7/1/10
The day began early - 4 a.m. eastern time, 6 a.m. in Costa Rica. I was again greeted by the smell of goats, but also loved the sound of the variety of birds chirping in the trees. One in particular caught my attention as its morning call was different than any I had ever heard before and I listened to it as it sang its solo of praise to our Creator.
I walked to the overlook, near the chapel, from which you can see the city of San Jose, with both of the dogs that live on the ranch - Dusty, an Italian Ridgeback and Buddy Bear, a large, black (flea-infested) lab. I continued to watch the sunrise and was tempted to sing my own solo of praise, but chose to remain silent in awe of God's handiwork.
After our devotion time and breakfast, we made our way up the mountain to an area that had previously been cleared of most of its trees, but still needed to be cleared of stumps, leftover logs, and then raked of its underbrush. The team quickly attacked the work at hand on the approximately 1.5 acre area of mountain. The steep angle of the mountain made the work harder in some ways and perhaps easier in others. Part of the team headed to the top of the parcel, picking up logs and tossing them down the mountain, while others (myself included) gathered the logs and carried them by hand or in wheelbarrows to one of two areas further down the mountain, where we were either stacking the good remains as firewood, or to a large mound of branches, stumps and vines which would become a burn pile to be destroyed.
The land was being cleared so that a crop of King's grass, a tall, ribbon-like grass that resembles stalks of corn, could be planted. King's grass is the primary staple of the goat's diet, so the added farm would make feeding the goats easier and more practical.
After 4 hours, the area had been cleared of its debris. Its was then that a dozen of us began to "turn the dirt" with handheld shovels. After the hard work we had previously done, turning the dirt with shovels became a chore. Yet, we joked about the work and no one really complained. It was not long before my back was beginning to hurt and not wanting to make it worse, I decided to return to the ranch a little early, before lunch.
When I arrived, Rollin invited me to help with the vaccination and tattooing of some goats that were going to be transported to Panama that afternoon. I joined Rollin, J.T. and Bob. J.T. would corral the goat, then he and I held them while Bob gave them two injections. Bob then used a device that embedded an imprint in their ear with a pattern of needles, after which Rollin applied the ink with a cotton swab. I then sprayed the goats with a small burst of purple spray paint on the back of their necks, so we could keep of track of those that were ready for transport. It probably goes without saying, but goats are rather stubborn animals that do not like to be handled. Though strong for their size, they were not too hard to corral, or hold, and even seemed to take the injections in stride, with little resistance. Yet, when it came to the tattooing of the ear, they reared and bleated, showing their considerable strength and their clear contempt for this procedure.
After washing up, the team gathered for lunch and after a short break, a good portion of the team returned to the field to continue turning dirt.
As my back was still "speaking" to me, I decided to sit in one of the rocking chairs on the porch of Randalisa Cabin, as it began to rain softly. After the brief rain, which lowered the temperature a few degrees, I went back to the Cloud Forrest Cafe (the are where we had our meals and played cards, just below Randalisa Cabin) and conversed with Carmen and Butch.
It was not long after lunch, perhaps and hour or so, that the group returned from the mountain. After a discussion of how to prepare the land in a less menial way, they realized that the task was simply too difficult to do by hand.
Soon the transport for the goats arrived and we loaded the prepared goats onto the truck. As it was approaching dinnertime, I decided to take a shower. Another delicious dinner ensued, followed by a hand of 65 that took us late into the evening, about 11 p.m. Eastern time. (Only 9 p.m. CR time!) Though it may have been "early" in Costa Rica, after a full day of hard work, I retired for the night, ready for sleep and realizing that another day of equally hard work lay only a few hours ahead.
The day began early - 4 a.m. eastern time, 6 a.m. in Costa Rica. I was again greeted by the smell of goats, but also loved the sound of the variety of birds chirping in the trees. One in particular caught my attention as its morning call was different than any I had ever heard before and I listened to it as it sang its solo of praise to our Creator.
I walked to the overlook, near the chapel, from which you can see the city of San Jose, with both of the dogs that live on the ranch - Dusty, an Italian Ridgeback and Buddy Bear, a large, black (flea-infested) lab. I continued to watch the sunrise and was tempted to sing my own solo of praise, but chose to remain silent in awe of God's handiwork.
After our devotion time and breakfast, we made our way up the mountain to an area that had previously been cleared of most of its trees, but still needed to be cleared of stumps, leftover logs, and then raked of its underbrush. The team quickly attacked the work at hand on the approximately 1.5 acre area of mountain. The steep angle of the mountain made the work harder in some ways and perhaps easier in others. Part of the team headed to the top of the parcel, picking up logs and tossing them down the mountain, while others (myself included) gathered the logs and carried them by hand or in wheelbarrows to one of two areas further down the mountain, where we were either stacking the good remains as firewood, or to a large mound of branches, stumps and vines which would become a burn pile to be destroyed.
The land was being cleared so that a crop of King's grass, a tall, ribbon-like grass that resembles stalks of corn, could be planted. King's grass is the primary staple of the goat's diet, so the added farm would make feeding the goats easier and more practical.
After 4 hours, the area had been cleared of its debris. Its was then that a dozen of us began to "turn the dirt" with handheld shovels. After the hard work we had previously done, turning the dirt with shovels became a chore. Yet, we joked about the work and no one really complained. It was not long before my back was beginning to hurt and not wanting to make it worse, I decided to return to the ranch a little early, before lunch.
When I arrived, Rollin invited me to help with the vaccination and tattooing of some goats that were going to be transported to Panama that afternoon. I joined Rollin, J.T. and Bob. J.T. would corral the goat, then he and I held them while Bob gave them two injections. Bob then used a device that embedded an imprint in their ear with a pattern of needles, after which Rollin applied the ink with a cotton swab. I then sprayed the goats with a small burst of purple spray paint on the back of their necks, so we could keep of track of those that were ready for transport. It probably goes without saying, but goats are rather stubborn animals that do not like to be handled. Though strong for their size, they were not too hard to corral, or hold, and even seemed to take the injections in stride, with little resistance. Yet, when it came to the tattooing of the ear, they reared and bleated, showing their considerable strength and their clear contempt for this procedure.
After washing up, the team gathered for lunch and after a short break, a good portion of the team returned to the field to continue turning dirt.
As my back was still "speaking" to me, I decided to sit in one of the rocking chairs on the porch of Randalisa Cabin, as it began to rain softly. After the brief rain, which lowered the temperature a few degrees, I went back to the Cloud Forrest Cafe (the are where we had our meals and played cards, just below Randalisa Cabin) and conversed with Carmen and Butch.
It was not long after lunch, perhaps and hour or so, that the group returned from the mountain. After a discussion of how to prepare the land in a less menial way, they realized that the task was simply too difficult to do by hand.
Soon the transport for the goats arrived and we loaded the prepared goats onto the truck. As it was approaching dinnertime, I decided to take a shower. Another delicious dinner ensued, followed by a hand of 65 that took us late into the evening, about 11 p.m. Eastern time. (Only 9 p.m. CR time!) Though it may have been "early" in Costa Rica, after a full day of hard work, I retired for the night, ready for sleep and realizing that another day of equally hard work lay only a few hours ahead.
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