tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67974514468848607852024-03-05T10:35:42.759-05:00WannaBe in the CountryStatchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.comBlogger255125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-90728670524378613512010-12-26T12:54:00.002-05:002010-12-26T13:29:47.144-05:00A Wintry End to the BlogConsidering I haven't posted here since September, I thought it might be time to officially close the blog. Shortly after my previous last post, we discovered we'll be moving up to the Washington D.C. area in the early spring, and suddenly I lost heart for keeping up the blog.<br /><br />Now that we've had time to absorb it, we're excited about the move. Change is what keeps life interesting, and this will certainly be a big one. We'll put the house here on the market next week, and start looking for a townhouse rental near shopping in probably the Maryland suburbs.<br /><br />We'll miss our beautiful country home here in South Carolina. Most especially, we'll miss the weather. Today we got a reminder of what Maryland winters are like. This is what our backyard looked like when we woke up this morning.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJVO_qrNexBLq5k6FzwVBUI4-ZwuIYi_b9DRYwziC9PTx6sfvQfgR2T_djxeRHA7gASEmr6O31_zC1TdiXsTuqtt4vIPXUujQsotvgkBy11RdOiRBg-2hgnWGkVC5whdSG1q8gKiaLF_M/s1600/VR-101226+017.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJVO_qrNexBLq5k6FzwVBUI4-ZwuIYi_b9DRYwziC9PTx6sfvQfgR2T_djxeRHA7gASEmr6O31_zC1TdiXsTuqtt4vIPXUujQsotvgkBy11RdOiRBg-2hgnWGkVC5whdSG1q8gKiaLF_M/s800/VR-101226+017.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br />It's beautiful but the goats Do. Not. Like. It.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkHEhRlbxiuIr3ivpFlGeNNi1wJyM3ChvY_o9UtyYBdeWOqgJ_7d8iwNAJqiKxMupAYB0Y2h-WIwM9ds06_0XLNlEGsEGw313btSg0N2pU4Y6e3xE0bUVCgwKE1ICv9q6fEKAGI8AIchQ/s1600/VR-101226+009.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkHEhRlbxiuIr3ivpFlGeNNi1wJyM3ChvY_o9UtyYBdeWOqgJ_7d8iwNAJqiKxMupAYB0Y2h-WIwM9ds06_0XLNlEGsEGw313btSg0N2pU4Y6e3xE0bUVCgwKE1ICv9q6fEKAGI8AIchQ/s800/VR-101226+009.jpg" /></a><br /><br />They'll be the hardest to leave, I think. We'll find a good home for them, some place where they understand that goats can be great pets, with truly unique personalities.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlyCfbWCkA238XzYnmI5js7rdNKfAWaZcXWs-jQSE0LGxD-lfYk67HjTLrzZBF8UhIumrFUTNB6GvwBDkBwN6EjItFA2YykQL2EPo_jXUJmgppG9LXXqBS6tQL3hf-O6Nb8CxuJEaxpmQ/s1600/VR-101226+010.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlyCfbWCkA238XzYnmI5js7rdNKfAWaZcXWs-jQSE0LGxD-lfYk67HjTLrzZBF8UhIumrFUTNB6GvwBDkBwN6EjItFA2YykQL2EPo_jXUJmgppG9LXXqBS6tQL3hf-O6Nb8CxuJEaxpmQ/s800/VR-101226+010.jpg" /></a><br /><br />We're going to miss this view, but someone else will get a chance to enjoy a wonderful place.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXYlPT97CT5yrrv-7NWYP-WgM-f0gbRz-DKwsbpGtZ8NLRSnxA3kTeeswTinS_RJk4jXLATg_YJcgdRwNS6qhP0nI6f7YvamJIpxxoBL-3GQTIgZsuTo8_eyEEuDE_xHfWNG5LMgyen64/s1600/VR-101226+022.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXYlPT97CT5yrrv-7NWYP-WgM-f0gbRz-DKwsbpGtZ8NLRSnxA3kTeeswTinS_RJk4jXLATg_YJcgdRwNS6qhP0nI6f7YvamJIpxxoBL-3GQTIgZsuTo8_eyEEuDE_xHfWNG5LMgyen64/s800/VR-101226+022.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Thanks so much to everyone who was kind enough to read my silly musings about learning to live in the country! We had a blast. I'll never forget Gus the horse walking us around the pond...Arlene and Emma the goats teaching us how goats like to be petted....Gus and Boot, the cats who moved here with us and left a hole in our hearts when fate took them from us...and Hailey and Irving, the cats who just showed up one day and helped repair the hole. We learned a lot, laughed even more, and now have new challenges to meet. Goodbye!<br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-6623445849895257552010-09-09T20:03:00.001-04:002010-09-09T20:13:36.153-04:00What a Beautiful BerryIsn't this the prettiest berry you've ever seen?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjeIYjKjbAKDbkf9jKha8sKnM2tPXFiXU08NqMQc_lVS2RaKjW58-c3pId1F3Jnwi583XucZvMVSyZXOd-8fKQA2IKfmepVs9cEl6fBq4dp6eVaJCUmyZ04uEzCvX8mrjVWnAssXNK0c/s1600/VR-100908-pond-beautberry+059.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjeIYjKjbAKDbkf9jKha8sKnM2tPXFiXU08NqMQc_lVS2RaKjW58-c3pId1F3Jnwi583XucZvMVSyZXOd-8fKQA2IKfmepVs9cEl6fBq4dp6eVaJCUmyZ04uEzCvX8mrjVWnAssXNK0c/s800/VR-100908-pond-beautberry+059.jpg" /></a> <br /><br />It's the American Beautyberry, a native plant. At our other house, we spent good money at a plant nursery to buy some of these after we saw them growing wild at Jekyll Island, Georgia. Unfortunately, what we bought was the (unlabelled) 'rare' white Beautyberry. When we moved to this house, we had planned to buy some of the purple ones but didn't get around to it that first spring. That August, we started seeing the purple berries everywhere, and found it grows wild by our pond.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpkeEhMYRteenW86vystTudgy-2b4fXLnpNcY2ehcoVlpUi9IMg_UASXs_tMb9wWrbFTOHVyAqY_HoKkXv9dRGPOPGSFf9bXUhasfdNSumSV2W4vIxriIWClyNnElbnbXD650Wp1Zy9co/s1600/VR-100908-pond-beautberry+060.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpkeEhMYRteenW86vystTudgy-2b4fXLnpNcY2ehcoVlpUi9IMg_UASXs_tMb9wWrbFTOHVyAqY_HoKkXv9dRGPOPGSFf9bXUhasfdNSumSV2W4vIxriIWClyNnElbnbXD650Wp1Zy9co/s800/VR-100908-pond-beautberry+060.jpg" /></a> <br /><br />I can't imagine why these aren't more popular.<br /><br />I went to take the picture below, and didn't see the spider until I was right up on it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGueoQYmcyhGdA4MlIMxl3LCAJf5xjOrBJxyy2_JSWWzZrmTXz3-hXZPJlCsVTscpMQM3Op3grUQRnCLyzaYPKoDw9j_J66Hua9OLhUgk5Rv4zVqRTsvGk3xeH_64U9lrH5xohoicnLU/s1600/VR-100908-pond-beautberry+069.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGueoQYmcyhGdA4MlIMxl3LCAJf5xjOrBJxyy2_JSWWzZrmTXz3-hXZPJlCsVTscpMQM3Op3grUQRnCLyzaYPKoDw9j_J66Hua9OLhUgk5Rv4zVqRTsvGk3xeH_64U9lrH5xohoicnLU/s800/VR-100908-pond-beautberry+069.jpg" /></a> <br /><br />These spiders grow wild down by the pond too. They freaked me out a little that first summer, but now I think they're gorgeous. <br /><br />As long as they Stay. Out. Of. My. House.<br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-81196970473219093922010-09-08T20:07:00.001-04:002010-09-08T20:25:14.274-04:00Morning Snakes Are No FunI'm not really a morning person, but even if I were, this is not what I want to see in my living room first thing...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIamxs-Tn5sLFnDg2uwz_fjWt8eY10Qg_k3DwwDj4V0XoLd6lxQ_tZf1b18dvtugJ3Xtdp16aqGIymK0ctWfCCkNKIuJLMi35DwmucaCaX69_MAbpMmWfkzwNB3cA1E2Fo7xqgU1xr7II/s1600/VR-100908-snakeinhouse+003.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIamxs-Tn5sLFnDg2uwz_fjWt8eY10Qg_k3DwwDj4V0XoLd6lxQ_tZf1b18dvtugJ3Xtdp16aqGIymK0ctWfCCkNKIuJLMi35DwmucaCaX69_MAbpMmWfkzwNB3cA1E2Fo7xqgU1xr7II/s800/VR-100908-snakeinhouse+003.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Actually, I don't want it in my living room at any time but I apparently don't get that choice. I get up before my husband does, and normally get ready and creep out for work without turning on lights. This morning I nearly beaned myself on the bedroom door doing that, so when I got to the living room, I turned on the light at a low level, just in time to keep myself from stepping on this (fortunately) harmless but quite impressive-looking Scarlet Kingsnake.<br /><br />I can't be positive how it got into our living room, but I think this next picture may be a clue.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBttK6LA4uzlMr1sFKalNYVva4s-MQ2HXNUwZUgUaisvo1relLYiSOjND9sRQUj_7CGLruF9oa6k1p3m3ABXYe1sJxhuZ9djEYtbadGQx0DENh7UnNJ6OS4HX_MfyAz9NZvTKXXDGHU4/s1600/VR-100908-snakeinhouse+001.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBttK6LA4uzlMr1sFKalNYVva4s-MQ2HXNUwZUgUaisvo1relLYiSOjND9sRQUj_7CGLruF9oa6k1p3m3ABXYe1sJxhuZ9djEYtbadGQx0DENh7UnNJ6OS4HX_MfyAz9NZvTKXXDGHU4/s800/VR-100908-snakeinhouse+001.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I could tell the snake was alive because it was twitching its tail, but I wasn't sure how easy it would be to pick up until our two very excited cats started wrestling with each other and rolled right over it. It didn't move, so I scooped it up with a dustpan and put it in the flower bed outside the front door.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhreE4E3U6Ol9vUVciYKoBxPDmiaoDejyXECmH5sSGJs1fz2L3teUFJq0p0YysE8WWhQ40cdytiO49pxUXAcM1xrq_cOJv9ghfQ6kpbiHCYmFwfyQBe20t_Mo6fFLI387e2QilVEqEHGiE/s1600/VR-100908-snakeinhouse+002.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhreE4E3U6Ol9vUVciYKoBxPDmiaoDejyXECmH5sSGJs1fz2L3teUFJq0p0YysE8WWhQ40cdytiO49pxUXAcM1xrq_cOJv9ghfQ6kpbiHCYmFwfyQBe20t_Mo6fFLI387e2QilVEqEHGiE/s800/VR-100908-snakeinhouse+002.jpg" /></a><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"> </div><div style="CLEAR: both"><br />It was gone from that spot by the time my husband got up, so I'm hoping it was just playing dead and managed to get away. </div><div style="CLEAR: both"> </div><div style="CLEAR: both"><br />And that some annoying young cats won't be bringing it back through the cat door tonight...and into the bedroom to show us what fine hunters they are. </div><div style="CLEAR: both"> </div><div style="CLEAR: both"><br />Hmmm...maybe we'll sleep with the bedroom door shut tonight.