Wandering Spirit

  Wandering Spirit is what I named the baby owl that was the only baby in the second clutch of our Fink Family Farm Barn Owls in 2025. But I think I may also be a wandering spirit or at least my blog is. I started a new blog, More Ramblings from Fink Family Farm, back in April because I could not get signed into my original blog (this one, Fink Family Farm Ramblings) to write a new post. Today I cannot get signed into my More Ramblings blog but did manage to get into my original one. Is that clear as mud? We'll see where I get next time I try.

To catch everyone up to date on the Barn Owl story this summer at Fink Family Farm, I'll repost what I have sent to my email list of folks who have expressed interest in our Barn Owl news. And then, hopefully, add from there... As background, the first clutch this year fledged 5 owlets in early June. The owls don't always have two clutches, but this year, they did. However, only one egg in the second clutch, which has never happened before.

July 10...First egg was seen in the nest box, with Mama Owl, tonight, July 10. In the past first fledging happened about 90-100 days after first egg appeared. That means fledging will probably happen in early October...

I finally again on Sept 7, after the egg had disappeared, saw mama owl sitting sort of upright with a very fuzzy -- and big -- baby owl under her, looking out at me with that moon-shaped face. So apparently she laid only one egg and hatched it out and has been setting over it, hidden from my occasional visits, ever since. Time wise it should be feathered and ready to fledge in October, as I first predicted. However I don't think there's any point in trying to have a fledging party for one lonely chick. I think that might be a bit traumatic for all concerned. 

This Big Baby Owl managed to have a traumatic fledging even without a party. Here's the rest of the story as told to the list.

October 5...

Tonight I climbed the ladder and checked the one baby barn owl that was produced in this second litter of the year. The big baby is still covered in down but the face looks like a heart-shaped Barn Owl face now. I was beginning to think Mama Owl had mated with a much bigger owl to produce this giant chick, but I think the big little guy is just the result of being the only one getting all the food.

Parent owls catch whatever they can and feed it to however many children they have. When only one, apparently that one eats and eats and eats and grows and grows and grows. I may go up with a camera and see if I can get a photo without extra lighting. We have never had a Barn Owl chick this big. It has to duck its head to stand inside the nest box. Except for the head and face, it is still just a mass of white down.

October 9...

Yesterday morning (10/8), when I went into the loft to throw down hay, I walked toward the south end of the barn to get a bale for the bucks. They get the grass hay that has less lotus in it than the bales at the north end that I feed to the milkers and kids. I stopped as a tremendous ruckus went up from the rafters high over my head at the very south end of the barn near the little opening at the end of the tree limb that extends from the north end of the loft near the nest box to the south end near the opening. The tree limb is for the owls to roost on. We do not stack hay under it as that's where the owls hang out when they first leave the nest box... and make lots of big white SPLATS (as I call them) under the limb.
   I looked up toward the sound and could barely make out what looked sort of like an owl face scrunched up under the roof where there did not look like there was room for an owl... but it was very dark up there. So I went down the loft ladder and turned on the light... went back up and that had not helped as the lights don't shine up at the ceiling but down. I dashed back to the house for a flashlight (and camera, of course). When I came back up into the loft, I could not see an owl face or anything recognizable. But there was something up there that I could not tell what was with light or camera. Rather than give the Thing a heart attack, I fed hay to the goats and climbed back down out of the loft.
   That evening I went up to feed hay with my flashlight in tow. There was nothing at the south end of the loft where something had been that morning. When I finished feeding hay, I took my flashlight and climbed the stairs to the nest box and peeked in, shining my light off to the side, not into the box, so as not to blind whatever might be in the box. That is my standard procedure on the rare times I check the box.
   Standing at the back of the box, was the Big Baby Barn Owl, as usual. But now I noticed that peeking out here and there from all that fluffy down were feathers, mostly hidden in the down but there. I suspect Big Baby is beginning to explore and try to use his wings, such as they are. Pretty impressive that he made it all the way from one end of the barn to the other and found a hidey hole, of sorts, under the roof. And then, after I left, made his way back to the nest box. Well, it could well be a "she", not a "he" as the females are usually bigger than the males.
   I'll start checking for feathers and owl pellets under the limb to see if Big Baby is hanging out there when I'm not around. I'll keep y'all posted.

 October 10...

