N = the number of bolts holding on a component you need to take off a machine.

N – 1 = the number of bolts that you’ll be able to remove.

Brad’s nails had gotten out of control.  They were really long and curled around and it was getting to the point where he was going to be crippled if they weren’t trimmed.  The problem is he’s touchy about his legs, and whenever we’d even make a gesture toward them, he’d flip out and run away or nearly knock us over.  I decided to build a chute to restrain him so we could safely get him trimmed.  Using only materials I got from the dump (with the exception of about $5 worth of screws and bolts from the hardware store), Delia and I built the Llama Salon.

It’s 25″ wide, 65″ long, and 70″ high.  Brad walks in from the back, and then there are two moveable boards at the front that can clamp down (lightly!) on his neck right by his shoulders so he can’t walk forward and also can’t thrash the front of his body around.  The rear of his body cam move some, but he can’t spin around, which is what he’d do when we’d try to do it before we had this chute.  He’s then tied in the front with a lead rope so he can’t move backward.

The Llama Salon made it a LOT easier to get the job done, though it was still FAR from easy.  Let me tell you something: llamas are strong.  Even with his neck immobilized, he was able to completely throw us around when we’d grab one of his legs.  He’d also cush (that’s what it’s called when llamas lay down – don’t ask me why) when we were trying to grab his feet.  The funny thing is he was like an Irish dancer while this was going on.  The front of him stayed completely still while his legs were flailing around like crazy.  He kept eating his hay even while flinging us around.  We finally just grabbed onto one front foot and held it as still as we could and held on until he mostly gave up thrashing it around, and got his nails trimmed down.  The back feet were another story.  We finally gave up trying to hold them after getting slammed against the walls of the chute a few times, and then we discovered we could trim them while he was standing as long as we were quick about it.

On the last nail, some blood was shed.  We cut him a little too deep and he started bleeding pretty badly.  It slowed down but never stopped, so I went over to a friend’s and got some blood stop powder, which did the trick.

So now Brad’s nails are less of a disgrace!  We’re going to try to trim them back a little more next week, and then hopefully they’ll be somewhat slow growing so we don’t have to repeat this process too often.  Nobody enjoys it.

We just put up pictures for December through February.  They’re here.

I am proud of my dad. He was a man who confronted challenges without hesitation, and who always put others before himself. He nearly left us almost four years ago, but with guts and determination, he rejected the limits that doctors set for him and not only survived, but got back to living the life he wanted to. In that time, he saw his granddaughter Delia grow from a toddler to a young lady, and the arrival of his grandson Henry. I’m grateful to him for that time.

Even when confronted with cancer, his first thought was about my mom and me, and not himself. In the car on the way home from the doctor after we’d received the diagnosis, he eloquently told us a story about how soldiers in the civil war who marched off to battle knowing they might not come back were lauded for their bravery, but that he always felt the loved ones at home were the brave ones because they could do nothing but wait and feel sorrow. That was the last it was spoken of, and then he bravely got on with it. Never a tear for himself – only concern for those around him, and a noble defiance.

From as far back as I can remember, my dad taught me how to work with my hands. Anyone who knew him knew that he was always a teacher. Even when he wasn’t teaching, he was teaching. My fondest memories of him were the times we spent together building, fixing, or even demolishing things. Every time I fix something around the house or use a tool that he gave me, I think of him and feel his influence. He had an uncanny ability to provide me with knowledge and tools that I’d end up needing in the near future. On Christmas morning, I’d open a present from him only to find a tool that I’d never encountered before and didn’t understand. He’d explain to me what it was and say it might come in handy. Almost always, within the next year or so, it would be exactly what I’d need to complete a project. I loved going and working with him, and again, more often than not what we’d do on those days and what he’d teach me would always come to serve me well later. I’d sometimes wonder why he so thoroughly explained to me what he was doing and had me practice what seemed to be a trivial “when will I ever need to know this” type of task. Later when I’d come to need the exact thing he taught me, it made sense. This was something he did for many other people as well. If someone was in need, he’d make it his project to help them, but also set them up so they wouldn’t need help in the future. His wisdom and thoughtfulness were something to behold.

I’ll always remember the funny things he’d say about whatever project we were working on. “I keep cutting and cutting and it’s still too short.” “I think we need a bigger hammer.” “Violence always works.” and after we’d pondered the best course of action for too long, he’d say “Well, if you’re going to make a mistake, make a big one.”

I’m so proud of how he lived his life; always helping other people, and, to paraphrase a quote from Lincoln that he loved, plucking thistles and planting flowers. The best way I know to honor his memory is to try to follow his example.

And I will always “measure twice and cut once.”

The big news of 2009 is that we added quite a few farm animals to our already-animal-filled life. In May we adopted a small pony named Cowboy. A few weeks after that we got three baby goats and named them Banjo, Moon and Cosmo. Sancho, the big pony, was acquired in June. In August we found the final touch to the backyard farm: Brad Pitt the llama. Our first winter with farm animals has started out OK. It is always an adventure finding and moving hay to where you need it. Now I understand much better why many people move their animals to the grass instead of the other way around. I also have a greater appreciation for the simplicity of our flock of laying hens. That is, at least, when they are laying…

Henry turned two in May and the big hit of his birthday was a battery operated four-wheeler. He rides that thing ALL over the place, and has become a bit of a trick rider. As a two year old, he specializes in mayhem and general destruction. What’s special about him is his incredibly sweet nature and physical affection — if you want a great hug, it’s worth waiting around until he’s ready to give you one. Ryan and I are lucky enough to be hugged and kissed by him all day every day (pretty much).

Delia turned six this year. (I know. We can’t believe it either.) She continues to learn from everything she does, only this year we are calling it homeschooling. Around her birthday in October, she started swimming and loves to be in the water even more now that she has experienced displacement in a calm manner (aka FLOATING). Although she didn’t finish last year’s class, she’s trying ice skating again with her eye on the goal of performing in the show. All that pesky practicing between now and then sure is boring, though.

Ryan’s dad, John, is fighting lung cancer so the last few months have seen extra traveling, worry, and uproar. We are so appreciative of the help from many of you, and the well wishes too. We look forward to 2010 with hopes for good health, great memories, and prosperity for all.

He says “I know” when he has an idea. Example: “I know – I’ll wear my boots!”

I cut open a round bale yesterday.   Gave a little to the goats, and now it’s for Brad and the horses.  We’ll see how long it lasts.

Got 56 square alfalfa bales today, for $4 each, from a guy in Wright.  I weighed one and it was 33 lbs.  Started feeding it to the goats today.  We’ve also been giving them some alfalfa pellets.  I think we bought the bag on about 11/23.

Tomorrow my little girl turns six.

As I write this, we’re in Duluth at the Edgewater Hotel and waterpark for Delia’s birthday celebration (we had the waterpark almost to ourselves since it’s Monday!) Six years ago at this time we were at the hospital in Ely, about to have out first child.

I can hardly believe that she’s six already, but today she was swimming on her own, and even lost her third tooth.  She continues to amaze us with her curiosity, creativity, intelligence, and humor.  She’s quite a almost-six-year-old girl, and we love her so much.