Monday, March 29, 2021
Yesterday, on our bike ride, I saw a small patch of daffodils, growing in the nearly wild spot, my bit of forest. They are the small flower head kind that make me think of the French name, jonquille, with deep yellow saucers and yolk-orange cups. It's always in the middle of spring that I remember that I do like spring. Fall is my favorite season, and spring always comes last in mind, but that's a pity. It's a pity that in the Fall, when I am in love with crunching leaves beneath my boots, and bringing home too many pumpkins, I cannot be bothered with planting bulbs for spring. I don't want to imagine there will ever be any season but the home season, the brisk weather, and calm evenings season, with warm colors, and softening light. When I saw those few jonquilles, I felt a sharp pang of regret. It's spring now, and I wish I had planted daffodils and grape hyacinth, freesia, ranunculus. I wish we had wisteria coming into bloom, and a trellis for my Cécile Brünner roses. I even admit that I regret buying too many pumpkins... no, maybe not that. Maybe, because I have confessed my contrition, next Spring little daffodils and some grape hyacinth will pop up in our garden, because this Fall I will have saved some room in my Autumn dazzled head for Spring, and will plant those bulbs.
And now for a Liberty report! And another admission, from me: Around October I noticed our dear old hen was doing poorly, and by December I was practically composing her eulogy in my head. She limped, walked in circles, her comb was pale, she even lost her balance and rolled over. I am one of those weak kneed farmers that has never actually culled a chicken, which I know can be a merciful thing. I spared Kamen, after the bobcat shredded her, which, thankfully, turned out to be the right choice. I gave Liberty affection, private space to eat, and extra helpings of treats. I lifted her to the roost, and I brought her in the house during inclement weather. And I kind of held my breath, knowing it could be any day. But, I was wrong, or maybe the doting helped. Because it's late March and she's walking fine, roosting, again, and practically spry for an ol' girl! The other night when all the hens came for evening treats, I saw Liberty already roosting, and knowing what an effort it takes for her to get up there, I decided to pamper her, some more, and I brought her snacks to her. She is, and always has been a favorite hen. Gosh, it's hard loving pets, and caring for them, knowing that sooner or later, we will lose them... and so, it's one of the delights of being a farmer to dote, and comfort, when I can.
About that bee... he, too, was looking sapped and poorly, when Cairo and I found him clinging to the balcony screen. I brushed some honey water where he could drink it, and the little guy lapped it all up, then rallied. And I got to make another Reel for Instagram, which I enjoy doing.
There is lots more to share, like a visit with Ruth, and progress with embroidery. I'll save for those another post, because we are out of milk and bread and cheese, and clean socks. Happy as I am to sit here and revel in all the prettiness, I suppose I should rally! Happy Monday, friends.