Yesterday morning (Oct. 9) when I went out to do morning chores, the big baby owl was in a tree in front of the barn. I'll attach photos I took yesterday. I don't know if parents came to feed it last night or if it fed itself but this morning it is in a slightly different place in the same thicket of trees... eyes tightly closed, apparently asleep. I'm wondering if the parents of this owl got tired of feeding the big baby and so it left to find its own food. The night before I had seen it in the nest box, where it had returned after I'd seen it that morning at the far end of the barn. So it was able to get from one end of the barn to the other. I am suspecting it was hungry and going out looking for food. Maybe a parent was enticing it out with a rodent?

I don't really have a clue why it left the safe barn when it obviously has not mastered hiding in broad daylight. Can only hope it survives.

 

One other time we had a baby owl, fully feathered, who took off during the day and tried to feed itself. It stayed out for several days until crows finally convinced it that it should hide. After that, I assume it turned into a night owl. I wrote a children's story with photos about that. Dawn Villaescusa came over and took some of the photos.

On Oct. 10, this year's wandering owl was still in the trees but in a slightly different location. Here are my responses to folks who wrote:

(Oct. 11) It has moved its perch slightly but still in basically the same area. Once when I was in the area, I could see its eyes open. I can see a feathered wing between all that down on its front and back, so maybe it can fly, sort of. Do not know if parents are feeding it... I have not heard their calls nor have I heard the baby begging, but I'm not going out after dark so as not to interfere with any feeding or hunting. (2nd photo)

A retired wildlife professor friend told me that 80% of wildlife born do not reach adulthood. That makes sense when you think of it... If all offspring survived, the population would increase dramatically.

It rained last night and I worried. This morning, 10/12, there was no owl to be found in the trees outside the barn. I wondered if it had moved to an evergreen, a much safer roost, or if it had managed to get back into the barn, or... if it was lying dead below the trees somewhere. I milked and fed goats, then went up the ladder to the barn loft to throw down hay. Before I reached the top all heck broke loose above me... baby owl was definitely back, crashing around from somewhere high at the south end of the loft to the north end where the nest box is. It looked fully feathered now with not much down visible. I guess all it's wild activity had de-fluffed it and allowed the flight feathers to be seen.

I went ahead and fed hay to the bucks, as usual, while the owl flopped around on top of the nest box. When I looked next, it was gone. I think it is inside the box but it could have flown out the opening right by the nest box. I don't think it did as it could have done that when it first flew to the north end of the barn instead of stuffing itself below the ceiling on top of the box. Later I looked outside and saw no owl in any nearby or distant tree. Tonight I will try to feed hay before dark and look inside the nest box... unless the owl is again crashing around the loft.

At any rate, I feel much better about this owl's chance for survival. It must be eating. And it certainly can fly and knows how to get back into the dry barn loft. I have dubbed it Wandering Spirit.

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The Excitement Never Ends...

 

Another storm, another tree down. This time the hybrid poplar clump in our front yard let go of one of its trunks across the front yard, not across our driveway or house. That's because the intense windstorm blew from the south, knocking out power to us and 41 other households in our area. It was night, farm chores were done, so we just went to bed and hoped for the best. 

Power was back on in the morning and all animals were alive and all but one building was still intact. I actually drove my EZ Go back and forth to the barns several times without noticing the tree lying in the front yard. It was cleverly shielded by the bushes it had crushed.

 

 I was always looking the other direction where the big trunk was still nestled between firs across the front driveway from the Christmas night storm.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 This latest victim was more noticeable from the front yard

 

 

In the back yard, we had watched, before dark, the intense wind blowing the Linden branches clear to the ground before they sprang back up. It was dramatic. But in the morning the Linden was intact. However, it had dumped all its dead twigs all over the ground

 

 

So I spent hours picking up twigs/branches, loading them in my EZ Go and taking them down to the burn pile in a lower field. It was a beautiful day so I didn't mind although my sciatica did

 

Goats were enjoying the unusual warmth and sunshine. 

 

Until they saw me driving by with a load of what they thought was tasty browse for them to chew on. Sorry, gang, it was just dead twigs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meanwhile I had noticed plastic blowing from the shed that held plywood, along with other stuff. That shed was the last remaining piece of the old barn that had been on this place when we moved here and where our goats lived for the first many years. Johnny spent the whole day trying to resurrect that roof.

 

 

 

Johnny is back on the roof today. You can't keep a good man down. 

