COMANCHE

In keeping with the "I think my kids need farm experiences" we've allowed the Blackhorse division of the U.S. Army 5th Infantry division to "Bunk" their very ancient and arthritic trophy horse Sergeant Comanche in our ginormous dirtyard. The kids think he's their horse, the 5th Cav. Vets in St. George think he's theirs, and everybody's happy.

Each morning Matt feeds him and hays him. Each night Amy mixes a cocktail of no less than 7 items into Comanche's food. They talk to him, love him, brush him. I watch him from the house.

Matt and Maggie feed Comanche on on our only snow day resulting in a 1/2 acre ice skating rink

This post should have come to you in January, but with the death of my dad, I just didn't get to it. At this moment, Comanche has been moved to a neighbor's pasture because the mud of our backyard aggravated his arthritis. We don't have to feed him, but we can't see him every morning either. I was just starting to get used to the fella. The next goal is to get a pasture of our own so Comanche can come home.

Farmer Jensens-- Almost

Farm Experience

Growing up a city girl, I have a tendency to idealize pastoral experience. My head is replete with Laura Ingalls Wilder types who raise sheep, milk cows, make soap, smoke meat, and outrun wild animals-- eventually sitting together at the end of the day in front of the fire sipping hot chamomile and mending socks on the lone prairie.

WELL, I have always wanted to have those skills, but I haven't really wanted to put in the work to make these dreams a reality. But I feel that my kids need these very real farm experiences. So, it has been fun to have good friends that are "Gentleman farmers"-- they do all the work-- the daily trips to "the farm," the twice-a-day feedings, the mucking, etc., and we get a call when they do the fun stuff like gathering eggs and shearing sheep.

The Bayles' called us over for the shearing this year, and no doubt we'll be there for the lambing. It makes us fell a little bit like Farmer Ted, but we're not kidding ourselves. We know we're kinda wimpy.