Bug in a Rug

This image is of Tima sleeping under her blanket, on her cushion, in the kitchen, in the morning. I wanted to write Pig in a Poke but I don’t know what a Poke is and fearing it was rude decided not to use it as a heading. She was cold, and crawled under the blanket, …

Peacock Palace

The peacocks and the peahens are still  living together in the loft of the barn in  perfect harmony. I occasionally hear one of their big calls but so far they have all been very quiet.  They tend to keep to the dark side of their palace, which runs almost the whole  length of the barn. …

Yesterday evening I went out to count the chickens and shut their door and  check for minks and found a skunk in the nesting box. Sigh.  Luckily Boo came away when called. We retreated, Said Skunk took her leisurely leave and back in we went to evict the cats and lock down the coop.  On the way …

Onwards and Upwards

I am still trying to capture the murdering bastard who has caught and eaten seven of my chickens. Yesterday there was no mink in the trap but the cat food was gone. So last night John set the trap just to be sure. He has a very precise nature when it comes to these things.  I …

The trap

Yesterday morning I found the chewed carcass of another murdered  chicken where John had parked his truck overnight. Something had eaten it under the truck in the dead of night. Plus another was dead in the run.  Something bad was in the chook house again. Something hungry. So far it has killed and eaten seven chooks. And …

Battening down the Hatches

Yesterday was cold and icy on top of the small amount of snow that sat around all day. However the cold weather did not deter the daffodils. Bless their beautiful nodding heads. Bowed down under the ice but still smiling like crazy.  They are universally joyful. I drained the yoghurt to make Labneh. Daisy and …

Ribbons

Yesterday. The ribbons of green that had begun to wind themselves around the fields were covered in snow. Yesterday. My old Carhart jacket that has served me well for years and lay across my back  for this entire terrible winter, and just as we plummeted back into the 20′s,  broke its zipper. Slopped its dripper. Spat …

Beginning again

Though that is not exactly what I mean. Not like “oh no here we go again”.  More like Right, lets begin again using all the stuff we learnt last season. Farming, like many lifestyles that are governed by nature, runs in cycles, lifetimes, seasons, weather.  Nature is definitely the Guv’.   Spring has its familiar steps. It …

Dairy-maid’s Arms

When I was small my Dad used to squeeze my upper arms between his thumb and his forefinger and chant.. “and the muscles on her scrahwny arms stoock oot like spiders knees”. Always in a broad and deeply pretend Scottish accent.  I would scream with laughter and wriggle away, long sunburnt arms pumping my skinny …