As for me, I'm doing the documentary here. And taking a tip from this garden gnome...

 

 

 

Our 58th Anniversary

 It seems impossible that Johnny and I, young things that we think we are, have been married for 58 years but... we were married on Feb. 13 in 1967 so...  

I have told the story many times in these blog posts of how we happened to get married the day before Valentine's Day. 

Briefly: Johnny's Forest Service boss in Wyoming told him the Friday before that it was not acceptable to be living with a woman he was not married to. (Remember: This was 1967). So I had to move out. Instead, we got married the next Monday, when we figured the courthouse would be open. What we didn't realize was that Feb. 13 was a Federal Holiday (Lincoln's Birthday, I think) and courthouses in Wyoming and nearby Utah were closed. That's how we happened to get married in Paris. 

Paris, Idaho, that is. I guess Idaho did not observe federal holidays. 

Johnny always says Friday the 13th came on a Monday that year. And it does seem as though we have had some minor bad luck on most of our anniversaries. Those stories are in my blog posts, too. 

This year was no exception.

I have been sick for weeks with the coughing virus that's going around. Johnny gave it to me. Of course, he's well now. It's a good thing, too, because the weather has been challenging. I talked him into staying home on the 13th to celebrate our anniversary with me. All seemed to be going well at first. We watched a wonderful movie on the Roku TV that son Steve had given us and installed when they came here for the Christmas holidays. We had no clue how to use it, of course, so grandson Kestrel wrote out instructions in a little book and left it for us with the tv. Thank goodness for that little book. Johnny figured it out and we spent the afternoon watching The Greatest Showman. All was well until I went to the bathroom afterwards and discovered that we had no water. 

Johnny investigated the possibilities and discovered a broken pipe between well and house. Of course, he got stuck in his EZ Go in the snow and I was enlisted to pull him out with the tractor, which I have not driven in ages. That went well and I was able to take my coughing body back to the house while he gathered up all sorts of tools and, eventually, fixed the broken pipe. 

The only other still-unresolved problem is the bathroom tub drain doesn't drain and he's spending Valentine's Day working on that.

I guess it just shows if we can survive our Friday-the-13th-on-Monday anniversary each year, we can stick together for 58 years... and counting. 

A Bad Start to 2025

 

 

 There is no way to sugar coat the way this year has begun, both for us and for our nation.

 We don't usually get sick but we are. Johnny has had a coughing virus for a month. Now I have it. Just about everyone we know locally has or has had this bug. On top of that, I injured my back the first day Johnny was up in Seattle and have had painful sciatica down my right leg ever since. Fortunately, our electric EZ Go golf carts are very comfortable on my sore hip and so I've been doing chores via EZ Go for a month. But the relief is only while I'm in the cart so most of the time, I'm in pain. I don't do pain well. I do think it is slightly better... at least I'm not slathering it with pain relief salve constantly.

But worse is the state of our nation, now in the charge of a lunatic with a band of self-serving, wealthy lunatics carrying out their plans to gut the government of laws and any official that doesn't carry out their cruel directives. They have managed to buy the news media so most Americans apparently don't realize what's happening. That may change as soon as prices skyrocket, as they will have to do with the tariffs being imposed and all the seasonal workers being shipped out of the country. I doubt the fat cats in Washington will be picking produce in their places. Not that high prices mean anything but higher profits for them and their companies. It's only ordinary, non-billionaire Americans, who will pay the price. And, so far, they are mostly clueless.

So what's a person to do? I write letters to my congress folk, sign petitions, try to educate the people who are willing to listen (of whom there are precious few), and mostly just associate with and support our friends who are as outraged as are we. And that includes all of our left-leaning, progressive, college-educated friends... a group that includes nearly all our friends. If and when the tv addicts and Elon Musk worshipers will figure out there's a problem, I don't know.

Meanwhile, back on the farm, we just keep keeping on. This morning the ground is covered in snow. The world always looks so fresh and beautiful in snow. I am trying not to worry about how my hip-saving EZ Go will perform in deep snow. And what I will do if it won't. The goats should be worried, too, but they have the advantage of living in the present and trusting that their slave (me) will get to the barn to feed them. 

So I will take a clue from our supposedly less intelligent livestock and just enjoy the beauty of our newly-white world for a spell... and take photos... from inside my EZ Go, while it can still navigate this lovely, white world.

