Wednesday

I am a little reminded of the deep winter, when a hawk attacked our chickens, plunging us into a period of farm animal obsession. How to protect the cheepers. How to protect the kittens (among them Dance, born in January). How to keep a predator out and keep the farmette animals in. It was a never ending discussion.

This week feels the same, only the focus is on something else: how to get all cats living here spayed and vaccinated, even as most have now been treated (Stop Sign herself is the exception), at the same time that the cheepers are crazily after any cat food and traps seem to terrify some cats but not others (one of the little boys went right in today, even though he had been caught in it just two days ago).

It's been a week of cat work and the end is not yet in sight. Stop Sign is avoiding all cages and we still have one kitten wrapped in a shower curtain in Ed's sheep shed, refusing to come out. Ed tried hard and got a terrified kitty biting at his thumb, which in turn required a trip to the doc's office and a tetnus booster. And presumably a new litter somewhere up there in the garage rafters will need our attention in a few months.

Still, I suppose we are making progress. And the summer sun keeps on shining and the flowers are in their late summer (yes late summer) blooming phase. Lovely, but different.
























In the afternoon, I pick the little girl up a school. She shows me a story she drew. She tells me it's without words. "You can use your imagination to make up the story."






Marathon book reading time...







This is the last Story Book ballet class of the summer session and as always, family is invited to watch.


















Since both my daughters were musically and dramatically inclined, playing instruments and performing in vocal ensembles and choirs, symphonies, ballets, musicals and dramas throughout all their school years, I must have in my life sat through a thousand recitals and performances big and small. They always thrill me. And it's not just seeing my kids (and now grandkids) show off their accomplishments. It's the joy of seeing all the youngsters so engaged in the arts. In this, I always see hope for a more just society and a better future for us all going forward. A bit too mawkish for you? Ah well, it's what I feel.


I come home late. Ed is out biking. I'm greeted by a deer, munching the apples in the old orchard.
What, you have a problem too? Should I worry? Do you need to be neutered? Vaccinated?







Dance and three kittens run up, asking for food. I feed them, put away a few groceries, cook up some lentils for a very late supper.