tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59760538611044389792024-02-21T16:19:28.446-08:00The Singing FarmwifeI wasn't born in a barn, but I got here as fast as I could.
Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.comBlogger206125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-7218716650677368262022-04-01T07:52:00.003-07:002022-04-01T08:00:17.801-07:00BE STILL<p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1PmkrxiPCTdFtZPmLLKMVHEYkHABIgaV4q3WO324mucHkUKwMXijC8r8Dj_DgiFsDDy-FHNy9DV9HS7zLkLE_2YiehlzcFSQ4BpPm7wJkGSP1VU9P-b77jZ7-3ZDEZSEMgGGt1aB0_rA_57Ebv0cijs4a58n1IbsSQhgMKULr03yY-qnan-D1ulQy/s3472/100_2671.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2604" data-original-width="3472" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1PmkrxiPCTdFtZPmLLKMVHEYkHABIgaV4q3WO324mucHkUKwMXijC8r8Dj_DgiFsDDy-FHNy9DV9HS7zLkLE_2YiehlzcFSQ4BpPm7wJkGSP1VU9P-b77jZ7-3ZDEZSEMgGGt1aB0_rA_57Ebv0cijs4a58n1IbsSQhgMKULr03yY-qnan-D1ulQy/w640-h480/100_2671.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span><span style="font-family: times;"><p><i><span style="font-size: large;">Psalm 46:10 Be still and know that I am God.</span></i></p><span style="font-size: large;">God is in the quiet places and I have a hard time slowing down enough to spend time there.</span></span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">Yesterday, it was my job to fill the four gigantic water troughs for the sheep. This is a task that takes about ten minutes. Ten minutes of watching water surge into plastic ponds. Ten minutes of fidgeting, standing on one leg and then the other and thinking about all there is yet to be done.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">It is so hard for me to reach the state of quiet that allows me to hear anything other than the clamor of my life. But, as I stood at those four troughs, I thought about my husband, whose job it usually is to fill them. About how he leans on the fence as he holds the hose just so. About how he gazes at the fields in front of him, the mountains piled up beyond them and the sky arching over all of it. I asked him once what he thought about while standing at that fence staring out at the world and he said, "Nothing. I don't think about anything."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">So, as I stood at the fence, I practiced quieting my mind. I let the sound of sheep slurping be the only background noise. I let the mountains and fields, quiet before the great spring unfolding, send their silence into my soul. I gave myself permission to just be. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">And God stepped in and said, "I am enough. I AM."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">May you find a quiet spot for your soul today.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-28840844998853983892022-02-08T11:19:00.003-08:002022-02-08T11:19:38.653-08:00Sticky Hands and Stinky Knees<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjU0cOvpwPPA4d3qoHNRVKd7WAP1zYEvcsmgpd4DNzkwie6QrnICGfbugk2MZJXrgR2xeo8V9W6etETp9yJfDuplP6ucblRmCKIAqsyuVcQ1urmoYrt_3ouPHZmB5yJOqTRYkwNFIb0Qxji9hX51rDtTx3qFswQGnsYwWPd4Sdlc8sgY3TQGplUpggT=s4608" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2592" data-original-width="4608" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjU0cOvpwPPA4d3qoHNRVKd7WAP1zYEvcsmgpd4DNzkwie6QrnICGfbugk2MZJXrgR2xeo8V9W6etETp9yJfDuplP6ucblRmCKIAqsyuVcQ1urmoYrt_3ouPHZmB5yJOqTRYkwNFIb0Qxji9hX51rDtTx3qFswQGnsYwWPd4Sdlc8sgY3TQGplUpggT=w640-h360" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">It's lambing season. Our farm has
170 ewes. A birthing <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>average worth bragging about would be two lambs per ewe, but nature has a way of skewing the odds a little
lower.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">For instance, last week we
had a snowstorm. The thirty sheep on pasture in front of our house are due to
lamb in March. But somehow a roaming Romeo found at least one of them, and she
gave birth to twins in whiteout conditions. One of the twins made it. The other
stepped into a deep cow track and couldn’t get out.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">We weren’t even aware that
they were out there until a neighbor called. Other than feeding them once a
day, these sheep don’t get much of our attention,. Their sisters in the
maternity barn need us more. So, by the time we retrieved the one live lamb, it
was cold and hungry.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Mama and baby were herded to
our woodshed. The ewe was interested in her lamb, which isn’t always the case.
She nosed him, nickered and pranced whenever we got near. And, baby was hungry.
He bawled and sucked our fingers. But, he couldn’t seem to make sense of his
mama’s udder. Cold had dulled his instincts.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Joe grabbed the ewe by the
neck and manhandled her into a corner. He pushed his knee into her side to hold
her there while I dropped to my knees in the hay.With my head pressed against her hip, I stuffed the baby’s head
under his mama’s belly. He rooted around, grabbed a hunk of wool and started sucking.
Right idea, wrong location.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">So, I pushed his mouth right next to a teat, pried his mouth open with my thumb and pointer finger and
then jammed the teat into his mouth. He slurped, spit it out, and grabbed wool
again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">We repeated this process
until my back was in knots and my neck was cracking. Mama Ewe was pretty
patient, but eventually she began kicking at her
baby every time I pushed the teat in his mouth. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">After about fifteen minutes, the
hungry lamb butted his mama’s udder, wiggle-waggled his tail, and started
sucking in earnest. When I let go of him, he bawled, lost the teat
and sucked wool again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">I stayed beside him as long
as my achy back would let me, then stood up and stretched. Baby backed away, too, but he
shook his whole body: a good sign that a lamb has eaten his fill. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">I studied the knees of my
coveralls. They were covered in shit, and my hands were covered with sticky colustrum
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and bits of hay.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">By the next morning, the lamb
was making it on his own and we turned his momma and him out two days later.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Every lambing season is like
this. There are always lambs to help. It is a frustrating, stinky,
back-cramping job. But the reward is the field full of lambs I watched running
in the sun, yesterday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They played
follow the leader, pounding across the lot, skidding around a tree, and then galloping
pell-mell back to their mamas who were chewing their cuds and gossiping by the
fence. The lambs blew steam in the cold air, panted, and then took off again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Sticky hands and stinky knees always remind me that there is always some good that comes with the bad. That hard things just need to be done.
That we aren’t really in control of anything. </span></p>Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-50305448348985426142022-01-25T09:24:00.003-08:002022-01-25T09:24:49.875-08:00<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhf6TTeBEusfBgj3B-0dQ2kw50luy5a-CCfF7U1Oqc0_5t6JranfEGa5dIUdLngsQOOIwo6F4STWy5l604DJkwmSJ2a-mJj-S1QZRDZ3dNS34NVRzvYXt0R-qw8u58vK4_zC2H-w0-K-5-Tr6y1O9rCc5U7hkHr7BfSrrfONB6Y9pBuclWlfW0khln0=s612" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="403" data-original-width="612" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhf6TTeBEusfBgj3B-0dQ2kw50luy5a-CCfF7U1Oqc0_5t6JranfEGa5dIUdLngsQOOIwo6F4STWy5l604DJkwmSJ2a-mJj-S1QZRDZ3dNS34NVRzvYXt0R-qw8u58vK4_zC2H-w0-K-5-Tr6y1O9rCc5U7hkHr7BfSrrfONB6Y9pBuclWlfW0khln0=w640-h422" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">DRIVING LESSONS<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">See the driveway in the
picture above? That’s my driveway. You can only see about a fourth of it from
the picture and it looks pretty drive-able, doesn’t it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of the snow appears to have melted so it
seems like any driver with four-wheel drive should be able to navigate their
way out to the road with ease.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">I’m not just any driver. I am
a lily-livered, ice-phobic, scaredy cat. Plus, the first section of this
driveway faces south. It melts off quickly making it incredibly deceptive. At
the top of that hill, there is a slight turn to the left. You must make that
turn while your <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>back wheels are desperately
trying to gain traction on the last fragment of still-ice covered slope. And you are turning on
to an extremely slick <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>section that has
definite opinions about your right to stay on the road at all.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Further down, there is a
sneaky straight stretch with lots of ice lining the three inch deep tire
tracks. That ice is just the right height to push your tender sidewalls around,
jouncing the car from one side of the track to the other.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Below that? Another icy turn
that never receives sun. It is tilted the wrong way and wants nothing more than
to throw your car over the very steep embankment to the left. I once left a vehicle seesawing on
the ledge: two wheels spinning in open air. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Finally, the last <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>downhill slope, the one that leads to the
hardtop road, could qualify as a luge run in the Olympic Games. It’s straight,
so you’re okay if you don’t use your brakes. Just better hope there are no cars
barreling towards you as you reach the finish line. You won’t be able to stop.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Okay, okay! My husband would
tell you that my description of this driveway is exaggerated. Supreme
hyperbole! But, he’s not me. He grew up driving in snow and ice on curvy,
treacherous roads. I did not. I learned in driver’s school how to turn my car
into the slide if ice took over, but that doesn’t work on my driveway. Turning
into the slide just insults the ice walls lining the track and they push back,
forcing your back end even further towards that precipitous drop.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">So, today, I had driving
school with my snow and ice certified driving husband. He made me drive in and
out of the driveway four times in a row. By the second time, my palms were so slick that they were sliding around on the steering wheel and my knees were like noodles in a pot of
boiling water.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">With instructions as vague as
“Stay in the track!” which I thought I was trying to do, he coaxed me up, over
and through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, I am safely home, in
my office, staring at my nemesis out the window. After four trips out to the
mailbox and back, you would think I would be brimming with the confidence to
tackle that driveway and get to work tomorrow. But, I am not. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">When I ride with my hubby, in
and out, I close my eyes and say a little prayer until we roll to a stop at the
end. I can’t do that when I am behind the wheel, although perhaps the result
would be better and my wheels would just follow the track on their own accord.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">We’ll see what happens tomorrow. You say a prayer for me, and I'll wear a seatbelt. And, if it’s too bad, I will abandon it all and walk back in.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-62124904677261344372020-10-29T08:07:00.010-07:002020-11-07T18:09:09.458-08:00HALLOWEENSIE<p>I have written two Halloween rhymes for your amusement. I am rising to a challenge posted on Susanna Leonard Hill's website (<a href="https://susannahill.com/category/halloweensie-contest/" target="_blank">Halloweensie Contest</a>) to write a story for children that is under a 100 words. It must include some form of the words "skeleton", "mask" and "creep". I wrote two. Hope you enjoy.</p><p>TRICK? OR TREAT?</p><p>by Ginny Neil</p><p></p><div></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Grab your mask. Let’s trick-or-treat,<br />down this creepy, spooky street.<br />We’ll ask for something good to eat,<br />at the witch’s door.<br /><u1:p> <br /></u1:p>She’ll open it and offer things,<br />like crispy, crunchy bug wing-dings, <br />or battered deep-fried fruit-bat wings.<br />We’ll smile and ask for more.<br /><u1:p> <br /></u1:p>We’ll sample sun-dried bison chips,<br />or maybe chewy hippo lips<br />dipped in pureed python hips,<br />or snack on slug fillet.<br /><u1:p> <br /></u1:p>We’ll be polite, won’t eat and run.<br />She’ll serve dessert when we are done.<br />Some crunchy, sugared skeleton,<br />or toad with warts flambé.<br /><u1:p> <br /></u1:p>Then, we’ll decide.<br />What did we eat?<br />A gory trick<br />or gourmet treat?<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">THE ELETONKS</p><p class="MsoNormal">by Ginny Neil</p><p class="MsoNormal">A skeleton’s job on Halloween night</p><p class="MsoNormal">is making kids scream with terrible fright.</p><p class="MsoNormal">But this Halloween, poor skeleton stumbled, </p><p class="MsoNormal">as he crept down the hill, getting totally jumbled.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Now, eletonks’ bones are all out of place.</p><p class="MsoNormal">A mask full of tarsals makes up his face.</p><p class="MsoNormal">His femurs are feet. His skull’s near his knee.</p><p class="MsoNormal">His spine’s tangled up where his left arm should be.</p><p class="MsoNormal">His fidgety fingers hang down from his thighs,</p><p class="MsoNormal">and two broken ribs poke out of his eyes.</p><p class="MsoNormal">So, giggle at eletonks. Trust me you’d tremble</p><p class="MsoNormal">if skeleton’s bones could just</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal">reassemble.</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-62708445866535177072020-06-04T13:28:00.002-07:002020-06-04T13:37:14.393-07:00Riding in Trucks<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 22px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; position: relative;">
<br /></h3>
<div>
This is a re-write of an oldie but goodie. It's still true.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-1555469151859617859" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 620px;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-outline-level: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My boys started making engine sounds as
soon as they could talk. Their forks were bulldozers at the supper table, their
hands were boats in the bathtub, and their bodies were race-cars in the
supermarket aisles. <b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have never understood this fascination
with all things motor. I prefer to ride something that breathes, so I
bought a couple of horses in hopes that I could bond with my two
motor-heads, After a season or two of trotting and cantering they abandoned me
for the four- wheeler. My oldest explained it this way. “Horses buck, engines
don't."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> I
beg to differ. A horse wants to stay upright as much as I do, but a lawn mower
doesn’t care if it lives or dies. That’s why I never drive one on the side of a
slope. A lawn mower can definitely buck you off, and then cut your foot off for
spite.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> I
once dated a fellow who loved bucking souped-up trucks across impossible slopes
covered in rocks and mud. I rode with him, once. He yee-ha’d as we skidded
sideways down a 90 degree incline and climbed cow-sized rocks while I pressed
my knees against the dashboard, clenched the door handle and prepared to
dismount as soon as the wheels stopped spinning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-outline-level: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">
When I married My Own Farmer, I never guessed he came complete with a variety
of motor-induced hazards. We’d be skidding along a comfortable, horizontal
track in knee-deep snow as we carried hay out to the cows, when suddenly he
would point the nose of the truck uphill and start digging a path to the top
through the ten foot drifts. The whine of the engine was always drowned
out by the whine of his wife as we topped the rise. <br />
On another occasion, My Own Farmer offered me the chance to
go along with him and spread some lime. His poetic descriptions of the vistas I
would see, outweighed my common sense and I probably would have enjoyed the
scenery if I had ever opened my eyes.<br />
Dangers lurk right outside my door, as well. Just
yesterday, after mucking out the chicken house, I asked my husband to help me
spread some of the litter and manure. When we got halfway down the
driveway, he dropped the truck into low range. I looked at him
suspiciously. “I thought we were going to spread this on that nice flat
meadow in front of the house.” In answer, he turned the truck straight up the
tallest hill. “It will do the most good here,” he replied. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-outline-level: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s been raining a lot lately so of
course we hung up in thick mud creeping down the side of the ridge. “Now,
we’ll see what this baby can do,” my motor-head hubby laughed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-outline-level: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“This baby is going to hit you if you don’t
let me out,” I replied, but by that time, we had managed to spin our way
through the muck to solid ground.<br />
We rode up the hill the rest of the way in silence. My eyes
were closed and I was too busy praying to engage in frivolous conversation. When
