Wag It Camp...

For the third year in a row, Bravo and I attended Wag It Camp in New Hampshire. It is held at a Catholic children's summer camp. Picture it this way... a pristine lake boasting  a clean sand beach, with a view of the White Mountains in the distance. The buildings are all painted brilliant white, with deep forest green trim and matching green metal roof tops. There are fields and woods and to explore. Canada geese, ducks and loons call from the lake. There were 20 or so people there, with their canine companions. Each day there are a variety of classes to choose from, but there is also some "down time," so one can rest, read, take a walk or a swim. Three meals a day are provided, meals I neither have to plan, cook, or clean up after. We sleep in cabins, snug and safe. This year the weather was perfect. Cool in the mornings and evenings, warm enough in the middle of the day to make a swim feel just right.  Bravo likes to swim with me, and race on the beach, too.

 We took classes in tracking, water obstacles, (where the dog swims around a post in the water, navigates hoops and "heels" while it is swimming and the handler is walking,) advanced tricks, (where he learned to pull a tissue out of a box, pull a cabinet door open, and walk with his front feet rolling a large wooden spool as he went.  We entered some competitions in obstacles, dog ball and scent work.

He won a few prizes. Better than that, he seemed so happy to be with me in the ring.

We shared our cabin with our friends Rita and Dee, and their dogs, Marcus and JoJo. They played a bit during down time.

And posed for pictures like good dogs. 

 I like Bravo's smile in the above shot.

We spend almost all our time together, and it's a gift. In my busy life, a few days to just be with my dog, and other people who love their dogs (almost) as much as I do, in a beautiful place, is so sweet.

Afternoons, standing with friends in the lake, with a glass of wine in hand, I made a mental note to store up the sunshine, the water, the sand under my toes, and the warm conversation, to remember during some January blizzard. I wonder if Bravo will remember, too?

Farmlette happenings...

In the early spring I wait excitedly for the first faint flush of green to appear in the pasture.The animals, do, too.

Once the greening begins, the grass (and weeds) grow at an astonishing rate. Now that we no longer have a horse, the grass becomes very tall. So tall, in spots, that when the donkeys are standing in it, I cannot see them at all. This can be cause for occasional alarm, until they move a bit and I catch a glimpse of their ear tips. Until that happens I have visions of them dancing up and down the road, dodging cars and marauding neighbors flower beds.(In truth, they have never escaped the fence, but that doesn't mean I don't worry that they might.) At any rate, in late summer the grass begins to look rather ragged and disreputable. Right about that time trusty Scott can be depended on to appear on his tractor. 

As soon as he was inside the gate this weekend, it took Jezebel about 10 seconds to march over and investigate. The men shared a beer and conversation, the donkey hung out socializing and demanding bum scratches.

Soon the tractor roared to life, and the mower evened up all the ragged greenery. It's a project, and we are most grateful for our kind and talented friend and his marvelous mower.

What remains looks lush and smooth. The hoof stock seem delighted, because they can reach the tender green stuff that the tall, drying, blades were hiding. The chickens like it, too, finding chopped up bugs and such, they range the entire area, busy and happy.

Speaking of chickens, I wanted to share their summer project with you. They have been landscaping for me. You see, when we clean out the goat cozy and donkey dorm every few days, we deposit 2-3 large wheel barrow loads of shavings, cast off hay and ... well... poop, into a designated pile. The pile tends to be close to the shed, because in the snow it can be tricky to push the barrow very far. Soon the pile is 5 tall or so, and not the most attractive feature of our yard. So, I put the chickens to work on it. Every day or so I sprinkle a few handfuls of cracked corn on the pile. The girls do the rest.

Those little legs might not look like much to you, but they are powerful. As the hens seek out the grain I've tossed, and hidden bugs and seeds, they kick busily. What used to be a tall mound is now a smooth, flat, area. Green things are already starting to grow there.  We will move the manure pile to a different spot for the fall and winter, and as this area continues to decompose, it will soon be covered in grass. Just one more reason to appreciate my poultry pals.

This dahlia was sent to me in error when I ordered something else. The blossom is enormous, and I am enchanted by this pretty mistake.

The passion flower vine I bought on a whim has also been a source of beauty this summer.

And didn't this picture turn out nicely? I love the blur of color in the background.