</div><div style="CLEAR: both"> </div><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-81456605918586977042010-09-05T18:44:00.001-04:002010-09-05T19:02:24.640-04:00Ducks...Cats...GoatsWe've been observing some strange interactions among the goats, cats, and ducks recently. When we go walking down by the pond, they all tend to hover around. I'd love to think it was our magnetic personalities, but I'm afraid it might have more to do with the way food magically appears when we're around.<br /><br />The other day, Arlene the goat was walking peacefully nearby when a small female duck, T.O., ran up and nipped her in the hind leg for no apparent reason. Arlene looked back, surprised, then just walked on, as if she gets nipped every day by small, ill-tempered ducks.<br /><br />Of course I didn't have a camera with me that day, so this is a picture of Irving the cat wondering what I'm doing, with goats Arlene and Emma in the background, and large, clawed duck Corky hanging out to the side.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HLiqGf_a72eSl6l-m22fxGGGd2e7teE7BJ8CiDpet1aTi7YeJf1T9Q-vbtn5cI_JolZ50wToGjWczPQIdPjdNoKoq8NDdl9j1hgGP6_0kbOe22Kzg0-ZOsZ8_YFTkwsp80n-oaJHyu4/s1600/VR-100908-pond-beautberry+117.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HLiqGf_a72eSl6l-m22fxGGGd2e7teE7BJ8CiDpet1aTi7YeJf1T9Q-vbtn5cI_JolZ50wToGjWczPQIdPjdNoKoq8NDdl9j1hgGP6_0kbOe22Kzg0-ZOsZ8_YFTkwsp80n-oaJHyu4/s800/VR-100908-pond-beautberry+117.jpg" /></a><br /><br />After I took that picture, Halley, our small white cat, came down to see what was going on. She wound up in between Corky and Arlene. As we watched, Corky moved menacingly toward her, so she turned to run -- have I mentioned he has claws? -- and found herself face to face with Arlene, who lowered her head, and horns, and charged...playfully? Who knows? Halley wisely turned and ran.<br /><br />Of course I didn't get a picture of that either, just one of Halley wondering why everyone's so irritable tonight.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisdO0UqtsCvwHZChMHCSWgrfQq0kg_lfBqNf10KUu30BRj1XjDJPwQSDV8Je9pfUcFgOWuhhSMRSzhm8R-qSXUfXCTSyhZlo2R8JEwQuR_Sf-cACTKlBWBLv3-fq7FR7u0Aa0pzPRRfQI/s1600/VR-100908-pond-beautberry+139.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisdO0UqtsCvwHZChMHCSWgrfQq0kg_lfBqNf10KUu30BRj1XjDJPwQSDV8Je9pfUcFgOWuhhSMRSzhm8R-qSXUfXCTSyhZlo2R8JEwQuR_Sf-cACTKlBWBLv3-fq7FR7u0Aa0pzPRRfQI/s800/VR-100908-pond-beautberry+139.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I did have my camera when Arlene decided it was time for me to pet her. She leaned against my leg while I scratched behind her ears. She loves that.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5olULaro0DNiPYd6v7NmlU0GOFKkc4RbvpkB1V2tgXLTnB44oWPzJKIR-cIXag1ANdr2bgKI0Hw-sVTuo2LouzKZHFn2K0fY_7Q-bHcS67l-I06CgpZcsWCDZEMJInd29u8FsIK5lq1Q/s1600/VR-100908-pond-beautberry+131.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5olULaro0DNiPYd6v7NmlU0GOFKkc4RbvpkB1V2tgXLTnB44oWPzJKIR-cIXag1ANdr2bgKI0Hw-sVTuo2LouzKZHFn2K0fY_7Q-bHcS67l-I06CgpZcsWCDZEMJInd29u8FsIK5lq1Q/s800/VR-100908-pond-beautberry+131.jpg" /></a><br /><br />She loves that so much that when I decided it was time to resume taking pictures, she reminded me that it was petting time by pulling on my shorts' leg insistently. Like an idiot, I taught her that works by petting her again. I never learn.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5vkvx5HnkC-LWyumf8Ei-YqM_pvGZRWWyISEiAyZhxsWBTrN3tGOIG_U3H2SWb8Gk7OXGIFO61AwKYdnD9dElHZ6JdxgrOwr6XAIViKIOz1s2HET89feDmQ-qPiEboC2amEsflDlzexU/s1600/VR-100908-pond-beautberry+136.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5vkvx5HnkC-LWyumf8Ei-YqM_pvGZRWWyISEiAyZhxsWBTrN3tGOIG_U3H2SWb8Gk7OXGIFO61AwKYdnD9dElHZ6JdxgrOwr6XAIViKIOz1s2HET89feDmQ-qPiEboC2amEsflDlzexU/s800/VR-100908-pond-beautberry+136.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Seriously, though, could you resist that?<br /><br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-82768601202731678332010-08-20T19:32:00.002-04:002010-08-20T20:02:39.648-04:00Goodbye, BootWe had to have our 18-year-old cat Boot put to sleep this week. He had a long and full life. He was born in Cairo, Egypt, lived with us in six different countries, and died in South Carolina.<br /><br />This is a picture from some years ago, back when he still had teeth. Both our Egyptian cats had major dental problems.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf0gggGO7Wr8F0OmCQ-z1HoldfdSXL7yd1aRU6O8Pvm4tJahrPZTM9ngjCJLQrETFYi_IVecMJbvmMpw_CCLWT1pCf3nc2kEV38dGDbw0SLYjEeKZbU4cDP8ymhik6gZBcKfV_2gRL4Jw/s1600/Boot+on+Jeddah+couch2.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf0gggGO7Wr8F0OmCQ-z1HoldfdSXL7yd1aRU6O8Pvm4tJahrPZTM9ngjCJLQrETFYi_IVecMJbvmMpw_CCLWT1pCf3nc2kEV38dGDbw0SLYjEeKZbU4cDP8ymhik6gZBcKfV_2gRL4Jw/s800/Boot+on+Jeddah+couch2.jpg" /></a><br /><br />He was a beautiful cat, and one of the most intelligent ones I've known.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVPPRSsqhGaJUVAdZh4E7sK74yKagluvPfQRw3Rjm_Chbx6jkQMZPnTgooLDEE_BOEF7Ba3vOzvprs2BNlMq6Sh1ecT4wbEtSt4cNqJ_SUKT3hwRi720UMHOD50TXXaQiWNqu7aCzpFos/s1600/Boot+Closeup+on+Terrace.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVPPRSsqhGaJUVAdZh4E7sK74yKagluvPfQRw3Rjm_Chbx6jkQMZPnTgooLDEE_BOEF7Ba3vOzvprs2BNlMq6Sh1ecT4wbEtSt4cNqJ_SUKT3hwRi720UMHOD50TXXaQiWNqu7aCzpFos/s800/Boot+Closeup+on+Terrace.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I got him in Cairo when a very kind woman drove me across town in rush-hour traffic to see what was supposed to be a long-haired kitten, living with an Egyptian woman who couldn't keep him, after his original family had kicked him out. He turned out to be a short-haired, year-old, nervous wreck of a cat, but I was too embarrassed not to take him after she'd driven me all that way. We stopped at the vet's on the way home, and he told me Boot was feral and could never be tamed.<br /><br />For the first three days, we never saw him. We would wake up to find all the pictures ajar. He had evidently been trying to find a way out in the night, and thought they were windows. On the third day, I decided to give him one last chance. I found him pressed against the wall behind the stove. I held out some food in my hand. He sniffed it, hesitated, then came slowly toward me. As he reached me, he seemed to suddenly relax. He climbed into my lap and began to rub his head all over me.<br /><br />He had just been terrified.<br /><br />We were friends ever after, and he was always my cat, unlike our other cats, who've always loved my husband best.<br /><br />Wondering why I said he was a short-haired cat, when the pictures clearly show otherwise? We took him back to the States for a year after Egypt, and that first winter, poof! He became a long-haired cat.<br /><br />Here he is with Fergie, our other Egyptian cat, not too long after we got them both, back in his brief short-haired phase. She's been gone for years, but she was a wonderful cat.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Bcb1xebP8TIkvNw8oTorWqgj3ztuAG74C4FRhQJVwKt2lPeX0mAbUsybx0lp6qzoFiiLqC1vcvxAlvLphUU6vQAnYL2yBoeiXY7MhecRQRTfbkkNhkUB0Q0JuHJ6puBb6GnmVYRds54/s1600/Boot-Fergie+in+Cairo+1993-cropped.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Bcb1xebP8TIkvNw8oTorWqgj3ztuAG74C4FRhQJVwKt2lPeX0mAbUsybx0lp6qzoFiiLqC1vcvxAlvLphUU6vQAnYL2yBoeiXY7MhecRQRTfbkkNhkUB0Q0JuHJ6puBb6GnmVYRds54/s400/Boot-Fergie+in+Cairo+1993-cropped.jpg" /></a><br /><br />This week the vet told us Boot had diabetes, arthritis, a serious heart murmur, and advanced cataracts. He wasn't enjoying his life any more, and it was time for him to pass on to whatever is next for our beloved pets.<br /><br />I'm just going to remember him from happier days...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQK_hTRuA8q_SywpeLqQMu9_kfsldx3UzNlLvmyEekTVuVeFQ-9H1b9b4xNx-btE_4CrLlNdkemSnc9gn3G7iy6bSXG_UYJlgMOmkJ72Y4ytCxjE-Y6oHfaQPubUHBPMkxu91pqei2S1g/s1600/DCP_2976.