we finished forking the last bit of manure off, I walked down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-outline-level: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After years of riding along with him, I
knew my husband would bring the truck off of the hill safely. But, he
could concentrate better if I wasn’t screaming all the way down.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
</div>
Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-79227817513671541462019-11-09T17:37:00.002-08:002019-11-10T04:53:55.186-08:00A Perfect Afternoon<br />
The weather today was just right for burning the last of the garden debris. Temperature in the upper thirties with a light wind blowing south so the smoke and sparks would flow out over the garden and not toward the house.<br />
After I raked the dry zinnia stalks into a pile and then pulled up the soggy cardboard mulch, I twisted a piece of newspaper and shoved it in the driest part. One match later, smoke curled up from the edges of the haphazard pile and then twisted as the wind picked up. That wind was important for getting the wet cardboard to burn, and soon I had a roaring fire.<br />
I could see vehicles pausing as they raced down the road a quarter mile across the field in front of my house. Wet debris burns with a great deal of smoke, and I'm sure the drivers were wondering what was on fire. I considered trying to send some smoke signals to let them know everything was under control, but had to be content with the fact that I was wearing a blaze orange hoodie, and they could probably see me moving around from the road.<br />
In an hour, the pile was reduced to fine ash, a perfect supplement for spreading out on the garden to add minerals to the soil.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgilCSKvn1Sz9-Ljd1vii42CEasrZp1L3_h1NjkdY0d4Pn570hldeC_lG6FsY3vcwEGCjEbiGOcS2tzDmytj-WKtiddbAM0J6mcpby5OhAn-ZwwYBa11a1miLjlyxaJN5SCyFVQcu_c93U/s1600/fire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgilCSKvn1Sz9-Ljd1vii42CEasrZp1L3_h1NjkdY0d4Pn570hldeC_lG6FsY3vcwEGCjEbiGOcS2tzDmytj-WKtiddbAM0J6mcpby5OhAn-ZwwYBa11a1miLjlyxaJN5SCyFVQcu_c93U/s640/fire.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
As I sat there, with the last of the heat warming my face, I heard a small whistle and then a fluttery beating of wings. A gray-backed, butternut-chested, tufted titmouse landed on one of the sunflower plants drooping on the edge of the garden and studied me. I think he was hoping I'd leave. My bright orange coat must have puzzled him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3z2abKM765-vVjfDCFsMoOaTYsxYrSdXi0QykCKE_apOZFhfj-mtagPUuIYOGeQsRUZJmZ8r_d-lF3uXaIq5EZ5djkACyQtOsiBAaFPa7C_g-4RtQVE3xmks2EwmroBRHj8GAEpW6OE/s1600/nuthatch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="782" data-original-width="1043" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3z2abKM765-vVjfDCFsMoOaTYsxYrSdXi0QykCKE_apOZFhfj-mtagPUuIYOGeQsRUZJmZ8r_d-lF3uXaIq5EZ5djkACyQtOsiBAaFPa7C_g-4RtQVE3xmks2EwmroBRHj8GAEpW6OE/s640/nuthatch.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I did leave, but returned a minute later with camera in hand. It took the curious little bird and his twitter-pated cousins about fifteen minutes to decide that the big orange blob sitting under the stalks was harmless.<br />
Soon, the air was full of fluttering and singing as the little birds gathered enough courage to land on the burgeoning heads and dig for seeds.<br />
I think that there can't be anything more perfect than sitting in the golden light of a fading fall afternoon and watching nuthatches dig into sunflower heads, tossing debris left and right as they pry out their supper. As soon as a seed was firmly pinched between upper and lower bill, the little birds leaped into the air and in their peculiar up-down, up-down manner of flight made their way to the wooden slats of the grape vine where they, tap, tap, tapped until they broke open their particular seed.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhohKpE_9MAHG_38_iGbTSApzZTmAacfIhiLer-csSssaFGE5pFMgDshJOBvwtRUlEHFQYUXzI2qrgH0NnB9i4l0Rd65Pwx797aY_5hA29tvYIxFsS8wYQbw5xcRWeZTDy23hSatKusvbw/s1600/upside+down.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhohKpE_9MAHG_38_iGbTSApzZTmAacfIhiLer-csSssaFGE5pFMgDshJOBvwtRUlEHFQYUXzI2qrgH0NnB9i4l0Rd65Pwx797aY_5hA29tvYIxFsS8wYQbw5xcRWeZTDy23hSatKusvbw/s640/upside+down.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
As more birds discovered the bounty, some jostling and flapping helped establish the pecking order.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20sWguDuwW9S4p2GR_jtrrr5upKuO7cRc8fmbGMkmPW8qDrVXGS3udiOHHMNqMAFPlQ2FRncKWOPDKU7C9oLZ1jKVHYWAWch5gua0nHgjwqUNsefSlO3bZJvn6lcxm47cz7uEDBr_Hl8/s1600/two+nuthatches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="712" data-original-width="949" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20sWguDuwW9S4p2GR_jtrrr5upKuO7cRc8fmbGMkmPW8qDrVXGS3udiOHHMNqMAFPlQ2FRncKWOPDKU7C9oLZ1jKVHYWAWch5gua0nHgjwqUNsefSlO3bZJvn6lcxm47cz7uEDBr_Hl8/s640/two+nuthatches.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I watched the show for as long as my rear end could handle the cold ground. Before leaving, I took a look at the bird's handiwork. There were still enough seeds left for another day or two of fun.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPh9AbVfeFEqMwWopKZi7iFxoZJYGa8nG1FP_Qb8Bh3tu_p0QkuYJ4TfoqxDHJ7Skq8KcDMZppkmQUK2AXFpc6iqKL3xBISga0RsgcG56VrByiZhlhqEQyd8lz_mmLPqFNFGf2hKS4zg0/s1600/sunflower+seeds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPh9AbVfeFEqMwWopKZi7iFxoZJYGa8nG1FP_Qb8Bh3tu_p0QkuYJ4TfoqxDHJ7Skq8KcDMZppkmQUK2AXFpc6iqKL3xBISga0RsgcG56VrByiZhlhqEQyd8lz_mmLPqFNFGf2hKS4zg0/s640/sunflower+seeds.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I gathered a few for myself and then slipped inside to warm up by the woodstove. Even five hours later, my shirt still carries the sweet scent of smoke. Today, I stored up a treasure of memories against the day in the future when I can no longer sit on cold ground and watch earnest little birds making a living in the remnants of my summer garden.Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-16256605921502127732019-09-16T07:13:00.000-07:002019-09-16T07:13:48.127-07:00When Out on the Hills There Arose Such a Clatter At four o'clock in the morning, Joe and I both sat bolt upright in our bed. He scrambled for slippers, taking time to also pull on pants and a shirt, while I, in only my flimsy nightgown, bounded down the steps, stepped into my boots and ran outside.<br />
When I stepped out with my oversize flashlight, the cacophony of snarling and howling stopped. Coyotes.<br />
This is the second time in two weeks we've been awakened this way, but this time was worse. We had heard both of our dogs hunting rabbits near the house when we first jumped up. Now, there was nothing but silence.<br />
Just last week, our neighbor, Mike, lost a beloved old dog to a pack of coyotes. He told me that he, too, awakened to clamor and went outside. Unlike us, he spotted the three coyotes circling one of his dogs. Mike called the dog to the house and then went inside for a gun. When he returned, the coyotes had vanished. The next morning he found his beloved older dog dead right where the coyotes had been. He'd forgotten she was outside.<br />
The eerie silence following such intense pack-noise put my hackles up as I thought about Mike's dog. Luke, one of my beagles, came running, but the other was absent and silent. We searched for forty-five minutes, our flashlights stabbing deep into the shadowed woods but no dog answered our call.<br />
The story has a happy ending. Rex, the other dog, was curled up in the flowerbed next to the house when we returned.<br />
But, three nights ago, a lamb didn't have such a happy ending. When I hear eagles crying and see vultures circle, it usually means that there's been an animal death somewhere on the farm, so when we heard eagles that afternoon, we jumped in the truck and went for a look-see.<br />
There were four or five vultures riding the currents above the hill across the road and when we crested it and then pulled partially down the other side, the whoosh and flap of eagles rising up through the trees drew us to the site.<br />
One of our lambs lay, ribs exposed, in a ditch next to a culvert. The flies were making a meal, but I have a fairly good tolerance for stink, so I walked over and prodded the carcass with a stick. When the lambs eyeless head rolled back, I spotted the tell-tale toothmarks. She'd been bitten and strangled by a coyote.<br />
This is not the first time I've written about coyotes.( <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5976053861104438979#editor/target=post;postID=9073289535692128240;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=72;src=postname">The Coyote Tree</a>) While I am such a big fan of nature and all things outside, coyotes are not on my favorites list. I've told this story in graphic detail because that's the way it happened and it explains why I'm frustrated by those who have lobbied to no longer allow us to set poisonous traps for the coyotes because someone's dog found one and died when he bit into it.<br />
We lose an average of 15 to 25 lambs a year to coyotes and as I said in my previous post, the lambs are not eaten, just slaughtered and nibbled on. Senseless waste.<br />
We've noticed that the coyotes around here are getting bolder. Neighbor Dennis shot at some in his front yard the other night. He thought maybe they had come looking for his cats. I told my husband that when I moved to the mountains I never envisioned the bear and coyotes being such cozy neighbors. I am frightened to go out at night without a dog and a flashlight.<br />
It seems to me that more and more people have become "Bambi-ized." All furry critters are cute and the humans trying to make a living in spite of them are the enemy. Tell that to my farmer friends who've lost acres of corn to raccoons and bears that they can't get permits to shoot. <br />
When a predator, in the wild kills another animal, it's considered an act of nature. When a human kills an animal it's considered a crime. My daughter-in-law has a student who is serving jail time for killing a dog he knows was killing his sheep. After asking neighbors to please keep the dog away, the student took matters into his own hands the next time he saw the dog on his property. Now, he's in jail for a considerable amount of time.<br />
A child's life was worth less than the dog's.<br />
You, who've read other essays on my blog, know that I walk a line between absolute adoration of all things wild and a growing awareness that the world is not as pretty as I thought it was when my closest neighbors were all human.<br />
Right or wrong, I've changed. Last night proved it to me, again.Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-57881510606872141012019-09-15T08:25:00.001-07:002019-09-15T08:33:56.802-07:00Hanging On by a Thread Although I'm not always happy to see a spider, especially if I find her wandering around the kitchen, I am enraptured by the magic silk thread they spin. Last spring, as I was perched on the hill above my house, I noticed glints and glimmers of light floating through the gold haze that signals afternoon is drawing to an end.<br />
I watched intently as more and more of these shimmers wafted across the field in front of me. They were the tiny silk parachutes of spiderlings, who drifted, legs outstretched, dangling and swinging in the softest breeze. If you have read <i>Charlotte's Web </i>then you know that each baby spider journeys away from home on the slenderest balloon the air can move.<br />
There were hundreds of them floating and landing, and two or three even ended up dangling from my hat brim before scurrying up and re-launching themselves. Now, if you hate spiders, you need to know that these creatures were no bigger than the head of a pin. Not very threatening at all.<br />
Spider webs are the most amazing material. My research revealed that they are built from sequences of proteins, are stored as a liquid concentrate in the spider's abdomen, are stronger, when compared by weight, than Kevlar, and the common garden spider can produce up to seven different kinds. Silk that is resistant to bacteria, silk that is sticky, silk that is smooth, silk that is less brittle and so on.<br />
But, it's the beauty of webs that captures my heart. I'll never forget the morning, twenty years ago, that I was walking up the side of a mountain. The fog hadn't burned off, and the sun was just brightening the world: a luminescence that briefly lit hundreds of spiral cobwebs spun in an old snag silhouetted against the lemon yellow fog. The webs, spangled with dew, looked like silver beaded necklaces and ornaments strung from twig to twig. I didn't have my camera, but I've spent the last twenty years prowling about with my camera on foggy mornings trying to find and capture that picture.<br />
The following series of pictures were caught on just such a morning. The fog didn't hang around, but the webs did, and until the sun peeked over the rim of the hill, they sparkled with droplets captured from the mist. I didn't find that elusive shot of a silk decorated snag, but the webs are still much to marvel at and remind me of the exquisite care God took as he created this world.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpbcXSwWrHfjzmhrWaS2hVueNNG_nY_GSlSaPhahCu3S8lD0UDyQ37ivB5Q-NK7A_dvuZYGZeDUUiH4nLKJgCE_DwQegvDWGQjxlE_DOB5k09cQv4PUG0Cos4kAHXxwYgigGhQJNopcAY/s1600/IMG_0358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="824" data-original-width="1183" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpbcXSwWrHfjzmhrWaS2hVueNNG_nY_GSlSaPhahCu3S8lD0UDyQ37ivB5Q-NK7A_dvuZYGZeDUUiH4nLKJgCE_DwQegvDWGQjxlE_DOB5k09cQv4PUG0Cos4kAHXxwYgigGhQJNopcAY/s640/IMG_0358.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzTkhGyv7cFWAVTAWwHWLzs23XazxLTVPMY-uaKPi_qHM-aT3ILstwaKp2PfOCKkCszaxvo21CNIl6JvJ8I2yvmFr0SRsbNHNpDwS6otmtfB6ARUGXo0xpUWSzH1YWBG1W_F7x-ZYraVc/s1600/IMG_0344.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzTkhGyv7cFWAVTAWwHWLzs23XazxLTVPMY-uaKPi_qHM-aT3ILstwaKp2PfOCKkCszaxvo21CNIl6JvJ8I2yvmFr0SRsbNHNpDwS6otmtfB6ARUGXo0xpUWSzH1YWBG1W_F7x-ZYraVc/s640/IMG_0344.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<span id="goog_406950804"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2guttzoMBycpS6-5BJMFyuhOY12dpLkElkRU4e3-0UdbOyK6i2WJucg2ogdWyQaXzTmgsAQyVD_c3VsYbdUH7iwj3ihCygk3vmrfII_a2ZUzJsal3VC9z2ySTuHKbFy9e0p4Pryyuaxg/s1600/IMG_0481+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2guttzoMBycpS6-5BJMFyuhOY12dpLkElkRU4e3-0UdbOyK6i2WJucg2ogdWyQaXzTmgsAQyVD_c3VsYbdUH7iwj3ihCygk3vmrfII_a2ZUzJsal3VC9z2ySTuHKbFy9e0p4Pryyuaxg/s640/IMG_0481+-+Copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrIYMCpTObvesn0sLQfW2-oizfp3Y4OK9VTaSUYQbXMaSA3BxufD5UMe9q_RF2cSu-K-ByXHO8l-FC7_KvFmS2yCGNCAlUnM46t77_5KOi64AfoJlMJPPd5FuOqvoMW2i2i9-7nXEh_5c/s1600/IMG_0395.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrIYMCpTObvesn0sLQfW2-oizfp3Y4OK9VTaSUYQbXMaSA3BxufD5UMe9q_RF2cSu-K-ByXHO8l-FC7_KvFmS2yCGNCAlUnM46t77_5KOi64AfoJlMJPPd5FuOqvoMW2i2i9-7nXEh_5c/s640/IMG_0395.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ7olz2ir0d8d5-RSK6aKgVYAK6it4zW4wrlI9rDfni0LGdq00v2OKeX6pm7fUyjk1IJIVf20m3wA2zs_5pP4dIX6siBG-YzRpSOzH8booLp0nsN675n2SAbK9R4x4soWD85CGduZdQ_Y/s1600/IMG_0399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ7olz2ir0d8d5-RSK6aKgVYAK6it4zW4wrlI9rDfni0LGdq00v2OKeX6pm7fUyjk1IJIVf20m3wA2zs_5pP4dIX6siBG-YzRpSOzH8booLp0nsN675n2SAbK9R4x4soWD85CGduZdQ_Y/s640/IMG_0399.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
For the next picture, I waded through a field of tall grass to be positioned correctly for the rising sun.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgadjK8p81o61X_qGJu_7GH9IZJMZ3qo-QAdMYKzknrda3nuGDjK2vHb1a-c1X9L1-jJamNywlNZI2HZAR7chMODb8Iua6BxSfLa34EITQZs6UtALdR2SBD3a8qLHDvI8WYZIlodxry2oQ/s1600/IMG_0451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgadjK8p81o61X_qGJu_7GH9IZJMZ3qo-QAdMYKzknrda3nuGDjK2vHb1a-c1X9L1-jJamNywlNZI2HZAR7chMODb8Iua6BxSfLa34EITQZs6UtALdR2SBD3a8qLHDvI8WYZIlodxry2oQ/s640/IMG_0451.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I couldn't see them until I stood still, but when I did, I counted 15 within arm's reach.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUg2bY0q85Oa2cMZoC7OZ0YjiERgqJNMzsXiW0Z82J32ZXeCf33PXAy2i9Z71DRqFLeftgWrz5wj4M7wdnNH0E7jAr5ELlzMWEcSWoTF0Gxn-d0ij8M_vj4ciMLg7SZz6nXmKR2Kv_ltE/s1600/IMG_0342.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUg2bY0q85Oa2cMZoC7OZ0YjiERgqJNMzsXiW0Z82J32ZXeCf33PXAy2i9Z71DRqFLeftgWrz5wj4M7wdnNH0E7jAr5ELlzMWEcSWoTF0Gxn-d0ij8M_vj4ciMLg7SZz6nXmKR2Kv_ltE/s640/IMG_0342.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The architects of my favorite spiral webs, hard at work repairing damage done through the night of trapping and eating their supper.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ZB1Sd6RK7sDM99srKMmFWFVY9cZHqO31rVubOBIpeopIywufMB49_T2tOD0_t5CsRgvdYM5aIh47nytEnJ94EIKJN_tvguxKNj0Ia-vq-Vh_jgyseTamRDIqmr01n_zQn81bP0DeWKg/s1600/IMG_0406+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ZB1Sd6RK7sDM99srKMmFWFVY9cZHqO31rVubOBIpeopIywufMB49_T2tOD0_t5CsRgvdYM5aIh47nytEnJ94EIKJN_tvguxKNj0Ia-vq-Vh_jgyseTamRDIqmr01n_zQn81bP0DeWKg/s640/IMG_0406+-+Copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Intent on being in position to photograph this web just as it was lit by the sun, I had missed seeing what I was wading through. A little disconcerted, I was wearing shorts after all, I picked my way carefully back through the grass and managed not to disturb any webs or pick up any eight-legged hitchikers. The spiders were probably more relieved than I was when I made it back un-silked and un-spidered.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Although I didn't ultimately find the snaggy, silky picture I still dream about, I re-kindled my appreciation for how much of the world we don't see until we take time to stand still and notice. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span id="goog_406950803"></span><br />
<div style="height: 0px;">
x</div>
Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-69746308349222887842019-07-21T10:47:00.003-07:002019-07-21T10:47:50.238-07:00Generally Important<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 22px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; position: relative;">
