheel barrel was full above the brim with corn.

I husked the corn outdoors that night.

We got word of a cold snap coming any day so I went outside my kitchen door that night and began shucking the corn. Some of them well, most of them had a worm at the top near the silks. They didn't eat much and I cut off the eaten part at the very top. I would knock the worms into a mason jar to serve to my hens. They love them!  I had a feelin' I would never get all these done but with each one I got faster and better. I wondered how we were going to eat all this corn?

I got the water to boil on the stove. Parboiled for 9 minutes

Then I plunged them into cold water to cool.

I laid them out on a towel to dry.

Then I put them in feezer bags and slipped in a straw and sucked out the air.

The next day, I delivered 2 dozen to my neighbor behind us and 6 to our neighbors next door. My husband took some with him to a co-worker and the father of my grandson's friend took 2 dozen home to his family! We all had delicious corn to enjoy ! Seems like everything just works out.

How was your harvest this year?

St. George Wagon Co. 1861-2011

St. George Wagon Co. Sign at Old Iron Springs Road.

On the way home from cutting wood out near Lund Rd, I began gazing out of the truck window at the roads we had traveled in the past 3 years. They wound through canyons, old mines, railroads and  lot's of big sage brush and juniper trees. It was Paul's Birthday and I was getting ready to ask Paul if he would like to have a picnic out there along one of those scenic roadside stops.  Paul opted to go to Chile's for dinner. We had a wonderful dinner and even shared a brownie with fudge and whipped cream! Yum!


The next day we went for a walk at The Three Peaks where we discovered narrow gullies and washes that wound their way through towering boulders of granite. Black iron streaked filings in the watermarked sand shone like large diamonds in the sun. The sky was blue.

That afternoon I got a call from Paul. he told me to get ready for a drive. He doesn't tell me where and I know it is a surprise of some kind from the sound of his voice. I had my camera and the dogs ready to go. He pulled his truck into the driveway and we loaded up. While on the road to, I do not know where, he hands me a paper called The Independent which is folded to an article that has pioneers on it. He asks me to read it while we are driving. I read the history of the Dixie Cotton Mission in 1861 and an adjoining article on the Sesquicentennial (150 year) Celebration of St. George, Utah. A reenactment of that period was going on right where we were headed!!! I could feel my emotions rising in my throat with such excitement. I had always dreamed of seeing the wagon trains crossing out on the land and hear the horses snort and the chains rattle and the groaning of the wheels and wood.

The Wagon Co. arrives as far as we could see.

He drove way out in the distance and we spotted signs on Old Iron Springs Road. They said St. George Wagon Co. in thick red paint with an arrow leading up a road to the west. I felt myself unable to sit still. Paul just then spotted the white cloth of the wagons making their way through the brush out of The Three Peaks. We parked and I got out with my camera. My heart was beating so fast I could barely get my footing on the ground. One deep breath and I gathered myself and began snapping pictures and video.

 

The costumes and the wagons and hand carts were beautiful and I felt like I was a pioneer myself standing out on the range back in the 1800's. The contrast of telephone poles and microwave stations made the whole experience timeless. Have you ever had a time when your dreams or imaginative thoughts were materializing right before your eyes? Another deep breath and I was sure footed and able to smile and wave and say hello as they passed.

They had traveled from the City of Parowan and were traveling to St. George on an eight day journey 100 miles away. Here they are on their way to Desert Mound.  We have seen their support vehicles, water, fire, toilets and equipment and supples. They even wrote a daily journal posted on http://www.sgcity.org/wagontrain/journal11.php  here is one of their entries in their journal.

St. George Wagon Co. Dixie Cotton Mission Tues Oct 11th

Tuesday Journal Entry
For some reason I thought our colder days were behind us but this morning proved me wrong. A crisp morning with hot cakes and eggs set the stage for the push toward Page Ranch today. I think they named the area Desert Mound due to the fact that you can't take more than five steps without walking through an ant mound. Anyway, we hitched up and left camp on time around 9:30 this morning.

We traveled 14 miles today, mostly uphill. The handcarts started out ahead but the wagon teams and riders caught up quickly. The temperature quickly warmed up as we marched our way out of the Iron Springs Valley. We must have had a faster team leading today because the pace seemed to be much improved from yesterday.

"While at lunch one of the teams took off unattended. In no time the wagon tipped on it's side and the tongue broke-off leaving it inoperable. The driver stayed behind and waited for parts to arrive before fixing the wagon and resuming the journey. Neither man nor beast was injured. On Pinto Road freshly graded dirt and gravel made it easier on the teams but tougher on the handcarts. It was almost as if we were pulling the carts through sand."

Lunch time for all. St. George Wagon Company

That night we felt the cold and thought of the Wagon Company out there on Desert Mound. The next day we decided to see them again on their way to Page Ranch. We arrived again to see them traveling down the road. Again we greeted them as they went by and they stopped a short distance down the road for lunch. They commented on our dogs, how pretty they were, and two young boys from the wagon train came to greet them. Their mother came with a Ziploc bag of dried apples and offered us some. They were delicious! 

