Spring Quietly Slips into Place

The time for winter picnics is over.

Late winter picnic on the shores of Plum Creek.

The squirrels won't have to wait patiently for the lady of the house to come out and fill the bird feeders.

It is time to forage for one's self in the woodlands now that the snows are gone.

Spring arrived today!  

A flock of over 100 Sandhill Cranes swirled over our ridge top home this morning reminding us to celebrate the return of Spring with gusto and loud squawking.  

Kate arrived, too.  That is kind of like spring since she is bright and shiny and smiley.

A budding herbalist mixing up her grandma's High Calcium Tea blend.

This afternoon brought about a Spring Equinox Tea complete with posh fashions, tiny food and Jasmine tea...our favorite.

Kate's favorite tea party food.....whipped cream filled strawberries

So, leave the Winter Blues and apathy behind.....

Celebrate the new buds, new bird song and the smell of fresh dirt....

Spring is finally here!

A Couple of Things.....

Well, well, well.  Look who decided to open herself up to the world!  She doesn't abide by the names "Thanksgiving Cactus", "Christmas Cactus", or even "Easter Cactus"!  She goes by her own rhythms, her own time.  She is not going to be boxed in to a timeline.  

I think we are a lot alike, this cactus and I.  

We awoke to temps above 20 degrees ABOVE zero this morning.  So here in Wisconsin that is considered t-shirt weather.  I decided it was perfect time to clean out the hen house since it was beyond disgusting.  The girls did not like the brutal, sub-zero weather and decided being inside for over a week wasn't so bad. 

My goodness, the goings-on as I was trying to shovel out the mess on the floor.  They argued with each other, with me, with the shovel, with the scraper.  I can certainly see their dinosaur DNA is present and accounted for with those terrible shrieks.

Then there were the three chooks that decided they wanted to return to the first shed they knew as bitty chicks.  It is where I now keep the feed for all the animals, the wood shavings, mineral, grit. etc. 

I was in the hen house and heard a terrible crash in the feed shed.  I rushed out to see if anything was broken but the three hens were on the top shelf, about 5 feet off the floor, and had knocked off all my plastic feed scoopers...AND looking very pleased with themselves.  I lifted them off the shelves and shooshed them out of the shed.  But within minutes they were back causing more destruction and chaos, seemingly fighting over a corner on the bare wood shelf in which to lay eggs. I put them back outside again!

I quickly finished up the hen house, cleaned up the resulting mess outside the hen house and started to close things up.  I heard some scuffling inside the feed shed.  One of the Silver laced Wyandottes had gone back into the shed and  crawled into the plastic bag of wood shavings that I had put back on the top shelf.  She was settling herself in for some serious egg laying meditation.  The only reason I knew she was in there was from her scratching around.  She fought me the whole time I was trying to get her out of the bag.  Small but mighty with a mind of her own.  

I truly think that this last batch of chickens has been the loudest, most cantankerous, most adventuresome, most feisty, most independent, most self-assured bunch of hens I have ever had.....and I love it!  

The rise in Feminism is alive and well in the world and in the hennery.  

Look out World!!!

Covering a Llama on a New Year's Morning

It's a cold one out there this morning.  We had very clear, moon-light-filled night so I knew it would be severely cold when chore time rolled around.  -16 actual temperature when I donned my chores clothes. 

The wind was minimal so it wasn't as bad as I expected but still......    The henners and Oliver were fine.  They've all become better friends with these cold temps since it makes more sense to cuddle up with one another to stay warm rather than try to peck each other's eyes out.  Sometimes good things come from cold weather.

Time to feed the sheep and Gandolf.  The sheep were eager for their grain but Gandolf just stood on the sidewalk staring off to the sunrise, and shivering.  He was shivering quite a bit, so much so that he didn't want to eat.  Now I was alarmed.  I rummaged through the bags of old blankets, sheets and comforters that we throw over plants in the late fall.  I found a comforter that I thought would work and went out to do my good deed. 

