Second Spring

We're experiencing something of a second Spring here on the farm.
On the feast of St. Francis of Assisi, we awoke to excited summons issued to us all to come out to the barn...
In the lamplight a stumbling shape courted Honey's side...and there she was! A beautiful little heifer..."Mushka" is her nickname. Borrowing a page from "SARAH PLAIN AND TALL" the girls have christened her "Moonbeam". She needed a little initial help latching on...but all doubts as to her nursing abilities were abandoned upon my nestling the milking bucket beneath Honey's udders, and relieving her of a few pints of her swollen supply...as soon as the new little one sensed competition, she made swiftly for my elbow, nudging me aside so as to finish the job herself.

A week later the phone rang. A friend's friend had found a baby goat in the woods near Stillwater.
More like a pet dog, than a goat...we brought him on board in the hopes that in a few months, this little French Alpine will be able to breed our girls..."Barley Legs" has been met thus far with diffidence on the part of the resident troupe of dairy does...Honey, suspecting him of secret "dogness" has taken to pawing the ground and charging the partition whenever he pokes his darling little head through, curious about her and the calf. Maternal instincts, being sometimes necessary, other times somewhat monstrous...

The trees are dropping their leaves...the bees are going into hibernation. The new kittens in the barn are exploring nooks and crannies in the hay, and we're finding little nests in the stack of bales in the Northern corner of the barn, where the hens have made cozy corners for themselves. Every day at 3:30 the kitchen is kindled with orange light, that comes in through the windowpanes in search of my teapot. It settles on the honey jar and spoon, and little package of loose green tea and insuates things...
We're coming into the hallowed season of simply comforts. Half the potatoes are still to be unearthed from the field, and the stewing hens must still be dispatched...but in the meantime, there are inch thick pork chops to fuel us, and the antics of stumbly chumbly baby legs testing themselves in the pasture to cheer us...
I'm slowly finding my way back to pen and paper again...and the pasttime I call "thinking" is being dalleyed with once more...I'm soon to strike the balance again between pitchfork, pail, pot, and pen...so I'm hoping to post more again in coming days...
Stay tuned.