Farmlette events...

 Three weeks ago, two of our goats, Grace and Glory, went to live at a friend's house. Her elderly goats had passed and she missed them. Grace was here as a dairy goat but hated being milked. My friend wanted goats for pets, not milking, so this seemed a good fit. Since goats are herd creatures, I didn't want her to be alone, so I sent her daughter Glory with her. They are very bonded, and I thought they would be happy in this new place. 

Livestock can be unpredictable, and Grace was startled the first morning at her new place. Then she found a weak spot in the fence and busted out. Instead of staying close to her daughter, who was still in the pasture, she headed down the driveway. Her new owner followed. A few houses down, the goat saw some cows and approached them. They chased her into the woods and disappeared. Her new owner, her neighbors, Chris, and I searched for her daily. She was seen from time to time, just 100 yards from where she should have been, but no one could catch her. The story goes on, with lots of emotional ups and downs but there is a happy ending. A talented neighbor caught her, and Grace is now safe in her new home and reunited with her daughter. She's a little thinner and seems a bit confused, but she is eating and drinking, and all the humans who have worried, fretted, and searched feel a big sense of relief. 

Meanwhile, about 20 days ago, one of my lavender Orpington hens went broody. This means she was feeling in a family way and wanted to incubate some eggs. For about 18 days, she sat on the nest, only leaving for a few moments a day to eat, drink, and eliminate. She was a dedicated mother-to-be. Then another chicken decided to go broody, too and wedged into the first chicken's nest.  I tried to discourage this but failed. A few days later, two eggs hatched. The hen who had carefully tended and warmed those eggs claimed the adorable chicks as her own. So did the hen that only dedicated two days to their care. 

When it is time to eat, both hens call the chicks. Both hens pick up morsels of food and hold it so the chicks can grab it. And when it's time to rest... 

both hens snuggle in a nest box, wing to wing. The chicks burrow under their warm feathers to rest in safety. It makes me chuckle to think our new chicks have two mommies. 

"And what is so fair as a day in June..?"

 We have had stunning weather the past few days—the kind of weather we dream about in January when the temperature plummets, snow falls, and the wind howls. I spent the day puttering in the yard, planting annuals, weeding, and running the weed whacker. Chris mowed and did some repair work on the deck. We find we take more frequent breaks than we did when we were younger, but we still get a lot done. 

These irises come from some that once grew in my grandfather's garden. My cousin Christin kindly shared them with me. It is even more special when the flowers in my beds tell a story or trigger a memory.

The cats were happy to be with me and monitored my actions carefully. 

Cheryl brought three cows over to graze the pasture for a few months. Moxie has been here for the past two summers and feels right at home. Miriam (lying on the left) and Espresso (on the right) are new but have settled in nicely. They make excellent eye candy out grazing in the meadow. 

The bantam Cochin hen and rooster have a clutch of 6 chicks that are also delightful to watch. Mama and Papa hen talk to them in special voices, calling them when they find a fat grub or juicy moth to share. The chicks follow Mama everywhere, and when they are tired, she plops down, and they all snuggle under her ample feathers. There is nothing cuter than seeing little heads pop out from under her wings and chest, peering about with bright eyes. 

The laying hens have also hatched two wee chicks and are sitting on more eggs, so our poultry population should be increasing nicely. 

Yesterday, Rachel and I took the grandgirls to the Fiber Frolic in Windsor. We have been every year for around the last 8, and it is such fun. Fiber artists set up booths, selling yarn and kits and amazing crafted items. There are always interesting food trucks, too, and herding demonstrations, things for kids to do, and even some livestock. The Owlet was tickled to see rabbits and sheep. It was a delightful way to spend the day. 

The sign for my business was damaged in a wind storm last year. I bought an old claw foot bathtub and put it at the end of the driveway instead. I plant flowers in it during the growing season, and in the winter stuff it full of greens. It needed something more, but I wasn't quite sure what that "more" was. Then, last week, Rachel triumphantly brought me the gold leaf scissors that embellished the sign at Yankee Clipper, the business I worked for during our first eleven years in Maine. I loved that job and the friends I made there, and I always had a thing for those scissors. When the building was sold, the sign remained, then eventually was removed. The scissors were left lying by the side of the road. I was too cowardly to scoop them up. Rachel knew I wanted them, and knocked on the door and asked if she could take them. She was given permission, and now they adorn my whimsical bathtub planter. They are not in great shape, but I will enjoy them while I can. 