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQK_hTRuA8q_SywpeLqQMu9_kfsldx3UzNlLvmyEekTVuVeFQ-9H1b9b4xNx-btE_4CrLlNdkemSnc9gn3G7iy6bSXG_UYJlgMOmkJ72Y4ytCxjE-Y6oHfaQPubUHBPMkxu91pqei2S1g/s400/DCP_2976.jpg" /></a><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-16492800085252497082010-07-25T20:30:00.002-04:002010-07-25T20:45:59.241-04:00Fawn HopesI saw the fawn for the first time this evening...but not under good circumstances. <br /><br />Two of our cats came bursting in through the cat door from outside a little while ago. We went outside to see what had spooked them, and found two cars stopped in the road in front of our house, staring off down the hill into the pasture. They said a deer had tried to jump our fence from the pasture into the road, but couldn't clear the fence. It kept banging into the fence, and then ran down the hill toward the pond. <br /><br />When we heard that, we knew it must have been the fawn, since a grown deer could easily clear the fence. We ran down to look, and sure enough, a spotted fawn was down at the bottom of the pasture, trying to get through the fence that separates us from the neighbor. <br /><br />That fence is wire mesh, and the squares in the top half are no more than about 6" wide. But on the other side of all the fencing on the outer edges of the property is the original barbed wire fencing. We cut it down on the inner boundaries, where we interact with the goats, but left it on the outside to keep predators out. It's not a high fence...but the fawn couldn't get over it, and was trying to go through it. <br /><br />By the time I caught up to it, it had succeeded in forcing itself through one of the 6" squares, and the barbed wire, but was caught by its hips. Its head was on the ground on the other side of the fence, and it was panting heavily. It was bloodied from the attempts to get through the barbed wire. I took its hind legs and straightened them to the rear so that it could complete the slide through the fence, and it took off across the neighbor's yard toward the forest. <br /><br />Deer are considered pests here, as in so many places, and our neighbors have had serious accidents from hitting them on the roads, but I can't help but hope that its mother finds it, and that its wounds aren't too serious. <br /><br />Below is a picture of its mother coming for the ducks' grain on a better evening. <br /><br /><a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvjHUys9iUln7UvHXSXC2SwNBYSe4IDfCa_KxVSKb9OhOri0b4M0Mr0QDcefJ-fSvaoIymoGhEPPnR8mgeH6NZ1F4cJcuGAKAJ45mCfZfT3U_qAnwx-6k6eQzCxPAsSG2pcttDeA_fgSo/s1600/VR-100721-storm+002.jpg'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvjHUys9iUln7UvHXSXC2SwNBYSe4IDfCa_KxVSKb9OhOri0b4M0Mr0QDcefJ-fSvaoIymoGhEPPnR8mgeH6NZ1F4cJcuGAKAJ45mCfZfT3U_qAnwx-6k6eQzCxPAsSG2pcttDeA_fgSo/s800/VR-100721-storm+002.jpg' border='0' alt='' /></a> <div style='clear:both; text-align:NONE'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-64815233548865946722010-07-22T20:21:00.001-04:002010-07-22T20:30:22.672-04:00Ducks Continue to Demand ScratchThe deer must still be eating the ducks' grain, because they were up in the yard again this evening. This time the females came up to the garage as usual, but the males came up the hill into the front pasture. We heard the quacking, and of course when we came out, the goats thought we were going to feed them and went on high alert.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9-Kl4Qz9ClHCQzd0Mf70yPV1bGJO1SGLE_CFXy95S0XBfMjyY3W5AkWUz_akWuuY1-h6bFCELC4ucTnHooXX5L0SrxdtrWsHaqD4_A01-Eqj6SaQKMW3-loeNg0KoPywDuML4C8RbJY/s1600/VR-100722-ducks+007.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9-Kl4Qz9ClHCQzd0Mf70yPV1bGJO1SGLE_CFXy95S0XBfMjyY3W5AkWUz_akWuuY1-h6bFCELC4ucTnHooXX5L0SrxdtrWsHaqD4_A01-Eqj6SaQKMW3-loeNg0KoPywDuML4C8RbJY/s800/VR-100722-ducks+007.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I thought I was going to have to open the gate into the front yard for the ducks, but they figured it out, quacking loudly as they went.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga3QGiLko-wYTdD50j6MbEO7j3OZWTuzlhQgdS3LnM12bX6MaAmlrP2HhJb0L7WhqKJiovMGsufOl39geY6tKvk4vAOpv79DH6LrL8-V9xBl80G_V3UDAsk7PblckBtQMY8mZeJV1yvX0/s1600/VR-100722-ducks+014.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga3QGiLko-wYTdD50j6MbEO7j3OZWTuzlhQgdS3LnM12bX6MaAmlrP2HhJb0L7WhqKJiovMGsufOl39geY6tKvk4vAOpv79DH6LrL8-V9xBl80G_V3UDAsk7PblckBtQMY8mZeJV1yvX0/s800/VR-100722-ducks+014.jpg" /></a><br /><br />They gave Halley the cat a wide berth...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZ3_WWjLKKLPHzsbZYDFDG1c-JW6AJQUVEfnR4P96OBM_SFL1CZ4AtXx8VgZFUXzEh_X-WsrECcHLQBIit-v1nE-RWZmKXNkmVAWXPL_jPfvVH77m-mepFJujjPEx2ZyFd1rmoGMxoco/s1600/VR-100722-ducks+017.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZ3_WWjLKKLPHzsbZYDFDG1c-JW6AJQUVEfnR4P96OBM_SFL1CZ4AtXx8VgZFUXzEh_X-WsrECcHLQBIit-v1nE-RWZmKXNkmVAWXPL_jPfvVH77m-mepFJujjPEx2ZyFd1rmoGMxoco/s800/VR-100722-ducks+017.jpg" /></a><br /><br />...and finally were rewarded with a bin full of 'scratch' after the long journey.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVPA7I2dKeOWp9fTnFqOf7LgMwp4S5Q9rSDj8NjZfgbGST_z4GMBxMRk63-c2F_104CP7uHq9u0SPu0nRzoYLyPoAgV9vc8D631vPIlyAtIDDaT6LLAKDhyjhTQnGT3fwRu6q88KNl1E/s1600/VR-100722-ducks+037.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVPA7I2dKeOWp9fTnFqOf7LgMwp4S5Q9rSDj8NjZfgbGST_z4GMBxMRk63-c2F_104CP7uHq9u0SPu0nRzoYLyPoAgV9vc8D631vPIlyAtIDDaT6LLAKDhyjhTQnGT3fwRu6q88KNl1E/s800/VR-100722-ducks+037.jpg" /></a><br /><br />We had thought about trying to scare the deer away, until one day she brought her fawn with her. <br /><br />I guess we can just refill the bin more frequently for a while longer. <br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-11238364435806301522010-07-22T09:37:00.001-04:002010-07-22T09:47:57.789-04:00Greedy DucksOur seven ducks mostly live off the pond, but they've gotten used to us supplementing their food with a grain product called 'scratch.' We put it in a bin outside the pasture so that they can get to it by coming under the gate, but the goats can't get it. The goats have a little addiction problem with grain, so we keep it away from them.<br /><br />The ducks appear to have a little addiction problem of their own, though. We now have a deer who visits daily and eats their scratch, and it ticks them off mightily. When it happens, they come up from the pond to the house and let us know about it.<br /><br />They know we used to keep the scratch in the garage, so they come up there. We moved it to the storage area after they ripped open the bag in the garage and spilled it over everything, but they haven't caught on to the change yet.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHUaQX7LO0PW4T_9fL7PEOfLLk4rmvzzPx1iNvTUnbjlsAJ_eZ2jCqjr9Duh9mmYmA3SpegrEyqxjM4vFhMq6s1Mm6vghvY4urZVciXfr3nD3rtFojVM0TucJuwdfc1b17_J8XHJHQUU/s1600/VR-100721-storm+014.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHUaQX7LO0PW4T_9fL7PEOfLLk4rmvzzPx1iNvTUnbjlsAJ_eZ2jCqjr9Duh9mmYmA3SpegrEyqxjM4vFhMq6s1Mm6vghvY4urZVciXfr3nD3rtFojVM0TucJuwdfc1b17_J8XHJHQUU/s800/VR-100721-storm+014.jpg" /></a><br /><br />They stopped along the way to let me know they were mad.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv8cQ1_UeZXgz7WqfVUIX_3RhTZ__3ZWdAZGqob2Bpllq79azBTABhqfgeaMhiMnPeuPpL0n6Rs9cMcChJ1xgAO-rDeMWvQpJBaYYrKYOdB0fremzHzd0_bPd2-qHTt6mParc8mBdNACQ/s1600/VR-100721-storm+015.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv8cQ1_UeZXgz7WqfVUIX_3RhTZ__3ZWdAZGqob2Bpllq79azBTABhqfgeaMhiMnPeuPpL0n6Rs9cMcChJ1xgAO-rDeMWvQpJBaYYrKYOdB0fremzHzd0_bPd2-qHTt6mParc8mBdNACQ/s800/VR-100721-storm+015.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Then my husband came out with a filled bin, and they followed him down to the pond.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0VO_heg9ER97aiEqcPstyX_mrofodN4XwcFWM2mUiByKwquZpsZ36RvVHp3m81gi4AzVEd8Ot5XwYDTzAMBbIzd0G_qOkMlBKk_8h-ewR-epfGs1wKE1i5kfMDlli0Llvv284lz36aS8/s1600/VR-100721-storm+018.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0VO_heg9ER97aiEqcPstyX_mrofodN4XwcFWM2mUiByKwquZpsZ36RvVHp3m81gi4AzVEd8Ot5XwYDTzAMBbIzd0G_qOkMlBKk_8h-ewR-epfGs1wKE1i5kfMDlli0Llvv284lz36aS8/s800/VR-100721-storm+018.jpg" /></a><br /><br />These are the three males, plus the original female, who hangs out with them. The other three females have to wait until the males are done eating.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigQK3BgWRotbrDpE7CVFjyhBXxvfLhxDqyZPD8K5KB9Su38kv87aEsHOJfC5PZ1V5bfjj9U9nLahy_YUEj9gI2A5CSAsyOh_ZlbRVBShQF8WVQWagikIli9ggB9ktcBqd4lHha7c27sjk/s1600/VR-100721-storm+021.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigQK3BgWRotbrDpE7CVFjyhBXxvfLhxDqyZPD8K5KB9Su38kv87aEsHOJfC5PZ1V5bfjj9U9nLahy_YUEj9gI2A5CSAsyOh_ZlbRVBShQF8WVQWagikIli9ggB9ktcBqd4lHha7c27sjk/s800/VR-100721-storm+021.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I've tried to encourage the females to try a little women's lib, but then no one tries to peck me to death when I eat.<br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-67197794521275649422010-07-21T20:13:00.002-04:002010-07-21T20:20:15.919-04:00Goodbye GrillWe had a violent little storm here this evening. The wind kicked up, then the rain started coming across in horizontal sheets. We went out afterward to find it had knocked the top half of our dead tree down, and it tore up our little concrete pad patio set.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvQTUrrQGuLmzB04kSlOzVquaKTz34EuZHsR6TBI4esUp3ZW6yBivfb9s9s6pwVAt0jmue9EZqlPOWZm4Dhj5ljNCRQpOUj8hpSuC9dQPXI5ea5IfXGMS147o0TbasBDa4P2ki2wyeF4E/s1600/VR-100721-storm+004.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvQTUrrQGuLmzB04kSlOzVquaKTz34EuZHsR6TBI4esUp3ZW6yBivfb9s9s6pwVAt0jmue9EZqlPOWZm4Dhj5ljNCRQpOUj8hpSuC9dQPXI5ea5IfXGMS147o0TbasBDa4P2ki2wyeF4E/s800/VR-100721-storm+004.jpg" /></a><br /><br />It knocked the table over, broke the umbrella, and blew some of the cushions into the wood. Then we noticed what it did to the grill.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvIIO26xerEgbZagoqe5u5d8Y4D2euDWa6ctdNYi-xJhowPPYNdpGUdypkdRobg1x9_SvtXWM5zuzombhdQwlZfMhqe8a0koRp7RyPLEcOENIAEudb3T_awM6V-Jq6IbrNhMk0NYTxr0/s1600/VR-100721-storm+009.