Sweetfern, Comptonia peregrina, is neither sweet nor a fern. It looks like something the dinosaurs would have walked through, releasing the warmest, spiciest aromas of imagination.
Tuesday, January 28, 2025
the pears of january
Sunday, January 26, 2025
old snap
This snap was taken on January 23, 2022. I couldn't get a better one yesterday, but also couldn't wait to share the good news.
The bluebirds appeared yesterday!
For weeks I've been adding a small percentage of mealworms to the daily sunflower seed in the big feeder so that if the bluebirds came back they would find the welcome mat in place. This week I also put up the little blue tray feeder and started filling it with mealworms. The only noticeable result - before yesterday - was that I now have at least one titmouse addicted to expensive mealworms, darn it, and a grey squirrel who will leap from a tree to that little feeder and then use it's whole face to push a shower of expensive mealworms onto the ground below in case there was a sunflower seed hidden beneath the mealworms. Grrrr. I always provide a generous scatter of sunflower seed first thing in the morning for all the squirrels, and I thought we had a deal.
Anyway, I was beside myself with joy when I caught the first glimpse of a bluebird yesterday, then two more. I'm smiling right now, just writing this. I'll try to get some new snaps to share soon.
~~~~~
Wednesday, January 22, 2025
same task different morning
Breakfast hay delivery, Sunday:
This cart was the hurried replacement when my lovely little green one got crushed last April. |
This is my 4th hay sled, bought on sale at the end of hunting season. Finally a sled long enough and deep enough to hold a hay bale without tipping over between the roundtop and the paddocks. Huzzah! |
I was up at 2 this morning - nothing was wrong; this is typical - and happened to check the thermometer outside the back door. -2F.
Again at 4AM: minus 4.
The forecast is for a continuous drop til 8 AM, then a gradual creeping up above 0. The 8 inches of powder we got on Sunday night has settled a bit but hasn't lost much by way of melting. The sled will be getting a workout twice daily for a while, I think.
In case you're wondering what happened to Monday's hay, fear not; it was delivered to the goats but I didn't go back in the house for the camera. Which reminds me: does anyone have a recommendation for a good pocket digital camera? Please? I've been hemming and hawing about this since 2023, when I had budgeted for a replacement camera but then had to suddenly spend thousands on my water system. Goodbye, replacement camera. Hello, running water!
Before my current camera - which has been partially held together with tape since 2022, is having focus and metering issues, and can't be used during chores because it won't fit in a pocket - I had two little Canons with fine image quality, excellent macro, and surprisingly powerful zoom capabilities. I'd like those features again, but perhaps because the market has shifted dramatically due to increasingly good cellphone cameras, the good pocket digitals have become more expensive than I expected. (Of course this may just be my advanced years talking. These days the voice in my Shopping head often sounds very like my Dad, who always compared the price for a replacement item with the price paid for a predecessor, sometimes decades earlier.) Anyway, please share any suggestions for a pocket camera, because I think I'm going to have to bite the bullet and invest in a new one. Thanks!
~~~~~
Monday, January 20, 2025
this day
teacup feeder:
teacup feeder this morning:
It snowed all night and was very cold. It was still single digits during an early round of checking and feeding. When I headed back inside, dawn was breaking:
And by noon the world was quite dazzling:
Saturday, January 11, 2025
random notes from a winter day
This morning Della wanted me to wake up and get up, and demonstrated this by walking across my chest repeatedly, and sometimes flinging herself down across my collarbone as if she was going to go to sleep (yay!) but then getting up seconds later and starting the Grand March again. Usually it's Moxie who wants me to get up before dawn, and she indicates this by patting my face gently with one paw. There are worse ways to be awoken, and besides, Moxie knows that if I don't get up right away, she might as well go back to bed. If Della's new method becomes an ongoing thing it's going to be more challenging, because when I resisted the marching and flinging, she escalated things by knocking an unknown item off the bedside table. Okay, fully awake now, Della - was that my water bottle? But it's still totally dark so no one is going outside just yet.
I turned on the lamp and decided to finish knitting the decreases to shape the sock toe begun the night before. After perhaps an hour, I reached the final fiddly row - I was working with seven little needles - and somehow dropped a stitch. After many, many minutes of trying to see the decreases well enough to reclaim the drop, then unravelling a couple of rows to try to find a perfect row to pick up and knit from, I finally did what would have made the most sense in the first place: I pulled out the whole toe, reclaimed the 68-stitch row prior to the toe shaping, and put the sock aside because now it was light enough to see the snow still falling and the first little birds arriving for breakfast. Let the morning chores begin, Della!
Fed the cats, fed the stove, and went out to water the hens and feed the wilds - birds and squirrels. I bring the big seed feeder and the suet feeder in every night and put them out again as soon as it's light enough to see. There are also two little hanging teacup feeders that I leave out because they are usually completely empty by dusk and also they are right outside my window and when the little birds arrive just before dawn they land there and alert me that if I'm not already heading outdoors, I should be.
There are many creatures with a demonstrated interested in my routines.
Is it snowing where you are? It's been snowing here since the wee hours, and a wet snow it is - every trip outside today has meant a soaked coat left to dry by the heater. Even the goats have spent most of the day in their shelters, because it's so wet out. Makes a change from the bitter cold and strong winds we've been having in recent days and weeks, but the cold doesn't bother the goats as much as the wet, and I feel much the same. But now it's going on 3 PM and it's so gloomy that I'm going to get out there again for early Evening Chores. And take a cautious walk down to the letterbox as well, because a pound of crimson clover seed was delivered earlier today. Nothing like a packet of seed to make Winter seem very much here.
Are you planning your gardens? I updated my Seed Inventory - an actual spreadsheet, which was well worth the effort a year or two ago - and concluded that I don't "need" to buy anything but pole beans and possibly some herb seeds this year. So I celebrated my efficiency by ordering a pound of clover seed for a 2025 experiment in competition. May the crimson clover win!
Meanwhile, here's hoping my boots have had time to dry, because I'm outward bound. I can see Violet in the doorway of the barn, looking for That Woman With The Hay.