We ended this weekend with something sweet. Ice cream from the local stand. Chris suggested it, and I said no. Then I had second thoughts. Life is short, and summer is fleeting. I enjoyed every bite. 

Hen party..!

 This morning, the large laying hens were all gathered around the tiny chicken coop that houses the wee bantam chickens. They kept peering in the wee door and hanging out in the area they rarely visit. There was a lot of clucking going on. It looked like a party. 

When I peered in to check on the bantam Cochin hen who had been brooding a nest full of eggs, I found her fluffed up and glaring at me menacingly. 

I reached under her warm feathers and found... 

Six fluffy new chicks! Mama is carefully guarding and keeping them warm, and the rooster has not left the coop like usual. I think he is watching over his family. I shooed the big hens off and locked the little coop up to keep everyone safe. Welcome to FairWinds, chicks! 

Our little Owlet had her regular Saturday spend-the-night with us and enjoyed a pile of bacon and a bowl of raspberries for breakfast. Then she joined me for animal chores, tromping about in her teeny cowgirl boots. We showed her the new chicks, and she squealed with glee, "So cool!" 

Next, we trimmed all the goat's hooves, brushed them, put fly-repellent medication on them, and cleaned their house. 

Back inside for house chores, playtime, and a few snuggles. Every day is better when the Owlet is here to enjoy it with. 

On the wing...

 On a perfect spring day, sun-warmed and breeze-cooled, a Harris Hawk dipped off a tall tree branch and flew directly at me. Its wings spanned three feet, and its eyes stared unblinkingly into mine. I fought a flinch as it came closer and closer, then grinned ear to ear when the hawk landed firmly on my wrist. 

My brother-in-law, John and I were at New England Falconry in Woodstock, Vermont, participating in a falconry experience while our patient spouses looked on. (Chris took pictures and did a great job.) I joke that John and I are "bird nerds." He is an experienced birder, and I am merely fascinated by them. 

 It can be a bit tricky to capture a picture of John smiling. We caught several today because, wow, how could we not be delighted? 

An experienced and passionate licensed falconer was our instructor and guide. She shared some history of falconry, educated us about birds of prey, and shared her love and admiration for the animals she trains and handles. 

Today, we repeatedly sent the bird off, where it flew free, landing where it pleased. Then, with a whistle, the falconer called him in, where he would alight on our outstretched arm and remain there until we sent him off. Over and over, we were able to experience the thrill of watching the bird zoom toward us and admire him up close while he perched on our arms. 

For a spectacular hour today, we walked in a lovely field in Vermont and experienced something we had previously only dreamed of. A hawk on the wing, then on our gloves, glorious. 

Milestones, miniatures and good men...

 My calendar reminded me that last year, at this time, I had my right knee replaced. I had to rely on the calendar to make me remember it because I rarely think about my knee at all. And that is how well-functioning body parts are. We rarely contemplate breathing until we have an upper respiratory virus that makes doing so difficult, and we don't spend a lot of time pondering about how our tongues are working unless we happen to bite ours and notice how much that can hurt. My new knee feels quite normal and I celebrate it working so well. Earlier this week, I took a small tree that needed planting and a sturdy shovel and walked down an incline that used to be painful to navigate. I placed my foot on the shovel and pushed it into the newly thawed earth, turning over several scoops until I had a nice soft bed for the little tree to rest in. This action would have been impossible before my surgery. It was a small chore and didn't take much time, but it was eventful because it was pain-free. An excellent exclamation point to an arduous recovery. Yippee! 

When I get ready to write a blog post, I scroll through my photos and find something that might illustrate the idea jangling around inside my head. Lately, almost one hundred percent of my photos are of the wee grand girls, and since their faces are kept off social media, it limits my creativity. I will say that the toddler has reached a delightful phase where she loves to putter around the yard with me. Last year, she was a little fearful of the goats.  This year, she wades confidentially among them, helps me clean their cozy, and explores the yard, even climbing up the steep ramp to the platform we call "Billy Goat Gruff Bridge." There, she marches up and down in her cowboy boots, stomping a bold tattoo and grinning ear to ear at her independence. She chats, comments, and questions, pointing out the red "carnal" singing in the tree, thrilled when "BIG trucks!" go by, and laughing at the antics of the animals. Chores are a thousand times more fun with a garrulous girl by my side. 

Rachel and I chose a significant new piece of furniture for the grooming studio. It vaguely resembles a dining room sideboard but has two dog crates underneath. It replaces some flimsy metal crates and gives us an excellent, sturdy surface for hand tool storage. The drawback was that it needed a lot of assembly. Chris and Evans oh-so-kindly agreed to tackle the project. It was a generous gift of time and talent, and I am so grateful.

