The magic of paint...

Living in Maine, having a wood stove is, in my opinion, a necessity. And keeping matches near the stove is a handy thing to do. I had a black iron match box hanging on the wall, but I didn't like the way it looked. I found a white iron one and replaced it, but the shape wasn't really right.  During a recent antiquing trip my clever niece Aimee found a lovely old painted metal one, nicely chipped and worn. I bought it and brought it home. It was almost perfect. But not quite.

 

It occurred to me that it needed some ornamentation. And on the day that this occurred to me, my artist friend was going to be coming here to have her dogs groomed.  I called and asked if she would mind bringing her paints.

 

 





 

I love watching artists work. And I really love enjoying the work when it's done!

 

 

Now my match safe is perfect.



Spring...

Spring in Maine takes tiny baby steps as it approaches. In the last week we've lost most of the snow. I took the bulky ice grips off my heavy boots, (maybe a bit prematurely, the walk to the chicken coop is still a little slick.) Suddenly there are deer everywhere. They are nibbling on something, I'm not sure what. I am happy to see them.

 Flocks of Robin's are swooping in, chattering and looking for food.  A friend from the next town reported that the Red Wing Blackbirds were at her place today, singing their hearts out and making her feel alive. AND I have had a few male Bluebirds here, scouting the houses and singing prettily. There is MUD. Deep, slurpy, wet, cold mud. Which leads me to a story.  Sarah donkey has been wearing her very special boots for some time now. I finally got the bill for them, $215. I was fine with that, until I got to thinking, "I don't have boots that cost that much. But my DONKEY does!" There is something wrong with this, I'm sure of it. But still and all,  I've been following doctors orders to a "T", taking the boots off every 3 days, treating her hooves with tincture of iodine, then putting clean, white socks on her feet, and replacing the boots. I never let her bare hoof hit the ground during this time.

Tuesday the donkeys were exploring the pasture, as the snow and ice retreated. When I went out to do evening chores I found that one of Sarah's boots was missing. Her foot, which I have been keeping pristinely clean, was encased in a ball of mud as big as my head. I groaned, and then went on a hunt. I finally found her boot and her little sock, nearly buried in deep muck by the well head. I got it cleaned off, then chipped the mud off her wee foot. I cleaned and medicated her hoof, put a clean cotton sock over it, and put her expensive boot back on.  The next day the farrier was coming, and I figured he'd think I was slacking when he saw the mud residue on her foot, but instead he gave me a wonderful report.  "I'd say her hooves are healing 50% faster than I would expect." I almost did a little happy dance, wearing my $50 muck boots, right there in the wet pasture.

In this picture you see... chicken.  The top is grocery store bird, the bottom is breasts of chicken I hauled out of the freezer; home raised poultry. I find the comparison to be fascinating... the home raised birds have flesh that is so much more rosy. Next month a new flock of meat chicks will arrive, and will grow in our pasture, scratching in the dirt, taking dust baths, and growing, Growing, GROWING.

This week I was invited to a Mad Hatters Tea by a woman who used to be a customer, until her dogs went to the great beyond. But we are still friends. The invitation said I was to bring hilarity and haberdashery. I'm not much of a hat person, but I rose to the occasion. With help from Chris, who surprised me with a funny top hat from the party store. I used some creativity and made it my own.

The party was rife with finger sandwiches, tea (of course!) and delicious sweets.

Each fancy water glass had a tag...

There were tarts, eclairs and cupcakes. Every single thing delicious.

Meanwhile, the days grow longer, the song from the brook up the road roars more loudly, and spring takes baby steps away from the long Maine winter.

Good news...

Last fall I packed up my two doelings, Echo and Bliss, and took them to a farm to spend a little quality time with a buck. In the past I have brought a buck here, but I didn't want all my does impregnated, just my youngest two, so this seemed like a good plan. Until it didn't. The farmer called me after about two weeks and told me that Echo, my favorite of the two, was very sick with pneumonia.  He treated her with everything he had, and I consulted my veterinarian, but Echo succumbed to the illness.  The farmer was horribly apologetic, and though I was very sad, I know that things like this can happen.  A few weeks passed and he messaged me that Bliss had been bred, and I could come get her. So we did. She was fine and fit, and settled in nicely once home.

If a goat is bred and conceives, it is said that she has "settled." I was waiting to see if she had settled or was still "open." So I watched.  21 days after she was bred, her next estrous cycle would kick in if she had not conceived. She spent that day yelling her head off from dawn till dark. Calling in this way is one sign of estrous, and I was concerned. Having lost her sister, I was wondering if this entire event was simply doomed.

 For months I've been staring ominoiusly at her belly, trying to decide if it was getting larger. I have not been able to keep my eyes off her tiny udder, was it growing at all? She has remained fairly slim, though her appetite is ravenous. If she had conceived, she would be due to kid around April 18th. Surely she's be looking more plump by now? I kept thinking how sad it would be to not have a doe to milk this season, or a kid or two hopping and bopping about. I decided to put myself out of the misery of not knowing and invite my wonderful veterinarian to come and do an ultrasound.  She fit me in today.

Bliss was not exactly cooperative. The vet smeared copious amounts of lubricant over her belly, and tried to rub the ultrasound wand under her tummy. My naughty goat ignored the bucket of food I had provided and responded by squatting lower, and lower, making it difficult for the ultrasound machine to register what was going on inside. 



