A Quick Word Of Advice

Be very, VERY judicious about shooting a skunk. Consider its intentions. Consider carefully its proximity to your dwelling and environs. Take a moment to run through some possible cause-and-effect scenarios. And above all, consider what you'll have to do with it once the deed is done.

Check It!

Our first beans!

Shame On Me.

We caught this guy last night, dining at the Baby Chick Buffet. Seems he'd already been through the line quite a few times.



For days now I've been wondering how the chicks have been disappearing, and why they look so...bad. Not only have their numbers dwindled, but they've been really high strung and scrappy looking, and I just couldn't figure out what the problem was. Turns out the "problem" was a 6-foot rat snake living under the pine shavings in their house. Poor babies. Who knew I was putting them to bed with a monster every night?

Now, before you rake me over the coals, I understand that snakes such as this one are generally a boon. We owe them a debt of gratitude for keeping the rodents in check. I'm afraid, though, that even the most well-meaning critters sometimes overstep boundaries, and eating our livestock is one such circumstance. Since a snake can't very well be reasoned with and asked politely not to dine at our establishment any more, he (she?) had to be dispatched. All the same, there's just nothing like finding something like this at 11:00 pm in boots and a nightgown.

Shame on me also for something else. I realized lately that I've begun to only share our troubles on this blog, and neglect to give our triumphs equal time. Good stuff DOES happen here, and it makes us happy. The goats are thriving, Caspian the Bumble has settled into his role as Protector of the Caprines, the ducks are downright adorable, we have beautiful lettuce in the garden:



We ate some of these homegrown baby greens for dinner, topped with homemade, marinated feta cheese. THAT was quite a triumph, and so satisfying.

This Colony Has Collapsed

My bees finally arrived today. I should note that today was the WRONG day. I was not here to receive them, it was not the day I expected them, and there was a serious breakdown in communication between me and the apiary. I'm sad to say that they arrived like this:



That is what thousands and thousands of dead bees look like.

I have no idea what happened to them. I know that they left yesterday and arrived at my house about an hour and a half before I got home this evening, so they didn't sit in the hot sun all day. I'm so disappointed. Dead bees in a shipment are to be expected. They only live for about 45 days, so a certain percentage of these bees would have been at the end of their life anyway, but this is exceptional. There are maybe 25 bees left alive, out of roughly ten thousand. I'll be talking to the apiary to find out what went wrong and what happens next.

Our Cup Runneth Over

In virtually every way.

We can't seem to stay on top of all our projects, we're overrun with animals and it JUST WILL NOT STOP RAINING. I'm deeply tired of being wet and muddy all the time. Bone tired. It's not all bad, though. In truth, it's been a bit of a mixed bag.

We lost another Phyllis, I'm afraid - this time to Caspian. While it isn't acceptable for the dogs to kill the chickens, I've come to think that one should simply expect to lose birds now and then in this manner. They are dogs, after all, and a squawking, fast moving chicken is irresistible to just about any dog. The chicks are getting bigger every day and are feathered out enough that they've begun to resemble tiny vultures.



The ducks, on the other hand, are getting quite big and have yet to sprout a single feather. I'm beginning to wonder just how long they'll stay downy.



We're going through some real growing pains with Cass. We came home from dinner on Sunday evening to find him on the wrong side of the fence. Not simply outside of his yard, but in the adjoining cattle pasture that doesn't belong to us. We spent the rest of the evening trying to get him to come to us and trying to figure out how to get him back to our side - it's a cattle-proof perimeter the whole way round, and it's some considerable acreage. We aren't quite sure even how he got over in the first place. When darkness was setting in, we resigned ourselves to giving up for the night, and leaving him to work it out for himself.

In the morning when I went to feed the goats, he was right where we had left him, on the wrong side of the fence. Again I tried to make contact with him (in the rain this time) and again without success. I gave up and went inside to work. I happened to look out the living room window about an hour later to see him wandering around our front yard. Clearly he had solved the problem, but had also overcompensated and was now running loose on OUR property. My mind started reeling with images of poultry being chased hither and yon, and testosterone-fueled foolishness between him and the house dogs. This was NOT okay. I went out after him but he was having none of it. Naturally, it was pouring rain. I would up spending the better part of the morning sweet talking a dog back into the yard with a bag of ham and a pile of meaty beef bones. Oh, I did the song and dance, too - "Looooook at the yuuuuuummy haaaaaaaammm! This is some deeeeeeelicious haaaaammmm!" I can report that this tactic does work. It just may take, oh, you know...HALF THE DAY.

In other news, there has been more reshuffling of our little goat family. Comfort has gone to live with her permanent family, and her brother Surrey is very sad. We brought him and Patience a couple of new friends, though. Two lovely brown wethers - twin brothers - that are just the same age as our two. Someday we hope to train them as a driving team. Now that she's the only girl left in the bunch, Patience is enjoying her herd queen status. We've just settled all of them in for their first night together. Hopefully peace will finally reign in the goat barn.

Where Are We Going?

Resolution

The decision was made. Action was taken. Caspian stayed, and Naomi went back to her previous owner. We need a guard dog, and the situation was far too stressful for her. There was no sign of improvement and her health was deteriorating rapidly, so in the interest of getting her well again and not causing her any more distress, we sent sweet Naomi home. She's a good girl, and we'll miss her, but we know she'll be happier this way.

So...anyone know where I can find a good doe in milk?

We'll miss you, Nae-Nae...