One more... I poked my head in the duck house and was able to catch mama duck before she puffed up and hissed me away. I am beginning to doubt that her eggs will hatch, but she is still devoted to her plan, so I am leaving her be.

Now it's time to go clean some animal houses. I'll take my camera with me, you never know when someone will strike a charming pose.
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Unsupervised...

For the past several months, Chris and I have experienced moments of giddy happiness, when we find ourselves together, alone, in a state which have come to call, "unsupervised." It began last March, when we took a vacation to Florida to celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary. We realized that we were beholding to no one. There wasn't a soul waiting for us to do anything, or be anywhere, it was quite freeing and just plain fun. It was, and is, slightly reminiscent of our early married days, but better, somehow. We are reveling in these moments. We do what we want, when we want. We indulge in weekend naps, dine when we wish on what we wish, go for drives in the country,  hang out at the beach, or get a list of chores done around the farmlette.

One such "unsupervised" thing is a now 5-year tradition of what Chris calls, "daily love offerings."  It all began on a bright August morning shortly after I opened my home business. Chris had kissed me goodbye and headed out to work. On the way to his car he found a perfect, brilliant orange, maple leaf framed on the green summer grass. It caught his eye, and he scooped it, returned to the house and left it on the middle of my grooming table.  An hour or so later, when I went in to work, I saw the leaf and was delighted by the gift of it. I thanked him. His story is that when he realized I was tickled by finding a surprise on my table, he became 'Pavlov's husband,' and began to leave me a little something every single day. It might be a tube of lip balm, or an upscale magazine for the studio. It might be a dozen roses, or a box of chocolates. Sometimes its a toy for my dog or a treat for a donkey.One one memorable day it was a package of horribly unattractive white, cotton, "granny panties," which were discovered by our daughters then-boyfriend-now-husband, before I saw them. Some people are aghast at the complete and total decadence of this tradition. However, Chris seems to enjoy the challenge of finding a little something to delight me each day, and I certainly relish the joy of being showered with thoughtful gifts. If he travels, he hides a daily surprise and lets me know where to find it. If I travel, I find treasures tucked in my luggage. Yesterday's daily love offering, (D.L.O.) was a doozie.

This is commonly known as a grain shovel. I have had one and used it hard for years. It's perfect for cleaning my chicken coop. The short handle is good in a tight space, and the deep sides allow me to scoop up a lot of shavings with every swipe. The grip had broken off mine a few years back, but I still used it. Then the handle separated from the blade last week when we were using it. It was a bit like losing an old friend. I began using the blade end like a giant dust pan, but it, too, is disintegrating. So imagine my delight when my daily love offering was a brand new shovel. This is my idea of a romantic gift. Luckily, my husband knows me well enough to understand that, too. Just one more example of being unsupervised, and loving every minute. 

Excellent Friday...

The work day started out with a new customer bringing in her Bichon to be groomed. Tucked under her arm was a 3 month old French Bulldog puppy. Not much bigger than a coffee can, it dangled over her forearm, all ears and cuteness. The lady generously let us hold the wee thing and even sneak a few kisses. That was a nice beginning. The rest of the day went quite smoothly, we even had time to wash my Bravo dog, and now he smells delicious.

 We have been working late every day for weeks, but tonight we were through by 4:00. This was good because we had a worry. One of our customers is an older gentleman who lives alone. We had been trying to call him today, but there was no response. So we drove to his  house. We rang the bell, peered in the windows. Everything neat as a pin, but no dog to be seen, and no answer.  So we went to his neighbors house. There we found out that the gentleman had been ill, but is safely in a rehabilitation. Much relieved, we hatched a plan to go visit him soon.

Next we headed off to the Farmers Market.  It's a summer tradition we cherish, but have not had a chance to go yet all season.  We were not disappointed.

Musicians sent lovely music floating across the common. Kids played and raced about.

 A talented potter made magic happen before our eyes, and patiently answered a curious little girls questions about his craft.

When Rachel and I stopped to admire a handsome baby, the daddy kindly let Rachel hold him. He was beyond adorable, and smelled like baby.We were both entranced.

We brought home some treats for supper.

Delicious fresh beans, corn picked this afternoon, and a tasty baguette. I already had some pork chops from a pig we raised here thawed and marinating, ready for the grill.  

