more on monday

More snow.

More soup.

 

More plans.

I hope you are all keeping well.

And staying home.

~~~~~

just two cheerful snaps

 A White-throated Sparrow, perched in the sugar maple sapling just outside my window. I saw the first flash of yellow last week and have been hoping to get a decent photograph ever since. Today, this little bird provided several.

This fragile stem has been rooting in water after a recent horrible mishap involving a very large potted begonia and a windowsill. This morning I was surprised by the sudden appearance of a perfect flower.

I hope your week is off to a pleasant start.

~~~~~

monday morning

The begonia is in glorious bloom once again!

Huzzah!

The very white background?

Well, yes, that is snow.

Been coming down for hours.

Beyond the begonia, it looks like this:

.

.

.

Shall we look at the begonia again?

Huzzah!

~~~~~

snaptest

I'm testing a new camera.

So far, the results are inconsistent.

In a batch of snaps taken between house and barn yesterday,

fewer than half turned out as planned.

Azalea explains,

"Surprises are all very well in their way, but we require consistency in some areas. In photography, for example, we have very clear ideas about the images we seek to record."

 "Or, for a more pertinent example where consistency is critical,

let's talk about the supply of carrot pennies.

Yes, let's talk about that."

Ahem. Yes. Thank you for that insight, Azalea.

(Stops typing to scribble "carrots" on grocery list.)

I must set aside time for a careful test, under various conditions.

It's on the Weekend List.

I hope it will be a long weekend,

because it certainly is a long list.

Meanwhile, here's a picture of Fern (left) and Tansy (right),

choosing the Perfect Spot to lie down atop one of the old wells.

These girls turned 5 months old last week!

To refresh your memory,

here they are on the same well cover, in May:

Time flies.

As do baby goats, remember?

~~~

I hope your Saturday becomes a day to remember -

in a good way.

~~~~~

muddy monday

Lately I seem to spend a large part of every day soaking wet.
Maybe it's been a tremendously humid Spring and Summer,
or maybe I'm becoming even less tolerant of humidity, which has always been difficult.
I don't know.
But even the simplest task, done slowly, soon has me soaked in sweat.
And then, there's been all this rain.
I'm not complaining! Just commenting.
I feel very concerned for those living in drought conditions,
especially in fire-prone areas.
People and wildlife alike.

Today, I was puttering in the barn, doing the daily mucking out
and dragging the big trugs-o-muck out to the Very Raised Bed,
then raking the wet hay and goat pellets down into the piled wood.
It wasn't very hot at all - maybe low 80s - and I had a fan blowing in the barn.
And still, I was soaked.
When I finished up (it's never finished, I just mean when I couldn't do any more)
I came back to the house to switch to dry clothes.
About two minutes later, I looked out the window and saw a wind coming up.
And the sky going dark. Really dark.
Hurricane dark.
I went back outside to quickly add more hay to the feeders,
so the goats sheltering in the barn would have plenty to do without squabbling.
And my, what a rain. It started when I was nearly back at the house,
but water was dripping off my hair and clothes when I got in.

Here's a terrible shot through my bedroom window, of the porch roof:

A deluge, with roll after roll of thunder.
Fortunately not much wind.
I'm hoping no more trees came down.
(There's been a lot of that in recent storms.)

When it ended, the light was dramatic.
This is not a flash picture, but it looked so much like one
I had to check the camera twice:

And amazingly clear air, and sunshine:

I went out to check on the goats, because there had been some
really big thunder cracking right overhead,
and I was a bit concerned about the babies.
All was well. Everyone was eating.
Of course I couldn't get a picture of the babies, because they started
bouncing around as soon as they saw me coming.
They consider me an excellent Entertainment Opportunity these days.
(Fair play; I feel much the same about them.)

But this little snapshot captures year-old Tsuga pretty well:

You can tell from her face in this picture that she is still a youngster.
She is Lily's daughter from last Spring.
I feel really sorry for Tsuga.
She doesn't have anyone to buddy-up with now that Lily
(who was glued to Tsuga every hour for an entire year,
even sleeping with her chin resting on Tsuga for a fluffy pillow)
has her new babies and hasn't got a kind word for Tsuga anymore.

This is typical behavior when a doe has new kids, but it's very harsh.
Very hard to watch.
I remember vividly when LeShodu had the boys, Acer and Betula,
and immediately turned on the year-old Lily and Violet.
It was terribly sad, but as sisters, at least they had each other.
Tsuga's cousin Sambucus is the same age, but has a harsher disposition
and I keep her with her mother, Violet,
because they are peas in a pod. Tough peas.
Even if I put Tsuga and Bui together, they wouldn't really buddy up.

And although I do my best to cheer her up,
I am no substitute for a goat when it comes to company and conversation.

So Tsuga is odd-goat-out until the herd dynamics shift again...

when the babies get a bit older, perhaps,
or when the herd numbers change for one reason or another.

Hang in there, Tsuga. 

It may seem stormy at the moment, 

but this too shall pass.

~~~~~

wordless wednesday