Tuesday, March 20, 2018


Hello, Spring! I know you're full of surprises (for example today you decided to do a backward flip, giving us a somewhat chilly welcome). Still, I do love you because no matter what, you always move forward. By mid June, when you'll be waving good bye, you'll have decked the farmette with hundreds of flowers, from daffodils and irises, to lilacs and peonies, peach and apple blossoms, blue bells and white bells, violets and roses. Who wouldn't love you for that alone?

Of course, all that color comes later. Nothing is blooming at the farmette right now. The good stuff has to be imagined. But I'm good at that!

And for now, we have our little breakfast in the sun room which is colorful at any season.

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We watch the little chickens and they watch us and.... what's this??

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Did Tomato just fly out of the brooder? She did!  (The other two are intrigued: tell us what you see out there!)

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It's time for a new home (with higher walls) for the whole lot of them.

We fuss. Put in an extra layer of cardboard! Let's elevate the water more! And here's another branch -- a crab apple this time. Robins like it and so should these girls! On and on. The whole morning spent on relocating the week-old chickens.We've read plenty about the trauma of moving young chicks. No visible ill effects on these girls! They look around, discover that if they scratch long and hard, they'll get to the bottom of the cardboard box, where they will find an exciting piece of blue packaging tape. Peck peck peck! They sound like woodpeckers now.

(Gathering by the water cooler to gossip: what do you think? they could give us a few more pieces of furniture! two twigs, how skimpy is that!)

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And soon after, it's time to bring Snowdrop home to the farmhouse.

She goes straight to the leftover cupcakes.
Okay, just one.
I would like to eat it next to the baby chickens.

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Story time follows. She nearly always wears her flowered wreath (my crown!) for this.

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Late, late afternoon. It is just about time for me to take her home. But she is stalling.
Ah-ah, can you play Swan Lake? 

From there, it's a short step to putting on a leotard and a skirt.

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She is joyous in her dance (along with the Youtube Russian ballerina)

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I cannot stop her.
Let her dance, let her dance -- Ed tells me.
And I do.

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And he watches and smiles and tells her she is fantastic.

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And it is this farmhouse scene that I will keep in my pocket as I set out on my travels tomorrow.