This is a repost of something I wrote two years ago. It's still true and we've lost two more stores since I wrote it.</h3>
<div class="post-header" style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 10.8px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 0px 0px 1.5em;">
<div class="post-header-line-1">
</div>
</div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-3484638044128862963" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 630px;">
In a place where not one box store exists and no grocery stores offer food or cleaning products, I am grateful for the small general stores that still dot the landscape. Each valley sports at least one and locals know that there is more to them than meets the eye.<br /> My first introduction to the friendly service offered by our general stores came shortly after moving to Highland from the city. I was accustomed to banks that had drive-through windows and late hours but our little bank hadn't acquired such a window. I discovered that it didn't matter when I began shopping at the H and H Cash Store, which was just a short walk from where I lived. The owner offered credit. I could walk in, pick up a few things I needed, and then ask Gaye or one of her sons to "just put it on the list." At the end of the month or whenever I felt like it, I paid off my bill and they scratched my name out of the little notebook that they kept.<br /> Then one weekend, a friend asked me to travel over the mountains with her. I didn't have a dime in my pockets and the banks were closed. After pondering my dilemma for a few moments, I walked up the street to the H and H Cash. "Gaye, have you ever considered letting someone have a little money on credit?" I asked.<br /> She looked up from the sweatshirt she was stitching designs into (you could buy one of her handmade designs for just $8.00) and peered at me over her glasses. Her blue eyes twinkled. "How much do you need?" she asked.<br /> "Oh, I think ten dollars would do," I replied.<br /> Without another word, she opened the cash drawer, drew out a ten and handed it over. Then she wrote my name in her little book. "I know you're good for it," she said.<br /> That was my first introduction to the hidden charms of general stores. I later discovered that H and H was also the place to drop off your dry cleaning, which would be picked up by a truck from over the mountains and returned clean and crisp a week later. H and H Cash was a treasure cave of supplies. The interior smelled of apples, onions and shoe leather. If they didn't have what you needed hidden somewhere in one of the dark corners, then they would order it for you. They even carried topographic maps of the area.<br /> When I married My Farmer, I moved one valley east and discovered Ralston's Grocery. Anna Lou also allowed credit and as an added bonus, the post office was located behind the south wall. There was a little window with bars and lots of cute metal mail boxes. Ralston's was the center of the Highland News Network. I used to jokingly tell people that I first discovered I was pregnant when I heard it being discussed while picking up my mail.<br /> The store changed hands, becoming Stonewall Grocery, and the post office was forced by the government to move to new digs dedicated solely to sorting and stuffing. But, Patsy and Linda, recognizing that there was still an unmet need began allowing people to leave messages for each other on their back counter. Not too long ago, a fellow offered a telescope for sale on Facebook. I offered to buy it and he left it at Stonewall Grocery for me to pick up. When he dropped it off, he exchanged it for an envelope I'd left for him with payment. You can't do that at the local Walmart.<br /> Stonewall Grocery is also a great place to pick up supper. They offer Wonder Roast chickens for overworked housewives and they are so popular that you have to call ahead in the morning and reserve one for supper that night. I have friends two valleys over, who will make a special trip just so they can enjoy the juicy goodness of a Wonder Roast. Stonewall also has a deli and makes sandwiches, homemade brownies and fresh baked banana bread. They even give up precious shelf space for a satellite of our local library so you can check out a book to read while you eat.<br /> Other general stores in the area meet different needs. There are pizzas at one, chicken tenders at another and taco salads at a third. If I want oysters for Christmas, I can order them from the Country Convenience in Blue Grass. If I'm craving homemade bread, cookies or pies, Mountain Oasis bakes on Tuesdays and Fridays.They also sell outdoor wood furnaces and guns. If I want some of the best sharp cheddar cheese on the East Coast, then a stop at the little store in Headwaters is necessary. Headwaters also offers really inexpensive bottles of water. I asked about this and the owner said, "Well, people come here and they are thirsty. There's no where else to get water, so it's a service I offer." None of this is advertised. Small businesses have a tiny profit margin and can't afford it. But, word of mouth is enough. You just have to live here long enough to find it all.<br /> Now some of the little stores are closing. Our population is shrinking and there aren't enough people to spread the money around, although our swelling summer population helps. The general store in Mill Gap will soon lock its doors. They were the last outpost for a cold coke if you were travelling west over the mountains. Hightown lost its general store when the owner, Jacob Hevener, got too old to work there. They used to offer Woolrich clothes and Red Wing shoes. H and H Cash closed its doors three years ago. I guess I won't be getting money on credit anymore.<br /> I recently discovered that every time I use a credit card, it costs the store where I use it two to three percent of the sale. In addition, if my card awards points, the store pays for that, too. Doesn't seem like much unless your bottom line is tiny anyway. So, I have made it my mission to shop locally for everything I can buy and to pay cash for all of it. One day when small stores have been forced out of business, we will miss them. Not just for their convenience, but for the rich life they brought to our mountains and valleys. For the friendly greetings, the community support and the ways they made our lives a little easier. I hope that day never comes.<br /> </div>
Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-25343017850470232272019-06-22T15:03:00.003-07:002019-06-22T15:05:07.989-07:00Antagonizing the FarmLast weekend, My Own Farmer and I decided to take a short trip to the eastern side of the state to visit my sister, my brother and my dad for Father's Day. We slept in, since it felt like a holiday, and as I packed our small suitcase at eight o'clock that morning, I thought that we would have an hour for a leisurely breakfast and maybe we could even sit out on the porch and enjoy a slow cup of coffee before we left.<br />
<br />
The thing is: a farm is a jealous mistress. She laughs at you when you start to plan. Then she throws obstacles in your way. As I folded the last pair of jeans, I heard cars honking out on the road in front of our house. A glance out the window confirmed my suspicions. The sheep we had herded back under the fence last night, were once again free-ranging the roadside. We had made repairs, but sheep are pretty good at finding a new hole.<br />
<br />
There's no way we could leave town with our frisky flock foraging at will, so I hollered for My Own Farmer and we drove the half mile out, shooed the sheep back under the fence and did another quick repair, crossing our fingers that it would hold until we returned.<br />
<br />
We drove back to the house and I slipped out to check on the chickens and make sure they had enough food and water to last until we returned. All the chickens ran up when I called except one. She'd looked kind of poorly for a few days, but this morning the issue was obvious. Her crop was distended like a balloon and a quick check on the internet made it pretty clear that my only choice was to operate.<br />
<br />
My Own Farmer and I gathered what we'd need. Sterilized surgical scissors, a syringe, warm water, needle, thread and a surgical clamp. He held her while I cut into the crop, used the clamp to pull a softball size mass of compacted grass out, squirted the opening clean with warm water and then stitched her back up.<br />
<br />
We still had thirty minutes before we were slated to leave, but as I was pulling out some eggs for a quick fry, I heard a commotion out behind the house. The cows had knocked the chicken gate open and then bumped it shut, penning themselves in the chicken lot.<br />
<br />
I headed out and after ten minutes of red-faced running, I pushed the cows back out the gate and shut it so they couldn't get back in. Back to the house, but no more time for breakfast or that leisurely cup of coffee. I made a quick clothing change and we were in the car only ten minutes later than we had planned. We picked up two sausage biscuits at the local mom and pop on the way out and enjoyed our leisurely cup of coffee on the road.<br />
<br />
Sometimes my family wonders why I don't plan for vacations and visits months ahead of time. I know better than to antagonize the farm with foolish plans. It's always better to surprise her. Our chances of actually leaving are better that way.Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-37368358208132272922019-04-22T06:04:00.000-07:002019-04-22T06:04:18.707-07:00My Favorite Color of YearWhen I taught English, I had my students memorize poetry and one of their favorites was a Robert Frost poem, "Nothing Gold Can Stay."<br />
In listening to students recite this year after year, I learned it by heart as well and find myself, every spring, whispering it under my breath as I watch the rising green.<br />
<br />
Nature's first green is gold.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-fWxqCVRpjiz-JtvCP2p1A54iJtp58kKbAErwnX_7t5ohwhc9raUOGtfNIZEPMYlPfw7MVuaSDEmSx_scLU-4BQnPNIr6toQqbTfdhozZM6c3gn5ReuFuZay8hTE0eTMRmOfZoCJ5_Q/s1600/IMG_0194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-fWxqCVRpjiz-JtvCP2p1A54iJtp58kKbAErwnX_7t5ohwhc9raUOGtfNIZEPMYlPfw7MVuaSDEmSx_scLU-4BQnPNIr6toQqbTfdhozZM6c3gn5ReuFuZay8hTE0eTMRmOfZoCJ5_Q/s640/IMG_0194.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Her hardest hue to hold.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjirWcinGPeMbF93USHzFKDosO1kCwBMfwlmPlzKCvF43xaVGungs89tZNEQ462Pn5xZeY1p2WL9CdEACD5_-iDV8kYHvjPrRDvuAuZMcOw3OdWHRvzp0Qqx2I2sn-8vf1Gn2mu3pk0uYM/s1600/IMG_0198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjirWcinGPeMbF93USHzFKDosO1kCwBMfwlmPlzKCvF43xaVGungs89tZNEQ462Pn5xZeY1p2WL9CdEACD5_-iDV8kYHvjPrRDvuAuZMcOw3OdWHRvzp0Qqx2I2sn-8vf1Gn2mu3pk0uYM/s640/IMG_0198.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Her early leaf's a flower;<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhtvrKK8ifelLdalJ9v6AR4PKObGKHkRkiYXumwj8wNBQNwarfJZ47-Jd8iXvBqU_8uJpc9KMFVOCO5SOO2P66ZqFERmPIWxzKivGM-9xeAbCXGv9WIoUBCeNvA3c83JZ_IrlmWYQbSn4/s1600/IMG_0201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhtvrKK8ifelLdalJ9v6AR4PKObGKHkRkiYXumwj8wNBQNwarfJZ47-Jd8iXvBqU_8uJpc9KMFVOCO5SOO2P66ZqFERmPIWxzKivGM-9xeAbCXGv9WIoUBCeNvA3c83JZ_IrlmWYQbSn4/s640/IMG_0201.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
But only so an hour.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Oc0ceSkUrGZXItRoJ5ypwzRXCW02yxnNhKjY_0Ou3Jm21UPcoxQILCezhyN1GB1bDZntW6gkCWlHR0dovNgPFY1RjUlZDJ09g7Ma7SDnxq9U8tFsR0mGJgbdm030vd5URxpQeFqk6A8/s1600/IMG_0200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Oc0ceSkUrGZXItRoJ5ypwzRXCW02yxnNhKjY_0Ou3Jm21UPcoxQILCezhyN1GB1bDZntW6gkCWlHR0dovNgPFY1RjUlZDJ09g7Ma7SDnxq9U8tFsR0mGJgbdm030vd5URxpQeFqk6A8/s640/IMG_0200.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Then leaf subsides to leaf,<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZIfpCQw-CI_1RZBaQpo_MgczFTCGOR_9gaZJ_9Z8GQgXPw6rWe2aNCJjGOMAtZGizAflG3oFeE4aIcsEo8ItzyLdEMQ6B6GBGCbU3XhPSDZzNli1etWYKSCPaX3e3KwzQPBD1u9XHJg/s1600/IMG_0207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZIfpCQw-CI_1RZBaQpo_MgczFTCGOR_9gaZJ_9Z8GQgXPw6rWe2aNCJjGOMAtZGizAflG3oFeE4aIcsEo8ItzyLdEMQ6B6GBGCbU3XhPSDZzNli1etWYKSCPaX3e3KwzQPBD1u9XHJg/s640/IMG_0207.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
So Eden sank to grief,<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-T-XnTDYKCiLO-KsgVmGUfm0M38T7p6igKAMoposHjZN1J2PZ86lEcRgavyiHQrys3SRcT02nJJSvw2ty38Sr_w6uxnu-bpEubU8kN9bano2dlr81ITEnVX2BdHXAHPwyWtxtnJhc1eg/s1600/IMG_0217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1209" data-original-width="999" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-T-XnTDYKCiLO-KsgVmGUfm0M38T7p6igKAMoposHjZN1J2PZ86lEcRgavyiHQrys3SRcT02nJJSvw2ty38Sr_w6uxnu-bpEubU8kN9bano2dlr81ITEnVX2BdHXAHPwyWtxtnJhc1eg/s640/IMG_0217.JPG" width="528" /></a></div>
<br />
So dawn goes down to day.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNIh-G4R3lF8yrMdugBPTeg78XY2OuUypm0l9EsSa7HKY-dLmNDSBTxBHXKZ9QUWCxLsAkZ4QBztU1Rxbk3EyV3On_egvrPTEC1RKyp0gxQpbZvrVpeft6fgZFgUp-0mm47N-rMA1EyaQ/s1600/IMG_0211.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="796" data-original-width="1200" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNIh-G4R3lF8yrMdugBPTeg78XY2OuUypm0l9EsSa7HKY-dLmNDSBTxBHXKZ9QUWCxLsAkZ4QBztU1Rxbk3EyV3On_egvrPTEC1RKyp0gxQpbZvrVpeft6fgZFgUp-0mm47N-rMA1EyaQ/s640/IMG_0211.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Nothing gold can stay.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4H9RRwTX9s59dbYrS3rTMjkQJ_knrmBaJrsQQoCSp4PZjt-t1PqaLPPC5YRHhrIqtAP35cON-j1Z5wSo1oClW1q2nEic-gFe9nioewvLwOY4rTVtuFRda6taE7jdl-htLrC5DqNSFbE0/s1600/IMG_0214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4H9RRwTX9s59dbYrS3rTMjkQJ_knrmBaJrsQQoCSp4PZjt-t1PqaLPPC5YRHhrIqtAP35cON-j1Z5wSo1oClW1q2nEic-gFe9nioewvLwOY4rTVtuFRda6taE7jdl-htLrC5DqNSFbE0/s640/IMG_0214.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-58733360416345402022019-04-15T17:04:00.003-07:002019-04-15T17:06:24.443-07:00Re-post of April 2012 because the more things change, the more they stay the same.....<div class="MsoNormal">
Seven years ago, this was my post for today. Some things never change. The grass is greening and the animals are roaming...as always. And we are chasing them...as always. <br />
<br />
This time of year brings out the worst in the cows and lambs. They won’t stay where they belong. I knew today was going to be an escapish kind of day when we went out at six thirty this morning to bring in the steers and heifers that were going to market. Of course, they all romped into the pen for food, but they would not and could not seem to romp into the smaller pen where we were trying to corral them. They whirled and kicked and bawled and ran past our outstretched arms. Finally we had all of them in the sorting pen and Joe commenced to tapping rumps and sending various bovines in various directions. He told me to stand in the gap and swing one way for all the animals except number 35. She was to be sent into the smallest pen of all. Well, I penned her and then when I turned to shoo away some other heifers she unpenned herself. It went like that all morning. Finally, we gave up, loaded up anything we could find and decided to sort things out at the Ag Center where the heifers were being sold and the pens are more suited for sorting.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On my way home from the sorting sortie, I saw one of our lambs in the road. He was not too distressed about things until I drove up on him to try and gently persuade him to turn back toward the hole under the fence from whence he had crept. As soon as I left my vehicle, the lost lamb ran as fast as he could north up the road. The hole was south. I jumped back in my vehicle, raced ahead of him, skidded into a neighbor’s driveway, jumped out and began to chase him back south. When some kind friends drove by and saw my middle aged sweating self waving my arms and running pell mell up the road, they stopped to help. The lamb dodged them and fled south past the hole, so they jumped in their truck and raced to get ahead of him, while I huffed and puffed back to my car and spun out of the driveway to keep him from turning north again. It took all three of us to convince that little lamb to make the turn into the gate, but he is safe with the flock for now. Until he decides to escape again.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmfP3tMJXYq7tIBsbIm8l5aVvWY3rypUYxvLGvKSIaksvyw3_lJ-Mv_HMQq4ppsWAmqb_yeO1aXZ67IuhGqzIalQhOAJkf37RJ27puWJRgwB3vbGC7bVHIgeM13w6G4uPa4CChJKLIljc/s1600/sheep+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmfP3tMJXYq7tIBsbIm8l5aVvWY3rypUYxvLGvKSIaksvyw3_lJ-Mv_HMQq4ppsWAmqb_yeO1aXZ67IuhGqzIalQhOAJkf37RJ27puWJRgwB3vbGC7bVHIgeM13w6G4uPa4CChJKLIljc/s640/sheep+5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, when I got home from the chase, I discovered a message on my answering machine. One of our cows was roaming town browsing on the flowers in our neighbors’ yards. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYgGkD_gABvW8iu89v5xaLps60p5CfKbsVAbAC7mVBHRa8QhlHgO0zM_NSEm80OGbAawEOQmzH_XloLS6mu21MAbPl21FtGEFnAN2zr8GD2RjcnM32W5owVYWrxEv-Fte5CFe4Yvwie0U/s1600/000_0060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYgGkD_gABvW8iu89v5xaLps60p5CfKbsVAbAC7mVBHRa8QhlHgO0zM_NSEm80OGbAawEOQmzH_XloLS6mu21MAbPl21FtGEFnAN2zr8GD2RjcnM32W5owVYWrxEv-Fte5CFe4Yvwie0U/s640/000_0060.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Justin agreed to go after her. I think I’ll go up to my studio where there is no phone and no view of the road. </div>
Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-31242454921613589382019-02-25T07:58:00.000-08:002019-02-25T07:58:08.352-08:00THE GIFT OF THE WIND<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We knew it was
coming. The weather stations gave plenty of warning. This was not our first
experience with deep, sighing, thunderous winds, so I finished cooking our
nighttime meal early-- leaving it in the oven to stay warm, filled every
container in the house including the bathtub with water, and then put some ice
in a cooler. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was outside feeding my chickens when I heard a crack then
watched a tree spin, twist and hit the ground. The power went out an hour later.