Well, so much for my good deed.  All the critters thought a doomsday device was flying through the air as I tried to cover Gandolf.  All of them went stampeding out to the pasture including Gandolf with the comforter trailing behind him like a wedding dress train.  I had to go out a retrieve the blanket from the pasture while Gandolf stood by looking on and shivering.

Not one to give up easily, I went back for his lead.  I walked back out to the pasture and clipped it onto his halter and pulled him back to the paddock.  He didn't go willingly but when two strong wills come together in the paddock world, I tend to win.  I tied him to the frame of the lean-to and collected the comforter. I slowly placed it on his back and snugged it up around his neck.  Then I retrieved his kibble and encouraged him to eat.   "NO"...he was so indignant that I would do such a thing to him (the sheep were watching). However, I just continued wrapping him up taking the front end of the comforter from his shoulders across his chest.  Then I leaned into him to keep the wrap in place while I told him this was for his own good.  He blinked those lovely long eyelashes at me and kind of just settled into me.  So there we were....16 below zero, snuggled up together in the lean-to trying to appreciate any tiny little warmth from the sunshine we could imagine. 

After a while I realized that I was staring to shiver and decided I had better get inside.  I readjusted the comforter and untied him.  Then kept an eye on him as he tried it out by prancing around the paddock while the sheep scrambled around terrified.

  I came in to a hot breakfast and a steaming hot cup of tea.

The last time I checked, about 30 minutes later, he was still walking around draped in the comforter.  Maybe he realized that I was trying to do a good deed for him. 

So begins 2018! 

November's 2nd Monday Weavers' Gathering = Tranquility

The second Monday of each month is becoming my favorite day.  It is when a sweet group of women meet and share our projects, talk, laugh, learn, eat and support each other in an unassuming way.

Here are some photos of our latest meeting at Susan's in Avalanche, WI at her weaving shop with lunch in her home.  It was all amazing.  Little vignettes popped up everywhere celebrating Susan's sense of playful style and imagination.  Her creativity is just beyond words; we were simply in awe.

The stream Susan crosses to "go to work".  Sigh......

The studio/store.

The light in this studio is amazing...along with all the weavings.

An old, massive barn loom makes a great display unit.

Color everywhere.

Just ...WOW.

Another vignette.

And another.

Bobbins waiting their turn.

I was smitten with this broom.  I just had to have it for my studio.  I finally have my own besom!

Play of light on cones of yarn.  So pretty and soft.

Delicate light comes through this hand woven curtain.

A lesson.

Barb M.'s awesome rep weave rug.

Angie's outstanding water color journal.  She was proud and we were proud of her.  

She is doing an amazing job.

Wall of hand woven kitchen clothes.

One these spoons also came home with me.  I don't think I will use it......I just liked rubbing my fingers up and down the handle.....very meditative and soothing.

Chatting in Susan's cozy living room.

A light-filled kitchen.

Wonderful light, again, on the dessert table.

Susan's commute each day.  How wonderful.

A babbling brook......if that was on my property, I would sit here for hours and hours.

Reluctant Upgrade

People who know me well know that I am not much on foot wear.  I really am not interested in shoes of any kind but living in the Upper Midwest, well, I don't have a choice in the matter come the winter months.

I can usually get a pair of shoes or boots to last way beyond their life expectancy by either just not wearing them or avoiding going anywhere during wet or snowy weather in which compromised boots or shoes would show their true degree of aging.

I have been nursing along a pair of farm boot for the last two years.  It was a dry summer so I didn't worry too much about wet feet.  Then Saturday happened.  It rained and it rained.  We were celebrating our son-in-law's birthday that late afternoon/evening and it rained.  We headed home around 9 p.m. and it rained.  It rained so hard at times that our car was hydro-planing, the windshield wipers couldn't keep up with the deluge and at times we wondered if we should just pull over.  But we persisted and made it home with no accidents. 

