Come look, the cheepers have ventured out to the front yard. It's picture worthy! They appear so stately!
This from Ed, who is probably trying to get me to acknowledge that they do indeed add beauty to our farmette life. Right now, they, like my flowers, seem to me to be past their prime. You give 'em your all and they move on to other things. No more blooms, no more eggs.
Fact is, I do like both -- the garden and the cheepers -- even though both demand from me more than I sometimes want to give.
Still, I have to admit -- the bugs are receding. Maybe this was the last wave of mosquitoes for the year? Shouldn't I go back to working my flower fields?
I do some small maintenance around the edges. It's not perfectly bug free, but definitely an improvement over August.
Yes, I for one am welcoming September!
Come winter time, even this somewhat faded garden color will seem extravagant!
After the noon hour, Snowdrop is again with us at the farmette. As I help her jump down from the car, she turns to watch Ed, who is wrestling with the overloaded old orchard pear branches. Scotch, our old hen, wishes that there was something in the little girl's hand that warrants a pause. She is disappointed and moves on.
Snowdrop follows.
Once in the farmhouse, she does what she loves best: puzzles...
... books, writing at my desk (how does she get the pencil just so?)
When it appears that she is running this way and that, beyond what her energy level might allow...
... I carry her off for a much needed nap.
And after, she is like a child with a whole boatload of new ideas, projects, and surprises. I'll post this photo from our long, long dancing spell.
And this one from when I tell her we'll be going to our local farmers market. She's thrilled with the idea, but then uses the opportunity to.... well, run with the wind!
At the market, we visit our known vendors -- farmer with the best cheese curds in town, and, too, the Greek olive oil guy who tells us horrific stories of what happened when he attempted to integrate young chicks into his brood of hens (they clobbered at least one of the chicks, leaving her so bruised that he felt compelled to sew up the damage. You sewed up a chicken? What else could I do....)
And we bought a tub of September raspberries. They weren't the most glorious berries you're likely to discover this month, but Snowdrop was happy as anything to sit down and eat them right then and there.
Emboldened. Yeah, that's one difference from how she was to how she is.
Emboldened and happy. But then, she already has a reputation for just this: being happy.
This from Ed, who is probably trying to get me to acknowledge that they do indeed add beauty to our farmette life. Right now, they, like my flowers, seem to me to be past their prime. You give 'em your all and they move on to other things. No more blooms, no more eggs.
Fact is, I do like both -- the garden and the cheepers -- even though both demand from me more than I sometimes want to give.
Still, I have to admit -- the bugs are receding. Maybe this was the last wave of mosquitoes for the year? Shouldn't I go back to working my flower fields?
I do some small maintenance around the edges. It's not perfectly bug free, but definitely an improvement over August.
Yes, I for one am welcoming September!
Come winter time, even this somewhat faded garden color will seem extravagant!
After the noon hour, Snowdrop is again with us at the farmette. As I help her jump down from the car, she turns to watch Ed, who is wrestling with the overloaded old orchard pear branches. Scotch, our old hen, wishes that there was something in the little girl's hand that warrants a pause. She is disappointed and moves on.
Snowdrop follows.
Once in the farmhouse, she does what she loves best: puzzles...
... books, writing at my desk (how does she get the pencil just so?)
When it appears that she is running this way and that, beyond what her energy level might allow...
... I carry her off for a much needed nap.
And after, she is like a child with a whole boatload of new ideas, projects, and surprises. I'll post this photo from our long, long dancing spell.
And this one from when I tell her we'll be going to our local farmers market. She's thrilled with the idea, but then uses the opportunity to.... well, run with the wind!
At the market, we visit our known vendors -- farmer with the best cheese curds in town, and, too, the Greek olive oil guy who tells us horrific stories of what happened when he attempted to integrate young chicks into his brood of hens (they clobbered at least one of the chicks, leaving her so bruised that he felt compelled to sew up the damage. You sewed up a chicken? What else could I do....)
And we bought a tub of September raspberries. They weren't the most glorious berries you're likely to discover this month, but Snowdrop was happy as anything to sit down and eat them right then and there.
Emboldened. Yeah, that's one difference from how she was to how she is.
Emboldened and happy. But then, she already has a reputation for just this: being happy.
