transplanting tuesday

milkweed

We've had a couple of rainy days, and tomorrow is predicted to be the first of three more rainy days, so today - which only looked like rain, all day long - was my do-or-die chance to plant the new blueberry bush, transplant the strawberries, and move a big clump of anise hyssop that got tipped up when the bigtooth poplar by the barn was blown down in the recent storm.

milkweed, detail

After morning chores, I got stuck into the job.

(By the way, the photographs are from a few days ago.

They are from the garden but not directly related to this post.

I didn't take a camera outside today because I needed to Focus On The Work.)

goldenrod

Now, at 4 PM, I am patting myself on my aching back (only mentally, I can't reach) for having gotten all three tasks completed. I've also had a lovely lunch - fried egg on a brioche roll with mayo and lettuce, and a glass of guanábana juice.

(A local store has been selling the soursop juice for a dollar per can lately, and although it is not quite what I vividly remember drinking on a very hot day in Puerto Rico, it's refreshing. And I was certainly glad to have it on hand during the recent four days without water.)

goldenrod, detail

Moxie has joined me and I'm idly wondering when I'll have to switch from my back-length heating pad to my back-length icepack. Maybe when I can't feel the heat anymore?

 I am in no hurry to try to move, so I'll just stay put for a while.

Unless Piper wants to go out.

Or Della wants to come in.

Or there's some sort of mayhem in the paddocks.

(Please, please, let there be no mayhem in the paddocks.)

Until then, just blogging. And sketching! That's coming up next.

~~~~~

sunday review of saturday snaps

The light was lovely yesterday.

I took a break between chores and we went to the woods.

Result: a perfectly happy Piper, doing what she loves most.

Piper was off-lead the whole time.

We spent more than an hour rambling.

Look at this face:

Maybe you've heard the old saying: 

"You can always tell the cobbler's kids - they've got no shoes."

Well, here's a photographer's Self-Portrait With Hound.

Seriously.

I've been a photographer since 1989.

Have had more images published than I can recall.

Have had work exhibited in museums.

I made an effort. This was the best result.

Cannot stop laughing.

~~~

It's raining here today, which means postponing the planting of the new blueberry bush - the first one I've ever bought - and the transplanting of all the strawberries into the new raised bed I almost finished filling yesterday. I thought the soil and muck layers should have a chance to settle before adding the strawberry plants, and this rain is certainly going to help with that settling process. I hope the bed will still look almost full when I go out to check later! It's two feet deep, 32 inches wide, and 6 feet long, and required a lot of shoveling and pitchforking and dragging of muck-filled bins. Transplanting the strawberries - the ones I grew this year - will be a piece of cake by comparison, even if I end up doing it in the rain.

 Is your weekend going well?

I hope so, and I hope you feel like this:

~~~~~

wordless wednesday

~~~~~

the calm

I'm sorry I've been out of touch. The power has been out since a storm Wednesday night, and just came back at noon today, Sunday. No power, no phone, no water. And just to make things interesting: no vehicle. My Highlander went onto the shop on Tuesday, and there it sits. I think the garage got their power back yesterday afternoon.

My road loses power with some regularity, so I had no idea how widespread and severe the damage was (see no phone, etc, above) until Friday, when my Occasional Helper came by as fortunately prearranged and gave me the bigger picture.

Bit of a storm.

So my power is back, which is a huge relief in regards to the freezer, which I have spent four days and nights practicing not worrying about. Long story short: I think the frozen food is okay! Having water again is rather nice, also. The contents of my little fridge were greatly reduced, but now the fridge itself is sparkly clean and extremely tidy, so let's enjoy that while it lasts.

On the down side, there is still a fallen tree pinning two power lines - from house to workshop and from workshop to stilt barn - at 52 inches from the ground. That is the height of the paddock fence the bole is now resting on. It's not a large-diameter tree, but is about 35 feet from root mass to crown, so it caught both lines before resting neatly on the fence. I checked with the power company about the safety of using power in the house while these lines are so compromised (even with that circuit switched off, of course) and was advised that I should treat it a a dangerous situation, stay away, and use no high-draw appliances until a National Grid tree person can get here. Which may not be for a couple of days (I'm guessing) so I ran down the list of my appliances and got the "okay" on the dishwasher which made me very happy indeed. It will probably take a couple of days just to get all the dishes washed.

I'll leave you with a couple of pictures taken the day before the storm.

We are having a stunning foliage season this year, and surprisingly, despite the storm, vast quantities of leaves are still on the trees today! Lots of leaves are on the ground, of course, and there are small branches everywhere, so the goats are enjoying an extended picnic.

This is my east view from the barnyard:

I sometimes forget to provide a sense of the size of the forests I keep showing you,

so here is the east view from my back door, with Adirondack chair for scale:

Now off to the barns.

With no power out there yet, I need to get the chores done while I can still see.

But I wanted to touch base after my latest post,

with a heartfelt thank you for all the kind thoughts.

Much appreciated.

~~~~~

a long life

LeShodu

May 7, 2004 - October 11, 2019

LeShodu moved here from Maine in 2010.

She had just turned 6.

She became my foundation doe, the Matriarch.

She is the mama, grandmama, or great-grandmama

to every Cloud Harvest Cashmere goat.

She ran the entire herd - including goats who grew to far outweigh her -

with an iron hoof. I was sometimes genuinely surprised when one of the big boys stood next to Shodu and I could see that she was not the Biggest Goat.

She certainly seemed like the Biggest Goat.

LeShodu has always been my favorite to comb.

Not only for the quality of her cashmere, but for her willingness to negotiate.

We had a deal.

She didn't want to be tied for combing,

so I offered to comb her untied if she would stand still.

I also suggested that when she had had enough,

she signal restlessness with a tilt of a horn

and I would soon stop combing for the day.

It worked.

(I don't know if even cashmere people will believe this, but it is true.)

LeShodu has been with me for over 9 years, and has been an Absolute Presence for all of that time. Every night when I've finished the chores and am walking back to the house, I always call a "goodnight" to each animal by name or nickname, "Goodnight, Campion my Scampion...goodnight Betula, my birch-boy...goodnight Acer, my maple-man"...etc., always ending with, "Goodnight, LeShodu, Queen of the May."

I know some of my readers follow this blog for the goats, and I've written about LeShodu several times on Comptonia so I know this will be sad news. But please try not to feel too sad. LeShodu had a very long and good life, and a blessedly brief decline. The vet came out yesterday morning and LeShodu was quietly euthanized as I sat on the barn floor next to her, holding her head in my hands as I've done thousands of times, telling her what a Good Girl she has always been.

Good night, LeShodu, Queen of the May.

~~~~~