Lounging on the Lightning Rod

And how blue is that?

No messing with the color...he is just that blue

The Quail Connection

I have always had a soft spot for quail....Bobwhites that is. First of all when I was a kid, I loved Trixie Belden books. And the kids therein called their club the Bobwhites.

And then there was the time we lived just down the road from here and there were Bobwhites all around and they would whistle back to us, "Bob-bob White!"

And....now there are quail in my dining room. Tiny, itty bitty teeny weeny quail that just hatched in the incubator.

They make noises like squeaky machines.

They are not Bobwhites, but rather Coturnix, but still......

Summer in Retrograde

Waited out a thunderstorm on the sitting porch with this little guy the other day.
I think he is a first year chick and not so very afraid of me.

We are slowly, two years in, getting used to life without dairy cows....except for the hay business, you could call it retirement. I scramble to send the Farm Side in days ahead of deadline so I can play outdoors the rest of the week (and the house clearly shows my preferences, believe me. It's bad enough in winter....but now...well, just don't look and we'll all feel better.)

Brome grass in bloom, but too wet to cut and too cold to dry

This means finally slowing down enough to match the rhythm of the garden and other assorted plants and giving them the attention they deserve. Gardening has been a real pleasure for the most part this year, except for the part about waiting for the cold to go away so we felt safe to plant.

And now, the weather is going backwards towards the cold again, with that big hatchet of icy air showing on the weather map, chopping down from the nation to the north, and making the beans and radishes shiver. Polar Vortex redux.

It is hard to know what to do....I had a nice routine of watering things in the morning before the rest of the world bestirred itself, and then weeding and maybe planting in the afternoon.

Now I heft each flower pot....light enough to be dry enough to water? Hmmm....hard to be sure. I don't want to get any nasty fungusy things going so I wait.

The boss ventured into the dark maw of the cellar last night to divert the hot water from the boiler, from just heating our bathwater to warming the house again. Feels good too! After all, they predicted snow for the High Peaks last night. 

Seriously? It's June. Honey badger don't care though and neither does the weather. As one of the stubbornest wearers of shorts I know (Except for Scott and Alan) I am in sweats and my favorite red flannel shirt.

The boss also unplugged the big freezer to thaw it out, as we sent the mean steer to freezer camp. To give you an idea of how nasty he was, I am still filled with trepidation about going over to the barnyard and he's been gone over a week......

Ah, well, I planted squash yesterday in the howling wind and the kids put the pumpkin and Zucchetta plants in the ground up in the back garden.

And today an Indigo Bunting sang just a foot or two from the office window, early, early, with only me to hear. I watched him for a while too...out-bluing the Bluebirds like it's his job.

I'm sure it will soon warm up, but for the past two years I have never turned on the little air conditioner upstairs.....anyone care to bet on making it three?

I wouldn't be surprised.

The Show must go On

Plantin' taters

This morning will be a hard act to follow. Before my eyes were really open channel one was showing a Ruby-throated Hummingbird that was visiting every single flower on the Cigar Plant found at Sunnycrest a couple of weeks ago.

It was a soft blur of motion, then rattled like a moth against a window as it entered the center of the plant and its wings hit the leaves.

How nice to know that it does attract hummers, as advertised.I found a different member of the same family this week....coincidentally...and I am sold on Cuphea. Very nice plants.

Then I went out the other door for some reason and a female American Redstart was flitting around the new flowerbed Alan and I built this weekend. She has become so tame! she flies right up to see what I am about and tugs at every bit of string and fiber around the yard, looking for nest linings I guess.

It is sweet to see the old cows and the heifer out on the hill. The grass is up to the heifer's back. All you could see of her last night was a dark line above the green. Of course if we kept the deworming program running right, back in the day, this pasture would feed fifty heifers for the season...or at least most of it. 

Three isn't much of a strain. They need their salt block though....so I am nagging at the salt block moving people to get 'er done.

Before and After

Revenge of the Lawn

I running!

It is never dull out on the Northview lawns. An endless panoply of birds and wildlife and little critters galore flows by all day and probably all night.

Please excuse the bullet holes in the big windows...

We see cottontail rabbits and whitetail deer and woodchucks and birds of all sorts.

Sometimes they all come together to give us a really good laugh.

Yesterday we saw a young buck, just in the beginnings of velvet, when we drove away. Mid-evening he strolled onto the lawn through the gap and began to merrily chase birds.