There were no warning blinks, just lights on one minute. Out the next. You forget
how noisy your house is until it’s not anymore. The refrigerator stopped humming,
the fan that moves air into our living room was quiet. The television silenced.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The worst power outage we’ve ever been through happened
during the first time we ever heard the word “derecho”. We were powerless for
three days and the National Guard set up a post in our county for water and a
hot meal. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was summer so we ate canned food from the cellar that we
heated on our grill, played board games by candlelight, dipped drinking and
flushing water from our spring, and showered in cold river water silvering up
through a hose attached to a gas-powered pump. That was probably my favorite
part of the three-day outage…standing naked in the sunshine, spraying my
husband with cold water, and dancing around screaming and laughing as we hosed
off. The rumble of generators blanketed the county.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This power outage was shorter and quieter. I had planned to
celebrate my oldest son’s birthday, so a peanut butter pie waited in the fridge
along with a bowl of coleslaw. Meanwhile, the ribs I had started earlier were
done. Joe and I jumped in the truck and visited both boys and their wives to
tell them the party was still on.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a magical night. Candles flickered on every surface and
I draped cabinets with my battery-powered Christmas lights. The flames, dancing
in the window of my woodstove, gave a flickery glow to the dining room.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the last paper plate was dropped in the stove, and
left-overs wrapped in foil, I reflected on the gift of the wind. The Danes have
a word for what I felt around my table. It means a special
sort of cozy brought about by low lights, family and good food. The wind gave
us the low lights and the rest of the joy came in the door with my children.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whenever the power goes out, at first there’s a sense of
panic. But at our house it’s usually followed by a sense of grace. Electricity
separates us, sending humans into separate spaces to stare at flickering
screens. When the electricity is out, there’s nothing left for us to do but enjoy
each other. The grace of our family’s love shines in the darkness, outlined by
candles and laughter. Perhaps it’s time to think about the lesson of the wind and
put a little more hygge in our busy lives.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-860855187066829042019-01-02T17:31:00.001-08:002019-01-02T19:29:11.555-08:00Possum Come A Knockin' At the Door*<i>disclaimer--no possums were hurt in the making of this post...</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
It's been happening more and more frequently this winter. Furry critters are hanging out with my hens.<br />
<br />
The first visitor was a baby skunk sniffing around under the nest boxes. I didn't notice him (her?) until I had filled the waterer and feeders. When I turned to gather the eggs, we were both surprised. The puzzled skunk watched me back out slowly. The next morning, it was gone.<br />
<br />
A week later, I reached towards a nest box to gather eggs and was surprised to find an American Opossum curled up, napping in the straw. I keep a small rake in the hen house, so I grabbed that and did my best to annoy the possum out of place.<br />
<br />
The possum hissed and grinned so I could appreciate its fifty sharp teeth, but would not leave the cozy nest. I went to get a camera and when I returned the possum was gone.<br />
<br />
It's been back in the henhouse twice since then. I've started leaving my mother-in-law's old cane there. It's perfect for hooking the possum and dragging it out. Today, after persuading O. Possum to leave, I went to the house and got my camera. My two beagles were barking up in the woods, so I walked up there and found the possum.<br />
<br />
It was doing a great impression of road-kill.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbPlaB-tjE1DDykC-TBb5sOrFPgGyRJDNQuE7Ui8-EtIJ_-krQq6lvr9XI2ylM5SzGFDICvMk6O4cv8l9v99Ae6BlfF8ojBHyOZFIwa7S7z8ySMRo7BlUiTkE_5xcMqavwrKanl-UTSlU/s1600/possum+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbPlaB-tjE1DDykC-TBb5sOrFPgGyRJDNQuE7Ui8-EtIJ_-krQq6lvr9XI2ylM5SzGFDICvMk6O4cv8l9v99Ae6BlfF8ojBHyOZFIwa7S7z8ySMRo7BlUiTkE_5xcMqavwrKanl-UTSlU/s640/possum+1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
No amount of prodding and pulling by the dogs got a reaction<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgF9bI50jIecA7VmYxxoiQqaW-Zzy3WWdYZ1Zfnmzzfya954ajl5GsEa6m33ENrRNxEXB_-vvIICSq8LBmqJdyvRGfVocWb1wTUbL6C2_OsAtPxDhJMOJYN7KfKufUgzhAeqwB2Hk7o9s/s1600/possum+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgF9bI50jIecA7VmYxxoiQqaW-Zzy3WWdYZ1Zfnmzzfya954ajl5GsEa6m33ENrRNxEXB_-vvIICSq8LBmqJdyvRGfVocWb1wTUbL6C2_OsAtPxDhJMOJYN7KfKufUgzhAeqwB2Hk7o9s/s640/possum+6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I called the dogs off and walked back down the mountain to lock them up.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Then I went back to where we'd left the possum. It had revived and was wandering away. I followed at a discreet distance until it stopped. Possums sleep during the day and this one was feeling very nappish.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5YDay8_sY2YiGY-rtss-ZlQzpCDMjJ40ITC4R5TG7lgOtLEnJ9Ri6m0Vc1-iMGcfB_0gpI56WmzWMj9iSOBtrLKgI5B6KDfQ7-UyV5mayhpsvmCD-zIM7GxySB0KdvEN0E4vyzTnzVT4/s1600/possum+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5YDay8_sY2YiGY-rtss-ZlQzpCDMjJ40ITC4R5TG7lgOtLEnJ9Ri6m0Vc1-iMGcfB_0gpI56WmzWMj9iSOBtrLKgI5B6KDfQ7-UyV5mayhpsvmCD-zIM7GxySB0KdvEN0E4vyzTnzVT4/s640/possum+8.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
It yawned several times, then turned and burrowed into a leafy depression.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-SgQtdGdwLRNnElivCODflvDaQBoFg3I8RlpRLyG4jSlceGUxfzQ4XqxpT5oZdFvACFQ4L8NhYh7vVzss-lTRKlyClgbQJj4MI6VhieyrehzM5Ox_1eIuHJqaGT_6x6fCmIUBWBepeBE/s1600/possum+9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-SgQtdGdwLRNnElivCODflvDaQBoFg3I8RlpRLyG4jSlceGUxfzQ4XqxpT5oZdFvACFQ4L8NhYh7vVzss-lTRKlyClgbQJj4MI6VhieyrehzM5Ox_1eIuHJqaGT_6x6fCmIUBWBepeBE/s640/possum+9.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilooJPM5dNvVX1ihnsIF_STJyIifrt48S6BAq-ehes_8cHi_luj0q9lWcSEFEKOFe7zT1AcGii1gNxdkfe0YV-JLzdzPqEwxeJMYMJyC9bcb7Hv5AFloCOKXDDuBFh9pTdaIobUUb8G_Y/s1600/possum+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilooJPM5dNvVX1ihnsIF_STJyIifrt48S6BAq-ehes_8cHi_luj0q9lWcSEFEKOFe7zT1AcGii1gNxdkfe0YV-JLzdzPqEwxeJMYMJyC9bcb7Hv5AFloCOKXDDuBFh9pTdaIobUUb8G_Y/s640/possum+10.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
After a few more pictures, I stopped annoying the possum and left it to nap.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_5EatKAUmFlHElwMz2nGTEBzkEAuBNyPdPvoM6D0Jf8J_cADyKboGk0yH3zLr3MLT7Jwug23vbQ2qgpeUYrigjuWs_TI67bs8DSreFbzFPtX_R3gmHJNnVQ5Yjbfd6t-V_4noIMRZUiI/s1600/possum+14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_5EatKAUmFlHElwMz2nGTEBzkEAuBNyPdPvoM6D0Jf8J_cADyKboGk0yH3zLr3MLT7Jwug23vbQ2qgpeUYrigjuWs_TI67bs8DSreFbzFPtX_R3gmHJNnVQ5Yjbfd6t-V_4noIMRZUiI/s640/possum+14.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
He is nestled above the stream, below the rhododendron, in the middle of the next picture.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-0TNQo_r-12HBanLoKCi3Tso_YfT4aBrg-VJ4dbf5SETyAnUylZjpX0LCYpVyLHLKK9U8vS_Uqzoib7hCa9LY6S7aAG7YVe6n8eY2CfaYv5yX4JQ3kTbJEnaHPIxh2ZxSYMZi9-teUBQ/s1600/possum+12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-0TNQo_r-12HBanLoKCi3Tso_YfT4aBrg-VJ4dbf5SETyAnUylZjpX0LCYpVyLHLKK9U8vS_Uqzoib7hCa9LY6S7aAG7YVe6n8eY2CfaYv5yX4JQ3kTbJEnaHPIxh2ZxSYMZi9-teUBQ/s640/possum+12.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Looking in the other direction, I could see where he'd rather be.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzjgvqWMhG4N3OXxsxLoEnC5ryh7kvI0SWPH__0bD9kB5Yieq73bps__xfLIxUrGbU1Njd7pJ2ju6tPLkPlWvaHQ9Qn6i1PGqnrY7t9OJUJFjSCx3Q3j6rcpN1sePky2MyZWE7UFhcFMA/s1600/possum+13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzjgvqWMhG4N3OXxsxLoEnC5ryh7kvI0SWPH__0bD9kB5Yieq73bps__xfLIxUrGbU1Njd7pJ2ju6tPLkPlWvaHQ9Qn6i1PGqnrY7t9OJUJFjSCx3Q3j6rcpN1sePky2MyZWE7UFhcFMA/s640/possum+13.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
At this point in time, the possum only seems interested in a warm bed, but if it starts eating eggs or killing chickens, then I will be forced to take care of the problem. In that case, my next shots will not be with my camera. I hope it doesn't come to that.Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-7099245834811237972018-12-10T07:00:00.000-08:002018-12-10T07:00:24.229-08:00The Poo in the Pizza Box My teaching life often overflows into my home life, so I hope you won't be surprised when I tell you that I spent an evening a couple of weeks ago making fake poop in my kitchen. Not so I could gross my students out. If I'd wanted to do that I would have created the little rolls and balls out of chocolate and then eaten them as part of my demonstration.<br />
The poop I made was in response to the fact that fake scat (that's what scientists call it) is very expensive.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbgdZKtaxemrXKub1eeF9gyAlUwHAXroflrcEvnnlv557w8jxVUAFHvD6BmdzZH5Z2CWWFQ0A7K_RWLv7GE_OoI5CgJ_QypX8wKGzPcUweu0MYR7KzBwFm-aDRpQdhEHAP-PoOQM_in48/s1600/scat+bucket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="425" data-original-width="425" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbgdZKtaxemrXKub1eeF9gyAlUwHAXroflrcEvnnlv557w8jxVUAFHvD6BmdzZH5Z2CWWFQ0A7K_RWLv7GE_OoI5CgJ_QypX8wKGzPcUweu0MYR7KzBwFm-aDRpQdhEHAP-PoOQM_in48/s200/scat+bucket.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
This little bucket is $64.00.<br />
<br />
So, after shopping around a bit, it seemed like a no-brainer that I should make poop as a craft project. In fact, I'm considering putting my results on Pinterest. I have this feeling there are other teachers out there who would like to save money on their poop purchases.<br />
I couldn't find any recipes for this on-line. In fact, googling the words poop, scat or fake animal poo recipe yields some interesting results. But, nothing I found useful, so I created my own recipe.<br />
I know you are dying to try this yourself, so here it is: one part cocoa powder, one part finely ground oatmeal, one part wet coffee grounds (give them a whirl in your blender to make a black slurry) and two parts craft glue. Add more glue as needed to create a playdough-like consistency. Your add-ins will include steel cut oatmeal, seeds, hair and finely ground grass, depending on the animal.<br />
I used the resulting mixture to form examples of rabbit, racoon, deer, coyote and bear scat. For mouse scat, I just found some of the real stuff in an outbuilding. All of this was baked in an oven until dry, then glued into a pizza box, which adds to the anticipation since all kids will immediately clamor for a slice of pizza as soon as they see the box and you can then open the lid dramatically and offer it to them.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9QdiUbJkqEoFH9KpciMEDSGgTFrohvcz6x0UN4ME3sWu4ny7YNIU8JEwZiY58wBMazNSYSuPGF5X4B6zUFWHtsPn9-7ijpj_wDTvGte4ZSK6QwPMB7hJsRqnuRlUwhDR1Fw0njhEyJ5Y/s1600/DSCN1618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9QdiUbJkqEoFH9KpciMEDSGgTFrohvcz6x0UN4ME3sWu4ny7YNIU8JEwZiY58wBMazNSYSuPGF5X4B6zUFWHtsPn9-7ijpj_wDTvGte4ZSK6QwPMB7hJsRqnuRlUwhDR1Fw0njhEyJ5Y/s320/DSCN1618.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
If you've read this far, without being totally grossed out, then here's a fun game for you:<br />
<br />
Name That Scat<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfTRcML8HCU_heo4dnBsxU13QXlfqI6kLH70DpXAPUyKnau65MChhiTabzY95qxKfznLCG0EuWRtmwTg0iolTL7MGYDcfk0Hvv3blISf7uEFhCmkZwiS75bt553c1oplIKyebPUCzHZWo/s1600/DSCN1624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfTRcML8HCU_heo4dnBsxU13QXlfqI6kLH70DpXAPUyKnau65MChhiTabzY95qxKfznLCG0EuWRtmwTg0iolTL7MGYDcfk0Hvv3blISf7uEFhCmkZwiS75bt553c1oplIKyebPUCzHZWo/s320/DSCN1624.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwYYIsTstHFkofWrFIZhhlRqZN4Fv6q_BgrQXzLWmJndRlkM6FoFupv3f1v_mD_iW-Ea6YmxPQNPBQMcorAa0csSeqVa5PUpVeOpCHK4NM3damAgC59XADx9-_hjpBq__QFGujO4lZN8/s1600/DSCN1625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwYYIsTstHFkofWrFIZhhlRqZN4Fv6q_BgrQXzLWmJndRlkM6FoFupv3f1v_mD_iW-Ea6YmxPQNPBQMcorAa0csSeqVa5PUpVeOpCHK4NM3damAgC59XADx9-_hjpBq__QFGujO4lZN8/s320/DSCN1625.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYj0ozqpfVZ8PZ89Chew8_JurrWTcqNzsn7CwktfQf0juvaRlOp1qXH7GZp6ojX1HyFuO7_Bx1SnOzbnnNpQYNA4bB66yxzpfs8Ipwtz8ulqN4TJq6S-DzBNpUTuiT9kIBDHqZmANQXws/s1600/DSCN1626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYj0ozqpfVZ8PZ89Chew8_JurrWTcqNzsn7CwktfQf0juvaRlOp1qXH7GZp6ojX1HyFuO7_Bx1SnOzbnnNpQYNA4bB66yxzpfs8Ipwtz8ulqN4TJq6S-DzBNpUTuiT9kIBDHqZmANQXws/s320/DSCN1626.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAlJc11Y_S48Ms-_knr1XWcSTOj638TjBVDBMCp4Z5LilFys7Q7mCSsTf_9qxP55Kl9zgf7fwIsDjOcwbx4_FU1I_U84TKxGHRT3lQ2JtayMgQ0iYDcTVDFDG3bWAoq2AGjZrWsSkplRk/s1600/DSCN1630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAlJc11Y_S48Ms-_knr1XWcSTOj638TjBVDBMCp4Z5LilFys7Q7mCSsTf_9qxP55Kl9zgf7fwIsDjOcwbx4_FU1I_U84TKxGHRT3lQ2JtayMgQ0iYDcTVDFDG3bWAoq2AGjZrWsSkplRk/s320/DSCN1630.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvBLPjGv1IXStuaw1Hl_fUOJhMIkSAEWG6AD_LW-Y4ENn-R4kbyEfHM992LZ95WvMRE__5swJB91tCYZYojLl-eESupIKQx-ynSEjk0Dbzn5REQaKAonJvVyatLNzPCh_ZSQml6-Ltnhk/s1600/DSCN1631.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvBLPjGv1IXStuaw1Hl_fUOJhMIkSAEWG6AD_LW-Y4ENn-R4kbyEfHM992LZ95WvMRE__5swJB91tCYZYojLl-eESupIKQx-ynSEjk0Dbzn5REQaKAonJvVyatLNzPCh_ZSQml6-Ltnhk/s320/DSCN1631.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv_MXXYnHXdNfwdioizCsmDq7M6kv3Cq2wWES992eUZ9tG6Edm858gKiFVW7HSETL2m-WUw0zRtc8PLjoMl80vrqJgE8_KcM-XGJx6phU2PJEIKX1vksJfry2woXMbRDkIRe4uaBbXNMU/s1600/DSCN1632.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv_MXXYnHXdNfwdioizCsmDq7M6kv3Cq2wWES992eUZ9tG6Edm858gKiFVW7HSETL2m-WUw0zRtc8PLjoMl80vrqJgE8_KcM-XGJx6phU2PJEIKX1vksJfry2woXMbRDkIRe4uaBbXNMU/s320/DSCN1632.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span id="goog_1829645070"></span><span id="goog_1829645071"></span><br />
Answers: raccoon, mouse, deer, rabbit, bear, coyote.<br />
<br />
Now, next time you go outside you'll know what animal has walked your way.<br />
<br />
If you see the second one from the bottom and it's still steaming, leave quickly and quietly.<br />
Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-18300130921133223682018-09-22T10:38:00.002-07:002018-09-22T10:38:27.367-07:00Something in the Air Calls Them HomeThe monarchs are on the move. In graceful phalanxes they drift over mountains, rivers and cities as they head to Mexico. This is the special fourth generation, the one that lives nine months so that they can complete the trip and then spend the winter hanging in masses from the oyamel firs of the Sierra Madres mountains of Mexico.<br />
<br />