Windy get some lovin'

I created a short documentary film about this experience and posted it on You Tube.com as
  St. George Wagon Co. 1861-2011

or you may watch the video below. 

Are you a pioneer? You do not need to ride in a wagon across miles of wind blown trails to be a pioneer.

I really feel we are modern pioneers and visionaries who have the qualities of commitment, courage and creativity. We venture into unknown lands with faith, hope and charity to make a better world for ourselves and others.

Delicious Sun-Dried Tomatoes

Homemade sun dried tomatoes on the dehydrator tray.

Originally published October 1, 2011.

Reposted September 16, 2023

I had a big red mixing bowl full of ripe heirloom cherry tomatoes fresh out of my garden. They had been sitting on the kitchen table and I was wondering what do do with them all. I used  them in salads,  tacos, and made a bit of salsa but there was still more left and more to come off the vines. 

I saw a great recipe for stuffed cherry tomatoes. The flesh and pulp were scooped out and filled with feta cheese and herbs. But I did not have any feta cheese on hand. Hey ! What about sun-dried tomatoes?  I looked up my favorite site, Pick Your Own and found it was very easy to make my own. I went out into my shed and found the Excaliber dehydrator. I have had it since I moved to Utah 14 years ago. It has an ample 4 shelves and temps up to 145 degrees. I set the dial for 140 degrees. And began to wash and slice each tomato in half.  I chose to leave my skins on as these were small . I gently removed the seeds by pushing them out with my thumb.

My dehydrator is wonderful. It is an Excalibur. 

I was happy to have enough to fill the 4 trays. They looked so pretty. I pushed in the racks and plugged her in. Soon the house smelled of tomatoes baking in the sun.

Homemade sun-dried tomatoes are delicious!

About 8 hours and they were done. I tasted one and then another and then another. To me they tasted like candy.

Home Made Sun-Dried Tomatoes

The big bowl of tomatoes made two portions. The tomatoes shrink to 1/4 their original size. I sealed them in a Ziploc and placed them in the refrigerator where they will keep for 18 months. I use them for pasta and snacking. These will be gone soon. I am looking forward to making more. 

There is nothing better than tomatoes right out of your garden but if you do not have a garden you can buy tomatoes at the market. Roma tomatoes are best because they have more flesh and less seeds and water content.  I would like to grow some of those next year.

Deborah Moon Moen
Little Utah Farm

Thank you for visiting Little Utah Farm !

Farming is Fun

Our new windmill needs to be fastened
down in the howling winds.

Our parents grew up on a farm. Mine in Indiana and Paul's in South Dakota. They chose the city to raise their families. Paul and I dreamed of farming. Sometimes you just got to pinch yourself when your Dream is realized. Everyday we appreciate and LOVE our Farm.

The rising summer sun makes a bright golden haze on the fields.

We just harvested hay. Arapaho, our llama,
 thinks it's good and ready

Our little alfalfa field is very beautiful and yields about 1/2 week to 2 weeks worth of hay. It is just big enough to give us a farming experience. We cut it with a special blade that fits in the weed whacker. Then we rake it by hand and stack it in the sun. When it is cured about, 3 days, we put it in the wagon. We just picked up 5 bales of a blend of 60%Timothy grass and 40% 'alfalfa. First cut may contain fox tails so we check it before we buy it.

We love our tractor

This me on the tractor.  Paul taught me how to run it and use it. I like looking back at the earth as it undulates under the sharp blades and the smell of earth and the promise of crops to come.

The Wild Jungle of Love

The Jungle of LOVE is Paul's creation. It is the lushest place in Cedar City Clay. A magical place with ground cover that protects the wildflowers. Next year I will plant one in my cornfield for protection from harsh winds and hard clay.

Ok now you gotto realize that 2 years ago these were 1 1/2 ' sticks with a few roots. I ordered 64 willows and trees and the post woman drove up with one whimpy green plastic bag. Pretty disappointing after wanting for those lovely trees and flowers in the catalogue. I commenced to digging forever holes and planting forever trees and willows. Today they are growing so nicely. See? Taller than an elephants eye and great wall for wind and snow for the llamas. The man in this picture I LOVE. He is so handsome and willing, don't you think ? ♥ PAUL ♥ Is my LOVE Husband ♥

Bizzy Beeezzz in The Jungle of Love

There are plenty of happy bees on our organic farm. They are so buzzie and bizzy, and gather so much yellow pollen their little legs are full of it. I love this wildflower garden and so do they.

This spinach is divine. I snip off the leaves as
 I use them and pinch the flowers off

My first cabbage ever. Ain't she pretty?
We have beets, Italian parsley and
chamomile too.

Rainbow eggs everyday

My girls are so sweet. Henny Penny, Betsy
Callie and Peck. I have 6 more.

Sunsets are absolutely scrumptious
with drama, color and variations.

Each day here is weaves a story of precious memories of textures, color, sound, and temperatures are a  reflection of our life long dream of living in the country in a rural setting. Farming is fun.