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvIIO26xerEgbZagoqe5u5d8Y4D2euDWa6ctdNYi-xJhowPPYNdpGUdypkdRobg1x9_SvtXWM5zuzombhdQwlZfMhqe8a0koRp7RyPLEcOENIAEudb3T_awM6V-Jq6IbrNhMk0NYTxr0/s800/VR-100721-storm+009.jpg" /></a><br /><br />The storm flipped the grill over and blew it into a chair. The unfortunate thing is that it was actually my Mom's grill that we've been keeping for her. Sorry, Mom!<br /><br />The goats didn't enjoy the storm. We went down to the run-in shelter and found them cowering inside. Emma was bleating pitifully. (Do goats bleat? She was doing something pitifully.)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV_EGuNaclGEEsRylS3-0OgatWQe26xtUns5-cCIV1Kr5JxTJVGpELq_VDo-tisQuztgMdy2TF1XQ_dDAr8BbkKfvsTKmvEddEFbAWQ7x5o7-NodWWtHsFFuDfhWrgYdYd0E4LlfD36Z4/s1600/VR-100721-storm+028.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV_EGuNaclGEEsRylS3-0OgatWQe26xtUns5-cCIV1Kr5JxTJVGpELq_VDo-tisQuztgMdy2TF1XQ_dDAr8BbkKfvsTKmvEddEFbAWQ7x5o7-NodWWtHsFFuDfhWrgYdYd0E4LlfD36Z4/s800/VR-100721-storm+028.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-15492830494508014692010-07-03T15:38:00.002-04:002010-07-03T17:35:43.704-04:00Irving is PeculiarOur cat Irving is a little eccentric. One of the strange things about him is his resting posture. This is what we might call a 'half-Irving': hind legs stretched fully to the rear, and one front leg stretched before him.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1VlpAN4a4rap_Gwjs7bR-b498Yhl6BBMw3pCq_h5uz2gMTKP7Y2CpBiJRdckD5YKE7YSkwWwIiRHHCeKJU3fsnYVplIQMXN3flOhJN37yiUqpELayIob193fpDK3TrfCF_L_DRBly_8k/s1600/VR-100703-Irving+002.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1VlpAN4a4rap_Gwjs7bR-b498Yhl6BBMw3pCq_h5uz2gMTKP7Y2CpBiJRdckD5YKE7YSkwWwIiRHHCeKJU3fsnYVplIQMXN3flOhJN37yiUqpELayIob193fpDK3TrfCF_L_DRBly_8k/s800/VR-100703-Irving+002.jpg" /></a><br /><br />He's more likely to be found in the 'full-Irving' position, though: all legs extended.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-hISoy3iC6-1pcfkIHtQacsdrr9EeVkFpNx8WQIjSWR3sR78ppTt1goS2s6cEKmOVXorTlB5T2YQR89PFaxPzOZw01bwHQUu8qAccS4YZKkry-6p6ucWhzZMpEOJ50_kSZmvRQWxIUtM/s1600/VR-100703-Irving+005.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-hISoy3iC6-1pcfkIHtQacsdrr9EeVkFpNx8WQIjSWR3sR78ppTt1goS2s6cEKmOVXorTlB5T2YQR89PFaxPzOZw01bwHQUu8qAccS4YZKkry-6p6ucWhzZMpEOJ50_kSZmvRQWxIUtM/s800/VR-100703-Irving+005.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Here's an aerial view...because, of course, the world needs to see this.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdrZsxRCmukcukInpO_NNOHgIR2DRoaSt7klysLh6wqES3wItEwnKZ8cJ-m-5cZcKKwg41cDAsoLoDrpFr87CO2fOq_Wzm3UouayhEmICgqwUU5QfCiFBO1XhmHhlbBAOQUl6mQpiBUSU/s1600/VR-100703-Irving+009.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdrZsxRCmukcukInpO_NNOHgIR2DRoaSt7klysLh6wqES3wItEwnKZ8cJ-m-5cZcKKwg41cDAsoLoDrpFr87CO2fOq_Wzm3UouayhEmICgqwUU5QfCiFBO1XhmHhlbBAOQUl6mQpiBUSU/s800/VR-100703-Irving+009.jpg" /></a><br /><br />We've had a number of cats over the years, but I've never seen one whose habitual position is like this. It makes me laugh every time I see him. <br /><br />Those of you who have been seeing pictures of him since he showed up on our back deck may notice that there has been some belly extension as well. Yes, our Irving likes his food...but only dry food, not wet food. <br /><br />He is a strange cat. <br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-83890989467721191062010-06-27T14:20:00.001-04:002010-06-27T14:45:34.699-04:00And the Landscape Decision Was...About a month ago, I posted that we were trying to decide what to do with our 'new construction' scalped earth. The only thing I knew for sure about it was that I didn't want to lay sod. We're trying to be 'green,' and I'm convinced that lawns aren't the best thing for the environment. For over a year, we've been trying to figure out what else we could do.<br /><br />So two weeks ago, the sod truck came.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWEHuQr_pL9Z1DSIvX116lNcLGMExtWWxsKCsXJTVuTUInQewTx5GQqYe62oirHKmLkuoK8zibXTtVwKE2zuW41t7sNrKiCqnWyVSgrRUYohoVv5OcSrEAUnjpHfu3_HueunsG3HuJiVo/s1600/sod_005.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWEHuQr_pL9Z1DSIvX116lNcLGMExtWWxsKCsXJTVuTUInQewTx5GQqYe62oirHKmLkuoK8zibXTtVwKE2zuW41t7sNrKiCqnWyVSgrRUYohoVv5OcSrEAUnjpHfu3_HueunsG3HuJiVo/s800/sod_005.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Yes, I caved. We had several landscapers come out to give ideas, and I did a lot of reading, and in the end, sod was the only thing that made sense for our landscape. Almost anything else would have involved replacing the irrigation system, since the pipes are so close to the surface, plus massive soil amendments, since 2-3 feet had been stripped off the ground to level it before the house was built, and all that's left was hardpan clay. You can see in the picture above what the ground being sodded looked like.<br /><br />We had them put Bermuda sod in the area between the house and the apartment, where not even common Bermuda seed would grow.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-nQ8E6y9itcpNSlChtwfkkUAev8KcHVHKfZUb1OOiRjZbgoOwd_-UMat-znx-NgQhylFAd1IvhCQV6QMoThp5s9nitLktXcp3Lg7SE2XRQpzY76Zds0l_gfsmkCPj1tZ7ST_oKqAAs0Q/s1600/sod_008.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-nQ8E6y9itcpNSlChtwfkkUAev8KcHVHKfZUb1OOiRjZbgoOwd_-UMat-znx-NgQhylFAd1IvhCQV6QMoThp5s9nitLktXcp3Lg7SE2XRQpzY76Zds0l_gfsmkCPj1tZ7ST_oKqAAs0Q/s800/sod_008.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Then there was the area between the front yard and the front pasture, which has pipes running all through it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA55BdrtmWRsbci1kD7ezjhn_qW9kZHws7c2NpxYcKc5CDYl3Qz4AlOjdiZN9R2TnpI4Rp_tr-g9HvJvx_cJmf8sXsSArkojHnRZdTbUIxA2tuSy-Qs3rvWp3BNDilwRc7tuRUCicW1iA/s1600/sod_009.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA55BdrtmWRsbci1kD7ezjhn_qW9kZHws7c2NpxYcKc5CDYl3Qz4AlOjdiZN9R2TnpI4Rp_tr-g9HvJvx_cJmf8sXsSArkojHnRZdTbUIxA2tuSy-Qs3rvWp3BNDilwRc7tuRUCicW1iA/s800/sod_009.jpg" /></a><br /><br />And finally, the area down near the road, where the construction debris and erosion meant nothing would grow, but where we needed space for cars to park.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBHMNEMvR-IJ2TMYcBg4Zfyd7Omv16gF12wt9zxTFrBepSfDETm-2a9TesV-AR46nLbLGI8aH7TD-3vp3TFxr6bRkxUcgl0Qg7LjfJTcKnXCC0YsP9-tt3tr_zlaNVDD71E5QeC-3MIjk/s1600/sod_0012.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBHMNEMvR-IJ2TMYcBg4Zfyd7Omv16gF12wt9zxTFrBepSfDETm-2a9TesV-AR46nLbLGI8aH7TD-3vp3TFxr6bRkxUcgl0Qg7LjfJTcKnXCC0YsP9-tt3tr_zlaNVDD71E5QeC-3MIjk/s800/sod_0012.jpg" /></a><br /><br />There's still the large area behind the house that's just weeds now. We'll worry about that in the fall, and I'm still hoping to do a naturalized meadow and butterfly garden there, since the soil is diggable.<br /><br />We don't plan to use herbicides or pesticides on the new lawn, so the weeds will eventually move in, of course, but the bare earth is covered, and it's so much more enjoyable to look at.<br /><br />I'm trying to avoid the 'lawn alternative' web sites I'd been reading, but for anyone interested, a great site is <a href="http://www.lawnreform.org/">www.lawnreform.org</a>. Please don't tell them what I did! :-><br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-71135690825676417892010-06-27T13:37:00.001-04:002010-06-27T14:13:28.703-04:00Storms Pass ByRain is passing us by....nearly every day recently, storm clouds form all around us, and we can see other areas getting rain, but it ignores us. The other night we had a spectacular storm, but didn't get much rain out of it. We watched from the front porch as lightning branched all over the darkened sky for an hour. After the lightning converged in front of us into something resembling a fireball, with a crack of thunder at a frequency I've never heard before, it occurred to us that perhaps we might be better off in the house. It was beautiful...but not much rain.<br /><br />Last night, the clouds started forming again. The view in the picture below is to the south, where our weather normally comes from. You can see the goats looking toward their shelter, trying to decide whether it's time to take cover.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiew05pQk3FAL-6oLVq3etwTa9XpU8SqWllQCYv0rxwdkGla3D5p5I2TO9z7i_OcoldKy-fLQ8rnTXcvrpTJO6AUpL1CMMg3ragiVchp_WbVUtmfqwXDNI4_IyHAS79McUIS37i7gAaakQ/s1600/VR-100626-storm+017.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiew05pQk3FAL-6oLVq3etwTa9XpU8SqWllQCYv0rxwdkGla3D5p5I2TO9z7i_OcoldKy-fLQ8rnTXcvrpTJO6AUpL1CMMg3ragiVchp_WbVUtmfqwXDNI4_IyHAS79McUIS37i7gAaakQ/s800/VR-100626-storm+017.jpg" /></a><br /><br />After a while, the thunder clouds began gathering. There was one in particular that was shaped like a mushroom cloud. If the atom bomb had never been invented, would I have seen it as so ominous?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBRjvovXTDGGqNbr9J5USYUrVBoGSv1hhyphenhyphensInJW0IvaxiQsjaJgi0zAKDfOetoDnfxhq0ndtWxBu_hT5-VwCaHmvYuVlDGh_EKsKgcmGfi5jwbJ_Peaq4HGQ-g8R1vNZSkbVx96A5-xSI/s1600/VR-100626-storm+011.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBRjvovXTDGGqNbr9J5USYUrVBoGSv1hhyphenhyphensInJW0IvaxiQsjaJgi0zAKDfOetoDnfxhq0ndtWxBu_hT5-VwCaHmvYuVlDGh_EKsKgcmGfi5jwbJ_Peaq4HGQ-g8R1vNZSkbVx96A5-xSI/s800/VR-100626-storm+011.jpg" /></a><br /><br />As I stepped into the front yard to get pictures, I realized that there was a huge dark cloud right over our house. Finally, rain!