Vacation or Not

I got to spend last week at a stream restoration workshop in Fort Collins, Colorado.  My friend, coworker, and travel companion corrected me when I referred to this trip as our vacation.  He didn't seem to think that an intensive week of training bracketed by late nights of travel, complete with delayed flights and rental car negotiations qualified as a vacation.  

But, I didn't have to cook a meal, clean up after anyone, or feed a hungry goat for five whole days!  Sounds like a vacation to me!  We attended class each day, but still managed to fit in some local travel to explore the foot hills of the Rocky mountains.  

The class included an entire day of data collection on a restored stream that flows through a local park.  It was incredibly hot in the Colorado sun.  I felt like an ant under a magnifying glass - like the sunlight was a force field that was pushing on my skin and roasting me in my hip waders.  I was quick to volunteer to be in the creek with the equipment.  

Because we are used to a different time zone, we were up early each day and could spend a few hours exploring before class started.  We traveled up the Poudre River canyon one early morning, and watched the sunrise cast light on the mountains.  We left the class a little early on Friday so we could drive to Denver and catch our flight.  Things were delayed and we made a stop in Omaha for fuel.  I left the lights on in my car at the long term parking at the Cincinnati airport, so by the time we got a jump start and made the long drive home, it was after four in the morning.  

Back at home, Brandon started teaching a summer class at the university, harvested nearly all our hay, and stayed on top of all the farm chores while I was gone.  He was not on vacation!

The pool water has turned green, but all our critters were well fed and happy when I returned.  He said he was glad to hand the morning animal chores back to me. 

It has only been a few weeks since we had the annual firefly festival farm party.  Everyone agreed that the fireflies put on the best show this year.  It was magical.  After the sun set, the kids ran through the fields catching fireflies while the rest of us sat in chairs and watched the world come alive with flickers of light.  

For the first time, when I showed guests the greenhouse, they seemed rather impressed instead of confused by the tangle of weeds.  The lettuce we have been harvesting all spring was starting to bolt by the day of the party, but we managed to get enough tender leaves to make a big salad.  We loaded the smoker down with meats.  We may have gotten our fire a little too hot too quickly, because the meat reached the correct temperature hours before we expected it to, and it wasn't as tender as I'd hoped, but no one went hungry.  

The five chicks that hatched under the white speckled hen are thriving.  They are out of the coop now during the day, and run beneath the legs of the flock grabbing bits of chicken food.  The goats and donkeys are fat and always hungry. Max, our twenty year old cat, was buried under the apple tree while I was away.  All of our first generation pets, Attila, Max, and Puck, are under the apple tree now.  Last night we took an evening stroll with Wendigo past their small graves and Brandon started talking about getting a puppy.  Oh my!