They don't eat anything while they are there, so the monarchs must fuel up on nectar as they travel. They have been landing like feathers shaken out of a pillow on the zinnias I plant every year especially for them.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNhYCeHNX8IiR7bIxAKS6_8VzPGpmvSJVo4S01wRPv1NtUQBL92n-PTnTeyFYpuhkO89lwnsvEnmdcXgXHSfPBb-lPG7PcrXU0Vv5CEWO5ft4gEflSEWOAfP9z5B3CNhMqQFy8rQu5QI/s1600/DSCN1239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNhYCeHNX8IiR7bIxAKS6_8VzPGpmvSJVo4S01wRPv1NtUQBL92n-PTnTeyFYpuhkO89lwnsvEnmdcXgXHSfPBb-lPG7PcrXU0Vv5CEWO5ft4gEflSEWOAfP9z5B3CNhMqQFy8rQu5QI/s640/DSCN1239.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Thursday was a perfect migration day for the butterflies. They fluttered over the goldenrod in the school's Outdoor Learning Lab in such large numbers that my five STEM students trapped and tagged 16 in just 20 minutes.<br />
<br />
When I got home, I pulled a chair up to my zinnia patch and settled in for the show. The butterflies rose and drifted away at my intrusion, but I knew the flowers would draw them back quickly.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz4yU7KkciMkba_K4Na4k4CCEdkU55veKqr5SKE99xUpq8yq_49plSgferS3Yvn-FVmMiqU4Q3zsBvTlVuYFV8oKZisFQNQrjjZgM-BUrB19Rnce6c-OS_fdlN2upS1WiF0rfuUuJhyI8/s1600/DSCN1344.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz4yU7KkciMkba_K4Na4k4CCEdkU55veKqr5SKE99xUpq8yq_49plSgferS3Yvn-FVmMiqU4Q3zsBvTlVuYFV8oKZisFQNQrjjZgM-BUrB19Rnce6c-OS_fdlN2upS1WiF0rfuUuJhyI8/s640/DSCN1344.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
First one, then multiples of flapping, fluttering stained glass joy returned and landed on the flower bar.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWIr6iqrLF6ud75G3PRLVKtXFtKkJB8dNToNEjmIgFg-rcAVXUIjptvskxK9LzJKexv2HkkyfgJaFUDLWeEcnQDC39UoeuMwYfxEyAyFa5crOaolfKBuYe_XECnoeU2lFGQXW-9vl9z4k/s1600/DSCN1266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWIr6iqrLF6ud75G3PRLVKtXFtKkJB8dNToNEjmIgFg-rcAVXUIjptvskxK9LzJKexv2HkkyfgJaFUDLWeEcnQDC39UoeuMwYfxEyAyFa5crOaolfKBuYe_XECnoeU2lFGQXW-9vl9z4k/s640/DSCN1266.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_41hDMN08OyTcfyR5Ed-wtYWF6IHxGwh6mF7uK8THv4RuC-dvmRIpYGYcqbsA_xMc3khs70Hn_1P3fMGDQzOJFr5no7TD1v8is0IHiI_m_GlueDA4AoiUrj9yC5f7xeVFCslyT-Lw_Vs/s1600/DSCN1215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_41hDMN08OyTcfyR5Ed-wtYWF6IHxGwh6mF7uK8THv4RuC-dvmRIpYGYcqbsA_xMc3khs70Hn_1P3fMGDQzOJFr5no7TD1v8is0IHiI_m_GlueDA4AoiUrj9yC5f7xeVFCslyT-Lw_Vs/s640/DSCN1215.JPG" width="544" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
How many can you find in the next picture?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lLVAKF_KGv0Pq31ESclXSKiZBzk5mMBSXciph4X4UPx3g69fRIkznmPs3LSuII-RiI6sMyoVFtBnDGFakxVucC-qQmkplFuBewtt2tbEPryOmzM8HYyJRZE24Gd9x9o6Zywo9aw99yI/s1600/DSCN1310.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1194" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3lLVAKF_KGv0Pq31ESclXSKiZBzk5mMBSXciph4X4UPx3g69fRIkznmPs3LSuII-RiI6sMyoVFtBnDGFakxVucC-qQmkplFuBewtt2tbEPryOmzM8HYyJRZE24Gd9x9o6Zywo9aw99yI/s640/DSCN1310.JPG" width="476" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There was even a spotted intruder. Not sure what kind of butterfly he was, but he dropped down to join his cousins.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJMduqbmWjGdQBen8mGk6bFiDM2IDdN1X2LItsBgAnZlv0VRfMmWDUQAdOmOndzd5Cc0D5ymGOqNjaLRdc-ts-JOgf_H7VHEuABgFTctq93Q_06nmWfU5YyUGu_D6-ASRkRKa8m5Icbw/s1600/DSCN1337.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJMduqbmWjGdQBen8mGk6bFiDM2IDdN1X2LItsBgAnZlv0VRfMmWDUQAdOmOndzd5Cc0D5ymGOqNjaLRdc-ts-JOgf_H7VHEuABgFTctq93Q_06nmWfU5YyUGu_D6-ASRkRKa8m5Icbw/s640/DSCN1337.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
As dusk fell, the last of the butterflies rose up and fluttered off. I know that they roost overnight huddled together for warmth in a roost tree, usually a pine, but although I tried to follow their erratic flights, I never did discover where they landed.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUBaKcRmPd7RxHvu17acdBQFzLk-O-YcNwb-MlNhgmv2W83a78tMmIlASrVQKww3tJK217ilFKMgn0BRa86QjVjtyM3NItHT0EXVS_RkUu0FmXjax4YXAqHvvR2QIOW4BEBdowGy24zT0/s1600/DSCN1252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUBaKcRmPd7RxHvu17acdBQFzLk-O-YcNwb-MlNhgmv2W83a78tMmIlASrVQKww3tJK217ilFKMgn0BRa86QjVjtyM3NItHT0EXVS_RkUu0FmXjax4YXAqHvvR2QIOW4BEBdowGy24zT0/s640/DSCN1252.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
No matter, they left behind joy and a new appreciation for the beautiful world we share. Isn't God amazing?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-75219901964456732612018-09-17T11:00:00.000-07:002018-09-17T11:00:47.335-07:00Pearls of LightThis has been the rainiest summer I can ever remember and we just missed major damage from Hurricane Flo, who left her wet footprints all over North Carolina and southwestern Virginia.<br />
<br />
The ground is so wet that it's like walking on a sponge. Water spurts out everywhere you step.<br />
<br />
Nevertheless, there is beauty in the rain. It creates the most wondrous pearls of light.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmlKHbrN8F2lidBjvxCZpxjmkEni9bTcJYzrF02NB7-l9MMIVLdHrKhnq3CortPdT2vIeinRIKdnm7f7GhJqYx5O7TnZ7o1pm4P_6Wx5INVCID8HwkOerGDQ4t10miku_8L5Q2ZvQ-6aw/s1600/IMG_2327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmlKHbrN8F2lidBjvxCZpxjmkEni9bTcJYzrF02NB7-l9MMIVLdHrKhnq3CortPdT2vIeinRIKdnm7f7GhJqYx5O7TnZ7o1pm4P_6Wx5INVCID8HwkOerGDQ4t10miku_8L5Q2ZvQ-6aw/s640/IMG_2327.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxUCh7I3SNWCNp90obB6TUSd6shuXRfcaUO8GO9Dp8O0g8M1rwxk0rMTDe7lhPmPZ9yaDMKWXjktYNLsuGpAlt37Kya8V8dkLRQbBvIdSfgvS304unTn3MeC_svz27NadTV7PAnSa9S-Q/s1600/IMG_2329.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1096" data-original-width="857" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxUCh7I3SNWCNp90obB6TUSd6shuXRfcaUO8GO9Dp8O0g8M1rwxk0rMTDe7lhPmPZ9yaDMKWXjktYNLsuGpAlt37Kya8V8dkLRQbBvIdSfgvS304unTn3MeC_svz27NadTV7PAnSa9S-Q/s640/IMG_2329.JPG" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9JaBdblml0YFCH6-MYhjALf6lXNqQBE20Y3UtuibBJnJrjW-d0fAa-pww2FVPAm4dJznISlkPP_iBSCw93-uriMigV3S6jucSWQvlFyUy6wMHdHh8EFHAN-TGA17GTpEKlJAqCYu4uBs/s1600/IMG_2335.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="866" data-original-width="1397" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9JaBdblml0YFCH6-MYhjALf6lXNqQBE20Y3UtuibBJnJrjW-d0fAa-pww2FVPAm4dJznISlkPP_iBSCw93-uriMigV3S6jucSWQvlFyUy6wMHdHh8EFHAN-TGA17GTpEKlJAqCYu4uBs/s640/IMG_2335.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheNQS69UwGpyjGePAcPXtz1Wzs9S3jDF1V_Z56gs_UrRmi7YEDDfBqLpdVFHO2qhyphenhyphenMrP6z3ZxeQqb2P0KB_SvaWxyuhFxLy5CkaeNpcM_uFIcIjv8pvmvyrOvUdo7UCYRzs4zE__liMIM/s1600/IMG_2344.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1076" data-original-width="1229" height="560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheNQS69UwGpyjGePAcPXtz1Wzs9S3jDF1V_Z56gs_UrRmi7YEDDfBqLpdVFHO2qhyphenhyphenMrP6z3ZxeQqb2P0KB_SvaWxyuhFxLy5CkaeNpcM_uFIcIjv8pvmvyrOvUdo7UCYRzs4zE__liMIM/s640/IMG_2344.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqhdtC_hi4fIyqHXHgfwmOQra7-dcHXJQrHhqLpFkwo7t03C8aagevvK3IXHhPRhAcwlmnOpb6jaIJ9FH8VSfHtFLlbk-4PG9pdBzgZ7ETD_06fD33hChbL9YrsGSzKSJwGRQL_tCi9S4/s1600/IMG_2355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1110" data-original-width="926" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqhdtC_hi4fIyqHXHgfwmOQra7-dcHXJQrHhqLpFkwo7t03C8aagevvK3IXHhPRhAcwlmnOpb6jaIJ9FH8VSfHtFLlbk-4PG9pdBzgZ7ETD_06fD33hChbL9YrsGSzKSJwGRQL_tCi9S4/s640/IMG_2355.JPG" width="532" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSjtOBvfEW-HkCDVNTOoM6fsNwPM8ezjdfHnagnpFwyg3F37XzdewpJm5Hgdco7KTIi76gwZAsXqwsvxjN7XACLgWxFu47SOCi-7cRfxxo1uElmize36PxlbAnIU0KAoZKH9kjWUKnfc/s1600/IMG_2358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1049" data-original-width="1076" height="622" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSjtOBvfEW-HkCDVNTOoM6fsNwPM8ezjdfHnagnpFwyg3F37XzdewpJm5Hgdco7KTIi76gwZAsXqwsvxjN7XACLgWxFu47SOCi-7cRfxxo1uElmize36PxlbAnIU0KAoZKH9kjWUKnfc/s640/IMG_2358.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkr0iE-YQbJINpr6LYAYtMVQ152Tertxz94SK_CCG4KNLh5Z6te8VPLuyExe1s5gvbBgyM_DIBd6eRz4Yudwml5IhiIiyimb-Kzh8Vlb2cKUxQzKhZboSaU2uo3-z1Zbuuilhvet8yjzQ/s1600/IMG_2361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkr0iE-YQbJINpr6LYAYtMVQ152Tertxz94SK_CCG4KNLh5Z6te8VPLuyExe1s5gvbBgyM_DIBd6eRz4Yudwml5IhiIiyimb-Kzh8Vlb2cKUxQzKhZboSaU2uo3-z1Zbuuilhvet8yjzQ/s640/IMG_2361.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifDBWm2bJ0gf-M8FvSM3k75yZXv3cWfjEYszQm-OIuMmKvjBEA9ZOIb0hQVX1hs8Odwnx9O7IZtQPtctHWpCghcCn0WLSNKQ119CWVjWXL3tqZEXFYtSKtYNsgOVhQW1P9aDmsXokqdBI/s1600/IMG_2370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="986" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifDBWm2bJ0gf-M8FvSM3k75yZXv3cWfjEYszQm-OIuMmKvjBEA9ZOIb0hQVX1hs8Odwnx9O7IZtQPtctHWpCghcCn0WLSNKQ119CWVjWXL3tqZEXFYtSKtYNsgOVhQW1P9aDmsXokqdBI/s640/IMG_2370.JPG" width="524" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKjd5Pl0PFl1bOMRNjQMWls2yEvWuEzDwgwhubqdlQFLJSgBicmnn8MvVZBqWgqdafcoV28qCFuA-W-IxrXnMgK5BEWEYMTEJg91lRV5_qCRbFx-xeEY4V15SbwVgWhzh5LIAiGPETjyg/s1600/IMG_2383.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1046" data-original-width="984" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKjd5Pl0PFl1bOMRNjQMWls2yEvWuEzDwgwhubqdlQFLJSgBicmnn8MvVZBqWgqdafcoV28qCFuA-W-IxrXnMgK5BEWEYMTEJg91lRV5_qCRbFx-xeEY4V15SbwVgWhzh5LIAiGPETjyg/s640/IMG_2383.JPG" width="602" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgconJovvS8cyDwJOUAMunwMVtRntk1IXYLcxn9Ftzlj9xx9eyhSdRn7xPlE20EXNmqHXMoyLVfU5erbH79llfCw0OamqHuj0cp1FTMX-7U2jfEaVq24-qzCEi4RKxGdH0CBU2naeHhWxU/s1600/IMG_2388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgconJovvS8cyDwJOUAMunwMVtRntk1IXYLcxn9Ftzlj9xx9eyhSdRn7xPlE20EXNmqHXMoyLVfU5erbH79llfCw0OamqHuj0cp1FTMX-7U2jfEaVq24-qzCEi4RKxGdH0CBU2naeHhWxU/s640/IMG_2388.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgRzKkHQY7jrhzh-ZLBkNT_T87YCvhkIu8W6_cxPivX0gKYsYPfsnB0fWS026WxwDkeHHiwIx0OgBkzxp1stMxcji2iPsrdDxYRcgyrmwpRd0X9RYhOf3ExcX13tLioWxlLlPTA_Zt5Pk/s1600/IMG_2392.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="784" data-original-width="1124" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgRzKkHQY7jrhzh-ZLBkNT_T87YCvhkIu8W6_cxPivX0gKYsYPfsnB0fWS026WxwDkeHHiwIx0OgBkzxp1stMxcji2iPsrdDxYRcgyrmwpRd0X9RYhOf3ExcX13tLioWxlLlPTA_Zt5Pk/s640/IMG_2392.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGkoejk2gEqmgbLNmz-w5rVNPFTe73efLSywvDw1Qw2xNZ124EzBGvRQE1EtwXV0J9oQrw54D0un_9sCYfcAGCc8Ib2Oh-WKc8wLqN8OuMeTdzuJx6FZDyUniZ0qNutul4aJs-MeimN7k/s1600/IMG_2395.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="891" data-original-width="823" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGkoejk2gEqmgbLNmz-w5rVNPFTe73efLSywvDw1Qw2xNZ124EzBGvRQE1EtwXV0J9oQrw54D0un_9sCYfcAGCc8Ib2Oh-WKc8wLqN8OuMeTdzuJx6FZDyUniZ0qNutul4aJs-MeimN7k/s640/IMG_2395.JPG" width="590" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgluVAYmUXLdvQJUDkq81yaxBble9E2xh1IpcBSd3sxZfGiIMt9Z2UTvTz2cevHuSzxx8hyphenhyphen_900wr7UN1Akw1oF3UWz5TOyQVoq4CooAW5qgD6oUGOzCZNVb_G2HRnYPgWdNyVZ_f5VhF0/s1600/IMG_2402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgluVAYmUXLdvQJUDkq81yaxBble9E2xh1IpcBSd3sxZfGiIMt9Z2UTvTz2cevHuSzxx8hyphenhyphen_900wr7UN1Akw1oF3UWz5TOyQVoq4CooAW5qgD6oUGOzCZNVb_G2HRnYPgWdNyVZ_f5VhF0/s640/IMG_2402.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-44359650337738268032018-09-09T17:33:00.000-07:002018-09-09T17:33:00.145-07:00The Milkweed MansionMilkweed is coveted by those who love Monarch butterflies, because it is the only food the caterpillars, who eventually grow those lovely orange and black wings, can eat. No milkweed means no monarchs.<br />
<br />
Milkweeds leak bitter white sap and most mammals avoid them, but I was surprised, when I started paying attention, to find many other insects making use of the plant.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGhz0jCpNoquTYTQir7w7wuN7kMl1TMEhk9dqA_yJWHzDJnvechtpv6K0nWCBNmlx2ET3OVNwmkaKj1NlJfYITGq4uvHc5vw-zRYW0VmRkkiR_DhJlELT4ATAdaCuT8aj_jeywUj2Mq5I/s1600/ant2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="883" data-original-width="1600" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGhz0jCpNoquTYTQir7w7wuN7kMl1TMEhk9dqA_yJWHzDJnvechtpv6K0nWCBNmlx2ET3OVNwmkaKj1NlJfYITGq4uvHc5vw-zRYW0VmRkkiR_DhJlELT4ATAdaCuT8aj_jeywUj2Mq5I/s640/ant2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkC67XsesX4vMd6rNxgpvP_Y1pfuP40ZFiMFO4DguQ66oWl36FC3EPbjNQUnE8pdfsmcg2n7eE1aB_if5J9J3acP5xpq1G8lD39QcyFDJUzMGY7cwJ5IpULMIfMVhJThGAROnxNCVOjWM/s1600/cucumber+beetle2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1011" data-original-width="1600" height="404" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkC67XsesX4vMd6rNxgpvP_Y1pfuP40ZFiMFO4DguQ66oWl36FC3EPbjNQUnE8pdfsmcg2n7eE1aB_if5J9J3acP5xpq1G8lD39QcyFDJUzMGY7cwJ5IpULMIfMVhJThGAROnxNCVOjWM/s640/cucumber+beetle2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBUDlehkUnJwlOCpFeqtNSVzw94Q_OKHCVYvn-awIkF1kLWAUXBpHV9qkuscOm3zy6Eci3JZIB-galHx7WUbjlzTJTyxYUtdDKgxl3O_KptruF5YI1zVo_IkURHO5v7NyLUIH5kLBUeA/s1600/fly2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1519" data-original-width="1600" height="606" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBUDlehkUnJwlOCpFeqtNSVzw94Q_OKHCVYvn-awIkF1kLWAUXBpHV9qkuscOm3zy6Eci3JZIB-galHx7WUbjlzTJTyxYUtdDKgxl3O_KptruF5YI1zVo_IkURHO5v7NyLUIH5kLBUeA/s640/fly2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbenokAuM99OaxY8VsKZZPWxmDUnSaYHtkXkD9PJHx7OyZCtebSCUg1abkzlhtHe6DlIFQoYHM-JMDnwiW5rQytjvNuWzgRb2qT9Ouk6wPkwQSWHi7f5wtHkUfE6sVCZYswUsSzRjM4jY/s1600/leaf+hopper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1354" data-original-width="1600" height="540" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbenokAuM99OaxY8VsKZZPWxmDUnSaYHtkXkD9PJHx7OyZCtebSCUg1abkzlhtHe6DlIFQoYHM-JMDnwiW5rQytjvNuWzgRb2qT9Ouk6wPkwQSWHi7f5wtHkUfE6sVCZYswUsSzRjM4jY/s640/leaf+hopper.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUBAOr2hsVWR4M3WQWSPHk69heEwvyC9UB0RtdBPbdcXS0up2ZS2bFdrwqRrb2sMMkRmXaqSsAIFBIyh7Hue9GmUpyUrp5ksHf822eKjuLio435gKQ44Obl5qC7cWc_-Z7wZpx6wRB91I/s1600/milkweed+beetle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1215" data-original-width="1600" height="486" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUBAOr2hsVWR4M3WQWSPHk69heEwvyC9UB0RtdBPbdcXS0up2ZS2bFdrwqRrb2sMMkRmXaqSsAIFBIyh7Hue9GmUpyUrp5ksHf822eKjuLio435gKQ44Obl5qC7cWc_-Z7wZpx6wRB91I/s640/milkweed+beetle.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGDgg5tYyCa9HJCG7EYdCRete_bKQWioLqTjuIGPfbGG5hqq3Z7IXH3m3B7kI4ZRyQy_if01S-iQ3C1383DLRjmTY_jAOgFIz-u137MPFmDBin3jEaXilpqMuIVmXa349psyvQLpTF5mc/s1600/moth2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGDgg5tYyCa9HJCG7EYdCRete_bKQWioLqTjuIGPfbGG5hqq3Z7IXH3m3B7kI4ZRyQy_if01S-iQ3C1383DLRjmTY_jAOgFIz-u137MPFmDBin3jEaXilpqMuIVmXa349psyvQLpTF5mc/s640/moth2.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5xkTZn4MQhKJktmWry-00qFJG_PF-hgvvygJwBVBjN_9WScj879u_lhvm-2OkZvX5Am5A2Kf1lSkBuZP1PVeNP088ftQC8uvLtRCseCsFWxzrlcwmRmqq31zbCMLAPSYdSuOFwkg1wco/s1600/slug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5xkTZn4MQhKJktmWry-00qFJG_PF-hgvvygJwBVBjN_9WScj879u_lhvm-2OkZvX5Am5A2Kf1lSkBuZP1PVeNP088ftQC8uvLtRCseCsFWxzrlcwmRmqq31zbCMLAPSYdSuOFwkg1wco/s640/slug.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4m6laerQrhCWZYCMqYluupeKeT28gsRa4l8PkRRdSDoNXDuTb2vqjk185tmySn0CaFWr1wijNu-Xata7XgYbpcdAKbute8jjAYOZlEYXQPLB_NOsoPjlmjjeU8YEreIDs_PhWZQg2hlQ/s1600/snail+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1507" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4m6laerQrhCWZYCMqYluupeKeT28gsRa4l8PkRRdSDoNXDuTb2vqjk185tmySn0CaFWr1wijNu-Xata7XgYbpcdAKbute8jjAYOZlEYXQPLB_NOsoPjlmjjeU8YEreIDs_PhWZQg2hlQ/s640/snail+%25283%2529.jpg" width="602" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