 

  

Too Many Bird Counts

 December was full of bird counts, both live ones (raptor routes and Christmas Bird Counts) and a dead one (Beached Bird survey). The weather and tides were not very cooperative. The tides only matter on our once-a-month Beached Bird Survey, but during this season of King Tides, that matters a lot. We can only walk along the beach looking for washed-in dead birds when the tide and waves are not apt to grab us and haul us out to sea. Since our beach is bordered by a very high dune that we would not be able to climb, it is very important to go when the ocean is a safe distance away. Thank goodness for tide tables. They tell me when the tide is going out and how high it will be when we must arrive at the beach... on a day when it's not pouring rain and blowing sand. Those conditions were not met until December 9th.

Meanwhile, we hit a reasonably clear day for our North Santiam Raptor route on December 5th. That 72 mile route took us 6 hours.

 The next day, we had finished morning farm chores and were about to start on the rest of the day's activities when Johnny said, "I just saw two Cooper's hawks fly across the driveway. Let's do our Grand Ronde raptor route!" The Grand Ronde route starts in our driveway and wanders through Grand Ronde, Willamina and Sheridan for 69 miles. So off we went.

  I always take photos of the raptors (hawks and eagles, basically) that we're not able to identify with certainty. At home I put my photos on the computer and bring them up or lighten them or do whatever it takes that the computer can do to make the bird recognizable.

Here's one of those distant birds. It was in Shenk Wetlands where we often see a Harrier and we thought that's what this must be, but even through the scope, it was hard to tell for sure. My camera though, brought it up closer and closer until it finally posed enough to see the white rump and Harrier face.

 Then on Monday, December 9th, all the signs pointed to a reasonably safe and dry beach experience so off we went to Pacific City and Bob Straub Park for our monthly Beached Bird Survey. We don't usually get very many washed-in birds on this beach but the month before we had nine, thanks to the wild seas. Most were Northern Fulmars, which we have never had before. 

This month we were hopeful of having a restful walk on the beach under sunny skies and no wind. We got the sunny skies and no wind, but, alas, the wild seas were still throwing dead birds up on the sand. This day there were six. All but one was a Northern Fulmar. Our usual one hour stroll with a bird or two became almost 3 hours. We take lots of measurements and follow the key in our Beached Bird guide book to identify the bird. And we take photos. They are not as scenic as the ones on our raptor routes. Here is one of the Northern Fulmars: 

  And the dune: 

 

And then it was Back to wreath making and Christmas light stringing before scouting for the first Christmas Bird Count (an Audubon tradition) scheduled for December 16, weather permitting. On the 14th we drove up into our sector of the count circle to check out the road situation. Alas, there was a logging operation in the area we drive up to access our sector. So we would have to go the long way around, nearly to Mt. Hebo, to get to our count area on count day. Rats.

And so we did... and hit snow. But it was passable and turned to rain in the lower areas. The birds, however, were elsewhere for the most part, having wings and being able to fly to better weather. I took few photos. And few of those were recognizable. There were flocks of Golden-crowned Kinglets feeding in the roadway, where kinglets never feed. I had to show my blurry photos, taken through the windshield in the rain, to our coordinator to find out that yes, they were kinglets and most everyone else had seen kinglets feeding on the ground in their sectors of the circle, too. How odd. Kinglets are supposed to be gleaning bugs at the tops of trees. I guess if the bugs are not up there... neither are the kinglets.

 The only birds I photographed that look like they should were the Varied Thrushes, of which there were many feeding by the roadside.

Sunday, December 22 was our second and last Audubon Christmas Bird Count. Called the Yamhill Valley count, it takes place in McMinnville and the hills near Sheridan. We have a friend, Mary, who lives inside our "Upper Gopher Valley" sector and does the count with us. So it's a fun count, whether we see many birds or not. The weather was damp but not pouring and the birds were fairly cooperative.

Very near  Mary's woodland home we heard the drumming of a woodpecker. It took us a very long time to figure out where the sound was coming from, then once we spotted the distant woodpecker, what it was. My camera helped considerably, drawing it up close.

... A Hairy Woodpecker!

 Near the end of our route, we came across a very wet and bedraggled juvenile Red-tailed Hawk perched on a snag, looking miserable in the cold, wet weather. We all agreed it was time to get out of the cold and the rain and go home.

