picking up the pieces

What can I say, animals get sick, cameras break, smoke lingers. That is the start to my Sunday in August. We don't keep many farm animals, but there are the six chickens and six cats. We chose the chickens, but the cats were the ones who chose us. Thus far, they all have shown incredible resilience. I swear one of the hens has been slumped and moving at a snail's pace for the past week or two, but it could be old age. They are getting on in chicken years. And the cats? Wow. They never show signs of slowing down. Pancake gets beat up sometimes and looks then like she had just gone through a major war, but otherwise they eat, they sleep, occasionally catch mice and chipmunks and somehow manage to avoid disease, parasites, poisons. They dont even come home with fleas. Ed checks, routinely.

And so it is a surprise for me to find one of the hens deeply in slumber at feeding time. I poke her. I hear a groan. Then nothing. I report back to Ed, who treats disease as some rare phenomenon that occasionally comes around and then disappears on its own. Not surprisingly, he shrugs and says -- she's likely fine. Let us hope so. With the bird flu still a concern, I wouldn't even know what to do with a dead chicken. Do we ask for an autopsy? Do we have to disinfect the coop? Cross fingers that this resolves itself in the way Ed thinks it will.

As for cameras and smoke -- bleh. I treat my camera as if it were my appendage.  I carry it daily, most everywhere. It has more nicks and bruises than most decades old cameras have on them. Still, like the farm animals, it is resilient. Some functions are a little off, but for the most part it works like a charm. But every few months I bang it just a little too hard. Today I not only banged it but also dropped it. I shattered the lens filter. That's okay -- it's replaceable. But I also put a dent in the lens rim. That means that taking off a shattered lens filter is a job for... Ed. Between fixing the roof, going to the store for cat food, working on my camera, repairing the faucet, and hauling a carload of stuff I've cleared out to Goodwill -- well, I'm keeping him busy today!

 

 

 

Me, of course I snip lilies. I'd say there are a few more days left of this and actually if I stopped now, it would be okay, because the number of blooms is starting to drop off considerably. That's good. I love my gardens but I hate the bugs. I have itchy bites on parts of my body that I could not describe in good company. It's been such a buggy month!

And it's been a smoky month. The levels were so high this morning that I put on my face mask to work outside. I dont really mind it, but when your hands are dirty with sticky lily juice and you have an itch under that mask -- it's torture. 

On the other hand, it's been a happy day. I have the deep satisfaction of completing the garden sweep.

(this is what a healthy hen looks like!)

(... along with her healthy mates!)

 

 

(still a few buds left on this lily) 

 

 

(a frog, a lily, and sunflowers) 

 

 

 (a lily here, a lily there...)

 

(a Tiger Swallowtail which, they say, represents transformation, joy and new beginnings) 

 

 

I also harvested a bunch of gladiolus stems that were slowly keeling over. They're beautiful in a vase and useless lying down on the ground. In that way, they are less rewarding for me than, say the gladiolus mureale, which stands tall no matter what.

(the rare glad that still is upright)

 

(many more are now in a vase)

 

 

Turning now indoors, I have to say, it is a satisfying day socially. I have breakfast with my distant Zoom friends. This is great for many reasons, not the least of which is that my weekend is otherwise quiet, so a little adult chatter is most welcome. (The young family is not here for dinner because they have a visiting other grandmother.) 

 

The week ahead is going to be interesting. I am to embark on some travel. I prepared for it mentally, and not at all physically. Once again I'll be in places with vastly different weather systems (total cold rain in the first, mostly warm sunshine in the second and third). I should get myself ready, but, as always, I put it off. Packing well and reasonably lightly requires effort and if you remember, this is my weekend of moving slowly!

Tomorrow I'll pick up the pace. And see the kids. And bake some granola. And freeze many bags of corn. And look for a missing chicken, because guess what -- one disappeared on us this evening. Farmette stuff. August stuff. With good outcomes all around, I hope.