morning chores for lily and violet

Note: I am still working on a borrowed laptop and cannot upload images or access the thousands of images stored on my broken laptop. But I found some draft posts stored in blogger, and a few have images already in place, so I'm posting this one composed in December 2013. Greetings from Memory Lane.

~~~~~

 

We all have our little tasks to do in the morning.

Today it was raining lightly, so breakfast was served in the little goat barn for the younger does.

"Please don't make us eat in the rain. Rain makes us sad."

Lily of the Valley assesses the overall quality of the hay by doing the crucial face-test, while Violet takes the single-stem approach for a finely-tuned analysis:

I guess it passed the test!

There's something about listening to animals eat.  It's just pleasant, I don't know why.

And if one is used to the steady and rhythmic

munch.

munch.

munch.

of horses, the sound of goats, with their equally steady but more rapid

munch,munch,munch,munch,munch

is very smile-producing.

Really, goats in general are very smile-producing, as many of your comments have indicated.

I am so happy you are enjoying the goats  :)

But hark!  Violet suddenly stops munching, and is all alertness.

It is the morning school bus, which picks up a gaggle of young children at the corner, about 400 feet downslope from the goat barn.

One of Violet's tasks is to supervise the loading and departure of the bus every day.

(Except weekends, of course.  Everyone deserves time off.)

Here they come.

There they go.

My work here is done.

Got any peanuts in that pocket?

~~~~~

many words few snaps

 

The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. `Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?' he asked.
`Begin at the beginning,' the King said gravely, `and go on till you come to the end: then stop.'                                              

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Lewis Carroll

Writing a blog post after a gap is tricky, because I've got to start somewhere. Every couple of days in July and August (until my laptop died and doing anything online became a faint memory) I started to compose a post, then thought I'd "better wait" until something: an interesting discovery, an item checked off the task list, a happy event. If not a Beginning, I wanted at least a Middle and an Ending. And I was determined not to write about the relentlessly unpleasant weather, because it was already getting far too much airplay in my head every single day.

Yet here I finally am, on a borrowed laptop, writing about weather, because...it's raining today, and it rained yesterday, real rain, hours of rain, for the first time in many weeks. Huzzah!

I am choosing to look at this rainy weekend as an Ending to a very long, too-hot, too-dry, too-humid Middle. So I am writing. Trying to write. Is anyone reading? If so, please wave in the comments. It's been a lonely Middle.

In retrospect, there was a lot of repair work undertaken in July and August, much of it physical, some of it planned. Time spent with the eye surgeon, the dentist, the veterinarian. There were basically two kinds of challenges: expected and unexpected. Here's one example:

Expected challenge: cataract surgery in July. I did as much prep as I could, because I knew there would be several weeks of post-surgical limitations such as never leaning down and never lifting anything over 15 pounds.

Unexpected challenge: not having my Occasional Helper here at all during the cataract recovery period to do any of the necessary leaning and lifting. (Actually, he's been unavailable through much of the Spring and Summer, for various unforeseen reasons.) In desperation - and having a strong inclination to keep my goats alive - I called friends who sent their own Helper over one afternoon to shift feed sacks for me. Bonus: now I've met someone else I can hire - when available between his other jobs - as a backup to the Occasional Helper. So there's a Happy Ending of sorts.

Violet waiting for someone - anyone - to move feed sacks. 

A few days before the eye surgery my neighbor AM came with his tractor for the next step in a project that's been in the works for over a year: a new Very Raised Bed built along the landing at the top of the driveway. Starting way back with the barn salvage in April 2024, a lot of work had gone into the new bed, constructing the lower layers of timber, brush, and shavings. But the top layer was to be the decomposing hay and manure that I've been curating for several years under one of the goats' roundtops. The decision to rebuild the barn meant that this roundtop could be dismantled, and AM and his tractor could scrape up load after load of that enriched material and carry it over to the landing. That was a mucky, sweaty, dirty job, but the day before my surgery I was out watering and planting that new raised bed. Late for planting? Yep. Planted anyway. Winter squash and sunflowers. And since planting=leaning, it had to be finished before the surgery. This has been a dreadful year for gardening, and if there was even a chance of seeing something green and growing, I was not going to let it pass for lack of effort. This was the kind of Ending that is also a Beginning.

squash blossom just before the rain yesterday

How is everything in your neck of the woods?