At first it seemed a coincidence, but soon it was clear that he was actually pursuing the starlings that were grazing on the bugs and goodies.

He spent several minutes at that silliness and then came up next to the porch. The boss managed to sneak the door open so I could slip out with the camera and he never even saw me.

Then he stopped....frightened of something going on on the other porch. I thought it was the kids scaring him, making a mechanical noise.

Scares you? Scares me too!

Then I realized that it was a chipmunk.

I went around to that door to find that the munk was alarming at the deer and the deer was alarmed by the rascally rodent.

It was downright absurd as they scared one another out of two week's growth. Finally the deer was scared right away. The chipmunk seemed every bit the victor as he went right on chick chick chicking.

This morning the pump and filter were at the bottom of the pond instead of on the bricks where they belong. I'll bet I can guess who put them there.

Seems like that's what you get when you live in the country....free entertainment on every channel all day long. 

I'm outta here

You can get away with a lot of things

But deliberately poisoning Bald Eagles with an illegal chemical isn't one of them.

In Bloom in June

The Things you See

The cottonwoods are spawning hard...so many fluffy seed floats that they drove me in from the sitting porch last night. I couldn't breath without drawing in a snoot full. They feel like cat hair.

Out of focus shoals along the driveway

However, before I gave up on the pleasantry of the breeze, I got to observe a flock of goldfinches slipping in silently (can you imagine QUIET goldfinches!!!) and nibbling with great dedication on cottonwood seeds. 

Every little while they would lean over to scrub the resulting fluff off their beaks.

Who knew that anything ate those pesky seeds? I sure didn't. The warblers love that tree as well, and peruse it for insects all day long.

Trapped in the spikes of a blooming Orchard Grass plant

I know it is going to have to be cut down in the next couple of years, as it volunteered right in the Y of the driveway, where in a bit it will impact vehicle traffic....but for now, I like it.

How very glad we are that the Black Walnut tree does not distribute
its seeds in the same manner

I'm All Right, But.....

That phone call you hate to get. Well, I got it yesterday. Seems a tractor trailer in Pennsylvania swapped lanes entirely at random with a whole line of cars and trucks beside it.

Guess whose car got hit. Run over really, by the back wheels of the trailer.

Yeah, it will be a while before the Camaro takes us any more cool places.

However, it is probably going to be okay after some serious repairs to door, fenders, skirts, wheel, etc. ......and most importantly, our boy is okay.

There are simply no cars that matter more than that.

That being said, he loves that car and has invested a lot of time in keeping it looking like it just came from the factory....now it looks like it just came from a NASCAR race.

The other side is still nice and shiny.

Wings

13th Lake before the wild times hit

If winter seems to trudge past on slush-clogged snowshoes, then spring flies by on the flickering wings of the hustling hummingbirds.

How did it come to be Memorial Day weekend, when just 17 days ago it froze hard and snowed in some areas?

It never seems quite comprehensible, but somehow we get it figured out, only to have it all change again a couple of months from now.

Meanwhile, we spent the weekend well. Alan took Becky and me to the mountains Saturday afternoon. We toured around a bit and then he introduced us to 13th Lake.

Wowsa what a place! We could get there by car to park in a wood-sheltered alcove ringing with birds I didn't recognize. Three loons dove and paddled right near the shoreline.

The lake was tranquil, but it was very much the calm before the storm.

We started a quick hike to a nice observation point farther up the lake. As we carefully picked our way among stones and protruding roots, the wind began to kick up.

And up.

And up.

Soon the little lake was a froth of whitecaps, row on row, chasing each other down the shore. 

Kayakers scrambled in its howling face. Big drops splatted around us....I tried to get Alan to hurry to the car with the camera and binoculars, but he wouldn't leave me behind.

Still we all made it without getting seriously wet and had a great time. 

Hope we get back there someday...there is talk of taking the canoe. 

Remember

I am waiting until the mosquitoes burn off to go out and water the plants. Right now, as the sun moves over the horizon, way, way to the north, they are pretty aggressive. When it gets going for real they will be beaten into submission and I can work in the yard without being on the menu.

Meanwhile, I am thinking about America and Memorial Day and all that it means.

Thanks to having worked some of the time as a writer for the past decade and three quarters, I have covered about every topic you can think of, including Pearl Harbor. (You have to dig pretty deep to get a thousand words a week, every single week. I don't remember how I tied it to agriculture, but I do remember being pleased with the column. I got to interview real people who had real knowledge of the topic.)