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq7FClAxfair8_W2YuSfXKcZGiWMB2gSsEhHw3hoJb1_KXbf3GXHszebJ7YGoNn6U4g7-QKGIwNgiU1JV55sCLzhv5jzC_gVt0zepHXXqBxvX_cN6nwhcpuTo4pHiz2T30iUKwkru7-cw/s1600/Copy+(2)+of+VR-100626-storm+009.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq7FClAxfair8_W2YuSfXKcZGiWMB2gSsEhHw3hoJb1_KXbf3GXHszebJ7YGoNn6U4g7-QKGIwNgiU1JV55sCLzhv5jzC_gVt0zepHXXqBxvX_cN6nwhcpuTo4pHiz2T30iUKwkru7-cw/s800/Copy+(2)+of+VR-100626-storm+009.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Ten minutes later, the rain was done. It was better than nothing...but not much better.<br /><br />The storm clouds are all around us again this afternoon. I'm sure today will be our day...<br /><br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-90543319270205644452010-06-06T13:19:00.001-04:002010-06-06T14:42:48.757-04:00Always Ask the TurtleLately turtles from our pond have been climbing the hill to the front pasture, and trying to get out to the road from there. They're blocked by the fence, and I've been picking them up and returning them to the pond. I mentioned that to my sister, and she told me a story by Gloria Steinem called 'Always Ask the Turtle,' in which she did something similar only to find out that the turtle was making great efforts to reach an egg-laying spot. I can now imagine these poor turtles cursing me all the way back down the hill.<br /><br />So this morning when I found Irving the cat watching a turtle en route to the fence, I decided to follow the turtle to see where it was trying to go.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqLAPKiPDGKhd-N3mNoTav-SChSH2SQCMuAy6mQZC-YHeFldY50umLbiFQf74kGKjOSINb0OMN6CbK0n_wkDohB-hkdL4BdMwAAm5fqttcx2uBkPRGKt_XJaKdw21b52Ho4iQBS40Cz34/s1600/VR-100606-turtle+001.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqLAPKiPDGKhd-N3mNoTav-SChSH2SQCMuAy6mQZC-YHeFldY50umLbiFQf74kGKjOSINb0OMN6CbK0n_wkDohB-hkdL4BdMwAAm5fqttcx2uBkPRGKt_XJaKdw21b52Ho4iQBS40Cz34/s800/VR-100606-turtle+001.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Evidently I needed help, so the goats and Irving followed me.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT5bEJQvtOsFZfM1cS2soXllGQfROeqr1C1uhOlc-qiymYg4Txs209aiw3ZXjl3fbXwdGWA0cI73IYtfkrkEqGicbYym33MgroHoHt14j3i0q7tdBsOG51ZhOGBxx1nIi1jq4_lPZM0zM/s1600/VR-100606-turtle+012.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT5bEJQvtOsFZfM1cS2soXllGQfROeqr1C1uhOlc-qiymYg4Txs209aiw3ZXjl3fbXwdGWA0cI73IYtfkrkEqGicbYym33MgroHoHt14j3i0q7tdBsOG51ZhOGBxx1nIi1jq4_lPZM0zM/s800/VR-100606-turtle+012.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Irving was intensely interested in....and puzzled by...the turtle. The turtle made a valiant effort to get through the fence, but it was just too big.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF_g93kN2j1QS5LNNDH3IL8UGQhBAJPIkq8arDAUfmUJ62BmzCwEoDMLUSDpxk35vr7TK_ymJhMVSscnciz3OqceHZIWhSxIoNZv8B5McFZMo9uF2BSWgc6BbUedyG45NE7Orj_9xotzQ/s1600/VR-100606-turtle+023.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF_g93kN2j1QS5LNNDH3IL8UGQhBAJPIkq8arDAUfmUJ62BmzCwEoDMLUSDpxk35vr7TK_ymJhMVSscnciz3OqceHZIWhSxIoNZv8B5McFZMo9uF2BSWgc6BbUedyG45NE7Orj_9xotzQ/s800/VR-100606-turtle+023.jpg" /></a><br /><br />So I carried it back out through the gate and across the road to our neighbor's property, and released it under the neighbor's fence. Our neighbor has a couple of hundred acres, and a large pond, so I'm sure it'll find a good home there. The turtle scampered away on its mysterious (to me) mission.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLkopisNYoodn8LivpITzWnf7k7t15eSk1AEEswK6vzpkv4dtQ4W0sE9m_GGFKcF6dlnjvo9OCPnxmDAQW8H7reL-MuR06KSQvzYqxA6palOSHnE-N_1v6fefDgkjj6FErs9a_x0lv3mE/s1600/VR-100606-turtle+031.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLkopisNYoodn8LivpITzWnf7k7t15eSk1AEEswK6vzpkv4dtQ4W0sE9m_GGFKcF6dlnjvo9OCPnxmDAQW8H7reL-MuR06KSQvzYqxA6palOSHnE-N_1v6fefDgkjj6FErs9a_x0lv3mE/s800/VR-100606-turtle+031.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I'm struggling with whether to cut the bottom part of the fence so that the turtles can get through. The fence is intentionally designed so that smallish predators, like foxes, can't get through easily. It seems to have worked, as we haven't lost any of our ducks or cats to ground predators. I'll have to think about what the greater good is in this situation.<br /><br />Here's a link to a version of the Gloria Steinem story. She ties the cute story to the need to be wary of totalitarian instincts on both the political right and left. Always ask the turtle!<br /><br />http://www.yuni.com/library/docs/217.html<br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-20179632931365540302010-05-30T14:08:00.002-04:002010-05-30T14:14:14.866-04:00Apologies to an Elderly CatMy last post was about how Boot, our 18-year-old cat, mistakenly attacked our younger cat, Irving, in the night, thinking he was a strange cat. Well, Boot was right and I was wrong.<br /><br />This morning I did yard work, so didn't go in to take my shower until about noon. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move in the closet. When I checked, there was a small, strange cat sitting calmly in the closet corner. So Boot did actually see something worth screaming about...for a cat.<br /><br />Our house guest is fortunately experienced in cat rescue, so got it out of the closet and into a carrier. We'll check with the neighbors, but I suspect we've been the victim yet again of a 'cat drop-off.' Both Irving and Halley came to us that way last year.<br /><br />This story doesn't have an ending yet, because I don't know what the ending will be. I DO know that it would avert a lot of suffering if people would spay and neuter their pets...Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-28673603077312593642010-05-30T10:16:00.001-04:002010-05-30T10:27:29.928-04:00Cat Dementia?Our 18-year-old cat, Boot, started screaming horribly at 5:00 this morning. We leapt out of bed, and ran into the living room to see what was wrong. In the dim light, and by the sound of his screams, we could tell that he had an animal cornered in the den. We assumed a stray cat -- or worse -- had come in through the cat door.<br /><br />He chased the animal through the house, screaming as it clawed at the windows trying to escape. Then it went under the bed and didn't come out. We got ourselves together, turned on the lights, found a broom and prepared to deal with it, while Boot looked at us as if to say, 'Over to you,' and strolled away.<br /><br />We opened the door out to the deck so we could chase it outside, pulled our rolled-up oriental rugs from under the bed, and finally faced the creature, who was cowering against the wall.<br /><br />It was our other cat, Irving.<br /><br />We think Irving must have brushed up against Boot in the dark, and Boot, who seems to be slipping into the early stages of elderly cat dementia, mistook him for an unknown animal and attacked.<br /><br />It's funny now. At 5:00 a.m. -- not so much. Poor Irving.<br /><br />Here's Boot at a better time in his life, enjoying a nap.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ5KTLWujUJpZOfkirqcuz1M-B_gJxD6m3l6SU-99_VbmKM0adwhPVCVbONE5A4w6LSRSa8une9DfEV7Suih73SbjKGLg2ZHHR-Rx4IEDx7YDorJ-27cXbmbyoyHQ0-2HGUfwzwXkmK-w/s1600/010709+068.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ5KTLWujUJpZOfkirqcuz1M-B_gJxD6m3l6SU-99_VbmKM0adwhPVCVbONE5A4w6LSRSa8une9DfEV7Suih73SbjKGLg2ZHHR-Rx4IEDx7YDorJ-27cXbmbyoyHQ0-2HGUfwzwXkmK-w/s800/010709+068.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihl4bsozCqkUk8JJKklkJ5avWUnbhEeK8YbXBJwf0kga3JawzQ3RFiON0sZaYDdTruqsNrtiU6dYZlYJG08eMgolZKpH2QGu42x4TeTztqp6xboGCAQ9phdORMregQykmEMU2aJXcee5k/s1600/010709+070.jpg"></a><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-30615033313552017662010-05-27T21:25:00.001-04:002010-05-27T21:38:01.648-04:00Goat AssociationsOur goat Arlene has learned that if we're sitting on the pond bench, she'll get petted. Oddly, though, she's come to associate the bench itself with the petting. So if we're standing nearby, she'll go rub against the bench to show us that she wants to be petted.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNTVbweuRK6M7ik0EqglJDg40pulH75qDoxfUqNzsoo5VrCLbTHLE3OZM_wf218IC27sTkFDUiLRUS2TzOjV0fj41qrK98t1enwgFufjalXVWj_CiBMAG4QwS4PO5F7Fp8pdrYKQUiVM/s1600/VR-1005227-goats+014.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNTVbweuRK6M7ik0EqglJDg40pulH75qDoxfUqNzsoo5VrCLbTHLE3OZM_wf218IC27sTkFDUiLRUS2TzOjV0fj41qrK98t1enwgFufjalXVWj_CiBMAG4QwS4PO5F7Fp8pdrYKQUiVM/s800/VR-1005227-goats+014.jpg" /></a><br /><br />She's fairly strong, so the the bench is taking a bit of a beating.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidud2SvCEZo6-taLxuavTOp5TAIsT3j6nrLiJAdqgIQR7G4FhwZgZtQdcbzb6dUZVito0sdIx3j26AOzgswWt3fqg__kHSbNPfhfarvQ6HShOeylAKtUK5i9oNzfDEa4ktspr9jhK22Xs/s1600/VR-1005227-goats+015.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidud2SvCEZo6-taLxuavTOp5TAIsT3j6nrLiJAdqgIQR7G4FhwZgZtQdcbzb6dUZVito0sdIx3j26AOzgswWt3fqg__kHSbNPfhfarvQ6HShOeylAKtUK5i9oNzfDEa4ktspr9jhK22Xs/s800/VR-1005227-goats+015.jpg" /></a><br /><br />She's knocked it over before doing this.