I hope your July and August have been lovely.

~~~~~

dispatch from the trenches

 

~~~~~

mornings

 

The best time to take photographs these days is 5:30 in the morning. This is also the best time to hang up the bird feeders, refresh the water troughs, trim a set of hooves, cart a hay bale out to the paddocks for distribution, and switch gates so that all the goats have a fair crack at the hay for a couple of hours, without fisticuffs. 

I confess I don't always have a tremendous amount of get up and go at that time of day, but knowing full well how much more uncomfortable it will be a couple of hours later, I generally get out there and do it.

Not everyday though. That's why today the picture above was taken closer to 9:00 AM, after a late start on chores, with sweat dripping off the ends of my hair and bouncing off my eyelashes. I felt a bit more like this day lily:

Still colorful though, right?

Stay cool, friends.

~~~~~

special delivery

I get a lot of deliveries. Without a vehicle, it's the only reliable way to Get Stuff Here. Some of the drivers will bring packages to the top of the driveway, which I very much appreciate. But I don't blame the drivers who choose to leave packages at the bottom of the driveway, and that's why there's a little plastic lawn chair visible from the road. In the Winter, I leave a sled down there.

Walking down the driveway to pick up a package, I spotted this:

I believe it's a foxglove, which I don't recall ever seeing here before.

Exciting stuff! 

Especially since it's in a place where the animals are not, so I don't have to try to transplant it to avoid accidental poisoning.

And so interesting:

This morning I also walked up the road a hundred feet or so, to check on a little patch of columbines in front of my Upper West Side paddock. Some years I've seen two or three colors of columbine there, but this year I saw only one color - a lovely purple. Today there are just three blossoms remaining, Here's one:

I hope you've got some flowers blooming wherever you are.

~~~~~

batch batch cooking

Tortellini pressure-cooked in sauce, ready for freezer.

I've been doing "batch" cooking for nearly as long as I've been cooking, because it always made sense: make the effort (and the mess) once, eat well, and have a few servings tucked in the freezer for another day. When I started using a "multi-cooker" - mine is a Gourmia brand, not the famed Instant Pot - I also started cooking batches in a sequence, with two or three things different things cooked over the course of an afternoon or even a couple of hours. For example, the first thing could be plain pasta, followed by a pot of bulgur, followed by winter squash or a pot of soup.

The speed of pressure cooking is what many people seem to focus on, and it's true that once you've waited several minutes for the pressure to come up, the actual cooking times are almost incredibly short and presumably energy-efficient compared to other methods. But a major advantage for me is the kind of attention needed: intermittent.  Compared to cooking in a regular pot on the stove, there isn't any hovering or stirring or keeping an eye on. This frees up bits of time for little tasks, such as slicing apples for the herd or dealing with a sliding pile of mail or folding the laundry. I'm still in the kitchen but  getting extra things done in addition to restocking the fridge and freezer. It makes the entire cooking endeavor feel more efficient and productive, and I love that.

Speaking of pasta, have I mentioned my new favorite shape? After decades of rotini fandom, a trip through the Aldi markdown aisle a couple of years ago led me to cavatappi:

And because I rarely have the chance to shop in Aldi, I bought a few boxes. By the time I'd worked out the best way to cook cavatappi in the Gourmia I had also created a new way to eat pasta: with a spritz of oil, a dollop of salsa, and a sprinkling of shredded sharp cheddar melted in. I've been cooking this pasta for two years now and have yet to put pasta sauce on it.