But the news was good.

 

I'm not sure what this image reveals, I think it's just the horns of the uterus, but sometime during the session the doctor saw a kid. And that is good enough for me.

It makes me happy to think there will be a kid (or maybe more!)  bouncing around the pasture this spring, being mischievous and making me laugh.

So there was good news at FairWinds today. Another sign of spring, kidding season will be here soon, and "we" are expecting.

A little adventure...

I was invited to a "girls weekend," by my friend Sumac. She lives in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, about a 2 1/2 hour drive from here. Our friend Rita was to join us, too, and yesterday we made it happen. My navigation system took me a tour of an amazing array of small, windy, country roads to get there. The snow was much deeper in the mountains than it is here, with banks towering over my truck as I wound my way there.

Once I arrived, we visited a bit, and then we set off to Mt. Washington. This is the tallest mountain in the northeastern United States, its lovely peak towering above the others in the range at 6,288 feet.
Sumac had kindly planned for us to go up the mountain in a snow coach.

Check out those treads!  As you can imagine, the ride was bumpy and kind of loud, but the coach was warm and comfortable, and that van climbed up, and up, over the deep snow pack, through the trees. We could see animal tracks along the way, the driver, Patrick, said there had been a bobcat sighted along the road, and it was probably its tracks which we were seeing.

It was a clear, beautiful day, with incredible visibility. Through the trees we could see the mountains all around us, frosted in sparkling white. As the truck climbed, the trees became smaller, only a few feet tall, and bent by the wind.  Though small, some of these trees are hundreds of years old. The climate here is inhospitable to life. The few plants that can grow are similar to the ones found in the arctic. Winds here have been measured as high as 231 miles per hour. They may have been higher than that, but the wind broke the machines meant to measure them.

 And then we parked.

 

 

 

My hair got BIG up on the mountain. And my heart soared, seeing the amazing views all around me. It was great to share it with wonderful women.

Later we upped the adventure a bit, when Sumac handed us snow shoes and we went on a trek of the land she and her husband recently bought and plan to build a home on.  When we paused our walk on the top of 3 or more feet of snow, it was completely silent.

We walked on, until we reached the river that etches over their land. And there we stood, listening to the rush of icy water under the snow. Magical.

There was a delicious meal to follow, a few glasses of excellent wine, and some good conversation. Truly time well spent.

I don't leave home lightly. Chris kindly stayed to care for the animals, and welcomed me back warmly. I love to be right here, but oh! I do I feel richer for my travels.

Here and gone...

 

Yesterday we were gone a while. After working almost every Saturday of my adult life, I take special glee in having most Saturdays off now. We ventured to Belfast, a sweet little coastal Maine town. It boasts the oldest shoe store in America, among other attractions.  

 

Our goal this trip was to visit the Farmers Market. It is held every Saturday, but we've only been there once. We were lured there especially because a friend had told us about special donuts. And though we have been dieting hard for weeks, the description of these donuts had us yearning to give them a try. They are made with potatoes as a key ingredient, and our friend told us about how light they were, moist and delicious. She regaled us with the list of flavors, cinnamon sugar, coconut, chocolate ganache, maple bacon, and more. 

We met Rachel and Evans there. I had kept their Opal puppy the night before because they had a late date, and I was to return her to them. I had enjoyed several hours of excellent pug snuggles (see below) while she was in my care, it was bittersweet to turn her over to them. She is a sweet, fun, pup, and I am enjoying every minute with her.

Once inside the Farmers Market, it was great fun to look around. There were vendors everywhere we looked, selling things like locally made ice cream,cheese, local meats, jewelry, stationary, crafts and more. And the donuts. They did NOT disappoint.

One booth that really caught my attention was covered with the most beautiful array of mushrooms I have ever seen in one place. My picture didn't do it justice. I wouldn't begin to know what to do with any of these, but maybe next time I'll buy some and experiment.

After the market we ran a few errands, and stocked up on groceries for the week. This is usually Chris' job, because its a chore I loath but he enjoys, Still, occasionally I join in. I snagged some tulips... and am glad.

Once back here I was entertained to see that Sarah had been enjoying her freshly cleaned Donkey Dorm.

She loves to indulge in a good roll when the shavings are fresh and sweet. The goats are still in coats, and with a new storm due to blow in tonight, I expect they'll be wearing them a bit longer.

 

 

 



Despite the wintery weather, the hens are starting to lay the occasional egg. This hen left her roomy coop, traversed across the icy back yard to the wee coop the Silky chickens live in. She then wedged her very large body through the snug door of the coop, and laid an egg. When I discovered her in the small coop, she had eaten all the food, drank all the water, and refused to exit or walk back across the snow to home. So I gathered her up and gave her a ride back.

 

The hens are looking very fit, and I am hoping we'll soon be deluged with eggs. I've been telling them about stew and cacciatore, trying to encourage them to up their production through lightly veiled threats. They seem unimpressed.

 

We had a light snow over the night, just a dusting, to frost everything and make it sparkly and pretty.

 

 

Bravo loves the new snow, and had a good romp in the pasture while I was doing chores. I love to see him running flat out, spraying an arch of snow behind him as he races. And when he pauses he takes my breath away. Such a handsome boy.

 

Here and gone. I enjoy both, (especially those donuts,) but here is best, after all.