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeSMDxHkUwcDx34eGbmvhxjUGpI-ThLgeYhkkFPE_3MtR6mlCPTYwLieByheQa5fJhWw41DxIy3FKiwThe9p7ma9azBRISvHxomLNpL8-He8vROh1a6rsAWxo4q5gomhLsuo9dBzhFH40/s1600/VR-1005227-goats+017.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeSMDxHkUwcDx34eGbmvhxjUGpI-ThLgeYhkkFPE_3MtR6mlCPTYwLieByheQa5fJhWw41DxIy3FKiwThe9p7ma9azBRISvHxomLNpL8-He8vROh1a6rsAWxo4q5gomhLsuo9dBzhFH40/s800/VR-1005227-goats+017.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Unfortunately, we usually give her positive reinforcement by petting her when she does it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCfi8Qn0AupM4VymVNn4Nu7TJWxqGQOHAG7z9y_kJwZaeQKJUUO3AqNb39Ha8a4uUnmFR9rXU1gEpfTdwmvDKESlbObM_FIR6Zgjj8K_j5-UTkVotsvuSXCb9Yp2gbU-HW17AtnMkWM9k/s1600/VR-1005227-goats+018.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCfi8Qn0AupM4VymVNn4Nu7TJWxqGQOHAG7z9y_kJwZaeQKJUUO3AqNb39Ha8a4uUnmFR9rXU1gEpfTdwmvDKESlbObM_FIR6Zgjj8K_j5-UTkVotsvuSXCb9Yp2gbU-HW17AtnMkWM9k/s800/VR-1005227-goats+018.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Come to think of it...she's right. She does get petted when she rubs her head on the bench if we're around.<br /><br />Smart goat...<br /><br />The people...not so smart...<br /><br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-30694671937280942192010-05-26T08:17:00.001-04:002010-05-26T09:12:18.557-04:00The Vultures HoverOur house guest called yesterday as she was pulling out of the driveway to say that vultures were swooping one of the goats in the upper pasture. I ran out to see, and found them lined up on the fence across the street.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgleklTDiSMemUKuxo1xmqX0WypGBu8lHX0FwTkLTXpsY_Ve4uSq2yYc68niu1adzDuVrGSx2JiuhBtFMXP1_3KJG4gLl_kJsRIF5dunXcFoU321mg7Poy1fomE1ICrXsZPDaKAAq_vRCE/s1600/VR-100525-vultures+004.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgleklTDiSMemUKuxo1xmqX0WypGBu8lHX0FwTkLTXpsY_Ve4uSq2yYc68niu1adzDuVrGSx2JiuhBtFMXP1_3KJG4gLl_kJsRIF5dunXcFoU321mg7Poy1fomE1ICrXsZPDaKAAq_vRCE/s800/VR-100525-vultures+004.jpg" /></a> <br /><br />It's hard not to think of the word ominous when you see a vulture, isn't it? I finally remembered that our neighbor had told us that someone hit a deer in front of our house the other day, then came back with a gun to finish it off. The carcass was hidden behind the neighbor's fence where they were sitting. My approach startled them and they flew off to line up on the neighbor's roof.<br /><br />Now this is a sight you don't want to see at your own home or nearby...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUVb8SW50Lz997S48fOkO5upz-1eD4lc8JeWsL-Qv7HB7VAKUCTY9hWeqIxWCGLUBz6ydx6LuI5rbtFqeG5dOW-TfpBzNuSfTGzRNSJogYuPuaR5tcOGW5pTBag7bnMLmdgieTctMz7a8/s1600/VR-100525-vultures+005.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUVb8SW50Lz997S48fOkO5upz-1eD4lc8JeWsL-Qv7HB7VAKUCTY9hWeqIxWCGLUBz6ydx6LuI5rbtFqeG5dOW-TfpBzNuSfTGzRNSJogYuPuaR5tcOGW5pTBag7bnMLmdgieTctMz7a8/s800/VR-100525-vultures+005.jpg" /></a> <br /><br />They're still hanging around today. They've been swooping our deck, and lining the fence again.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgesRPvd_tSWkKSnwA3Xkwe_p-zpxh62QnmrksJKGHNrVCrK6YmF94BZ0EvysVJHNHDqHfZwd1yiqIOBjujYDDhyphenhyphenTFWl7yfxNPikf0W9A4LK5ORV-g-hLoxybvqXPP4nZn8wf4bQ4PJp_I/s1600/VR-100525-vultures+010.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgesRPvd_tSWkKSnwA3Xkwe_p-zpxh62QnmrksJKGHNrVCrK6YmF94BZ0EvysVJHNHDqHfZwd1yiqIOBjujYDDhyphenhyphenTFWl7yfxNPikf0W9A4LK5ORV-g-hLoxybvqXPP4nZn8wf4bQ4PJp_I/s800/VR-100525-vultures+010.jpg" /></a> <br /><div style="CLEAR: both"> </div><div style="CLEAR: both"><br />There must be something in our genes that tells us to be disturbed by this sight...</div><div style="CLEAR: both"> </div><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-24714255752687607882010-05-23T22:13:00.002-04:002010-05-24T19:40:15.667-04:00Fine Vines for GoatsOur two goats have an insatiable appetite for vines, and we have a plentiful supply. Well, I use the word 'we' loosely. In this picture, I'm afraid the muscadine vine Emma is enjoying actually belongs to our neighbor. I'm sure they wouldn't mind, though.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO256Kidgqox-xE7zsYhyphenhyphenDTGl6XRZpH_l1FbBrn7zJ0WDGyYsRMsYRpYZhOUzyW1iDXw0o77G3X6h46e5B4jpf0Ug3xSdm2WFjIZG77k0LvKjUBGKssRQHFTehskL41O8pp__IFA5KxMY/s1600/VR-100516-pond+etc+042.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO256Kidgqox-xE7zsYhyphenhyphenDTGl6XRZpH_l1FbBrn7zJ0WDGyYsRMsYRpYZhOUzyW1iDXw0o77G3X6h46e5B4jpf0Ug3xSdm2WFjIZG77k0LvKjUBGKssRQHFTehskL41O8pp__IFA5KxMY/s800/VR-100516-pond+etc+042.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Arlene also enjoys our own vines down by the pond.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYlgNbIUdNEUK4cnVYsC25e-NU1yYjrOJkWxUC5PEwQp4kYWgG6Gk3UBQwBo44dU9PnCgoIXE9YqLEBiQiPT3_IFzmplOGXLFts-_suN-ZMVU53vRYBnVKvzFaAqRDq-h0mb6dYEPK70/s1600/VR-100516-pond+etc+034.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYlgNbIUdNEUK4cnVYsC25e-NU1yYjrOJkWxUC5PEwQp4kYWgG6Gk3UBQwBo44dU9PnCgoIXE9YqLEBiQiPT3_IFzmplOGXLFts-_suN-ZMVU53vRYBnVKvzFaAqRDq-h0mb6dYEPK70/s800/VR-100516-pond+etc+034.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Sometimes she's joined by a little white cat, who tends to prefer grasses....and field mice.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibMhR3mYxFFax3WQ9T88ZE7cDFqm8jk_AUL9WXi8B02F8kNchiuhRIsnapJ7Pei6pz9gZLkRguoLvSizKtOoeZiocIIH6BKqT7lKfeWLiqy_SfNGlGNPA7-Rt13Nb21TNxqdVUv6teqm4/s1600/VR-100516-pond+etc+067.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibMhR3mYxFFax3WQ9T88ZE7cDFqm8jk_AUL9WXi8B02F8kNchiuhRIsnapJ7Pei6pz9gZLkRguoLvSizKtOoeZiocIIH6BKqT7lKfeWLiqy_SfNGlGNPA7-Rt13Nb21TNxqdVUv6teqm4/s800/VR-100516-pond+etc+067.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />When the goats get tired of getting their own vines, they walk over to the trees, and look longingly up at the vines, then over at my husband. They have him trained well. He comes immediately to their aid. They help him select the best of the vines, usually by doing a little taste-testing while he holds it down for them, and then he pulls the selection of the evening down.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-20XxJOdPWYs6SlVIEPQlypLrN1fLOiwuvEYjQIF1IVuEKGDxOafeLlNfmABM9z9DCFqadinS5R-GV-wzDa9uKNkbWPhhyphenhyphenhAmOSZUACfKaUAhVxiFAhOUy6_9fH5IVtIWKuYJK7DCXOs/s1600/VR-100516-pond+etc+083.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-20XxJOdPWYs6SlVIEPQlypLrN1fLOiwuvEYjQIF1IVuEKGDxOafeLlNfmABM9z9DCFqadinS5R-GV-wzDa9uKNkbWPhhyphenhyphenhAmOSZUACfKaUAhVxiFAhOUy6_9fH5IVtIWKuYJK7DCXOs/s800/VR-100516-pond+etc+083.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><p>Yes, they're completely and udderly spoiled. (Sorry, sorry, I tried to make myself not go with the bad pun, but it was just impossible.) </p><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-26267600269512243412010-05-23T22:00:00.001-04:002010-05-23T22:09:02.916-04:00Visited By a ButterflyMy husband and I were sitting outside this evening, and a butterfly landed on his hand. It stayed there, and even let him wave his hand around. It stayed so long that I finally ran in to get the camera.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rcgGhI2burjZXxbi8DEy2wTrd_4zzyzBumSygOFMIRN_Q64mQSQtpGBf99gGWtb7wnpJGMJmp4OkNwiMD6zQWsBBZRJL7CuVNOS3Wm3kvbH1V0mClnUMFFxUCM-xpthtjovN54Vmz0Q/s1600/VR-100523-butterfly+002.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rcgGhI2burjZXxbi8DEy2wTrd_4zzyzBumSygOFMIRN_Q64mQSQtpGBf99gGWtb7wnpJGMJmp4OkNwiMD6zQWsBBZRJL7CuVNOS3Wm3kvbH1V0mClnUMFFxUCM-xpthtjovN54Vmz0Q/s800/VR-100523-butterfly+002.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I didn't get a good picture, and am not sure what kind it was. We imagined that if we looked it up, the description might say "remarkably friendly butterfly." It finally flew off, but then came back and landed on his foot.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6tQydX9vNi6agLCimLMM2l9d2Cnp5JU7xmBmdMNostWiNtX6pNnPni-qWQQihlEA4OIRbO0HUNcvj7Ul9M8Jtrn7Sim01DcZYSOKWXkxRdAWJcELtHNydkI9yLyBuZwPKnRcedv-wN6c/s1600/VR-100523-butterfly+077.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6tQydX9vNi6agLCimLMM2l9d2Cnp5JU7xmBmdMNostWiNtX6pNnPni-qWQQihlEA4OIRbO0HUNcvj7Ul9M8Jtrn7Sim01DcZYSOKWXkxRdAWJcELtHNydkI9yLyBuZwPKnRcedv-wN6c/s800/VR-100523-butterfly+077.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Again I didn't get a good picture. So it was a friendly butterfly but not photogenic...because of course it must be the butterfly's fault if I didn't get a good picture. <br /><br />It wasn't a Gulf fritillary butterfly, but the passionflower vines are blooming down by the pond, so we should be seeing those soon.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjleFwgJAX5j8koCYoJado0FA6RKu6uOXaj2_ggtFR7EZSyb1cFiQxeF7yxDQ4XnQacNHDTgk5QNhIUCqJ99YSQbvJCX2qyoG4Ih2ZFR46KrqJ8WeQgi-dkW8Q7rhM8KgBomhK4nfCK7rQ/s1600/VR-100516-pond+etc+038.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjleFwgJAX5j8koCYoJado0FA6RKu6uOXaj2_ggtFR7EZSyb1cFiQxeF7yxDQ4XnQacNHDTgk5QNhIUCqJ99YSQbvJCX2qyoG4Ih2ZFR46KrqJ8WeQgi-dkW8Q7rhM8KgBomhK4nfCK7rQ/s800/VR-100516-pond+etc+038.jpg" /></a><br /><br />We should also see whatever kind of butterfly this little fellow is going to produce. (I'd look it up but I'm too lazy today.)