Friday, March 30, 2018

I'm back! Sort of.

Some things you expect. The occasional cold day in April. With snow perhaps. Which then quickly melts. Transportation strikes in France. Babies being born.

But then, there are the surprises. A spring so cold, that not a single thing is blooming at the farmette. (Last year, I had a feel of dancing daffodils by the second week of April.)

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Oh, I suppose you'd call this "hope" -- in flower field facing the south, signs of green:

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Still, it's a laboriously slow start to the season.

Too, you don't expect, upon coming down to greet the baby chicks, to see this:

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Ed had warned me that they're flying to the rim of the box.
They seem happy to just perch at the edge then fly back down.
But for how long before the wide world beckons?

In fact, until today, Tomato did fly out onto one of the chairs.

That does it: we must contain them! No one had warned us that some chicks really fly high!

Ed puts netting over the top of their box. It doesn't take long for one of them to get tangled in it. That wont do. We raise the sides of the box. They are not happy with us for interfering with their adventurousness.

Well, except for Tomato. Tomato is on the puny side (as compared to the other two), but she loves Ed and Ed loves her back. Unconditionally.

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Too, you shouldn't expect a traditional photo of a wonderful breakfast. We're low on stuff around the house and I have to scramble to find anything that blooms to place on the table. Breakfast is a slapped together affair. Pleasant, but on the simple side.

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Of course, the big unexpected event came with the early birth of my second granddaughter -- Primrose (that's her Ocean nickname). I am terribly anxious to see her and I plan on catching the predawn bus to Chicago tomorrow so that I can finally look closely at that sweet face.

I do expect that after this short trip (one day!), a routine will take hold again. An exciting spring routine -- full of digging and planting and grandchildren and happy chickens. In fact, I'm counting on all that.