And of course <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh32faGZLgYkqVHShDOw-pXgnyhNOqZdLVqSySGazr_288OA1WZimddAbxujmcHtxieZs_rktcYwdvSvNqFgdihjEB75wjoCjgheN_3W8tfYxXx_fPLtMhUUovaVAh96qeIHXL47UgzZto/s1600/monarch+caterpillar2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh32faGZLgYkqVHShDOw-pXgnyhNOqZdLVqSySGazr_288OA1WZimddAbxujmcHtxieZs_rktcYwdvSvNqFgdihjEB75wjoCjgheN_3W8tfYxXx_fPLtMhUUovaVAh96qeIHXL47UgzZto/s640/monarch+caterpillar2.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
Monarch caterpillars....<br />
<br />
<br />Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-7532919041674458962018-06-25T18:26:00.001-07:002018-06-25T18:31:47.906-07:00Beneath the RocksThe water of the Bullpasture River, which starts just three miles above my house, flows all the way to the James and then out to the Chesapeake Bay. When the weather gets really hot, I like to go sit in a quiet pool and cool off.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKU4yoTevHpQjJo8afN_GYCbPbRwgkcYn4Xi0g7XFIlrHE3Fj0GF5uQX2EM8Q2ee_RR3F8hznQmv-Dih7zsUVipiRu0MB8zWVGuULChHrwzneA1F6HCTdTzMuHu5A6YNJso5pKSqMdDP8/s1600/river+beach+south.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKU4yoTevHpQjJo8afN_GYCbPbRwgkcYn4Xi0g7XFIlrHE3Fj0GF5uQX2EM8Q2ee_RR3F8hznQmv-Dih7zsUVipiRu0MB8zWVGuULChHrwzneA1F6HCTdTzMuHu5A6YNJso5pKSqMdDP8/s640/river+beach+south.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Snails cover many of the rocks. This little guy is a pocket snail. Pocket snails only like clean water, so I'm always happy to find them. His operculum is on the right, so I know when I find him everything in the water is right.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtgdkvOT5C1TWVSk3yiPGRqFqOjhGTXjtfzIoMtjN3d2RoeZ1ekQPMNJojz-GwHdZmWYuU3NeUmvFxDssJLtVjzsNnkbVF1WSH3j1eitHgMzZGifvsV7doxtntAikPIAv5qi-qty6D_w/s1600/river+critters10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtgdkvOT5C1TWVSk3yiPGRqFqOjhGTXjtfzIoMtjN3d2RoeZ1ekQPMNJojz-GwHdZmWYuU3NeUmvFxDssJLtVjzsNnkbVF1WSH3j1eitHgMzZGifvsV7doxtntAikPIAv5qi-qty6D_w/s640/river+critters10.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
While the snails hang out on top of rocks, lots of other critters live underneath. They are invisible to the casual visitor, but I know a secret. I pick up the rocks and I'm always surprised by what I find. First I spot a water penny beetle. They also only like pure water, so I'm happy to find this one crawling on the rocks. He's the round bunp near the bottom center.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_Qbzov5UYwu5bAijPok8Q_7uI1DrYLhHbLvvGWBje_gb-7WtpEDLODmu9u_Bwjfn_WO2EJsVnKUpV54lIvmPHV6_w-4vxY98yIGLPnyXx1w78zkHXpNr6rfc2MHVCukcLVJVp4yQU2E/s1600/river+critters7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_Qbzov5UYwu5bAijPok8Q_7uI1DrYLhHbLvvGWBje_gb-7WtpEDLODmu9u_Bwjfn_WO2EJsVnKUpV54lIvmPHV6_w-4vxY98yIGLPnyXx1w78zkHXpNr6rfc2MHVCukcLVJVp4yQU2E/s640/river+critters7.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I transfer him to my hand and his little feet tickle my finger as he glides gracefully around and around .<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUoudf1LVnaX6VR6bIFMhd1VkTh2wSrFd_L4sXKkcUdNY3xDxK-xZrQG7Kh9nFV6oPSxiqx0SITvqvOrke7aY__qY5EyKc0ZyHTWOmLkLDqjqhFeFgNMjY-uXcdWoGHWQiL1wCN8Mox5o/s1600/river+critters8.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUoudf1LVnaX6VR6bIFMhd1VkTh2wSrFd_L4sXKkcUdNY3xDxK-xZrQG7Kh9nFV6oPSxiqx0SITvqvOrke7aY__qY5EyKc0ZyHTWOmLkLDqjqhFeFgNMjY-uXcdWoGHWQiL1wCN8Mox5o/s640/river+critters8.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Under the next rock, I find mayfly nymphs. They are still pretty small, but they are easy to spot because the minute I lift a rock, they hurry to the bottom side. Note the filmy gills near the back end of this one's abdomen and the three identifying tubes extending from his back end. May flies are also known as fish flies because when they metamorphose, fish love to eat them. Mayfly nymphs are also a sign of healthy water.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8pBvfQOBkl1p9qz63sziEUSyl0VzjP9h9Aa82xEthVol9fTtY67ASaB6wRjlwkg8zS_ttnDOYbOX63f-bnMModHw7r5Jvrc3lwLVAf4yhDvEERKViXqk9xq5tVAHcRDRyWccG488_yLs/s1600/river+critters12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8pBvfQOBkl1p9qz63sziEUSyl0VzjP9h9Aa82xEthVol9fTtY67ASaB6wRjlwkg8zS_ttnDOYbOX63f-bnMModHw7r5Jvrc3lwLVAf4yhDvEERKViXqk9xq5tVAHcRDRyWccG488_yLs/s640/river+critters12.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
My favorite thing to find is caddis fly larvae hiding out in their home-made cases. The larvae spin silk thread and use it to glue small stones or bits of detritus together into cigarette-shaped protective cases. If you look closely, you can see all the small pebbles that make up the shelter. The worm-like larvae is inside.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtAo0rGO0Pz5asfo93qwg93fFhEm2FOBOAUP_1rQUxSufOIfaAOpKeUZQf3GyhOIjSXOMDqy3FLKyT4MNHBjSmvDtCUc4PJ8N124mYs3IMo4KsVtzAc30-6BTheTrLElS7ulQV3ZLcgTU/s1600/river+critters11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtAo0rGO0Pz5asfo93qwg93fFhEm2FOBOAUP_1rQUxSufOIfaAOpKeUZQf3GyhOIjSXOMDqy3FLKyT4MNHBjSmvDtCUc4PJ8N124mYs3IMo4KsVtzAc30-6BTheTrLElS7ulQV3ZLcgTU/s640/river+critters11.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Not all caddis flies are as talented. Here are a some of the other stone cases I found as I lifted rocks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz66OXl9F0L0bWAOzQQ60pf83OFL9QE8V3Hk2s_WLdplw7nN3i1xDzTW93l715xvBx2k94euf46I5cgI5Lq31RiNWDDRuIxT6UgSQmOw3hmU90h2ZTeyjUxK250lyhkY2_w5s38AqkszY/s1600/river+critters13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz66OXl9F0L0bWAOzQQ60pf83OFL9QE8V3Hk2s_WLdplw7nN3i1xDzTW93l715xvBx2k94euf46I5cgI5Lq31RiNWDDRuIxT6UgSQmOw3hmU90h2ZTeyjUxK250lyhkY2_w5s38AqkszY/s640/river+critters13.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBW50jNO4n8GHDuNGmpNj6Venn8hEM7eNYxImwmti8HMCYYJo2QOrRR_5qGW1rEluwtBPLSUJAGrfMaejU3Gb66WzDwSYR0er_SjLZBUH8oi-RWt0MedJK9FnR2e8GGsa-fnZRWhiRJ6s/s1600/river+critters14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBW50jNO4n8GHDuNGmpNj6Venn8hEM7eNYxImwmti8HMCYYJo2QOrRR_5qGW1rEluwtBPLSUJAGrfMaejU3Gb66WzDwSYR0er_SjLZBUH8oi-RWt0MedJK9FnR2e8GGsa-fnZRWhiRJ6s/s640/river+critters14.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKhuKQTi9DfM5vRPi-Qkp2oCvSOY4_SgB8aYBIjowFKFjPSY6p3frTOn3Ke77F7C_2CVcFhkZAsFCiNM1Sh0cu-jh1jPnafmDLXK73QiYbb8UFQTJ76e6HTRIfxZ6h3JzKAdeSRxzHtoI/s1600/river+critters9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKhuKQTi9DfM5vRPi-Qkp2oCvSOY4_SgB8aYBIjowFKFjPSY6p3frTOn3Ke77F7C_2CVcFhkZAsFCiNM1Sh0cu-jh1jPnafmDLXK73QiYbb8UFQTJ76e6HTRIfxZ6h3JzKAdeSRxzHtoI/s640/river+critters9.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHRuX5Qh9CQ6E5Am6vHmleoCDhrYF7dQWNxXezUog_dj0lqqtw3WCeUPHIyiWuXjcxSQMFxERruNqgOmgYO1gUCdXKYEW_KmRpTT0Wstahd9Sf_Ja3MSBYV_BtzgycRVzIzKgtoH4fKsU/s1600/river+critters6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHRuX5Qh9CQ6E5Am6vHmleoCDhrYF7dQWNxXezUog_dj0lqqtw3WCeUPHIyiWuXjcxSQMFxERruNqgOmgYO1gUCdXKYEW_KmRpTT0Wstahd9Sf_Ja3MSBYV_BtzgycRVzIzKgtoH4fKsU/s640/river+critters6.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
My favorite cases are more artistic. This caddisfly must have been dreaming about flying.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioeDd_4TLICxcGRenFf8dsNqmne5fqhgtPv9bU7MFXSWVYAx9xJj3ptpdEkAduwjtB5oeEBWyTqP0UBO5q912s4FcuymJk_h2E_fLYRoJKt-l4rh3Lfd22G_WwJKuZtnsx7n5N4x7kBaA/s1600/river+critters2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioeDd_4TLICxcGRenFf8dsNqmne5fqhgtPv9bU7MFXSWVYAx9xJj3ptpdEkAduwjtB5oeEBWyTqP0UBO5q912s4FcuymJk_h2E_fLYRoJKt-l4rh3Lfd22G_WwJKuZtnsx7n5N4x7kBaA/s640/river+critters2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I find one last case before calling it a day. It's actually a pair of cases, which is pretty unusual and they are made of rolled up bark.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcZNhCT7WKXZ2P7_wAmZLmUXpqbSV36THh-xzCs74Zlv9R_FwmX2dJigf48yXFCvF2glHUf0nRf2mTQmg2D2yDC-70J-CaIR8JbIXmZS_8idds6J_CtlF8-v66lg_hoH-IPJd97C6bN8/s1600/river+critters5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghcZNhCT7WKXZ2P7_wAmZLmUXpqbSV36THh-xzCs74Zlv9R_FwmX2dJigf48yXFCvF2glHUf0nRf2mTQmg2D2yDC-70J-CaIR8JbIXmZS_8idds6J_CtlF8-v66lg_hoH-IPJd97C6bN8/s640/river+critters5.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Next time you go down to the river to cool off, pick up some rocks. There are plenty to choose from. Let me know what you find.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3EQlTl-SurpTeb1ZhFVXBW8223pThmQUK_mwRk6JaeoeFA9f_5zcQDanx03nPzSb10gsLiib7u7Kt0OnUx_tbveWdAYqkd4MHZWZK0DUikqIkT-k_3xt9RELpf_gzn9LfkotvqhbwNas/s1600/river+critters17.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3EQlTl-SurpTeb1ZhFVXBW8223pThmQUK_mwRk6JaeoeFA9f_5zcQDanx03nPzSb10gsLiib7u7Kt0OnUx_tbveWdAYqkd4MHZWZK0DUikqIkT-k_3xt9RELpf_gzn9LfkotvqhbwNas/s640/river+critters17.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-72173506716413357062018-04-09T11:04:00.003-07:002018-04-09T11:04:57.330-07:00The Dogs of EasterOn Easter Sunday, after church, my sister, my dad and I went to the Easter on Parade event on Monument Avenue in Richmond.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9wee-eCi1fnaGTLRZ1WWLX5ZadTgxTNDVsHIYJxBgAo6ZYGVPXnTayZnVe3hEgD7stlpsexaOBf22VKKYkVi2PqY33YRxJ4t21dzMdm5Q-gZOwobm48zv14cMMFg5e4TUBppvm5Ek784/s1600/29594820_1733841093321196_2408026642320273566_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9wee-eCi1fnaGTLRZ1WWLX5ZadTgxTNDVsHIYJxBgAo6ZYGVPXnTayZnVe3hEgD7stlpsexaOBf22VKKYkVi2PqY33YRxJ4t21dzMdm5Q-gZOwobm48zv14cMMFg5e4TUBppvm5Ek784/s640/29594820_1733841093321196_2408026642320273566_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
While some went to great lengths to stand out<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifduBGPsh1ZeXOBeXDF6-jOwzcLMGKnLpfkI_PpaSwN531bjveGtRHORAxvvsCp1t4AvGpUmOc8XgIE8M_HJE_EB0WZPo4CWZg8Z50t77net55Bw38INF1hbWOB-16XBaJyv4aKI2Osj4/s1600/IMG_1636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifduBGPsh1ZeXOBeXDF6-jOwzcLMGKnLpfkI_PpaSwN531bjveGtRHORAxvvsCp1t4AvGpUmOc8XgIE8M_HJE_EB0WZPo4CWZg8Z50t77net55Bw38INF1hbWOB-16XBaJyv4aKI2Osj4/s640/IMG_1636.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYC3V6TKezDilDKxg4OS-uVHDQiTrWJRB2FBoLil9TJO60NfZVPiU9C9vurIbfFIgc-XyKe5pTLYvaGDlP9PZuSk4wwd2trN9XpJabT_tuX96ITvqtrlRhKETnUlZTdw_WPhoYEHb0Pg/s1600/IMG_1658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1543" data-original-width="864" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYC3V6TKezDilDKxg4OS-uVHDQiTrWJRB2FBoLil9TJO60NfZVPiU9C9vurIbfFIgc-XyKe5pTLYvaGDlP9PZuSk4wwd2trN9XpJabT_tuX96ITvqtrlRhKETnUlZTdw_WPhoYEHb0Pg/s640/IMG_1658.JPG" width="358" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
The dogs stole the show.<br />
<br />
From the simple<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2n2mc4LFhpg_4Iam4e1BTwFj_rSvbNkaKNMt_72Q3l3cVUNyxZygwIgvNQePtR2a9LIaZNluTvavMg99IqQ1HO6pPzt3vS4AqD22hAFJE2tx8kFoEfC5L-yE8RBjfELe0uaQa1qy9nWY/s1600/IMG_1650.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2n2mc4LFhpg_4Iam4e1BTwFj_rSvbNkaKNMt_72Q3l3cVUNyxZygwIgvNQePtR2a9LIaZNluTvavMg99IqQ1HO6pPzt3vS4AqD22hAFJE2tx8kFoEfC5L-yE8RBjfELe0uaQa1qy9nWY/s640/IMG_1650.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2hFW9fduWH0OEM7DW8-4LQgBo5aACgQ5V0P4ANQLDs6NAgKR1ygOUZj9PauU5OuCfeMcx_6v9uVK4PqdLTwn1875ptN6y333GHqbooCqSiE3CA6k8PPJ0xFiKY0CKUC1JpK2sF4lLg3k/s1600/IMG_1638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1243" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2hFW9fduWH0OEM7DW8-4LQgBo5aACgQ5V0P4ANQLDs6NAgKR1ygOUZj9PauU5OuCfeMcx_6v9uVK4PqdLTwn1875ptN6y333GHqbooCqSiE3CA6k8PPJ0xFiKY0CKUC1JpK2sF4lLg3k/s640/IMG_1638.JPG" width="496" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8J2DNlUKWD67Ip1rTXApWH52-kRF6usegtHYHHDfwSjE9xQv_eYMtRZ0eP1VEjLNB1OJDfCJ4u5PEAT8-Hundr55fBgRp1gXcB9imOAwTcITeXBYID9bZt_6fsdtKebdqoZnjqNd5JFw/s1600/IMG_1653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1593" data-original-width="1259" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8J2DNlUKWD67Ip1rTXApWH52-kRF6usegtHYHHDfwSjE9xQv_eYMtRZ0eP1VEjLNB1OJDfCJ4u5PEAT8-Hundr55fBgRp1gXcB9imOAwTcITeXBYID9bZt_6fsdtKebdqoZnjqNd5JFw/s640/IMG_1653.JPG" width="504" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
To the colorful<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc6Wat-N49XuQ5OXzBWOEkSEjOQAQh3zoWC1HpXIa_WurDCX2gXnA9azieYX1OC0WHPeNr1899LU8bLOQPZh4-BJ2XArpkdrC_XE9qQ_4zyhb5nq80zdeRxc9P6OlZrEOJD_Vb9TRPjXk/s1600/IMG_1666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc6Wat-N49XuQ5OXzBWOEkSEjOQAQh3zoWC1HpXIa_WurDCX2gXnA9azieYX1OC0WHPeNr1899LU8bLOQPZh4-BJ2XArpkdrC_XE9qQ_4zyhb5nq80zdeRxc9P6OlZrEOJD_Vb9TRPjXk/s640/IMG_1666.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhha8S1FJ4vVZy-wYHDI_Yh1gYAQOzAwdWaTUkLoYgsSO33l4-J6bGAnh6yBc-luc4d8pD589g8oClYopkL3i_Zpi26kZf62xDnG8jNzrJ37v84XoTQMnAs0syPeQuTH1UGxoDkIQeKuOk/s1600/IMG_1668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhha8S1FJ4vVZy-wYHDI_Yh1gYAQOzAwdWaTUkLoYgsSO33l4-J6bGAnh6yBc-luc4d8pD589g8oClYopkL3i_Zpi26kZf62xDnG8jNzrJ37v84XoTQMnAs0syPeQuTH1UGxoDkIQeKuOk/s640/IMG_1668.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
To the simply preposterous<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDX4lYbENBHSd3Jl-USTwTRQ3ikJXpp0_plJgiWeKHEO_Sgw707z6RpqL1PvXQ2RRq_CPsITqGf82fZd3HLcWoe-WLl8n7gH8igOQO1tyKFk040SRPo1kA4G7hDetUM3hkmJWYJnmurCs/s1600/IMG_1647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDX4lYbENBHSd3Jl-USTwTRQ3ikJXpp0_plJgiWeKHEO_Sgw707z6RpqL1PvXQ2RRq_CPsITqGf82fZd3HLcWoe-WLl8n7gH8igOQO1tyKFk040SRPo1kA4G7hDetUM3hkmJWYJnmurCs/s640/IMG_1647.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGP2yF_lI_pg4qVeeiwOc7sh0s4J0P8Mi_woj5FHD5GYhgIXqKfSHv6szRyhwXgtQZid52vE8WCIaYxm0x6E6WqLBWBhAz1BDAwidNVzURUjkB0baCjItds8ly6E0jTGrC4pxVBgVcDaA/s1600/IMG_1648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGP2yF_lI_pg4qVeeiwOc7sh0s4J0P8Mi_woj5FHD5GYhgIXqKfSHv6szRyhwXgtQZid52vE8WCIaYxm0x6E6WqLBWBhAz1BDAwidNVzURUjkB0baCjItds8ly6E0jTGrC4pxVBgVcDaA/s640/IMG_1648.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKnkz8IdnheOo3GNLG-dlOhbx8bAi3R5iLGXzI9w1QTBUt93NWZSFcmzY-kdNfMIamy8Cu00rnxn2J_0flGyg_psq92RjkewBrZRnhycqbqDGkBIQdQz6px0mJa5pjk2HFi-74iH465G8/s1600/IMG_1671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1118" data-original-width="1600" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKnkz8IdnheOo3GNLG-dlOhbx8bAi3R5iLGXzI9w1QTBUt93NWZSFcmzY-kdNfMIamy8Cu00rnxn2J_0flGyg_psq92RjkewBrZRnhycqbqDGkBIQdQz6px0mJa5pjk2HFi-74iH465G8/s640/IMG_1671.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
To the charming<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGjT8TEa1I3iDDdVYyD7Hj7PIbq3_KKRvH9vRM2kDIVB0FiMFyOeUEcl6DQM_mizSGIGYbByhW91VzaqcoXc1P7wdIelC4kXQDHB60gkUMHi7NFws8nheZGFeIpqRtxf0ed79_pabbYNI/s1600/IMG_1644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGjT8TEa1I3iDDdVYyD7Hj7PIbq3_KKRvH9vRM2kDIVB0FiMFyOeUEcl6DQM_mizSGIGYbByhW91VzaqcoXc1P7wdIelC4kXQDHB60gkUMHi7NFws8nheZGFeIpqRtxf0ed79_pabbYNI/s640/IMG_1644.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhR3MfVGSZPQ0qgdrPJhLWvFc1P5Rzo47pjRWv7SJFQpYftvC1K4YgcpH52S6Waty9hCgqM5b1WYVGSjRun5dRR2TmEdvQimRCvExDjZQ8NhXFyTOqHTEo61sXXhEhWBl8vbZoevHFN8c/s1600/IMG_1672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1151" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhR3MfVGSZPQ0qgdrPJhLWvFc1P5Rzo47pjRWv7SJFQpYftvC1K4YgcpH52S6Waty9hCgqM5b1WYVGSjRun5dRR2TmEdvQimRCvExDjZQ8NhXFyTOqHTEo61sXXhEhWBl8vbZoevHFN8c/s640/IMG_1672.JPG" width="460" /></a></div>
