Iris, Pool, Goat Pee, Cats

The iris are finished blooming, and I feel like I barely got to spend any quality time with them before they were finished with their flowers. 

Our annual farm firefly party is this Sunday! Whoop!  Each year it gets easier to plan.  I've been catching up on laundry and tending the swimming pool, which is sparkling clear and blue.  We put a black cover over the pool when we closed it last fall, and it prevented algae from growing in the pool over the winter.  Opening the pool this year was so much better than last year, when the water was nearly black with algae and I had to go to battle with chemicals and the vacuum.  I'm so pleased with the way we were able to sink the pool into the landscape.  It reminds me of a pond nestled in the grass.  

Every summer, Brandon extends his yard mowing boundary.  If it were up to me to mow, we would have a yard of wild brush, I'm sure, but with Brandon behind the blade, our yard looks more and more hospitable all the time.  

We moved all the boy goats to the pig fence, behind the garden, and let Peaches and the baby have the big pasture.  The donkeys are grazing what used to be the goat pasture.  The goats had a day of crying and stress when they were separated, but now that they have calmed down, it's much nicer for me to work with my girl goats without getting jumped on or peed on.  I gave Little Buck a head scratch the other day and he responded by pissing all over my legs! Yuck!  I think he may be growing up, after all.    

Ditto Cat would never do such a thing.  

It looks like Newt Kitty is ready for a summer diet!

Using Every Second of Our Day

Yesterday morning Brandon sent me a text saying that he forgot to take out the trash before he left home.  Taking out the trash at our house means pulling the big trash can all the way down our long driveway to leave it near the road.  Wendigo and I had already fed all the animals, filled the water buckets, watered the garden and greenhouse, and fussed with the swimming pool to get the filter running, making a dozen trips to the barn and back.  It was nine thirty, I was supposed to be at the office, and I was a sweaty mess, but we tugged the trash can to the road and breathed deep as we strolled.  

We even stopped to admire the iris and the pretty green lawn.  Someone recently gave me a compliment on my weight loss and asked if I was working out.  Ha!  My life is a work out!

After my hours at the office, I stopped at the grocery, but I didn't have to buy any greens.  Our greenhouse is stocked up with lettuce, peas, and kale.  Dinner prep these days involves picking a giant bowl of leaves and using the salad spinner to rinse and dry them.  With sweet potatoes in the oven, Brandon grills the meat while I assemble two salads in mixing bowls.  We joke that the goats have taught us how to patiently chew our roughage.  

The season for endangered bat surveys has officially arrived, which means I could be scheduled to be out of town for work every day from now until mid-August.  I've been taking stolen moments from my days to get the plants I started in the greenhouse re-homed into the garden.  The brussel sprouts seem to like their new home.  

I moved some lettuce that has sprouted in dense clusters in the greenhouse to the garden too, plus a pot full of cucumber seedlings and another of climbing green beans.  The plants were crowded in their pots, and their roots were intertwined, so I just planted them in one big clump and surrounded them with old hay to suppress the weeds.  Good luck, plants.  

I ordered twenty-five strawberry plants, two gooseberries, and fifty asparagus.  The strawberries were packed in a plastic bag with moist shredded paper.  They looked like a bundle of hairy roots.  The plants arrived on Monday so I asked Brandon to prepare himself for some digging, and I started planting as soon as I got home yesterday.  The storm clouds were gathering so we worked fast, hoping to get the plants in the ground before the rain.  

I read that strawberries like rich well drained soil.  Well, shoot.  I dug a trench in our tight, poor draining clay garden soil, and filled it with good dirt I stole from around the compost area.  I remember reading that strawberries can share diseases with blackberries, so it's good not to plant them together.  Well, shoot.  I planted them right next the blackberry patch, just because I had a good spot without so many weeds.  Good luck, strawberries!  

Did I tell you that one of my hens hatched six chicks?  They are adorable tiny fluff balls, and the momma is super grouchy and bites me when I approach the chicks.  

So many tomatoes!  It's past time to put the tomatoes out.  Last week, I placed flags every six feet inside the garden fence and dug a small hole near each.  Brandon worked hard to cart in loads and loads of old hay so we can mulch around the tomatoes, but we haven't had a chance to actually plant them yet. This weekend we are determined to make it happen.  My goal is to plant thirty plants.  I should have plenty to share.  

Brandon took on the task of digging some trenches eight inches deep in the place we grew tomatoes last year.  It's some of the best dirt we have, so I hope the asparagus will like it.  After digging half of the trenches he was questioning our need for fifty asparagus plants.  What can I say, I like asparagus!

Wendigo had a blast helping Brandon dig.  She pawed the dirt, ate dirt clumps, and put her big head in the way.  We had to take a break to scarf our dinner, but then we were back at the asparagus patch trying to get the plants in the ground before dark and before the storm that was threatening.   