 I poured some good olive oil in a little bowl, and then crushed a few cloves of garlic into it. I added a splash of balsamic vinegar, all the while remembering the first time I had bread with a good, garlic infused oil.  I was in Texas with my friend Chez at a grooming convention. We slipped out and drove around until we found an Italian restaurant. They brought us delicious bread with garlic oil, and I had rarely ever eaten anything so tasty. I could have happily skipped my meal that night, and just feasted on the bread and oil. Now I fix it for a special treat from time to time, and savor the food as much as the memory.

I brought a tray with everything we needed for supper out to the picnic table. I put the corn on the grill, and we had our first "silly corn" of the season. My niece Aimee taught me how to make this. We've tweaked it a little, but basically it's roasted corn, brushed with mayonnaise, then sprinkled with fresh cilantro, a little Adobo seasoning, and topped off with a generous squeeze of fresh lime juice. It's so good it's silly. We enjoyed our farmers market feast, watching the goats frolic and donkeys graze.

When the rosy sun settled behind the trees it was time to tuck in all the animals. As I locked up the poultry we heard two owls serenading from the woods. The duck coop boasts two mama ducks sitting on eggs, and a proud father duck supervising. I like knowing they are safe from the creatures of the night in their snug little house. 

And then we are snug in ours, and an excellent Friday is done. 

Things planted...

I can feel summer aging. It seems to have only just arrived, but signs of it's passing are apparent. Crickets chirp, the evenings are growing shorter, black eyed Susan and Queen Ann's Lace bloom along the roads. The birds are no longer singing their mating songs. Tall grasses are tasseled with seeds.

But my gardens are filled with the blossoms of things I planted this spring, tucking each seedling in with a dose of hope.

Portulaca, which I plant in honor of my mother-in-law, Vernice, because she loved it.

The Cosmo's, which remind me of my sister, Dicy, who used to have riots of them in the gardens of her home.

Giant dahlias which were sent to me in error when I ordered a pink pussy willow.

 Brilliant gladiolas.

Happy zinnias, each bloom lasting for ages.

Cone flowers.

Buckets of petunia's, which my Grampy Nim loved.

I appreciate them all. But what really shines? The flowers planted by the wild birds.

They outshine my efforts. Even their placement is perfect. The birds are marvelous at planting.

Favorite kind of day...

It was an excellent sort of day, in many ways. First, when I woke up I was a little chilly. We had a fan in the  window, and it was blowing cool, dry,  slightly crisp air into the room. It felt invigorating. I did my regular chores, and then tackled a few projects.

I got the goatie girls up on the milk stand, and trimmed their hooves. I put fly repellent on them, wormed them, and gave them each a huge capsule the vet had left for me called a copper bolus. This consists of copper shavings crammed into a gel cap. The fragments of copper lodge in the goats stomach and are slowly absorbed. Copper is an important nutrient and this helps keep my girls healthy. Bliss gobbled hers down in the cookie I disguised it in. Spirit was more suspicious, but I prevailed in the end.

That task completed, I moved on to cleaning the Silky chickens coop.

This is sort of a fun project. The coop is so darn cute, as are the inhabitants. Since it is small, I have to do a little stooping, reaching and contorting, but the job does not take long. And when it's done, it looks so nice.

While I worked the Silky's pottered about the yard, and enjoyed the sun.

Chris joined me outside, and sweetly offered to help me clean the goat cozy and donkey dorm. It's so much easier when we do it together. I clean out the low roofed goat room, tossing the soiled shavings into the donkey dorm, and Chris fills the barrow and hauls it away.  I swept down a lot of cobwebs... I can't ever keep up with them.

The shed needed some repairs, and we've been putting them off.  Today Chris gamely suggested we tackle them. The animals had been rubbing on one wall, and had actually pushed the bottom of it out about six inches off the foundation.  Chris got it back in alignment, and then put some long screws in to hold things in place.  Next he hauled up one of the three heavy rubber mats that make up the floor of the shed. These things are awkward to move, and weigh much more than you might expect.  When we had rabbits, and some got loose, they dug holes under one side of the shed. One of the rubber mats went from being flat and even to dipping down low on one side where the rabbits had excavated.  This made it very tricky to clean.  So Chris moved the mat, and then we filled the holes the bad bunnies had dug with sand. He made everything smooth with the back of a rake, and then wrestled the mat back.  There were a couple loose boards he screwed back into place, and he took down the two hay racks that have always hung on the walls. After Bliss got her head stuck in one this spring, I decided they had to go. I'll come up with a safer plan this winter.