I, of course, made a quick trip to the paddock to check on the animals.....in my only clean pair of jeans and a nice sweater, just to make sure everyone was doing well.  My heart sank when I saw there was no Gandolf in the lean-to with the others.  With rain dripping off my hooded sweatshirt (that I put on to protect my nice sweater) I ran out to the pasture.  Three times in the last month and a half I have found Gandolf down with his feet facing up hill with him unable to get up.  "Not tonight!" I mumbled to myself as my glasses became spotted with rain.  I started searching the pasture for a hump of wool.  I walked and walked not even

caring how soaked through I was becoming.  Finally at the far NW portion of the pasture was Gandolf.  He was upright and seemed very pleased to see that someone decided to join him in the joy of getting a good and much needed shower.  "Well, have you ever!!!",  I told him.  "Get up and get back to that shed!".  He seemed surprised with my lack of humor.  He pranced back to the shelter in a giddy manner, while I sloshed along behind him.  I closed the gate to the paddock when I got back and told him to go to bed!!

I got into the porch, out of the deluge, and realized I was standing in two significant puddles....inside my boots.  With the seriousness of a women telling her husband the baby is on the way I said to Dave....." It is time."  "Time?  Time for what?", acting a bit concerned.  "Time for new boots!"  This made him very happy since Dave LOVES shopping for boots.

So today I made the upgrade. 

No tread left, both sides of both boots have big holes.  Time to let these sweet hearts go.

Honkin' big boots, big tread.  Bring it on, Autumn rains and Winter storms.

I will see how long I can make these last since I don't like shopping for boots.

Our Future Biologist....

I awoke this morning to temps in the lower 30's...not quite frost but it couldn't get much closer.  Then, like I do every single Autumn, wonder how the summer went by so quickly.  That means we only have one more water monitoring test to do for the year.  Here is a little "look-back" at this year's monitoring.

Dave and I do volunteer water monitoring for the state of Wisconsin.  They assigned us a lovely little trout stream about 7 miles north of our home.  Twice a year, in addition to the regular tests we have to do, we also do a macro-invertebrate count.  June was one of those months so we asked if Kate could accompany us this time.  She wasn't sure what was involved but as long as she could have the responsibility of carrying a backpack she was all for a new adventure.

 What a motley crew!

The journey to the creek begins.  It is about 1/3 of a mile back to the spot that we monitor each month.

Kate decided that she, with all her 4 year old wisdom and woodland sense, needed to be the leader.

 Then I pointed out the wild strawberries to her.  After that is was OK for Bumpa to go on without her.  Her priorities are in the right place......the blissful taste of sweet, wild strawberries over a leadership role.  We are on the right track here.

It didn't take her long to clear the wee bush of strawberries and she had to run to catch up with Bumpa.  

I can imagine in the coming years, Kate describing these weeds as being "10 feet tall".

Our little woodland fairy!  

Bumpa was already pointing out the water striders to Kate.

Time for a closer look.

And....even closer.

She was waiting to give the turbidity tube to Bumpa.  Another important task.

After all the other tests were completed it was time to collect the macro-invertebrates, pull out the magnifying glasses and do the counts.  

 She learned about scuds, mayfly larvae, riffle beetles, black fly larvae, etc.  

And then, when we told her we had to put them all back she was heartbroken.  She thought she should take them all home!!!  

We gathered up all our paraphernalia and headed back to the truck.  About a third of the way back I asked Kate, "So, would you like to be a macro-invertebrate biologist when you grow up?"  She thought for a moment, while she was checking to see if any more wild strawberries had magically appeared on the plant she had stripped clean on the way in, then said in a very contemplative voice, "No".    "Why?", I asked.  To which she replied in her 4 year logic, "Because the journey was long and I was hot."  

Much to our delight, though, she asked to go two more times.  She remembered which macro-invertebrates the scuds were...impressive.  She only fell in the creek during one of the visits. After we got her out of the water and emptied her full-to-brim boots, she asked if she could fall in again.  And on the last visit a fawn stepped off the bank and into the creek, watching us as we watched her.  I hope that she remembers these sweet times at the creek.  I know how important our farm creek was to me when I was growing up.  I want her to have those same dear memories.