The asparagus arrived wrapped in some waxy paper.  Each plant looks like a long legged spider, with roots over a foot long.  Because our trenches were narrow, I spread the roots in each direction, and covered them with about two inches of soil.  I got the last plants in the ground just before dark, and we were more than ready to rinse off and soak our weary bodies in the hot tub.  Brandon said he gives us credit for using every second of our day.  

As we were preparing for yoga then bed, I checked the weather and saw that we were not going to get the storm that was promised after all.  Sigh.  I went back outside at ten o'clock in my night gown, and tugged the garden hose around so I could water the newly planted strawberries and asparagus plants.  I didn't want to take a chance that the roots would dry out in the dry soil, especially after we worked so hard to get them planted.  Swarms of insect buzzed my headlamp and landed in my ears, so I held the lamp down low, which resulted in a bug flying up my night gown!  By the time I extracted it, it had made it's way up nearly to my neck.  Ack!  Someone drove their car on the neighbors driveway, and slowed down to watch the crazy person dancing on the lawn in their pajamas with a light in one hand and spraying hose in the other!  What a day.  

A Salamander and a Smoothie

As I walked up a recently restored stream channel, I noticed this bright red salamander on the rocks at my feet.  It was in a dry part of the stream, so it was dehydrated and barely moving.  I carried it to a shallow pool and splashed it with stream water and it started to squirm. 

At the time, I assumed it was a northern red salamander (Pseudotriton ruber), which I've seen before.  I've been doing some reading and looking closely at the photos, and I think it might be a midland mud salamander (Pseudotriton montanus).  I've never seen one of those before!  It's always exciting to find a new-to-me species.  Does it look like fish bait to you?  

Puddles and small vernal pools in the floodplain had thousands of tadpoles.  Spring is an exciting time for amphibians.  

I fell off the diet wagon this week.  Not only did I over do the drinks and snacks at a party, but then Brandon was out of town, and I was on the go, so I skipped grocery shopping and making real meals.  After a long day of field work, I realized that my only nutrition came from the coffee I had for breakfast, potato chips and a melted snicker bar I ate in desperation while driving, and a chicken finger basket from a small town Dairy Queen which plagued my digestion for hours.  I hadn't eaten anything green for two days, so it was no wonder I didn't feel like cooking.  Time to raid the greenhouse garden for some greens!

With a blender full of lettuce, pea shoots, and kale leaves, a splash of water, plus some frozen blueberries, a handful of strawberries, the juice from a lemon, and an avocado, I made an entire pitcher of green smoothie.  No cooking required!  No chewing either!  

When Brandon arrived home late at night, I handed him a big glass of health and he made faces while he swallowed it down.  A green smoothie without a sweet banana is a powerful taste. We are steering ourselves back onto the right track now.  Having all those greens just waiting to be picked makes it easier.     

Blue Bus Guest Cleanup

We took a Sunday drive to visit our old blue bus that lives in the forest, high on the cliffs above the river.  Even though it's only a forty-five minute drive from our little farmhouse, I haven't had a weekend bus get-away for over a year.  For years the bus was our wild place of escape from our city jobs and suburban home.  A place to get away from it all.  Now that we live away from it all, all the time, the bus has been neglected.  But not forgotten.  

Just like we always used to do, I packed a picnic basket and filled the coffee thermos while Brandon assembled a box of tools.  While we loaded the trunk of our car with our supplies, we played keep-away with Wendigo, who tempted us with her toys.  Sorry, Wendi, you are too big to enjoy a ride in the car all the way to the bus.  Besides, someone has to stay home and keep on eye on those silly goats.  This was my first trip to the bus without Puck, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was forgetting something important.  

The entrance gate was so overgrown with vines and bushes that we missed it the first time we drove by.  We were glad to see that it wasn't easy access, since we have had problems with people dumping their trash on our property in the past.  This time, there was only one new garbage pile near the road, but it was topped with a giant mattress and box springs.  Sigh.

The little clearing we made years ago, to park our truck, was thick with green plants.

I walked slowly behind Brandon as he blazed a trail through the vegetation.  It was like walking into a jungle.  Birds and insects were filling the forest with sound, and beams of sunlight filtered through the tall canopy so that we walked through beams of warm light and through patches of cool shade.  Leaves brushed against our legs and we had to duck our head under branches.  A toad hopped along in front of me.  

Right before the curve in the trail, when the bus becomes visible, I always get nervous that we will find a fallen tree on the bus, or to see that vandals have burned it or busted the windows.  There it is!  It was free of fallen trees or scorch marks.  Whew.  