After running out of the Aldi boxes, I started looking for cavatappi online and couldn't find it anywhere. It seemed impossible, so I visited the Barilla website and started scrolling through pictures of their many pasta products. Behold:

Here's what cavatappi or cellentani looks like when it's been pressure-cooked for 3 minutes, then frozen, then thawed:

This week, in the interest of eating cold things, I've branched out from my usual salsa and cheddar method, and used the thawed pasta for a salad with tuna and mayo. If I'd had celery or frozen peas or corn, they would have gone in also, but it was good anyway. So good. This form of pasta just seems perfect to me: thick enough to have a good chewing texture but hollow, so not overly dense. Spiraled and ridged to hold whatever is added - salsa or mayo or even just butter. If you like rotini, I strongly recommend trying this. Hot or cold. Except today. Today is definitely a day for more cold pasta salad, at least here in Massachusetts.

~~~~~

more

Sambucus watching the rain from a cozy nest in the Peace Pavilion.

Another rainy night and day. So dark in the house that lamps are needed to see the other end of a room. Since morning chores it's been an indoor day, with my main responsibility being toweling off Moxie and Della every time they come in after brief forays in the saturated underbrush.

The barncams pay for themselves in terms of safety every single day, and on a rainy day (or night) they save me many uncomfortable trips just to check on the herd. Plus there's the entertainment value. After moving the cameras around from the laptop to check on every goat, usually from an overhead angle, it's always fun to suddenly have a face pop up right at lens-level.

Violet on her bench of choice.

Sorry to keep on and on about the rain.

It's the element underlying everything else here at the moment.

~~~~~

garden snaps

 The "Egyptian onions" or "walking onions" are on the move at last.

It took several years to get these established here, despite their mint-like reputation for vigorous spreading. This year they are looking very healthy, and are already dropping their heads to the ground to create more plants.

Two varieties of pole beans are starting to come up.

Some of the plants have already been destroyed by an unidentified critter.

Very unfortunate.

Also unfortunate is that something got into the terrace garden in the last 48 hours and munched off the top couple of feet of many of my thornless raspberry plants, which I've spent years encouraging. Based on the height of the browse line it almost has to be deer damage, which has never been an issue here before.

In happier news, there are a few more spiderworts blooming up by the barn:

And for everyone who has been sharing pictures of their tomato plants, here are some of mine, seeded directly into one of the tall metal beds back on the 19th of May:

Hang in there, little tomato plants!

This last one is not really a garden picture, but under the category "Reasons to Carry a Hand Lens" here is Prunella vulgaris, the very common little "heal-all" plant, growing along one of my paths between paddocks and house:

I hope your gardens are doing well.

~~~~~

update

Lately we've been having rain.

Lots of rain.

For everyone whose gardens or lawns are going totally wild:

I see you.

Most of this happened in one week:

 But! This week we had a forecast of three days in a row with only a minimal chance of rain - yesterday was the third day - and I've tried to make a bit of progress on the many seasonal tasks that are way behind schedule. Not just because of the weather. My Occasional Helper has been unavailable for many of his Tuesday/Thursday visits lately. This means that when he does come, the priority is just the heavy lifting that's piled up; not the seasonal tasks. I'm glad he gets here at all, of course, and he has often stepped up for an unforeseen or unusual task, even if not on his regular workdays, which I'm very, very grateful for. But my gosh, am I ever feeling this gardening season slipping away from me. It's already too late for some of my carefully planned projects, and I've reached a point in my life where "I'll have to get to that next year" doesn't sit well.

Oh well, all I can do is all I can do, and today I am planting beans before the rain that's expected this afternoon, so there's that!

Thank gods for the perennials planted over the years, like this amsonia. It grows naturally in a tidy clump which has helped it remain upright despite all the rain.

My spiderwort plants, which do not grow in a tidy clump but rather seem to fling themselves all over the garden, have been sadly flattened by repeated rainstorms, despite my efforts to prop them up. Yesterday I was thinking there might not be any spiderwort flowers this year, but then I happened upon this one, supported by surrounding tall stalks of tansy. I'll bet that tiny bee was relieved to find at least one flower where there are usually dozens:

And here's some of the "wild lettuce" which seems to weather anything, and also seems to grow a foot overnight. I'm taking it out near the gardens because each plant produces roughly 2 billion windborne seeds and it spreads like crazy. I'd never heard of letting goats eat this - and it's got a very sticky sap - but another goat person, my long-time blogpal Leigh, saves this plant to use as a component of her homegrown goat feed, so I'm going to try drying some this year. (Are you here, Leigh? Please check me on this!)

Celebration time: yesterday Moxie and I put up the little screentent again. Now there's a chaise that the biting bugs can not - for the most part - reach. Huzzah!

Since the return of rain is predicted, last night after chores I brought in everything I had dragged outside to air during the Three Magical Days of Dryness. Including all seven drawers from an old wooden dresser. Anything stored in that dresser always smells musty to me, no matter what I've tried. If anyone can suggest a way to get musty smells out of old wooden furniture, please, please share that knowledge! I don't have many storage options in the house, and I don't want to have to turn that dresser into a workshop tool box.