Evans is very good at building things. For my birthday, he sweetly gave me a fantastic new bluebird nest box that he made. Chris cut down a dead pine tree for me last week and left a tall stump. Tonight, he attached the new birdhouse to that trunk for me. It is in perfect line of sight from where I sit to work, and it will be a treat to watch new residents find and use it. 

This spring is shaping up nicely, and I am delighted by my ability to move comfortably, shadowed by my favorite toddler and supported by the talented and kind men in my life. 

Celebrations...

We call it the "Birthdaversary," and it rolls around every year on March 31st, which happens to be my birthday. Forty years ago, my then fiancé asked me what I wanted for my birthday. Desperately in love, I told him, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you." He is an expert at making my wishes come true and set to work arranging for us to elope on my birthday. And we did. 

 So, today, we celebrate forty years of dreams shared and accomplished, side by side. 

Marti Stone Photography

Marti Stone Photography

Like everyone else, we have experienced challenges and successes, tears and laughter. But mostly, we have had so much joy. We both feel grateful every day for the life we have created, for the peaceful home we share, and for the sweet relationships with our daughter and son-in-love and their healthy, happy children. Sometimes, we catch one another's eye at the dinner table and smile, surrounded by friends and family, the chatter of a toddler, and the cadence and rhythm of voices and laughter as we share a meal. It is riches beyond measure this life we live. 

A cold and the cold...

 I have a little cold. Usually, when I get a virus, I keep plugging along and stay sick for two weeks or more. When my husband or son-in-love get a virus, they rest like it's their job for 24 or 48 hours and get well fast. I'm a slow study, but I am trying to emulate them this time. It's good timing because the weekend weather was cold and stormy, and laying low was convenient. 

When we woke up yesterday, it was snowing. I got up, took the dogs out, and gave the chickens and goats water. I fed them, gave them treats, and filled the hay rack. Two inches of fresh snow lay on the ground. I came back inside and went right upstairs and snuggled into my warm bed with a good book. I stayed there for several hours, watching the snow fall and resting. We spent the rest of the day being quiet. We made popcorn and watched a movie. By evening, the snow had accumulated to about six inches, and the precipitation had turned to freezing rain. 

By the time we turned in for the night, ice had begun building up on every surface it encountered. I had trouble falling asleep, coughing, and sneezing because of my cold. As usual, my darling fell asleep instantly, so he did not hear the crashing of falling, ice-covered limbs outside. We lost electricity at ten thirty, and I realized it could be out for a long time. I forced myself to get up and stir the embers in the wood stove, adding kindling and stepping barefoot out into the storm to load my arms with wood. I stoked the stove and sat in the quiet dark until the flames caught. I wanted to ensure the fire was going so we would not wake to a cold house. I slept fitfully (so much for resting!), listening to the wind drilling ice against the windows and the occasional crash of falling branches. 

We woke this morning to a silent house. The background appliance sounds of the refrigerator humming and the quiet rumble of the furnace in the basement are usually unnoticed. Still, their absence makes the house feel different. The dogs became restless, and I suspect it was because the house sounded different. 

When I did chores, it was icy underfoot. I had to skate back to the garage to get a hammer to bash the ice off the latches to the goat cozy before I could open the door. The goats knew I was outside their door, carrying breakfast, and they let their disapproval of my delay be loudly known. When I finally wrestled the door open, they rushed out, giving me sideways glances as they dove into breakfast. I left the chickens safe in their coops. 

Huge limbs and fallen trees blocked the roads on either side of our house. A neighbor stopped his truck, pulled out a chainsaw, and cleared one side. We walked up the street and cut and hauled huge pine limbs that had fallen from our neighbor's tree into the street and onto our property. 

Back inside, we made mugs of tea and hot breakfast. We sat by the wood stove where it was warm and cozy. It was late morning before the power was restored. The washing machine resumed its interrupted cycle. I rinsed the dishes. We took welcome showers. The sky cleared, and everywhere there were sparkles. 

And hungry birds. 

To our surprise and delight, someone nipped in and plowed the driveway for us. It had been too frozen for the snowblower, and we had been dreading trying to scrape and shovel. The kindness warmed us.

We went out for a bite, awed to see how many trees were down in the neighborhood. There will be a lot of cleaning up for weeks to come. March is coming to an end, but winter is hanging tightly with its icy grip. I will be glad when my cold and THE cold pass.