Anemones are plentiful here. There are some in the garden, more along the roadside at the front of the property and then a patch near the entrance to the woods at the creek just beyond the house. They are very pretty indeed.
While eating dinner last night I looked out and across the field behind the house a turtle was walking along. When we finished eating Hubby grabbed the camera and took a few pics. It must be another female Common Snapping Turtle searching for soft ground in which to lay her eggs. Likely she came out of the pond behind the house.
There are a number of peony plants bursting with colour right now. The garden where they are located is chocker-block full of stuff that needs splitting. I've just let things grow - including the weeds - in order to learn what is actually growing there. There is so much in this garden that you hardly know the peonies are there.
And death. It's a part of living, really. At lambing time shepherds work hard to ensure life gets off to a good start and death is avoided. And then there are the coyotes. As the mailman said to me when I shared my coyote woes, "They have to eat too, every day".
And so, one of my chickens died. Putting the animals in one evening, I was short one chicken. Oh, there she was down the hill, dawdling along. I went to get her. As I lifted her up, I thought she must weigh half of what the others weigh. She wasn't very happy. She seemed down, physically depressed. I gently set her down in the barn and she slowly moved away from me.
The next morning, she was off to the side, unlike a happily strutting chicken. I carefully picked her up and carried her down to the Small Barn. There I put her in a pen by herself, got her some water and food. Here she could eat undisturbed, no pecking order to deal with. I checked her later in the morning and she was in the corner. I petted her and talked to her. She had eaten some food. I looked in a bit later and she was moving and panting. After dinner when I looked in, she was gone, with no life left in the feathery body.
Interestingly, a number of her fellow chooks showed up to bid her off. I dug a hole up behind the barn. It needed to be deep enough not to attract the wild animals. The spot was also chosen as near to Millie's watch. When the hole was completed I went and got the feathery bundle and when I returned there were three chooks about the hole. Now, granted they were very interested in the freshly dug worms and bugs but it was interesting none the less that they showed up when they did.
Our newly acquired Red tractor was just lovely - until recently. Fortunately, we had not had it long and there was a limited warranty. It was actually a consignment item at the shop where we purchased it and we were treated very nicely to a full refund.
I had done about half the lawn one morning. In the late afternoon I headed out to see if I could finish the rest before dinner. I was half way up the lawn when there was a sudden clunking and the engine stopped.
Whoa, I thought, where did that come from. I quickly rehearsed in my mind the order of operations and had not done anything out of sequence. I double checked things and tried to start the engine. It purred, all seemed well, I cautiously engaged the mower and forward we went. For about twenty feet when there was even louder clunking and the engine stopped. Now it would not start.
It was Friday afternoon at four. I called and they said they'd take care of it. On Monday, we called. On Tuesday they called and said it had slipped their mind, they were sorry, they'd be there first thing Wednesday. At eight thirty Wednesday they called to check if it was too early to come and I said no this was fine, I was in the barn. He arrived just after nine.
In moments he was flabbergasted and declared it had 'dropped a rod'. He put it on the truck, said he'd get back to us, aware that we needed it yesterday to keep up with the lawn.
On Friday, we called for an update. They said, it was unfortunate, almost unheard of that a Briggs and Stratton engine would blow a rod, that it cost half again more to replace the engine than what we paid to purchase it. He said, "We all need to wash our hands of this and move on". Our money was waiting for us to pick up.
And so, we are down a chicken and a tractor. Both produced at a high level until their demise. There was no noticeable decline in egg production and she had not been observed as ailing in any way. The tractor too purred, was a delight to drive and seemed the right tool for our needs.
Rest In Peace my little red hen and little red tractor.
Love your stories Kelly. By the way,
ReplyDeletehave a great trip. xxoo