~~~~~

ayran time is here again

We're back to hot and sunny again, after many days of rain, and the mosquitoes are elbowing the blackflies aside to get to the local blood supply a millisecond faster. I'm watching the water trough and the wilds basin closely for signs of wrigglers, because that's when I start emptying them completely and refilling every day instead of just topping them up if the remaining water looks clean.

Speaking of water and mosquitoes...have you ever tried the mosquito "dunks" designed to be placed in water to keep wrigglers from growing up? Supposedly harmless to every other lifeform? 

(Photograph from Chewy.com)

Here's the product info, condensed: 

For use in any standing water including rain barrels, bird baths, koi ponds, tree holes, stock tanks, planter reservoirs and rain gutters. Each dunk covers up to 100 square feet of water, regardless of depth for 30 days or more; for less water a portion can be used.

Deadly to mosquito larvae but harmless to other living things with the active ingredient Bacillus thuringiensis israelensis (Bti). When females lay their eggs in water treated with the dunks, the larvae will hatch and eat the bacterium.

I bought a packet in hopes of reducing the mosquito population in the Pocket Paddock, which is adjacent to my tiny wetland. The goats can't browse there for more than very short periods of time, because the hordes of biting bugs are unbearable. Unfortunately, it's also the best mixed browse on my property - a variety of herbaceous plants and also shrubby stuff like bittersweet; the things goat love, and which are very good for them. I'd love to be able to put the herd down there for half-days, without having to first spray them with bug stuff which we all hate.

The plan is to place a "donut" at the upslope end of the little drainage into my puddle. Today would have been an excellent day to do that, but an innate resistance to tinkering with a biological system has kept me from going forward. This sort of thing has always been a tough decision for me, personally and professionally, in part because the "cons" of such tinkering are so often nebulous beforehand and sometimes downright regrettable in hindsight. So I would love to hear from anyone who has used this or a similar product, or anyone who can speak to the biochemical safety - or risk - of this approach.

Meanwhile, now that it's hot again I am back to shaking up a daily jug of ayran - just plain yogurt, water, and salt - to enjoy in the heat of the afternoon. Such a refreshing beverage! If you make your own yogurt, it's also a great way to use a batch that didn't thicken as much as expected. This year I may even be able to add fresh mint to the ayran, as I am trying again to grow a supply of mints, both from seeds (again) and also from gifted plants (again). Is it beyond belief that mints, which always come with a "Will Take Over" warning, have a hard time establishing here? Many years ago there was spearmint growing wild right next to the house, but that went the way of the hens and I've never managed to coax it into settlement anywhere else. Not giving up though!

~~~~~

today

When I've posted my markmaking efforts over the years, often someone will mention in the comments that they would like to try - or get back to - watercolor or sketching or such. So when this crossed my screen it seemed like something that may be of interest. It's called the Sketchbook Revival Binge Fest, with free access from May 27th - June 9th to video workshops by over 100 artists.

sketchbook revival

I know there is an upgrade option for longer access than the two weeks, but personally I know that a 2-week free access window would make me much more likely to look for a workshop I'd like to see, and then actually watch it in hopes of finding a useful tip or inspiration.

Anyway, I thought it might be of interest to someone, so here it is. And it starts tomorrow, so I think today is the final day to register.

(And in case you are wondering with recent posts if I'm having camera issues at the moment...yes, very much so. But this post in particular seemed to need some sketching, so I looked in my photograph files and came up with this rough little video of a sketchbook from several years ago. It was, of course, an experiment, not meant for publication. But now? Send for the Understudy! It's time has come! I hope this works.)

~~~~~

ai

There are so many aspects to Artificial Intelligence. 

Here's one you may not have heard.

