Hang in there, Madisonians, two more days of colder air!
Here's a view you haven't seen since winter -- toward the fields to the north of us: planted and awaiting sunny days.
I'm happy to see that there is a touch of sunlight in the early hours of the morning and I pause on my cheeper walk to admire the farmhouse as it catches the light of the rising sun from the east.
Ed is up early as well. There isn't much time (nor much enthusiasm -- it's cold!) for work outside, but we do finish pruning the last of the peach trees...
And I trim and transplant the potted house pelargonium. Small stuff. Pleasant work carried out on the picnic bench.
Let me include a shot of Henny in the front flower field.
Both she and Java are exquisite scratchers and I have to admit, at times, I can hardly hold in the frustration with their clawing at the flower fields. But I do remember the three very important reasons why we keep these guys: we know we have a lot of land to share with others. They love it and their happiness makes us smile and smile. Second reason: well, the eggs. Thirdly - they destroy pretty much all our ticks. If you read the anecdotal evidence on the internet, only guinea fowl are better at vacuuming out the undesirable bugs off your property.
Naturally, I suggest to Ed we also get guinea fowl. Ed's response - They're loud! This surprises me. Oreo the rooster was loud, yet that never bothered us. But, there's loud and there's loud. You can read a wonderful depiction of their racket at this site that talks about why you should not get guinea hens.
Breakfast. Sometimes when we sit down to a lovely morning meal and the sun comes in at just the right angle and the bouquet of farmette flowers is especially enchanting, I'll comment on how content I feel and Ed will say, teasingly, you'd rather be in Paris and of course he is wrong (he would especially be wrong today, as there is an ice shower in Paris and in general, France has had a miserable spring thus far). These days, I almost never want to be doing something else. (I write almost never, since I do remember thinking that weeding the raspberry island yesterday was not great fun.)
The rest of the day I spend with Snowdrop.
And yes, very early on, she starts working the "let's go out" card.
As soon as her hair dries (from her bath), I surprise her with the magic words -- let's go for that walk! I'm watching the weather maps. I know this is our window: cold, but at least dry.
And she surprises me too. I tell her to fetch a favorite penguin for the ride. She comes back with bunny.
In the next photo, you may think that she is unhappy. Not so. She is processing the immense beauty of the branches above her.
At the coffee shop, she knows exactly what's what. She's off to pick up her high chair.
And of course, here, she is studying the other patrons.
And one last photo for you - here because of that smile, that "I know what's important in life" smile of hers that makes you want to smile right back at her, at the day, at everything before you.
Here's a view you haven't seen since winter -- toward the fields to the north of us: planted and awaiting sunny days.
I'm happy to see that there is a touch of sunlight in the early hours of the morning and I pause on my cheeper walk to admire the farmhouse as it catches the light of the rising sun from the east.
Ed is up early as well. There isn't much time (nor much enthusiasm -- it's cold!) for work outside, but we do finish pruning the last of the peach trees...
And I trim and transplant the potted house pelargonium. Small stuff. Pleasant work carried out on the picnic bench.
Let me include a shot of Henny in the front flower field.
Both she and Java are exquisite scratchers and I have to admit, at times, I can hardly hold in the frustration with their clawing at the flower fields. But I do remember the three very important reasons why we keep these guys: we know we have a lot of land to share with others. They love it and their happiness makes us smile and smile. Second reason: well, the eggs. Thirdly - they destroy pretty much all our ticks. If you read the anecdotal evidence on the internet, only guinea fowl are better at vacuuming out the undesirable bugs off your property.
Naturally, I suggest to Ed we also get guinea fowl. Ed's response - They're loud! This surprises me. Oreo the rooster was loud, yet that never bothered us. But, there's loud and there's loud. You can read a wonderful depiction of their racket at this site that talks about why you should not get guinea hens.
Breakfast. Sometimes when we sit down to a lovely morning meal and the sun comes in at just the right angle and the bouquet of farmette flowers is especially enchanting, I'll comment on how content I feel and Ed will say, teasingly, you'd rather be in Paris and of course he is wrong (he would especially be wrong today, as there is an ice shower in Paris and in general, France has had a miserable spring thus far). These days, I almost never want to be doing something else. (I write almost never, since I do remember thinking that weeding the raspberry island yesterday was not great fun.)
The rest of the day I spend with Snowdrop.
And yes, very early on, she starts working the "let's go out" card.
As soon as her hair dries (from her bath), I surprise her with the magic words -- let's go for that walk! I'm watching the weather maps. I know this is our window: cold, but at least dry.
And she surprises me too. I tell her to fetch a favorite penguin for the ride. She comes back with bunny.
In the next photo, you may think that she is unhappy. Not so. She is processing the immense beauty of the branches above her.
At the coffee shop, she knows exactly what's what. She's off to pick up her high chair.
And of course, here, she is studying the other patrons.
And one last photo for you - here because of that smile, that "I know what's important in life" smile of hers that makes you want to smile right back at her, at the day, at everything before you.