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzASj-QKeIIcvydI8kJjaN53yrr0tOy_2iNx1nCV4YQKCSeoVnb22fsbGUkL5Wf62NyGSiYi1hfHBSoY50s9YS39But68H8_guVJX9HwxGHsujyRAgN4zegnVnCIC3PECkz4qwcC1by30/s1600/VR-100516-pond+etc+063.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzASj-QKeIIcvydI8kJjaN53yrr0tOy_2iNx1nCV4YQKCSeoVnb22fsbGUkL5Wf62NyGSiYi1hfHBSoY50s9YS39But68H8_guVJX9HwxGHsujyRAgN4zegnVnCIC3PECkz4qwcC1by30/s800/VR-100516-pond+etc+063.jpg" /></a><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"> </div><div style="CLEAR: both"> </div><div style="CLEAR: both">I'm hoping for a good butterfly year...</div><div style="CLEAR: both"> </div><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-15185209188545115462010-05-16T14:23:00.004-04:002010-05-16T22:15:45.206-04:00Black Swallowtail Butterfly HatchesWe planted two bronze fennel plants in our front flower bed last year, and this year we've got gorgeous black swallowtail caterpillars all over it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEnXbZQEyn1npTfM1Y6cIL0bvkhxDeTIoTtceloNTLD40nPGYd5SKQUeM182lkVW0lZpHZAxrMCIYAEN5C1fBzI4gcYfRO-z6xRuTknJXMLFP1aoZm7cghkt9iwa1JvBl1AyWATDQoS9A/s1600/VR-100516-butterflies+021.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEnXbZQEyn1npTfM1Y6cIL0bvkhxDeTIoTtceloNTLD40nPGYd5SKQUeM182lkVW0lZpHZAxrMCIYAEN5C1fBzI4gcYfRO-z6xRuTknJXMLFP1aoZm7cghkt9iwa1JvBl1AyWATDQoS9A/s800/VR-100516-butterflies+021.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Some of them have turned into chrysalis (if I have that term right).<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ7wjnrxibBNHe-Gy8qvnKzBRL0hXLZkohLb0AoASXB-1d2AYM-3E7-NCuPE2_eTTSh49fTmkvu47Jv2Zy3xLHuD4wwmYcDC-fZgBBm_uy5oRYxbrICeUSKpz3fI8bhAaBS_voj7bKuFY/s1600/VR-100516-butterflies+028.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ7wjnrxibBNHe-Gy8qvnKzBRL0hXLZkohLb0AoASXB-1d2AYM-3E7-NCuPE2_eTTSh49fTmkvu47Jv2Zy3xLHuD4wwmYcDC-fZgBBm_uy5oRYxbrICeUSKpz3fI8bhAaBS_voj7bKuFY/s800/VR-100516-butterflies+028.jpg" /></a><br /><br />And today we're watching one in the process of turning into a butterfly.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlCv-sodWZMxIwsHdJji7aKWg3-_2ELR-oLs1EnfvSUyk1UnTyql68hT7D_rDyynMTAIlIep121E3cru6dEjc_sJKL_6qFq8zK9MG-epzNukmorCGVn0ocj90KuzDCRqy0kKk4v1Zv8iY/s1600/VR-100516-butterflies+004.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlCv-sodWZMxIwsHdJji7aKWg3-_2ELR-oLs1EnfvSUyk1UnTyql68hT7D_rDyynMTAIlIep121E3cru6dEjc_sJKL_6qFq8zK9MG-epzNukmorCGVn0ocj90KuzDCRqy0kKk4v1Zv8iY/s800/VR-100516-butterflies+004.jpg" /></a><br /><br />They've eaten part of the plant, but that's perfectly fine.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3TeKVV5zUp3HRdz-JPG3-5xD9nR98BS_OX25Djvaw0G4ueOrWQzgqK_kWe5OOXV5XNDLD0EnanmFBtHeciV5yYFRzZgN0ZdZDBkdws1xUGqn0cwSDyHWe_wFv-0c-yROujTncEylwRQo/s1600/VR-100516-butterflies+025.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3TeKVV5zUp3HRdz-JPG3-5xD9nR98BS_OX25Djvaw0G4ueOrWQzgqK_kWe5OOXV5XNDLD0EnanmFBtHeciV5yYFRzZgN0ZdZDBkdws1xUGqn0cwSDyHWe_wFv-0c-yROujTncEylwRQo/s800/VR-100516-butterflies+025.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I put the plants in the wrong place, actually. I didn't realize that they're supposed to grow four feet tall, so I put them in the front of the bed, since they were really small when I bought them. Fortunately (?), they only got to be two feet tall, probably because of the heavy clay (construction backfill) in that bed. I've been working on amending it, but it's slow going.<br /><br />I planted three more fennel plants today!<br /><br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-42068946197201064872010-05-09T19:32:00.001-04:002010-05-09T19:46:58.820-04:00Happy GoatsOur two goats have really been enjoying the gorgeous spring weather we've been having for the last few weeks. They romp and play, rearing up in the air and then head-butting each other with what seems to us to be great force. They have so much energy, which really pleases us because they were infected with parasites when they came to us last year, and we've obviously gotten them through that.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOcAtK9yGujwiUJia9pFfHeZwvyxg6LDofO3sJ3_RyeIQwOeTUIkGO8w0kTVV9yzwHnvULQmMfKYMS_pmC_5y8QE1Xl1fJ3ADZfMlfK92AU7XK83Gp9qfA1HxJk11y8mPZNTpIy-o5xMM/s1600/VR-100414-goats-cats-ducks+076.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOcAtK9yGujwiUJia9pFfHeZwvyxg6LDofO3sJ3_RyeIQwOeTUIkGO8w0kTVV9yzwHnvULQmMfKYMS_pmC_5y8QE1Xl1fJ3ADZfMlfK92AU7XK83Gp9qfA1HxJk11y8mPZNTpIy-o5xMM/s800/VR-100414-goats-cats-ducks+076.jpg" /></a><br /><br />It's so much fun to sit down by the pond and watch them play. It's interesting that goats play...but ducks don't, at least as far as I can tell. Ducks are very focused on food. Today their cracked corn bin was empty, and they followed my husband up to the house, and went into the garage looking for it. They've found it before in there, and tore open the bag, which is why we don't keep it there any more. Duck poop is not something I want in my garage.<br /><br />Back to the goats, though....I love how their long, floppy ears curl when they're bouncing around.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYYX0ji_IKWuxvAuKrLI9oHwYIxu3oJNDdL3V0yP3qhUKSDO0b33OVX5ZuCk5aYldb_XNt8Kns7fE-WgAVmK-SWl4H7K2heeXOIj4LKF1E9SllDuWzvA-yrn2QhdhM0c4FiizP8pc4JPk/s1600/VR-100414-goats-cats-ducks+085.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYYX0ji_IKWuxvAuKrLI9oHwYIxu3oJNDdL3V0yP3qhUKSDO0b33OVX5ZuCk5aYldb_XNt8Kns7fE-WgAVmK-SWl4H7K2heeXOIj4LKF1E9SllDuWzvA-yrn2QhdhM0c4FiizP8pc4JPk/s800/VR-100414-goats-cats-ducks+085.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I can't imagine what it would feel like to have one of them head-butt you. They're very careful not to do that to us, even when they're pounding past us running after each other. The cats are almost at their feet sometimes when the goats are playing like that, and I worry about them accidentally getting run over, but so far they always just miss them.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghVHd_gire7U2bOdCCUqI4kxHdPaO_jj0_ZvuFMoct4-jwpC-u2ixHK94F_mpT_Gx_uh2RiU_fT4X_B7I2gN4H4SaJqA3xuorr21kNidplEO9khgnCfYTLZ8Ug7IaD7iWZfhZKe6Xsj4E/s1600/VR-100414-goats-cats-ducks+095.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghVHd_gire7U2bOdCCUqI4kxHdPaO_jj0_ZvuFMoct4-jwpC-u2ixHK94F_mpT_Gx_uh2RiU_fT4X_B7I2gN4H4SaJqA3xuorr21kNidplEO9khgnCfYTLZ8Ug7IaD7iWZfhZKe6Xsj4E/s800/VR-100414-goats-cats-ducks+095.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Funny how relaxing it is to see another species just enjoying life...<br /><br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-72107511636813954432010-05-09T09:24:00.002-04:002010-05-09T09:34:34.845-04:00The Geese Stop ByLike last year, we're starting to see more Canadian geese at the pond. Yesterday fourteen of them turned up. We've had two pairs that have been dropping by off and on for the past month, but this is a sudden escalation. You can see the goats are a little disturbed about it. For the most part, it's 'live and let live' around here, but the geese must have been standing somewhere the goats wanted to be, so they forced the issue a little...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDkdl5ZvIExxT0oLuHnWqcUNOuda5r32YQIAtO4vJF8_pmoTp2TMX5KM_B8ovq8Gbznr4rJXm5hUnGxJS9Aww8FgiGebbhPYMgBYTR1O47D7Zg1W-BSUJpSku1wiYwjXTbOq_GOn_t8qI/s1600/VR-100509-pondside+007.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDkdl5ZvIExxT0oLuHnWqcUNOuda5r32YQIAtO4vJF8_pmoTp2TMX5KM_B8ovq8Gbznr4rJXm5hUnGxJS9Aww8FgiGebbhPYMgBYTR1O47D7Zg1W-BSUJpSku1wiYwjXTbOq_GOn_t8qI/s800/VR-100509-pondside+007.jpg" /></a><br /><br />...and the geese went into the water. They're beautiful to have around, but I have to say that they certainly are messy. We learned our lesson last year and don't feed them now, so they don't visit as often, and our pastures are less crowded with goose poop.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwnHess0jeEU3pl64ohqpmH4rx1M0R00a7NaqfmfNCJg8M9PeOvN3spodGFf31yTHEl6n52N45uYh989lQpdRwwZCpWAOPV0lpm9paoIwxyT6IwKr1nRr7YZ70M8nWHqHUCFiFH90v8k/s1600/VR-100509-pondside+008.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwnHess0jeEU3pl64ohqpmH4rx1M0R00a7NaqfmfNCJg8M9PeOvN3spodGFf31yTHEl6n52N45uYh989lQpdRwwZCpWAOPV0lpm9paoIwxyT6IwKr1nRr7YZ70M8nWHqHUCFiFH90v8k/s800/VR-100509-pondside+008.jpg" /></a><br /><br />It was a beautiful evening. My husband fished for a bit, and I sat by the pond reading. Then we just watched the pond, soaking in the cool evening breeze after a 90's day, and felt very lucky.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0bR6IuREY0Jm1GpUSDhRtfbdeaDyAVGA6c4bx2en9D5ugXU2EnC4LAnnzP59BMoG-exZFz-TRSmIlPjp7X8aLrQuxOZSMeEQwF_dxm_l9sYiZDQhONY4EjnL92M0XfxOlpKq8aZ0ZT08/s1600/VR-100509-pondside+009.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0bR6IuREY0Jm1GpUSDhRtfbdeaDyAVGA6c4bx2en9D5ugXU2EnC4LAnnzP59BMoG-exZFz-TRSmIlPjp7X8aLrQuxOZSMeEQwF_dxm_l9sYiZDQhONY4EjnL92M0XfxOlpKq8aZ0ZT08/s800/VR-100509-pondside+009.jpg" /></a><br /><br />May you all have many peaceful, happy evenings...