Anyhow, my mother and her cousins truly remember Pearl Harbor...remember playing upstairs at Grandma's and hearing the shock and horror from the adults downstairs when the news came....over the radio I imagine. They remember family members being called away....

Their generation gets it. Understands the sacrifices the people of our nation and other nations who were our allies suffered to save the world from monsters.

My own generation has the handed down memories.....we can and have talked to those who lived the nightmare and saw triumph over it.......and we had our own wars, some of them futile, to reflect upon. We are, after all, the Baby Boomers, born in celebration of the end of that horrendous war.

So we get the crosses and the flags and the solemnity of the day. Our hearts lift when we see the flag flying or hear a high school band playing in the little parade that winds through town.

We remember.

And then there are those who would drag a big eraser across all that was given and sacrificed and suffered, and forget the deeds that were done under the dark light of despair to save the world from true tyranny.  They would rewrite history to favor the folks who brought the battle to us.....they don't get it I guess, maybe because they have an agenda to put forward....or maybe they don't have the stories from their elders to put it all in perspective.

At any rate, what a shame that such a serious and solemn holiday should be marred by bitter controversy....as it has been this year.

Carpe Canem

Ren and the Not Ren

What a day yesterday was. I love May anyhow..... trying to cram as much into every day as I can. Yesterday was a little over the top though....

I had just finished hanging some sheets on the line and stopped to weed the new flower bed  when I heard a sound behind me. 

I turned to look, and there was a tall, golden, dog, standing under the big spruce, and pausing to look around as if confused.....

Speaking of confused...for a minute I thought it was Ren, the kids' dog. Her daytime kennel run is right where this dog had just come from and it looked so much like her.

I called, tentatively......"Ren?"

And the dog jogged away on long, loping legs, like a cheetah on the Serengeti. 

Not Ren.

It was a tall, lean dog and looked wild, every rib an anatomy lesson. It was tattered and battered and torn, but it did and still does look familiar, as if maybe it has been in a Facebook lost dog post at sometime. I followed it hoping to get a pic with my phone but it was just gone.

I posted a description on FB and told the family to BOLO.

When the boss came home it was back, trying to drink from the garden pond. Alan went out to see it and it cornered itself right in the horse yard with Sunny. Not a good plan as the latter is no fan of dogs. Thus Becky put Sunny in the barn and Ren in the house, and Alan gave the wild dog water and a can of food. Loved the water; spurned the food.

He couldn't get closer than 20 feet or so from it, as it trotted and loped nervously up and down the fence. The horse yard is fenced with page wire and cattle panel, so the gate is the only easy ingress and egress. We stood at the gate so it wouldn't leave.

Our local dog warden was called and said he would be right down to pick it up. Thus began one of the coolest things I have ever seen. 

That nice young man spent at least an hour....probably more like over two....patiently talking to the dog, cajoling it with treats and creeping up on it, crouched on his haunches. He covered that yard over and over again, hunkered down at dog height, gently offering friendship, trust, and food to the poor animal.

Talk about a dog whisperer. 

The warden discovered that someone, at sometime, had taught it to sit on command and got it to do so. It wanted to let him touch it so badly, desperately, wagging the tip of its twisted, loopy, tail in a tiny, wistful flutter. It couldn't seem to surrender its safety to someone it didn't know..... it was just too terrified

Then finally, almost suddenly, the loop of the leash was around its neck. As so very often happens with free-running formerly pet dogs, it instantly seemed to sigh with relief and turn from feral wild thing to somebody's lost pet. It trotted calmly beside him down to the truck, and when he patted the tailgate it tried to jump up in the back of the truck.....

How I hope there is a good ending to this story. The dog was taken, I believe, to Ayers Memorial Animal Shelter where it will be evaluated and cared for. Hopefully someone will get all the ticks off and feed its bony body and treat its paws, which were worn and torn right down to bloody flesh and nubs of nails.

Hopefully some caring someone just lost it, rather than discarded it to find its own way, and there will be a happy reunion.

At any rate, we will surely be watching to see what happens. I already was following the shelter on Facebook....now I will make a point of it.

Mad props to Brian Alling, our town warden on a job very well done. 

Good wishes to the poor nameless boy...he looked like a George to me.....I hope it all turns out well for him.

Update:  Owner has been found. Not George, but "Red" will be going to his home ....and how happy we are!

Safer now......