<br />
Happy Easter everyone! WOOF WOOF!Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-85643092474133963762018-03-23T06:53:00.002-07:002018-03-23T07:17:05.841-07:00Reflections From a Tiny Snowman<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmvkoMHETEcPbCLd0TQur1iJmfFH7UrXASy3orxkAzuCaZeHGWyQkjig3JpL-i5IgmJV-w4m5ZNEPRFnvXmcKNAszfdjorVnm4Yv7LrpnCd9hdzVrTgla0aPPGxgUjSlEvU0HIYDy8_IU/s1600/IMG_1617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmvkoMHETEcPbCLd0TQur1iJmfFH7UrXASy3orxkAzuCaZeHGWyQkjig3JpL-i5IgmJV-w4m5ZNEPRFnvXmcKNAszfdjorVnm4Yv7LrpnCd9hdzVrTgla0aPPGxgUjSlEvU0HIYDy8_IU/s640/IMG_1617.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
What a beautiful day! Don't you just love a good snow? I know I do! It invigorates me, makes me feel refreshed. Of course if you are a snowman, a good snow adds so much to your life.<br />
<br />
I live on a farm. These are my chickens.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Df6XlPnFFk6C8atRDn4Oh2faALq6DkHf4kslfjbFK6FU9GsxF128HJmWaZ4gi0uFs-671bVG0tnd4rXBrxHO5MK5JTcCjP1xH77xwAOZQy6bycL0imM86hXZHCx3ikP08HOrQMGx2M0/s1600/IMG_1619.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Df6XlPnFFk6C8atRDn4Oh2faALq6DkHf4kslfjbFK6FU9GsxF128HJmWaZ4gi0uFs-671bVG0tnd4rXBrxHO5MK5JTcCjP1xH77xwAOZQy6bycL0imM86hXZHCx3ikP08HOrQMGx2M0/s640/IMG_1619.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
They don't like the snow nearly as much as I do. Ginny had to dig that bare spot out for them so they would come outside. When they are cooped up inside, their eggs get dirtier because they spend more time sitting on their nests.<br />
<br />
Ginny likes their eggs cleaner so she doesn't have to spend so much time cleaning them herself. Aren't these beautiful? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqdmlYjKWUKA3ay2Re9cYH7kQ4dC4jevg8XyTUpqJgOQwBBKHEuJ_c4gMnSF4ncm1hNdn3MNexygl6ggDW_J1YBvNAOagx1w7KH-7mFBRYgCzTp0ELZaJLldE-v6tCjX0JviVj_vkUBbE/s1600/IMG_1630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqdmlYjKWUKA3ay2Re9cYH7kQ4dC4jevg8XyTUpqJgOQwBBKHEuJ_c4gMnSF4ncm1hNdn3MNexygl6ggDW_J1YBvNAOagx1w7KH-7mFBRYgCzTp0ELZaJLldE-v6tCjX0JviVj_vkUBbE/s640/IMG_1630.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
This bucket is the same one that Ginny's mother-in-law used to gather eggs. It's been in the family for at least 15 years.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdY8ns9kjqX0VZBKqx0OWkOelSqWsG8ZD0uK1zmNcsDp4_cQR1hu9A3ySnEHlE4sVqJxIzyftqGHuFwWnKnvxQrjDzmG2N7v_jSLwQqrqVJYLtaumX9ViwvBbyQMFRCzHZbjwla_xLt0/s1600/IMG_1626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdY8ns9kjqX0VZBKqx0OWkOelSqWsG8ZD0uK1zmNcsDp4_cQR1hu9A3ySnEHlE4sVqJxIzyftqGHuFwWnKnvxQrjDzmG2N7v_jSLwQqrqVJYLtaumX9ViwvBbyQMFRCzHZbjwla_xLt0/s640/IMG_1626.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Behind me you can see Ginny's house and her barn and her horses. The horses are eating some corn that Ginny put out for them to supplement their hay. They like to stand on that side of the building because it's the warmest in the winter. See how the sun shines on it? I stay away from places like that. Warmth is not my friend.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh668RM1urs3Q23C4oUNDtfGj1whyphenhyphenRxUa1eBBgsMoweSm9ZnAyhu0GX79lGahUnfBhoBnpsEakzIPLgvgUp_s673bLmTdpSy-6mtYXSOiX50mlfnqAe5wE77B0ksPXywW91Tt20q_SyIyA/s1600/IMG_1624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh668RM1urs3Q23C4oUNDtfGj1whyphenhyphenRxUa1eBBgsMoweSm9ZnAyhu0GX79lGahUnfBhoBnpsEakzIPLgvgUp_s673bLmTdpSy-6mtYXSOiX50mlfnqAe5wE77B0ksPXywW91Tt20q_SyIyA/s640/IMG_1624.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm a little worried that I won't be around for very long. See how the creek behind me has melted?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
That's not a good sign. Still, I'm happy to be alive. A spring snow this deep is pretty unusual. And, this snow is melting from underneath since the ground is so warm. That helps the groundwater re-charge. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyVNCJR5IDMGX-H_EsIDXupPATNFPs4UYthOy8o3UNYVb13z4uidRTUwqaINgGyoTlDY2xFYlvxGXX_LnTSL7SaMOC_muIRSFmmLe9_xhrRZ2-zCZbgVVn3AB-1wPsTlzirAf4XxyjJs/s1600/IMG_1620+cropped_LI+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1453" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyVNCJR5IDMGX-H_EsIDXupPATNFPs4UYthOy8o3UNYVb13z4uidRTUwqaINgGyoTlDY2xFYlvxGXX_LnTSL7SaMOC_muIRSFmmLe9_xhrRZ2-zCZbgVVn3AB-1wPsTlzirAf4XxyjJs/s640/IMG_1620+cropped_LI+%25282%2529.jpg" width="580" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I will help the ground water re-charge, too. You might think I wouldn't like melting, but even though I don't want to melt right this minute, melting is the way that I travel the world. After I melt, I might evaporate into the sky to be a cloud, or I might run down to that creek and travel to the ocean.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLZLKbTyHkFPG-bmuBeSvHDgpyQT02Sek9zimMjOqsglGYU85EhkZST_et9nR3L1Uob2vDQtnEGBfY6zikS4n6wagkMEKH92Lzi_tXyh9x2hFmfx6qwpIwyUBYARCDIdn7f-SE6hilUko/s1600/IMG_1622.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLZLKbTyHkFPG-bmuBeSvHDgpyQT02Sek9zimMjOqsglGYU85EhkZST_et9nR3L1Uob2vDQtnEGBfY6zikS4n6wagkMEKH92Lzi_tXyh9x2hFmfx6qwpIwyUBYARCDIdn7f-SE6hilUko/s640/IMG_1622.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Look, here's one of the family dogs. His name is Rex and he's a rabbit beagle. I think he wants to play.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9dhgEsO1NWe2rYrIO1eOhyhhkSKqyPvvzJ25_G5JMNwOtn0Qeohf4RTYcUNp18_acLJRDjeVf0WbZaQ3eHI3zQHTR-J-Wwt85Aa_vpBc24_BQ-vMgxKBrli5l8AGxJyV_dgLIzfwe4es/s1600/IMG_1628.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9dhgEsO1NWe2rYrIO1eOhyhhkSKqyPvvzJ25_G5JMNwOtn0Qeohf4RTYcUNp18_acLJRDjeVf0WbZaQ3eHI3zQHTR-J-Wwt85Aa_vpBc24_BQ-vMgxKBrli5l8AGxJyV_dgLIzfwe4es/s640/IMG_1628.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Hey! Watch out! You're getting just a little too close. Back off Buster!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZUA7HaOS35VfwGLO8uIXwrs5wLDh7SMC0IvBkwpoZvLjM4j3W5u1-SBHd4mb_6LFMHjVDB-EOZIuaTOPM3nyx6NWGL7Ht_kF7E5cfw5KiiHLjE4sm_an-p9b0KUkqUp0F-KyBZyG0ax0/s1600/IMG_1623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZUA7HaOS35VfwGLO8uIXwrs5wLDh7SMC0IvBkwpoZvLjM4j3W5u1-SBHd4mb_6LFMHjVDB-EOZIuaTOPM3nyx6NWGL7Ht_kF7E5cfw5KiiHLjE4sm_an-p9b0KUkqUp0F-KyBZyG0ax0/s640/IMG_1623.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I guess I'll be starting my travels sooner than I thought. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I hope when we meet again, I'll be tall enough to look you in the eye. Some facial hair would be nice, too.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpDwT7lGZO0nBHhrCjPzO57VVI0YUyoasrxgTGAZau4_og7wTYAlkjWW3fFkfzcxGcIQe8D3O7OX7i4qSC0cbbwP1WzdjnxaL46yWWV-FhyphenhyphengnAIDieTHnuBfptbWJuWCVyg_gJBGwnWK8/s1600/DSCN0200+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="947" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpDwT7lGZO0nBHhrCjPzO57VVI0YUyoasrxgTGAZau4_og7wTYAlkjWW3fFkfzcxGcIQe8D3O7OX7i4qSC0cbbwP1WzdjnxaL46yWWV-FhyphenhyphengnAIDieTHnuBfptbWJuWCVyg_gJBGwnWK8/s640/DSCN0200+-+Copy.jpg" width="378" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Until then, look for me in the rain, in the rivers and in your tears. I could show up just about anywhere that water runs.</div>
<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-37164467619764002082018-01-05T09:14:00.001-08:002018-01-05T09:14:20.892-08:00Water Like A Stone<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Earth stood hard as
iron, water like a stone.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These are the first words of one of my Dad’s favorite hymns
and we are surely in this phase of winter weather. The bonus of this kind of weather is that all
of the eggs my hens lay are sparkly clean.
There is nothing for hens to track into the nests. Even their poop freezes almost as soon as it
hits the air.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The downside is that their eggs are freezing almost as fast
as they are laid. This necessitates a
couple of trips to the henhouse per day to gather them before they bust
open. Other things are freezing as
well. Although the henhouse is well
insulated, it’s not heated. That wouldn’t
be practical and the hens and roosters can hunker down and let their feathers
cover their feet, which are the most vulnerable part of their anatomy when it’s
cold.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What they can’t cover is their combs. When the temperatures drop below zero and
stay there, then there will be some comb damage. It doesn’t seem to hurt, but the rooster won’t
be quite the dandy he was before. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We are also watching carefully for lambs or calves. Anything born in this weather needs to be
dried off quickly by its mama so it can rise up and suck some colostrum. When those two things happen in quick order,
then newborns are usually fine as there is some protection in that first milk
that acts like anti-freeze. Our job is
to scout the fields and watch for imminent signs of birth in the mamas. This is
much easier said than done, because often the first sign is the mother heaving
and straining. We have some sheep and
cows with shortened ears who suffered frostbite as babies. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The dogs, who usually cuddle up together in one doghouse in the most severe weather, have even been allowed in on the mud porch. Luke would be happy to stay in his bed all day, but Rex is antsy, asking to go out even in the bitterest winds. Last night, he chased rabbits all night long. We could hear his howling pursuit out in our front lot. This morning he didn't seem any worse for the wear, but he did agree to take a nap.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYD-6vyTCCxrhI8Fu0k9dSDkZKaiE9sCItGArQMopBDg8byZrxel-0zR4v7XF6eCciy8KZvffwQ9qmV1yibAy8QKjOrzthdSLmCyhAHFTbAWPRhZm6XWBDYBC4i5ki0MaIkqKuO0aCfE/s1600/IMG_1600+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYD-6vyTCCxrhI8Fu0k9dSDkZKaiE9sCItGArQMopBDg8byZrxel-0zR4v7XF6eCciy8KZvffwQ9qmV1yibAy8QKjOrzthdSLmCyhAHFTbAWPRhZm6XWBDYBC4i5ki0MaIkqKuO0aCfE/s640/IMG_1600+-+Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Luke gives me puppy dog eyes when I ask him if he'd like to go out.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The worst part of such cold weather is the water. Every puddle, every stream, and every river
is frozen. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoA3M_sZiom9NPPiwEqGg5-3QbRXCuHwsgskaKEDcDkEeU8ZWG1iQ3HnshEJc4HNHuBiOLDL-snCs-E5EjawbrD7vvpe9PtuxKcdgjR_QSohu2rd7BoqhvdYak071yGYT_2mYyXCt8tIs/s1600/IMG_1601+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoA3M_sZiom9NPPiwEqGg5-3QbRXCuHwsgskaKEDcDkEeU8ZWG1iQ3HnshEJc4HNHuBiOLDL-snCs-E5EjawbrD7vvpe9PtuxKcdgjR_QSohu2rd7BoqhvdYak071yGYT_2mYyXCt8tIs/s640/IMG_1601+-+Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The merry stream behind our house is completely silent.<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8YxfPD7fM7-nWLgXEFrsDCy64aV8BgJQ44n35Ocv1ls3xS7P3Sa0TbFP52xwoYZR3iX9H72bFXdprfERn5RKEEYwLz-n9dSM8bm0y0YGnXDNPKPaxcrsDE2lZQjU5twoQRu4UMac5sQ/s1600/IMG_1610.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8YxfPD7fM7-nWLgXEFrsDCy64aV8BgJQ44n35Ocv1ls3xS7P3Sa0TbFP52xwoYZR3iX9H72bFXdprfERn5RKEEYwLz-n9dSM8bm0y0YGnXDNPKPaxcrsDE2lZQjU5twoQRu4UMac5sQ/s640/IMG_1610.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I know that the river in front of the house is flowing beneath the ice because I can hear it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />There is nothing for
livestock or wildlife to drink unless they find the places where springs first rise
up. That water is 54 degrees and won’t
freeze the first foot or two away from its inspiration. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWXUg0j1G7mfK4gxqjaWyMrYiTWrgG_x-knqIQ5HQxpjv5owASvjtLwuHrJKpEIVh1DHHbnqArLl3moEtG8ie8Biv8kIkVSYlCY_Q53h8t-shWB8BwBjI0y8d1QCofaXlPhcrspMHoXvU/s1600/IMG_1611.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWXUg0j1G7mfK4gxqjaWyMrYiTWrgG_x-knqIQ5HQxpjv5owASvjtLwuHrJKpEIVh1DHHbnqArLl3moEtG8ie8Biv8kIkVSYlCY_Q53h8t-shWB8BwBjI0y8d1QCofaXlPhcrspMHoXvU/s640/IMG_1611.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you look closely, you can see a bit of live water where a spring rises up behind our house. But it is frozen up a foot below this spot.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All the talk around our community is of
chopping ice and trying to find ways to keep water tanks from freezing solid.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpiae45QNf9OML2pM07o-sb_2OCIb04qnhOJ9keX6YXzAoUzmFa9Z_hMtIBqgnZP5EW-QJzuFtmTg6U7tqmxUWESPQit-THne0IGK7KEFGNXwON-5h_N1ibHMPm_j3kwRkD2rE1AzmQ8A/s1600/IMG_1603.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpiae45QNf9OML2pM07o-sb_2OCIb04qnhOJ9keX6YXzAoUzmFa9Z_hMtIBqgnZP5EW-QJzuFtmTg6U7tqmxUWESPQit-THne0IGK7KEFGNXwON-5h_N1ibHMPm_j3kwRkD2rE1AzmQ8A/s640/IMG_1603.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This tank was chopped open less than an hour ago and you can see that it's already re-frozen where it was opened up.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One farmer, at the basketball game last night, spoke of
having to move a whole herd of cattle into another field. When he chopped into their stream, he found
no running water. He said in his twenty
years of farming that valley, he’d never seen anything like it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another farmer has been experimenting with bottles full of
salt water, floating them in her water troughs to act as gateways to the liquid
water beneath the ice. She saw the idea
on You Tube. The video shows cattle pushing
down on the bottles which, because they are full of salt water are less dense
than the water in the trough. They float
and keep the top from freezing solid and then, when cattle push the bottles below the ice, it leaves an open hole to
drink from. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She said that so far all that’s happened is that the bottles
have frozen into the ice and are immovable.
She’s back to chipping and chopping little holes open by hand. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSc7Y86d1BUTH6zcVDgPGAZyK4WAUuuQSHQNOft8s0pdk1bVLTYBK7iwL9GZGQ_N7ILreZXcrLB7hHNj9C-mzwursXQ8Zz5U3QF-t6T4JmNf-t6K_FTwD_u6G0lOLlQxISmI_eC7XHE1c/s1600/IMG_1608.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSc7Y86d1BUTH6zcVDgPGAZyK4WAUuuQSHQNOft8s0pdk1bVLTYBK7iwL9GZGQ_N7ILreZXcrLB7hHNj9C-mzwursXQ8Zz5U3QF-t6T4JmNf-t6K_FTwD_u6G0lOLlQxISmI_eC7XHE1c/s640/IMG_1608.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Annie and Midnight are glad to find the water tank.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This freeze up is supposed to last at least two more
days. I’d like to borrow from the Danes
and cozy up my home with candles, then hunker down for the duration. My farmer husband grins when I say that, then
hands me my mittens.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh well, as the saying goes.
“There’s no such thing as bad weather.