We've had bus guests since we've been there.  They left a bit of mess to clean up, but at least they didn't ruin everything.  We did a quick survey of the bus and the surrounding area, then swept all the leaves from the back deck, set up the table, and had a picnic in the filtered sunlight while we admired our trees.  This property has some of the most beautiful trees.  Especially giant sugar maples.   We could hear the drumming of woodpeckers echoing from the cliffs across the river.    

The front door, which was getting soft anyway, was open and broken.  There were empty water and Gatorade bottles, some canned food, and lots of empty candy wrappers.  Also cigarette butts, a mans sweatshirt, and a few pillows.  Some of our things, like some nice old oil lamps, metal tins, and some old tools were missing.  Brandon said it was nice that our guests had enough energy to carry off our things, but didn't pack out their trash.  I thought it was funny that they took the time to hang those tree shaped air fresheners.  They must not care for the musty forest and diesel oil smell that lingers in the bus.  

We bagged up the garbage, cleaned a few birds nest out of the sink, picked up the shed snake skins from the floor, and removed a wasp nest.  We patched the front door back together, and have some plans for building a new one.  One of the back windows is leaking, and the wood floor underneath is rotting.  I want to replace the wood stove with one that works better.  I can see many more days at the bus in my future.  

What the Heck?!

I yelled, "What the heck!?!"

Brandon heard me through the plastic of the greenhouse, where I had just entered with the hose, and asked me what was wrong.  My entire bed of chard had vanished!  Gone! There wasn't a single stalk, or leaf to be seen.  Brandon asked if it was slugs, but I've never seen a slug attack that was so clean.  What could it be?  

As soon as I started spraying water on the row of peas, I had my answer.  Baby bunnies came tumbling out of the pea vines, and raced around the greenhouse.  Aha!  Brandon and I tried to chase them through the door, but all that accomplished was to let in a chicken and Wendigo, who thought chasing chickens and bunnies in the greenhouse was great fun.  Stop stepping on everything!  By the time I evicted the dog and the chicken, I was so frustrated I just put on some gloves and grabbed the bunnies up.  They didn't try to bite either.  

I caught two bunnies by hand, and found two dead bunnies under the peas.  I think momma bunny must have come in the greenhouse through a small hole in the plastic and the babies followed.  She figured out how to leave, but the babies couldn't find their way.  It's too hot and dry in the greenhouse to survive for long.  Poor babies.  I released the two I caught so they can live to eat the garden again.  

Our recent bat catching adventures allowed me to meet this big brown bat (Eptesicus fuscus).  After catching those tiny small-footed bats, this guy seemed gigantic. 

After he was measured and weighed, I open my hand and he quickly flew away.  This bat had several scars, including a notch from his ear.  Big brown bats can live almost twenty years, especially a big male like this one.  His scars and fierce attitude make me think he's been in a few tight spots during his life.  

I'm happy to report that Little Buck is feeling better.  He plays with the baby goat, and fights for his share of the food.  He is still thin, but I think he looks stronger and not so skeletal.  It's a good thing he is feeling better, because he had a job to do.  Peaches was crying and acting like a maniac for several days, so I think there's a good chance we will get another baby goat in September.  Oh boy.  I stopped milking since my work is keeping me on the move and the summer looks to be a busy one.  If she's already pregnant, then I won't have to worry that I'm not going to get a chance for goat milk later.  

I'm keeping the fly masks on the donkeys, even though I miss seeing their pretty eyes.  We don't have lots of flies, but we have enough that if I leave the mask off, the donkeys will get little bloody bite marks on their faces.  Especially Hattie, who has lost the hair around her eyes where her tears keep her fur wet.  I rub vaseline on her bald spots under the mask, like the vet said to do, but I can't tell that it's helping yet.  She's getting used to it now and she doesn't run from me.  She's a sweetie, and likes to have her face hugged and her chin scratched.  

The chickens and I re-worked the stones on the herb spiral. I stood them on their ends so they make more of a terrace to hold deeper soil.  I've been reading Lord of the Rings, and I think it has influenced my stone work.  I see the tower of Orthanc at the top of my spiral.  

The gas company came to claim the large white propane tank that was in the back yard.  I'm glad it's gone.  I dug up the wild sunflowers and new England aster that grew near the tank, and moved them to a new bed.  The chickens follow me around like a pack of hungry wolves and snarf up the earth worms that get exposed as I dig.  They get so excited for worms that they dive in to my excavations head first and I'm afraid they are going to be decapitated by my shovel.  It's sometimes irritating, but I forgive them.  I can only imagine how excited I would be if ready-to-eat stadium brats popped up every time the soil was turned!  

I ordered fifty asparagus plants that will go in the bed that the chickens use for their dust baths.  I haven't given them the bad news yet - but bath time is almost over!