Professor John Hopfield and Professor Geoffrey Hinton were awarded the 2024 Nobel Prize in Physics “for foundational discoveries and inventions that enable machine learning with artificial neural networks.”

This is Hinton's banquet speech in Stockholm, 10 December 2024.

It's less than three minutes long.

~~~~~

well sprung

Spring has lasted a long time this year. Possibly because so many things that were going on in April and May made time seem to stand still. Hazel's unexpected and rapid decline. Two drives halfway across the state that each meant several days of physical recovery to get back to baseline levels of pain and fatigue. A fostered rescue dog who was here for 10 very unfortunately goat-targeting days and 10 gruelingly sleep-fractured nights. And days of rain. Lots and lots of rain.

This year I waited so long to hear the first chirping of spring peepers during evening chores that I finally wondered if my increasing hearing loss meant I was simply unable to hear them: a thought that immediately led to scheduling a new hearing test. By the time the test rolled around - yesterday, in fact, and my hearing has indeed deteriorated further - the peepers were here and I had heard them, at least faintly, while walking the fosterdog at night.

The period of the annual leafing out of deciduous tree species felt delightfully long. It seemed as though a great many weeks passed between the first hints of color high up in the maple branches, and the pointillistic effect of entire mixed-species forests beginning to leaf out; one of my most treasured views each year.

But now the bloodroot flowers - which tell me that Winter is over - are just a memory, and the bloodroot leaves have grown into their remarkable sizes and shapes that seem just as fanciful and unlikely no matter how many times I see it happen. Jack-in-the-Pulpit has popped up in expected and unexpected places. The sugar maple leaves are still drooping a bit but are already far past the softest stage that always makes me think of the most delicate leather.

And two days ago we arrived at the point where looking out any window in my little house creates the feeling of being submerged in a wide sea of trees and green foliage. A bit like a kelp forest, but much brighter and more varied. I always look forward to this, even though it also means that the structural details of the forest canopy become largely invisible again until leaf fall, many months away. Something lost, something gained. Isn't that always the way? Maybe not always. Maybe just when we're lucky.

Now how are things in your neck of the woods?

~~~~~

Hazel Catkin

 

Well this is a hard one. On Monday I had to have the vet come out.

The sad result: Hazel Catkin is gone.

She had just turned 6 on March 17th.

The baby of the herd.

Only Bud is younger, by one week.

When Bud was born, big sister Hazel was so sweet to him.

Here's Hazel and mama Azalea on Day 10:

the traditional day for tackling Goat Mountain.

A teenager in Autumn 2021, showing mama her fancy dance moves.

Winter 2023.

As she grew up, Hazel looked more and more like her mama.

As Azalea's last kid, and a single birth, and a doe who was never bred, Hazel has been strongly bonded to Azalea for every moment of her life.

The whole herd is now in disarray and will continue to be for some time.

But it's a pure loss for Azalea.

This will always be one of my favorite photographs:

Hazel, three days old.

Hazel Catkin, I don't know why your time here was so short, 

but I'm glad you always made the most of it.

~~~~~

then and now

That was 10 days ago. It was the third snowfall in two weeks.

This is now:

The bloodroot is up.

And it's cashmere combing time.

'Tis the season of Everything Suddenly and All At Once, and time is getting away from me on a daily basis. But tonight I was determined to at least post a few snaps and say hello before falling asleep.

Hello!

~~~~~

with feathers

We've had two more snowstorms which have been pretty to look at and certainly more comfortable to work in than several days of rain. Now the snow is gone, the rain has stopped for a couple of days, and we've even seen the sun.

But it's been very cold again - in the low 20s when I get up - and windy. 

Biting winds.

Here's a hungry chickadee, back turned to the wind.

Brrrrrrr.

 My birdfeeders have never been busier than in recent months. I haven't totted up how many pounds of feed have been purchased, but I consider the cost to be my Entertainment Budget. And well spent.

Goldfinches are such scrappy little birds. They'd rather argue than eat.

And now the goldfinches are starting to color up. Spring is near.

This little nuthatch was perfectly still for about two minutes.

Lost in thought?

Mourning doves are so colorful.

Understated, but colorful.

Speaking of color...

Fingers crossed the bluebirds will continue to visit a while longer.

~~~~~