Just bad clothing.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSRxCdmUFkGavc3_GG_2NLbBnChgSkoDAhuhyphenhyphenuPYUh6iaooP00GT0VSbNcq3JUYN6N4UlemDVk8WoDz56dHiENrx9bjxxQtQzjRWjXhcTyRS3DbJOjFOEExTJ-m_OvdDuXY0vl-vkPh0/s1600/IMG_1595+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSRxCdmUFkGavc3_GG_2NLbBnChgSkoDAhuhyphenhyphenuPYUh6iaooP00GT0VSbNcq3JUYN6N4UlemDVk8WoDz56dHiENrx9bjxxQtQzjRWjXhcTyRS3DbJOjFOEExTJ-m_OvdDuXY0vl-vkPh0/s640/IMG_1595+-+Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready or not, here I come!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-9794395058578321272017-10-22T15:13:00.000-07:002017-10-22T15:13:49.036-07:00Acorn Man I was walking in the woods the other day and came across a little cave formed by tree roots. Just inside the cave, I spotted a little table with a fluffy, moss seat
cushion and a little rock chair. There was a leaf place-mat, as well. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVv_SkExqbaYV_4oDwzgnsa0wB9K4q0uEReR18gdZDktWEDUzGt2Oh7xZKfUtaNq7fnM8fOYwcenvjtgfyb-Dw5lFt3r7_3YNQwMu2iKnUvTzP4oALvrcUSay00YzklvlE1YWejQgMK3E/s1600/dinner+for+one+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVv_SkExqbaYV_4oDwzgnsa0wB9K4q0uEReR18gdZDktWEDUzGt2Oh7xZKfUtaNq7fnM8fOYwcenvjtgfyb-Dw5lFt3r7_3YNQwMu2iKnUvTzP4oALvrcUSay00YzklvlE1YWejQgMK3E/s640/dinner+for+one+-+Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
As I looked around to see who, or what, might be living in this little cave, I heard a small voice. "I'm over here!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3D7hWEDL4NCHt_E2dHlDNYVxmc0N8mgsl6hUuKZK0NzQIJMPjvbGQsK8SDcSw9DMQd1tEibVQrkdjw2GFU4wTUmFH7g5h_kim3dGhcmDE6SqdGzNHf4bmUjx62FUmE-SbDUCrii4Mk0c/s1600/let+me+show+you+the+woods+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3D7hWEDL4NCHt_E2dHlDNYVxmc0N8mgsl6hUuKZK0NzQIJMPjvbGQsK8SDcSw9DMQd1tEibVQrkdjw2GFU4wTUmFH7g5h_kim3dGhcmDE6SqdGzNHf4bmUjx62FUmE-SbDUCrii4Mk0c/s640/let+me+show+you+the+woods+-+Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
His name was Acorn Man and he was excited to have a visitor to his forested mountain home. "I've lived here all my life," he exclaimed. "Wait here, and I'll show you."<br />
Acorn Man disappeared back into his cave. Soon I heard a voice above my head. "Here I am!" he said. <br />
When I looked up, I spotted the little fellow waving at me from a hole in the trunk above my head. "I live in this high rise apartment," he said. "The woodpeckers cut this home out for me last year." Then he disappeared again. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzWClSszuPhM8eVRdZ-JecA5z3VqWxdkrA67Sbz3LGk2hLuREiCO0YZAxhhSVfKrmIk0uevcFqsocDar0ukwmI0xDMo6E8IMgEgTjCFbiqzQ2URkX3v2gNFVCVUYjIj7UBqHURf4l5bCU/s1600/balconey+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzWClSszuPhM8eVRdZ-JecA5z3VqWxdkrA67Sbz3LGk2hLuREiCO0YZAxhhSVfKrmIk0uevcFqsocDar0ukwmI0xDMo6E8IMgEgTjCFbiqzQ2URkX3v2gNFVCVUYjIj7UBqHURf4l5bCU/s640/balconey+view.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Before long, I heard a voice on the other side of the tree. "The woodpecker cut windows all along the wall of my stairs, as well. I'll be down in a minute."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinbqsinEOc8_N9wb4ZzlAhGEdaRZ8c19dlWt8hsWfJJuHkoRb3mcMSd12x66dqf0Bi_ICDjOwij8KJmq2uJSGGqZpQdiMkHQJHWB6pj01amcaZ74PXDMkZiS_zY3D09eqXCAKWS17EgTw/s1600/high+rise+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinbqsinEOc8_N9wb4ZzlAhGEdaRZ8c19dlWt8hsWfJJuHkoRb3mcMSd12x66dqf0Bi_ICDjOwij8KJmq2uJSGGqZpQdiMkHQJHWB6pj01amcaZ74PXDMkZiS_zY3D09eqXCAKWS17EgTw/s640/high+rise+-+Copy.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
When Acorn Man was back on the ground, he took me on a tour of his forest. First we stopped at a little green tree. "The hemlock trees are being killed by an invasive insect called the wooly adelgid, so I've started a little project planting new ones," he said. "When the wooly adelgids are gone, my little trees will be ready to grow into big hemlocks."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4lwmi9TseGurQ-NyWia9HZf7NiLQiedcfTkRqohOczA_Y6jbAL2PaUiRhASyN9kvO28tcdVxOOoXBd3SDqPlAEnOHK5Wya98UcalO6Ptar3r3rq_18RwxUgyp9UW-YrutjBHloSj2tr0/s1600/hemlock+nursery+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4lwmi9TseGurQ-NyWia9HZf7NiLQiedcfTkRqohOczA_Y6jbAL2PaUiRhASyN9kvO28tcdVxOOoXBd3SDqPlAEnOHK5Wya98UcalO6Ptar3r3rq_18RwxUgyp9UW-YrutjBHloSj2tr0/s640/hemlock+nursery+-+Copy.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
After showing me his baby trees, Acorn Man asked if I had ever seen a tree heart. "They're very special," he said. "It's not often that a tree heart is visible when the tree is alive."<br />
I admitted that I had never seen one, so our next stop was the heart of an oak tree. Acorn Man told me that the tree had been hit by lightning and the resulting scar had left the heart exposed.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM3B5_1qBDPQ_0pZ6pGovryNJXdG9-LAQ9xbtucYlAX8oTzrO1Cn9cs8n7Svp367FuZ3YYO39Pm71RPQ9jjyjUW_zn5acVme9OTZ3FSL9kpHsxSNnLUqRGjNG7r-xyvwjf-PehEeSp_j4/s1600/tree+heart+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM3B5_1qBDPQ_0pZ6pGovryNJXdG9-LAQ9xbtucYlAX8oTzrO1Cn9cs8n7Svp367FuZ3YYO39Pm71RPQ9jjyjUW_zn5acVme9OTZ3FSL9kpHsxSNnLUqRGjNG7r-xyvwjf-PehEeSp_j4/s640/tree+heart+-+Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Then he took me to what he said was the most special spot in the woods.<br />
"This is the forest cathedral," he said reverently. "This is where the trees make a joyful noise." We listened for a minute. Sighs and creaks signaled that the choir was almost ready to start.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw7ZfJUv21lBh3YHmfzETUSIoDURlg5AWY7Sp3wrXvjqdQYGWefWcUj4JmyJfM55yGx_B1C3U86Cf3hW_DJFEX6S3Lm3o1Z7X6i9b8xA0Ckj-g_yBBPH94oPeG5JN4QXR2zP2EoCW1xGA/s1600/cathedral+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw7ZfJUv21lBh3YHmfzETUSIoDURlg5AWY7Sp3wrXvjqdQYGWefWcUj4JmyJfM55yGx_B1C3U86Cf3hW_DJFEX6S3Lm3o1Z7X6i9b8xA0Ckj-g_yBBPH94oPeG5JN4QXR2zP2EoCW1xGA/s640/cathedral+-+Copy.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
Then, with a big whoosh, the air was full of leaves drifting, twirling, spinning, and whirling.<br />
"The forest sings with color," he exclaimed. "Isn't it beautiful?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8KI9G9Q_B0AHmlUbvE3iB4G9nBEox8ga-zeS75D7uc3PddzdyCO8KOa2vlrQn7FE-_74o3Siu_OV1Mjm7wKYiaxsmkPhNuPjn7bXFBegoj4Aft2zQwuqfttjsAodPMeAJVb4LQUYdNCc/s1600/trees+singing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8KI9G9Q_B0AHmlUbvE3iB4G9nBEox8ga-zeS75D7uc3PddzdyCO8KOa2vlrQn7FE-_74o3Siu_OV1Mjm7wKYiaxsmkPhNuPjn7bXFBegoj4Aft2zQwuqfttjsAodPMeAJVb4LQUYdNCc/s640/trees+singing.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
When the song was over, Acorn Man led me to his lookout tower. "I come here to watch out for intruders," he said. Then, he climbed up and pointed. "There goes one, now. But, he's okay. Sometimes, he comes here to sit and listen to turkeys." <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4_86B2RdfKRqCTxkTQu_lADLVBayZ0PKYA8V4RXs1KMtbwNZjNyinc6Ny8lDkCqEWAYjtB4kP2_D2xSMRwN47VydyMhVBmowdb4aX4PY_QtLzc6N_Qf-PI_r0L8urZLaFccVZ-G4odzo/s1600/lookout+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4_86B2RdfKRqCTxkTQu_lADLVBayZ0PKYA8V4RXs1KMtbwNZjNyinc6Ny8lDkCqEWAYjtB4kP2_D2xSMRwN47VydyMhVBmowdb4aX4PY_QtLzc6N_Qf-PI_r0L8urZLaFccVZ-G4odzo/s640/lookout+-+Copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
The intruder left, so Acorn Man climbed down from his watch tower. "I'm tired," he said. "Let's take a nap." We walked through the forest looking for a soft place to dream. I found a place to pillow my head.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLzoF64fQE6H2VOUh3pBUUtGejWHrETDJHL0eL-Ngd3y2dS55_37LpZ3IYABGYSCyEq9_DZC0oEelPUrAq-YvNlwrmFPEDluZqJbFrYPkDguZEcd6U5JN3tUIQtjzIBzH64x4m_ctRao/s1600/a+place+to+sleep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLzoF64fQE6H2VOUh3pBUUtGejWHrETDJHL0eL-Ngd3y2dS55_37LpZ3IYABGYSCyEq9_DZC0oEelPUrAq-YvNlwrmFPEDluZqJbFrYPkDguZEcd6U5JN3tUIQtjzIBzH64x4m_ctRao/s640/a+place+to+sleep.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Acorn Man joined me. As we slept, the trees sang their colorful songs over our heads.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicKVbxg_o7Y7Pn_3hi6F8NoofomAfaPPlqZp2JJYXrdWPBJsqp0OUx0n0MxfbKSzV3rRkqmrt2BpGRRrmqOGtuBGia3slr06oD2jYmZJtrbZr70qzWvOaAR_3hsh7jwTxiEpBAnn-SES8/s1600/IMG_1428.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicKVbxg_o7Y7Pn_3hi6F8NoofomAfaPPlqZp2JJYXrdWPBJsqp0OUx0n0MxfbKSzV3rRkqmrt2BpGRRrmqOGtuBGia3slr06oD2jYmZJtrbZr70qzWvOaAR_3hsh7jwTxiEpBAnn-SES8/s640/IMG_1428.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Soon, the chilly air woke me. It was time to go home. As I turned to leave, Acorn Man climbed into the fork of a tree. "Listen," he said.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6d7LgQHfH4GTyYGMKG_GJI1y2dxyVsAbtcG4_iO3q7Vldz28iYIVv_R14-AIoQAVSNS5F2-OM_z8fEPB6itPFHaHCaIXwUKrS_SuJLxjYvFd5HSYT3Y_AU9448317kQYxG501Qx_IHSE/s1600/surprise+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6d7LgQHfH4GTyYGMKG_GJI1y2dxyVsAbtcG4_iO3q7Vldz28iYIVv_R14-AIoQAVSNS5F2-OM_z8fEPB6itPFHaHCaIXwUKrS_SuJLxjYvFd5HSYT3Y_AU9448317kQYxG501Qx_IHSE/s640/surprise+-+Copy.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
"I showed you all of this because I want you to promise share it with others. Show them how special a forest is."<br />
I promised I would.<br />
Acorn Man thanked me and then headed back into the forest. Before I walked away, I looked back to say goodbye. Acorn Man was climbing into the elevator of a large oak.<br />
"Don't forget!" he said as he rose out of sight.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9HtNS4aky1Dy-H5zLKlRmXXDGgFxAHPCMFAueNvqM5RVJtoOCSDsGT8K9lIy49xm9XwTwUCNE4b3nxW-rS03B7_PxdOdFl7EYjrkSt6odskEbreiyd7vqgQUThmBV3fwDTnPj8ffqmpE/s1600/thanks+for+coming+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9HtNS4aky1Dy-H5zLKlRmXXDGgFxAHPCMFAueNvqM5RVJtoOCSDsGT8K9lIy49xm9XwTwUCNE4b3nxW-rS03B7_PxdOdFl7EYjrkSt6odskEbreiyd7vqgQUThmBV3fwDTnPj8ffqmpE/s640/thanks+for+coming+-+Copy.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
And, I didn't.Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-92195860968316747502017-10-16T09:28:00.001-07:002017-10-16T09:28:25.928-07:00Our Own Dolly Llama<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Last year, we lost over 40 lambs before getting them to market. Many of those losses were to bears and coyotes. This spring, it started again. Dead lambs on the hill. Dead lambs in the meadow. Dead lambs near the barn. When the local coyote control officer confirmed that coyotes were killing our little ones, we knew it was time to do something different.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> So, we purchased two llamas. Llamas are camelids and have been traditionally used as pack animals,
but they bond easily with other flocking animals and hate canines. The
breeder who sold us our llamas guaranteed that they would work, or we could trade them in for new ones. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Our ladies were housed in a barn waiting for us when we drove up. For me, it was love at first look, but our llamas didn't feel the same about us.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEuUbWAfmtdBo9M2ns0ZumJlJmuh-dd4U31JjmsdsroQo-RBTQ98dw6Drxq40Hfq1WSl6D8OdgtgULv4T__2RRTJPu7wrIeQwCme825HxwX0WPfXtSEUHKfqLl2YrCD8G53S23jmtHpaE/s1600/IMG_1283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEuUbWAfmtdBo9M2ns0ZumJlJmuh-dd4U31JjmsdsroQo-RBTQ98dw6Drxq40Hfq1WSl6D8OdgtgULv4T__2RRTJPu7wrIeQwCme825HxwX0WPfXtSEUHKfqLl2YrCD8G53S23jmtHpaE/s640/IMG_1283.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> They were not broken to lead, so it took some heavy persuasion to get them on the trailer. Once on, they settled down in the straw for the trip home and we took a 4-wheeler ride to look at the rest of the llamas on the ranch.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> As we drove, a cool breeze wafted out over the meadow, carrying with it the sound of monks in prayer. I pictured long-robed bald men meditating in the barn on the top of the hill, but found this instead. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjORIQ_plGFDBG1rpqPkChIpk5B0xDsnuBwHY_3WddUD6Ri41eYMbz5thNCiaGEpD8RYPzTzIQx8PbbSlJf4pvkhrY07urWmwz8OGyjanEMlzdf7FNAKAxNHTc16kI04BOaddQg7pg0NZk/s1600/IMG_1298.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjORIQ_plGFDBG1rpqPkChIpk5B0xDsnuBwHY_3WddUD6Ri41eYMbz5thNCiaGEpD8RYPzTzIQx8PbbSlJf4pvkhrY07urWmwz8OGyjanEMlzdf7FNAKAxNHTc16kI04BOaddQg7pg0NZk/s640/IMG_1298.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> What I mistook for evening psalms was a barn full of llamas who were unhappy about being confined. It turns out that llamas hum when they are worried and the combined sound of all of them humming at slightly different pitches sounded remarkably like reverent chanting. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> With ears like apostrophes on either side of their heads, and eyelashes that Elizabeth Taylor would envy, the inquisitive llamas looked more like fuzzy pets than fierce guard animals, but we were assured that, once they bonded with our flock,we would be amazed at their dedication to the job.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZwzekdaSsrchyphenhyphenislDTG5q_mECxVYMnH2FQtPyxXgXOW2WwOOuH3nqKBZc8I0wtGGKEzpmOzCtO4dogqFtv0nVdfXdl58fr2X60Gp1uK62xP4qzOXFBGd9Tv3VNm0UAsizN4lIOUWPA1I/s1600/IMG_1297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZwzekdaSsrchyphenhyphenislDTG5q_mECxVYMnH2FQtPyxXgXOW2WwOOuH3nqKBZc8I0wtGGKEzpmOzCtO4dogqFtv0nVdfXdl58fr2X60Gp1uK62xP4qzOXFBGd9Tv3VNm0UAsizN4lIOUWPA1I/s640/IMG_1297.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> When we got our two guardians home, we left them on the trailer overnight and then released them into separate pastures to meet their flocks the next morning. The sheep were terrified of these tall interlopers and ran off to stare at them from a distance. The llamas, having been raised only with other llamas, were equally apprehensive. For two days the llamas and sheep stalked each other, bolting whenever they got too close. We despaired of them ever bonding.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> By the third day, the llamas and lambs were walking parallel to each other and now, six months into the experiment the llamas are fully in charge of their flocks. I renamed one Dolly Llama because she seems so wise and peaceful. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilMe7zBuoUh5yLGHdRLE0szTCIeIPTEslccedGa_4lq4TzyzKQ-DPPJ11qsBqWDxuTUelgJ5d_WtKFJZM9OwO9ykdQOKjWGXJtckTXrLW2tKl7t4Ox__y-bb6jfkNwqu4Lu6r73lyeOpA/s1600/IMG_1313.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilMe7zBuoUh5yLGHdRLE0szTCIeIPTEslccedGa_4lq4TzyzKQ-DPPJ11qsBqWDxuTUelgJ5d_WtKFJZM9OwO9ykdQOKjWGXJtckTXrLW2tKl7t4Ox__y-bb6jfkNwqu4Lu6r73lyeOpA/s640/IMG_1313.JPG" width="480" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Every night, just at dusk, Dolly Llama runs around the pasture rounding up her lambs. When she has bunched them together, she herds them through the meadow gate to the watering trough, where they all stop for a cool drink. Then she leads them up the hill to a hollow where, with a steep ridge to their back, she can stand watch over her flock through the night. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Dolly Llama is not inclined to socialize with mere humans and although she will reluctantly take a few bites of hay from a flake held in my hand, she usually hums nervously if I get too close. Her compatriot, who is with a flock down the road, is equally as dedicated.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Even after six months, I thrill at the sight of our long-necked guardian standing out in the field, swiveling her head back and forth as she scans for danger. She stays on a rise above the lambs so that she can see them all, and it's obvious that the lambs rely on her to make all important decisions.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> The other night part of the lambs came through the gate with her, but some laggards stayed behind for one last bite of grass. When Dolly Llama realized that she didn't have all of her charges, she galloped back into the field and shrieked at the woolly miscreants as she rounded them up. Then she drove them through the gate to safety. Any coyote watching that display would have been terrified.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4TtenoU08iev-uBStg45Y6YVcGw03EU8JjwcGEbuKskUpT4RaXIoIs1yRfc7zPCDVLOpATni29vZDRz1q8_Dm3n0UeleCf5BEVg5HfSAQK9XCvgwwIraySsy3Y4GVhkG8enpx5VeBNwQ/s1600/IMG_1314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4TtenoU08iev-uBStg45Y6YVcGw03EU8JjwcGEbuKskUpT4RaXIoIs1yRfc7zPCDVLOpATni29vZDRz1q8_Dm3n0UeleCf5BEVg5HfSAQK9XCvgwwIraySsy3Y4GVhkG8enpx5VeBNwQ/s640/IMG_1314.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">When she had them gathered and headed in the right direction, Dolly stopped for a moment and stared back at me. I found her fierce expression just a little terrifying myself.</span>Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5976053861104438979.post-66661923216962548982017-09-23T05:44:00.002-07:002017-09-23T05:44:46.594-07:00The Light in the LeavesSometimes a day comes along that just knocks me over the head with its beauty. Today was just such a day. I know that there will be prettier fall days to come. The trees haven't put on all of their autumn splendor, but when you've been worried and the sun breaks through, then the day holds special beauty.<br />
<br />
My mom is coming home from the hospital today after a two week stay. We children have worked to ease the load a bit for my parents as they struggled to make sense of the hard realities of illness. But, we couldn't really carry their load for them. They carried it and then leaned on us when it felt like too much.<br />
<br />
My community has suffered a deep tragedy this week as well, and all of us are shattered as we consider events that we wish could be undone. We are mourning for those involved, but also for ourselves as we consider how fragile this life we live is.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, I can't make sense of the difficult things of this world. I want to ask God why, but that's an unanswerable question. Events in this life are sometimes the result of ripples from a pebble dropped in another time or place. I am grateful that God gave us each other so we could navigate those ripples together. Sometimes, I see Him most clearly when I look in the eyes of a concerned friend.<br />
<br />
So, after a week of helping and being helped, I took a walk in the sunshine and gathered evidence that the world holds beauty, even when things seem dark. The winter is coming, yet the leaves are glorious in the sun.<br />
<br />
I gathered bouquets and put them where the sun could make cathedral windows of my plain glass. Now we see in a glass darkly, but one day we shall see face to face. The stained glass leaves in my windows remind me of the beauty yet to come.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7g_gjb_wN7nOp5mk4Vk4D2bPbkpHoY6uavjGvGYHbHEvHpeI75O-fMKjL4DTboD2EJjR32fsKFY1jiKyaXBfH0w3d9jBRvmCHlC9ZeqXJPQIpR7z-DPkyLLYbD646EbhBcAWadqUfaac/s1600/IMG_0130%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7g_gjb_wN7nOp5mk4Vk4D2bPbkpHoY6uavjGvGYHbHEvHpeI75O-fMKjL4DTboD2EJjR32fsKFY1jiKyaXBfH0w3d9jBRvmCHlC9ZeqXJPQIpR7z-DPkyLLYbD646EbhBcAWadqUfaac/s640/IMG_0130%255B1%255D.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Ginny Neil, The Singing Farmwifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098392391259327445noreply@blogger.com1