... a Farm Report~
Can you tell Ada is bleating to beat the band? Seems it is the time of year when our dear Lady Goats, Ada and Tasha, are looking for
romance. We've seen, and heard, the signs, before... long days of bleating, and when Tasha joins Ada in the cry, then we know it's a longing for some male companionship. I am sorry, dear Lady Goats. We haven't found any suitable suitors.
{Bird House & Barn now accepting interviews with handsome, fun-loving bucks, with family-minded intentions. Maybe next year... }
I expect to hear plenty from Tasha Tudor Goat and Ada Lovelace Goat through the day, and probably by tomorrow, they'll be over it.
The barn is really and truly a
barn, now that it's painted red. Geoff insisted that we should paint it "Barn Red," but at the hardware store Kathy said
that paint color would need many, many coats to get it right, and she led us to another section where we chose our own
Barn Red, which Behr calls "Forbidden Red." We kept this minor detail on the down low, knowing Geoff was certain that only genuine "Barn Red" would do. Everyone, we must keep this paint secret under wraps!
"Forbidden Red?"
Pshaw!
We painted our barn the truest, most genuine
Barn Red.
We keep pretending it's
autumn, here at the Bird House. Days are in the sixties, and at night, dip a bit cooler, still. We've had mornings so overcast and foggy we can almost imagine it's actually rained. Around town we've
looked for fall color, like the four red maples next to the
Taco Town. Janece captured some beautiful fall moments.
I watch our animals for clues, too. Seems a couple of the hens went for a last minute molt. Will they fluff up and feather out in time for a cold, wet winter? I am hoping for all of the above. Ada goat is the one I am really betting on, because her under coat is very wooly... we even felted her fleece! If she's starts to get more of that pale creamy fluff under her hair, then I will know we have a chance of enjoying some lovely winter weather.
They eat like winter is coming!
And not far from the goats, we find Little Debbie. All the other hens are on their side of the run, enjoying their dinner. And Little Debbie, the
former queen of the barn yard? She has most assuredly {and deservedly?} been dethroned. Small as she is {think fat pigeon,} she really did rule the roost, hen pecking and chasing all the other hens. It was a bit mean, and awfully silly. Staying top hen among the chickens that towered over her was a full time job, that she relished in earnest. But I warned her,
Little Debbie, be careful. Someday they'll realize they are four times your size, and then you won't be so high on the roost! But she was a chicken with conviction, and never gave her feathered sisters a break.
Well, no more. The tide has turned against Little Debbie, and it's not silly, or funny, or fair. Nine hens are chasing, pecking, harassing, and wearing out one wee little chickie. Poor dear. She earned it, true, but it's getting out of hand. There's talk of finding Little Debbie a cottage of her own.
Exile, for the former dictator, where she can live out her golden years reflecting on her spotted past, and hopefully find redemption.
Ada, you darling goof. I love you, so.
And you, too,
Tasha. Oh, these goaters of ours.
The barn was painted, and we chose paint for the Bird House, too. Of course, it may be another year before we can show you the
after pictures. Two stories of house painting. Big walls. Oh my. But before we paint our house, Geoff is making improvements to the deck that leaks into the living room. He tore out rotted wood, and built an extension to hang over the porch.
It's nearly complete, and the help from Paul made a nice difference. I love what it does for the look of the back of the house. The second story was a great expanse of siding, and the new little roof acts like eyebrows on a face... making a nice expression.
Except for a couple of flats of flowers I planted before Halloween, the garden is about as quiet as it was the last time I wrote about our
neglected garden.
We do have three carrots, though. Salad any one? One. Salad.
Small.
Let me wrap up this post, then I'll finish planting these Sweet William, and pansies. And honestly, how hard could it be to sow more carrots, add a row of spinach, and peas? I'll be so glad I did, come March.
You'd think we were in Maine, or Oregon. And seeing our wood stack, I must admit, gives me a comforting sense of
readiness.
Come winter! Fall, at least. We want your rain, and wind, your, puddles, and rivulets. Welcome, seasonal weather, long nights, and muddy spots. We are ready for campfire eves, friends in the kitchen, and wooly goats.
The light, this time of year, is soft, pink, golden. It shimmers on the leaves, and makes everything glow. It's lovely.