PO. LAR. IS.
Polaris. What’s its other name?
This was our focus last night about this time as the four oldest grandsons and I snuggled into our sleeping bags atop the trampoline. The air was brisk, enough that protruding limbs were soon covered up by blankets or sleeping bags or clothing, but not bad enough that we were frozen by midnight.
No one complained about the cold. We only had to line sleeping Wyatt back up once as he’d turned sideways onto Jaxon. No one fell off. No one cried. No one wanted to go back into the house. No one saw the shooting stars but me. No one remembered POLARIS by morning either, but we’ve repeated it a few times for memory’s sake.
I’d say it was a success, barring the lack of computer access on my trampoline… but I know you guys, and you know my family comes first, so I knew it was all good when I ducked out of blogging and tried to remember all my Girl Scout astronomy lessons.
PO. LAR. IS.
The North Star.
It was a great place to start.
This summer is FULL of surprises!
I went to let my chickens out yesterday morning. There was a hen sitting in the corner, which was WEIRD. I was trying to get the kittens out of the coop… the little buggers have taken to it since I’ve locked them out of my studio. (My studio was beginning to STINK)
I moved a bit closer to the hen, as she rose, SOMETHING peeked out from underneath her.
Well, golly gee!
HOW IN THE HECK DID THAT HAPPEN?
Aside from technicalities… She’s obviously been setting on a nest out of the coop somewhere… somewhere SAFE from ornery dogs and inquisitive kittens. But, she’s a good momma, and brought them home to be safe. I quickly kicked the cats and other chickens out of the coop, gave them food and water, and headed to work. Later, Tess told me there are 11 (ELEVEN!) baby chicks, including two black ones.
I imagine the other hens may have had a hand in this as well, since there are a bit of differences in coloring… I imagine the black came from Spot’s daddy. Time will tell.
I never thought it’d be one of my Brown Leghorns to go broody, but she’s One Tough Mama and Very Protective.
They are still in the coop, but separated from the other chickens and safe from the kittens until they get a bit bigger and a bit faster and a bit wiser! Any tips or hints about chicks in a coop would be welcome…
Yes, the plan was to share photos of the mountain with you, but, once again, cuteness wins out.
I had a helper with that grape jelly today… and he can now accurately recount what it takes to make grape jelly. (although ‘pectin’ is kind of a tricky word) (and he wrote ‘Jaxon’ and ‘2017’ on the jars for me)
Wordless Wednesday will DEFINITELY be a mountain photo (and puzzle).
Yes, this post is a little late… we came home last night, ate supper, sat down, and whoosh! That was about all she wrote. I was in bed early, and couldn’t even come close to keeping my eyes open long enough to post last night!
I didn’t work near as hard as everyone else, but evidently it made me TIRED!
We gathered our mountain pasture, sorted the calves off of their mothers, built a small alleyway with portable panels, and vaccinated them. We don’t usually do it this way, but it’s an experiment. See, in a couple of weeks we will wean these calves… and it’s stressful. We’re hoping if we do it this way, the medicine will have time to kick in, and keep them from getting sick. We usually do give them a different brand of medicine when we wean, but like I said… it’s an experiment and we will see if this extra day of work gives a better result.
My job was simple. Sort off seven calves. Keep them in the pen until they’re ready to run them in the alley. Make sure they’re all our calves (nope, we had a couple of the neighbor’s in there). Make sure none are sick by looking for droopy ears, snotty noses, coughing, or bad feet (one was lame). Make sure they all have eartags (nope, three had lost theirs).
Do that over and over and over…
I’ll share some nice scenery the next few days… I do love riding on the mountain!