Tag: spring

KICKING THE COWPATS

I was out kicking cowpats yesterday afternoon – as you do.  As you would – if you had seasoned cowpats to kick. But they need to be properly seasoned.  If you kick them when they are too wet they stick to your gumboots. if…

PIGLET PICTURES AS WINTER DESCENDS

PIglets in a second but first I was watching the blowing snow through the green of the glasshouse as I watered the plants being grown for summer consumption. It is an interesting lesson in the juxtaposition of seasons.  Spring piglets in the barn. Snow…

SNOW LIKE SAND

GETS into everything.  Snow like Sand. Everywhere. Like the SPOT. Seuss’s spot.

IPHONE IMAGES

Yes, with two very good cameras at my disposal sometimes I just take pictures with my phone.

A warm puff of spring

Cows watching the grass grow. This is what cows do when they are locked up in the yards. Watch the grass growing.  I need to clean these yards off again this week. Four cows is a good amount of manure. And our gardens are fertilised…

The Ride

When riding on the truck BooBoo stands  on the deck, with his feet up on the sides,  hanging his head forward as far as he can so his head is almost parallel with mine as I drive. He keeps one eye on the road…

Inclement

The wind yesterday was wild. Hair raising actually. We have a few branches down nothing too dramatic but the clouds were incredible. They were moving very fast going from this – to this. Within a few hours. This cloud was the pre-curser to a…

Going Green

The word Green stands for so many different things. Environmentally friendly. The greenies. Marijuana. The Green Party (hey NZ – are they still there?). Green as in innocent or un-knowing. Little Green Men.  Green as in envious. Green Tea. For me: Green means – well – GREEN…

Cojones

(Is that a bad word? But it is the word I need). Slowly I settled back into the farm yesterday. I took a mental health day and decided not to talk to any humans. It was lovely. The sun was out and so was…

Spring Sounds

As Gracie and I worked, yesterday morning, hauling out fork-fulls of winter bedding and spreading it across the corridor field,  flock after flock of geese flew overhead, crying out with their distinctive melancholic call. But they were flying North.  No need for melancholy.  They…