morning chores for lily and violet

Note: I am still working on a borrowed laptop and cannot upload images or access the thousands of images stored on my broken laptop. But I found some draft posts stored in blogger, and a few have images already in place, so I'm posting this one composed in December 2013. Greetings from Memory Lane.

~~~~~

 

We all have our little tasks to do in the morning.

Today it was raining lightly, so breakfast was served in the little goat barn for the younger does.

"Please don't make us eat in the rain. Rain makes us sad."

Lily of the Valley assesses the overall quality of the hay by doing the crucial face-test, while Violet takes the single-stem approach for a finely-tuned analysis:

I guess it passed the test!

There's something about listening to animals eat.  It's just pleasant, I don't know why.

And if one is used to the steady and rhythmic

munch.

munch.

munch.

of horses, the sound of goats, with their equally steady but more rapid

munch,munch,munch,munch,munch

is very smile-producing.

Really, goats in general are very smile-producing, as many of your comments have indicated.

I am so happy you are enjoying the goats  :)

But hark!  Violet suddenly stops munching, and is all alertness.

It is the morning school bus, which picks up a gaggle of young children at the corner, about 400 feet downslope from the goat barn.

One of Violet's tasks is to supervise the loading and departure of the bus every day.

(Except weekends, of course.  Everyone deserves time off.)

Here they come.

There they go.

My work here is done.

Got any peanuts in that pocket?

~~~~~

snow

Well, it was a storm, alright.

I took these snaps yesterday morning, when we had about six inches of snow. We got over a foot before the snow stopped last night.

During morning chores yesterday, Violet and her daughter Sambucus were invited out of the paddock to hunt and gather between the barn and the house, while I was to-ing and fro-ing, to-ing and fro-ing.

They had a grand time!

The hemlock branches were weighed down by snow, and both goats meandered over to help themselves to branch tips.

Did you know that goats have no upper teeth in the front of their mouths? The way goats break off a mouthful of something is to grab it and then snap their heads up, with their front bottom teeth acting as a cutting edge.

Sambucus demonstrates the grab:

And, with snow-laden branches, the secondary result of the snap:

Want to see it again?

You're up, Violet!

The grab:

And the snap!

This is the face of a very happy goat:

~~~~~

let the bind-off begin

Yesterday I tried to capture the floppy-bushel-basket-ness of the current hap.

Here it is, slumped in a heap:

And here it is being held up by the chair:

And this is all I can see while I'm knitting:

Well, that's not *all* I can see. I can also see this:

Because if there is a goat nearby when I sit in this chair in the barn paddock, she or he will climb up on the rock I use as a footrest, to see what I'm up to. And when Violet saw this huge sack, she thought it might be full of carrot pennies and peanuts.

I told her, Sorry, but no. 

There will be peanuts after evening chores, as usual.

"I know you're busy, don't interrupt what you're doing with those sticks.
I'll just have a little look, shall I?"

I suppose it never hurts to check.

The hap is ready to bind off, with 624 stitches on the last few rows. Binding off may take a while, but I'm looking forward to blocking this and seeing it all clean and tidy and stretched out evenly. I hope I like it. If not, I'll have to knit another one. This is a really nice project for nor'easter/insomniac/stop-worrying knitting, whether for 20 minutes or for 4 hours at a stretch. Toward the end I was going slowly to make it last. But now: starting the bind-off.

~~~~~

thankful thursday

It was cold enough to keep the black flies at bay for a couple of hours this afternoon.

It was also sunny enough to be very pleasant indeed.

A perfect opportunity to do Daily Markmaking outdoors!

I had help.

I had an audience.

I had a critic.

I had a deep blue sky and bright clouds and buds on thousands of branches.

 Buds become leaves in the blink of an eye,

and soon I'll be looking up into a closed canopy of many greens.

What better time to sketch branches of the massive red oak I admire every day?

I focused on a small section of the tree,

and used one watercolor pencil and one waterbrush.