<br /><br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-29386122162671052072010-05-01T19:06:00.001-04:002010-05-01T19:28:33.555-04:00A Typical EveningI was just finishing up making a vegan black bean chili when my husband called me to come help him deal with a persistent large turtle in the front yard. I say it's persistent because this is the second time we've had to take it back down to the pond. It's probably cursing us in turtle language, because I'm sure it thinks it's going somewhere (probably to lay eggs), but it keeps heading for the road. It got caught in the fence last time trying to get to the road.<br /><br />I turned off the burner, grabbed some gardening gloves, picked it up and carried it down to the pond to release it.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYP62QA_MK05Iab0ef1vjIKfK24NGAiqvewLjfal4u43_upv84gkwUDb3_u1-kT7QkZitGxFHkSCyhXdjfW068hwsH9pbqKIqt-d5jXRuUOF0CyqlcKWQB3-JhUQtz8SvorQZ3N3GhuBM/s1600/VR-100427-pond+025.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYP62QA_MK05Iab0ef1vjIKfK24NGAiqvewLjfal4u43_upv84gkwUDb3_u1-kT7QkZitGxFHkSCyhXdjfW068hwsH9pbqKIqt-d5jXRuUOF0CyqlcKWQB3-JhUQtz8SvorQZ3N3GhuBM/s800/VR-100427-pond+025.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Emma-the-goat followed me closely and stood on the shore with her head down toward the turtle to watch it swim away. Big mistake. While she was distracted, Arlene head-butted her from behind, nearly pushing both of us into the water.<br /><br />As I caught my balance, I heard loud quacking, and saw Corky, the huge Muscovy duck in the picture below, attacking T.O., one of our two small mallard females. We have no idea why, but he's been brutalizing T.O. and P.J., the two females, recently. He almost drowned P.J. last night, and it appeared to be deliberate. (I know that's ascribing a lot of motivation to a duck, but what he's been doing is beyond the normal rough mating. He really does seem to be trying to kill her.)<br /><br />I picked up a stick and started waving it to scare him off. As he ran for the water, G3, the male mallard with Corky below, flew over to take up the attack on T.O. I scared him off too. Have I mentioned recently how glad I am our neighbors can't see into our back yard? <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5UNhYv1CatgmKbZcsi7RISJUri7rTXbHdNus1i-IAqVTHM6uVRx1RhEB82FmW-01CYolD_FW0fgNdeUDbmZP8SCNTxKozMJT3uEMQtdo5dGz66-G-n4ihTziVZQGINW1cQD7lvLbP7Rc/s1600/VR-100427-pond+009.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5UNhYv1CatgmKbZcsi7RISJUri7rTXbHdNus1i-IAqVTHM6uVRx1RhEB82FmW-01CYolD_FW0fgNdeUDbmZP8SCNTxKozMJT3uEMQtdo5dGz66-G-n4ihTziVZQGINW1cQD7lvLbP7Rc/s800/VR-100427-pond+009.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I'd love to know why the three males, abetted by the older female Mallard, are forcing the two smaller females out. When they're not attacking them, they're ostracizing them. As a result, T.O. and P.J. spend a lot of time together. In the picture below, they got separated, and ran up to touch beaks before going off together. It was touching, especially considering what they've been going through.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Hjzfl_KZ6yqfA_IayC-p3XquJotsp_IlIbooE8ef2ATTsAypkLV6oWPIw85JcWoro0rgZNJax3lNovOAKY_lneJ9n4KkzKaUQMPVF1XspUWdLkvuAGDqZBnDAwXFjssQbT_hzRdQxjg/s1600/VR-100414-goats-cats-ducks+102.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Hjzfl_KZ6yqfA_IayC-p3XquJotsp_IlIbooE8ef2ATTsAypkLV6oWPIw85JcWoro0rgZNJax3lNovOAKY_lneJ9n4KkzKaUQMPVF1XspUWdLkvuAGDqZBnDAwXFjssQbT_hzRdQxjg/s800/VR-100414-goats-cats-ducks+102.jpg" /></a><br /><br />P.J. stands for 'Plain Jane,' and T.O......well, that stands for 'That One,' because we never can remember what we had decided to call her. What does G3 stand for? Gus III...because we moved here with a cat named Gus, and then got a horse named Gus, so my husband insisted on naming a duck Gus too. He actually wanted to name all eight ducks Gus, but I held the line there.<br /><br />Yes, we're weird.<br /><br />As I stood there worrying about the two females, I felt a tug at my glove, and looked down to find a goat gently pulling on it. She wanted to be petted, of course.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuk9ecGDxd6zfnXRTPliX822Y2SIQ1ADMfr0jGMgwxwts6xt1kQV1dQHcKrY9KtGmYI3B6nvB-Es5WcPCP_CVQVDr11jNA1YO8cc-imWlOb4H4glXVThZFSP8353LS9c83tGk70sW0fSM/s1600/VR-100430-goats+%26+burned+forest+020.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuk9ecGDxd6zfnXRTPliX822Y2SIQ1ADMfr0jGMgwxwts6xt1kQV1dQHcKrY9KtGmYI3B6nvB-Es5WcPCP_CVQVDr11jNA1YO8cc-imWlOb4H4glXVThZFSP8353LS9c83tGk70sW0fSM/s800/VR-100430-goats+%26+burned+forest+020.jpg" /></a><br /><br />I obliged her, then trudged back up to the house to put the stew in the fridge. It's a hectic pace we set here in WannaBe Land...<br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-22039916976521746132010-05-01T17:35:00.000-04:002010-05-01T19:39:44.937-04:00Goats Have PersonalityI know most people probably think that goats don't have personalities, or at least not individual personalities, but that couldn't be more wrong.<br /><br />For example, I know exactly what this look from Arlene means.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUEPRaCxUCShqCP3Km10MuuWYpxEiOvnYgiU4RxxDY3bHcvEYvBae7Bbfjm6ioq-W5M9Tt3knmsefT9lJci43uKj-l_by9CyMqSuf_K-o5H9mFJMFDp94dfTrguxRRa0yq6beKawD4RWg/s1600/VR-100430-goats+%26+burned+forest+003.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUEPRaCxUCShqCP3Km10MuuWYpxEiOvnYgiU4RxxDY3bHcvEYvBae7Bbfjm6ioq-W5M9Tt3knmsefT9lJci43uKj-l_by9CyMqSuf_K-o5H9mFJMFDp94dfTrguxRRa0yq6beKawD4RWg/s800/VR-100430-goats+%26+burned+forest+003.jpg" /></a><br /><br />It means she wants my husband to pull some of the muscadine grape vine down off the tree for her to eat. She'll go look at the vine, or the branch she wants to eat, and then turn and look pleadingly at my husband. Of course, he gives it to her. He can't resist The Look.<br /><br />This next look, however, means 'pet me.' She loves having her head and ears rubbed, and will beg for it like a dog does. She's also amazingly gentle with us considering the power she's got in her body and horns. When she and Emma play by butting heads, we can hear the thud across the pasture. They must have incredibly thick skulls.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAs0_Qehmbh5nOEq-yvi9qrnnrYPXujzrjwAR1mPRfV6Zdc5IkP-c6k5CsBtY0w96_M5RGkjovA39eEW6olIaTt3xqIURyLIaLPmpaLej89yHtPNTO-XBCsfNmMzhFdPZ6Fr6MEH3M2U/s1600/VR-100430-goats+%26+burned+forest+027.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAs0_Qehmbh5nOEq-yvi9qrnnrYPXujzrjwAR1mPRfV6Zdc5IkP-c6k5CsBtY0w96_M5RGkjovA39eEW6olIaTt3xqIURyLIaLPmpaLej89yHtPNTO-XBCsfNmMzhFdPZ6Fr6MEH3M2U/s800/VR-100430-goats+%26+burned+forest+027.jpg" /></a><br /><br />This look, of course, means 'Put down the camera and pet me -- NOW.'<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtgwNLP4hZAN4f5QDmCxi3Esi5X4OISCP-juh085g8DtS0IE7PUOdAe6aUvneG_AKBfLKHgQoWrMVDomjELlPQfDqY-I7fyiuGQuu437LkodXeb3Gm5ncD0rxtYrlEnIiiMsktTdF_Obg/s1600/VR-100430-goats+%26+burned+forest+028.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtgwNLP4hZAN4f5QDmCxi3Esi5X4OISCP-juh085g8DtS0IE7PUOdAe6aUvneG_AKBfLKHgQoWrMVDomjELlPQfDqY-I7fyiuGQuu437LkodXeb3Gm5ncD0rxtYrlEnIiiMsktTdF_Obg/s800/VR-100430-goats+%26+burned+forest+028.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Back later...I've got goat petting duty...<br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" border="0" alt="Posted by Picasa" align="middle" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6797451446884860785.post-27388317982451312782010-04-17T17:36:00.001-04:002010-04-17T20:13:31.804-04:00Evening With a GoatWe've been trying to sit down by the pond in the evenings now that the weather is so beautiful. We're using those folding chairs that the goats smell dog on, so we constantly have goats nosing around us.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvakWLNwyB7YDYaqyrz5V10-1QODruIAwdrVTTTYYMhIzL_OSB_l5wz6m2FxNkn7RZo2m83PiFqBM2I8iCIcXFS_Jcuv3mdk0iws8qwOgyogDnB3W8xN0PwiLgo2Sq76GLjs6ZuRRfs7k/s1600/VR-100414-goats-cats-ducks+146.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvakWLNwyB7YDYaqyrz5V10-1QODruIAwdrVTTTYYMhIzL_OSB_l5wz6m2FxNkn7RZo2m83PiFqBM2I8iCIcXFS_Jcuv3mdk0iws8qwOgyogDnB3W8xN0PwiLgo2Sq76GLjs6ZuRRfs7k/s800/VR-100414-goats-cats-ducks+146.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Irving the cat likes to hang with us too. When he jumped up this time, he and Arlene the goat actually touched noses, but of course I missed that picture, so I got this one instead.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF99lLL8e-D7xAwNWslSGbMHZlY0Py5IsVzZfq2wlb7Ft1vP7k25hqQ8bVE0ElBVWIBkymhAwAjs_fhMYGuJqC42U-aJ82mLG0Vj2liYbQsNk0QBOGYGyv4T3rN4GqUi8zivMyAtP43QQ/s1600/VR-100414-goats-cats-ducks+153.jpg"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF99lLL8e-D7xAwNWslSGbMHZlY0Py5IsVzZfq2wlb7Ft1vP7k25hqQ8bVE0ElBVWIBkymhAwAjs_fhMYGuJqC42U-aJ82mLG0Vj2liYbQsNk0QBOGYGyv4T3rN4GqUi8zivMyAtP43QQ/s800/VR-100414-goats-cats-ducks+153.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />If you're wondering what Irving is staring at, of course it's the ducks.<br /><br />We're certainly a bizarre little family...<br /><br /><br /><div style="CLEAR: both"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Statchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07250469077915790964noreply@blogger.com1