 

 

 

On the 23rd, we were cleaning and cooking and preparing for our California kids and grandkids plus local friends to come for Christmas Eve dinner on the 24th. We had a great time, punctuated by unexpected excitement on Christmas night. That story is told in a previous blog post, "Twas the Night After Christmas".

2025 has begun with strange weather around the country: snow on the east coast and fires in southern California. There is good news, too, with our Steve and Kevin's childhood friend Brad recovering from his horrific traffic accident in November; Brad's brother Steve in Santa Monica, California, has so far not been evacuated for fire danger. Nor has our nephew Rob and family in the Los Angeles area. Meanwhile, Johnny is in Seattle helping son Kevin with a week's worth of projects while I tend the farm alone. So far, so good. When he gets back, we have two raptor routes to do... when the weather permits. We already managed to do our monthly beached bird survey on January 9th, with only one beached bird!

Here's hoping the rest of 2025 is kind to all of us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Postscript to The Night After Christmas

 Time marches on as I frantically chase after it, trying to catch up. Johnny is much faster than I. That tree that fell across our drive on Christmas night is still there... missing the entire section that was blocking our route to the barn. Johnny took care of that with his biggest chain saw and log roller gizmo (have no idea what it's called) in one long day.

 

 

Here's the California family admiring Grandpa's work. It was a great Christmas week with them ... off and on... safely in a bnb on the coast during the tree excitement.

 

 

 

Although poplar is not the greatest firewood, look how pretty it is! I think they would make great tables... or toys for goats to jump on...

 

 

 

 

 

                                                         

                                                     

The Night After Christmas

Twas the night after Christmas, when all through the house, 

Not a creature was stirring, not even a louse.

Stockings were hung by the chimney with care

In hopes that they'd dry out and stink less out there.

Johnny and I were all snug in our bed

While visions of grandchildren danced in our heads

Johnny in warm socks and Linda with hot pad

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap

When right in their room there arose such a clatter

That Linda woke Johnny to tend to the matter.

"There's a cat in the house! It scratched our door open.

Go find it!" She poked him until his eyes opened.

"It's hail on the roof or a branch that is whining"

...then noticed the clock was not shining...

"The power is out" he said with a shrug.

 "Go back to sleep. Will be OK tomorrow."

But Linda kept poking and prodding, so he

Climbed out of bed to search with a flashlight

But no cat was found nor anything else

"Go back to sleep," he said when returning,

"I'm going to bed," ...but Linda kept churning.

When the sky started to brighten, she got up and dressed

And went to feed critters and look for some damage

... None seen and no hail... after all it was 50!

Small limbs were down but not near the house

...She tripped over a cat: it was stalking a mouse...

Grandma found nothing that could give such a fright

As she had been given in the wee hours of night.

But later Johnny found it... the source of the noise

Not a cat nor hail... Not twigs on the rooftop...

Friends, children, grandchildren and pup -- come out...

And know when Grandma Linda says "Look out!"...

LOOK OUT!!!

 

The noise Grandma Linda heard was not a cat scratching on the bedroom door. It was a tree breaking off in the front yard and falling across the front driveway. A very large trunk of the very tall poplar tree in our front yard. After the noise, I (Grandma Linda) could not fall asleep, so I turned on the light and wrote the first part of the above poem. I finished after Johnny had found the source of the noise and showed me. Son Steve and family were due to arrive that morning... and they did. I had them all, plus friend Mary, stand in the back yard while I took their photo and read them the poem. 

 

 

Then we all trooped out to the front yard and saw the huge trunk lying across our driveway, the fence between us and the neighbors in front of us, and for many feet into their property.

I had not seen it when I went to the barn that morning to milk and feed goats. Johnny came out and moved branches off our long driveway from the road so the kids could drive in, then discovered the huge tree across the front drive to the barn. He came to the barn and said, "I moved the stuff off the driveway that I could, but I'll need help with one." After I finished chores, he led me up the drive to the fallen poplar, again saying "I'll need help with this one." 

Indeed!!

 Since grandson Kestrel and son Steve, atop the log, are both 6 feet tall, I think it's more fair to check out the size of the trunk in comparison with Johnny and Jupiter...

Jupiter is a big dog, and not in the least intimidated by this tree...

 I have no idea how we will get this mammoth tree off our driveway. It did *not* come down across a power line. Nineteen thousand PGE customers were out of power the day after Christmas thanks to the wind storm Christmas night. Our power came back on late the next evening. 

                                          Happy Christmas Week!!