The result: Daily Markmaking 858

An hour like this is such a gift.

~~~~~

friday

cranberry

Today's snow was predicted to begin around noon, with less than an inch accumulation. So when I received problematic paperwork in this morning's mail requiring a couple of hours to sort out in person, I decided not to wait til Monday but to go immediately and take care of it so I wouldn't have it in the back of my mind all weekend. Less than an inch of snow would mean either light snow that wouldn't be bad driving, or heavy snow that would be easy to wait out before coming back home.

Well, the "noon" part was correct. But heavy snow was still falling 

when I got home at three and went out to check on the goats.

Violet on one of the narrow goat-paths.

If you click to embiggen you can see the path.

I know I've said this before: I'd rather have any amount of snow than a quarter-inch of ice. Chores are harder and take longer but they get done. We've got firewood, food, and - touch wood - we've got water.

And of course, daily markmaking.

I hope all is well in your varied and far-flung corners of the world.

Thanks for visiting and commenting on mine.

~~~~~

real snow

Sunday night looked like this:

Monday morning 3:30AM looked like this:

Heading out for morning chores on Monday...

 

...with my pocket loaded with carrot pennies.

A tarp "veranda," one of the extra shelters - there are always extras so scuffles won't lead to a goat being pushed out into bad weather - had collapsed under the weight of Sunday's snow, so I moved Violet and Sambucus up to join

the smaller group in the big barn paddock.

Here they are in the roundtop, happily tucking into the hay:

Here is the view from that roundtop.

All these images are a bit dark - the sun was never visible yesterday.

As usual, you can click to embiggen if you wish.

Put your boots on first.

After feeding and watering, I walked through all the paddocks,

dragging my feet to make a bit of a trail between all the shelters.

I save that chore for last because it's rather tiring and I am soaked with sweat by the time I'm done, and ready to head back to the house.

The goats don't really mind snow, but they do like it when I break trail for them.

Although I think Hazel, experiencing her first Real Snow, was looking for a place to attach a zipline in the barn so she could get to me and my pocket full of carrot pennies without wading through snow deeper than her belly.

(Don't worry, she got her carrots without any wading.)

By Monday afternoon the birdfeeders - which I had cleaned off first thing in the morning - were the scene of constant activity. The first flock of juncoes appeared, in a group of at least twenty. I always think of them as a sign that Winter is here.

This time, though, I really didn't need any extra signs.

I cleaned the feeders off again after evening chores.

~~~

At 4 AM this morning:

And out I go!

~~~~~

sunday snow

December is starting off rather dramatically. Snow began to fall at about 2:30 this afternoon, and is predicted to continue right through Monday and into Tuesday morning. I've moved extra hay to the barns, extra stove wood to the parlor, and filled buckets with water in case we lose power again.

Here we go.

Tomorrow is the day I discover all the things I forgot to do to prepare for Winter.

But before that happens, I just want to take a moment to say

"thank you very much" for card and magnets orders.

Violet says, "I don't really understand how our pictures turn into bales of hay,

 but I am ALL FOR IT!"

~~~~~

february snaps

It's February in New England.

Best to just take it as it comes.

~~~~~

sunday afternoon

It didn't rain.
The humidity fell.
The sky was blue.
There was an occasional breeze.

I literally could have wept with relief.

The goats were so pleased with the change in weather, three of them would not even come into the barn for their buckets.

For the first time in many weeks, I took a sketchbook outside. Dusted the latest muddy hoofprints off the lawn chair - because they were dry and I could dust them off! - and settled down in the south paddock to Draw August.

There was company.

Lots of company.

The silver goat is Fern, and she is leaning against my chair.

There was close interest in the artistic process.

There was distraction. 

(Iris is trying to untie my shoe because I wouldn't let her jump into the chair.)

There was oversight.

There was drama!

(Bashing heads. This is a mother and daughter. I make no further comment.)

 ~

And eventually, there was Day 19 of Drawing August,

which is also #231 of Daily Markmaking 2018.

I had to come in and flatten out my spine for a couple of hours,

but it's still clear and pleasant outside.

It will be a genuine pleasure to do evening chores tonight.

~~~~~