Having crossed many things off the "to do" list, we took a break to enjoy the lovely day and have a little lunch.  Chris grilled some hot dogs and we enjoyed being in our pretty yard at our well-loved picnic table. One of our fun neighbor kids dropped by.

Chris got him an ice cream sandwich and we chatted. He is headed out for a trip with his grand parents. Chris reached into his wallet and handed him $10.  "A guy needs a little walking around money when he goes on an adventure," he told him.  My heart swelled. I married the nicest man. And I got to spend an entire day with him, working side by side.

The cherry on the cake of my day was when, this evening, we got to witness Abraham and Jezebel (pictured here) playing.  I think that because she lived without another donkey for most of her life, Jezebel seems confused by the concept of play. But tonight she and Abraham nipped and kicked and reared and bucked. It wasn't as wild and rough as when he and Sarah romp, but it was a good start.

We shared supper at picnic table, too, and sat outside until after the sun went down. As darkness settled over our quiet little corner of the world, we felt glad. Happy to be together, and pleased to have gotten many chores taken care of. This was my favorite kind of day.

Heavy equipment...

A few months ago the farrier told me that if I put in a paddock with crushed stone or sand, it would keep the donkeys out of the mud during the wet seasons in Maine. Since donkeys are designed to live in arid climates, their hooves suffer with all the moisture here. I told my neighbor about it, and she told me she knew a contractor who could help me out. He was supposed to be here in early June, but due to the very wet spring, many contractors are running way behind. My neighbor called him for me again recently, and today he arrived, with a big dump truck and an excavator. I had locked the goats up in their cozy, and the donkeys were in the back yard. I opened the gate to the pasture and the big truck and trailer came right in.

The goats were very curious.

It was kind of fun to watch the men and equipment dig and move dirt while I worked. 

After all the dirt was moved and smoothed, a dump truck full of sand was delivered.

18 yards of sand, arranged so it will drain well in bad weather.

The animals were cranky from their change of schedule, so the moment the men and equipment left, I let everyone back into the pasture.  They immediately headed for the smooth sand.

They tripped about happily leaving hoof prints everywhere.
Later this afternoon we had a good rain, that will be a start to get it all packed down.

Now we need fence and a gate, and hopefully the donkeys hooves will be grateful for the new, dry, footing.

Turning of time...

Five years ago this week I opened the front door of our home to a newly re-vamped porch. We had turned this once under-utilized space into my dream grooming studio.Leaving my previous position was wrenching, and it was a leap of faith for me to start a grooming shop in the middle of nowhere. In business, the mantra is "location, location, location." My venue would make business people roll their eyes so hard they'd get a head ache. Despite this, my little place has been busy since that first day. Now it supports not only me, but my daughter, as well.  My morning commute is a breeze, I spend every day working with my best friend, and our customers are almost all delightful. I can see my goats, donkeys, chickens and ducks outside the window beside my work area. I feel lucky every, single, day. The years have gone by in a blink.

That is how time is, and I was recently reminded of that. 37 years ago I made a friend in college. She was petite and perky, creative and funny. We both loved to see the world through the lens of our cameras. We have kept in touch all this time, but I have not seen her in person for 28 years.  This weekend she, her husband and handsome son came to visit.  I am sad we didn't get a better picture, the one we got is pretty awful of me, but I'll share it anyway. It was her birthday. I got up early and made her a family favorite, "icebox cake." Nabisco chocolate wafer cookies layered and frosted with whipped cream, then chilled for several hours. The thin, crisp wafers absorb the moisture in the whipped cream, the end result is a simple but delicious treat.

Later that night we cooked lobsters and fresh corn. We warmed up Italian bread, then served it all

at the picnic table. Afterwards we enjoyed the cake. In between there was a lot of conversation and catching up, but the span of years between our last meeting and now seemed to be a fraction of what they really are.

Time is funny that way. It flits and flutters, like a Painted Lady butterfly. Bright, beautiful, hard to pin down. It is good to stop and remember... the beginnings of new chapters, the start of long time friendships. From past to present, all the goodness in between.