In a bit of poor planning, a robin has set up her nursery right by our front door. There was already a nest in the yew bush, but it was a bit rundown. We didn’t notice it was being rebuilt until the eggs showed up. Actually, we didn’t notice the eggs either. We noticed the robin exploding from the nest every time we used the door.
She sat for a few days, and we managed a couple of entries and exits without spooking her, but we haven’t seen her in a little while, and I think she might have given up on her nest.
The highlight of my week happened last Wednesday. I held a brand new baby gosling.
It was just a few seconds, but it was pretty special.
The gosling was outside at my work. His Mom was in the flowerbed above, but he couldn’t make the leap up the ledge. She just stood in the flowerbed and kept calling him, and he kept valiantly trying to leap more than 6 times his own height.
After observing–and (who am I kidding) talking to them–for a few minutes, I decided I would see if Mama would let me touch the baby. I walked over to the ledge, kept a close eye on Mama and made a quick grab. I set baby in the flowerbed, and he and Mama trotted up the hill.
No geese or geese-crazy women were harmed.
Although my geese craziness has reached a new level. I think coop construction just moved up the priority list. I need some birds back in my life.
What was the highlight of your week (or weekend)? Do you have any goslings in your neighbourhood?
It took about a dozen false starts, but a robin has finally managed to construct a nest.
The streamers of grass waving over the door track caught the building inspector’s attention. Matt gave her a boost so that she could check the construction up close.
The mud wasn’t dry, but the robin got a pass nonetheless.
Now she just needs to move in and start her family.
Is anyone constructing a new house where you are? Or do you have any birds sitting on nests? Who’s your building inspector?
I’m excited to share that I’m now a regular contributor to ThatMutt.com. This gives me an outlet to write about dog training, care and of course my favourite dude, Baxter. You can read all of my posts at ThatMutt here. My latest post went up on earlier this week. A slight variation is below.
“I’d help you put up those curtain rods, but I don’t have a drill.”
Uh-huh? What about no thumbs, no vertical reach and a tendency to spend most of your time asleep, dude?
“You think a paintbrush makes up for not giving me a drill? This pooch likes power tools, lady.”
“Oh, and you made fun of my thumbs and my height. You’re on your own for painting that mirror. This is what I think of your paintbrush.”
“Ahhhh… dreamland, where doggies have drills… and thumbs.”
With Baxter’s help (or perhaps despite it), the guest room is now done. The reveal is coming up next.
We hadn’t seen her for a day or two and then Baxter found a fresh coyote kill behind the barn.
All that’s left are the feathers. The distinctive turkey wings give away the identity of the victim.
I can’t really be upset. The coyotes are doing what they’re supposed to be doing. If Teri was doing what she was supposed to be doing, she would have stayed roosted in her tree–or with her flock instead of with us.
Matt has a thing for wild turkeys. So you can guess that this made his day.
For me, walking into the laundry room and seeing a turkey peering through the window was a bit disconcerting.
Teri showed up about two weeks ago. At first, we saw turkey tracks all around the house. Then we saw the turkey.
While turkeys are usually shy and private, Teri is social and curious.
She clucked around outside the kitchen window while I was making my breakfast the one morning. And then she walked around the house to pace in front of the dining room when I sat down to eat.
According to the footprints in the snow, she has even climbed right up to the kitchen window sill.
As I’m not inviting a wild bird in for breakfast, we’ve sprinkled some grain in the side flowerbed where she seems to spend most of her time.
Teri’s presence took a bit of getting used to.
Matt, Baxter and I each spooked her several times in the first few days after her arrival. Having a turkey erupt right in front of you and violently woosh-woosh-woosh her wings as she attempts to lift off and fly to the nearest tree is possibly even more disconcerting than having the same turkey attempt to help with the laundry.
She appears to spend her days doing laps around the house. We’ve gotten a bit accustomed to each other, and she doesn’t spook quite as much anymore. We’re also conscious to check where she is and try not to infringe on her personal space.
Baxter doesn’t have quite the same sensitivity and wants to get as close to the turkey as possible. There have been long staring sessions into the woods beside the house (where she sometimes retreats when we come outside) and lots of conversations about “no, you can’t follow the turkey tracks.”
I gotta say, there are moments when I ask, “Is this really my life?” Even though it’s sometimes disconcerting, I love living here.
Are you having a crazy winter where you are? We’ve been through El Niños before, but this year is something else.
Temperatures have mostly hovered right around zero or above. It took nearly half the winter before we had snow of any significance.
But it only lasted a little while before the temperatures shot up again and everything melted. (Note how even the grass has maintained its green).
Every so often, temperatures drop back into the polar vortex territory that we experienced for the previous two winters. But then they invariably rise again.
The wildlife is not reacting well to the fluctuations.
We had an extra cat take refuge in the barn. And snakes are coming out of their dens only to freeze in the snow.
On behalf of the local wildlife, Ralph came out of the barn to investigate where winter went.
“No, I don’t believe I see any snow on this ground here.”
Not trusting his sister’s bad eye, Bax came to help her look.
“Nope, I do not see any snow either… And I think I’m sitting in mud.” (He was.)
A month from today we will officially be into spring. Do you think we’re going to have a winter between now and then?
What’s winter been like where you are? Are you seeing any unusual wildlife behaviours? Anyone want to join Ralph’s and Baxter’s search party?
I think this hole in the ice is a sign that someone had a bad day.
But someone else didn’t take the warning.
“What do you mean the ice isn’t safe?”
“My foot’s cold… and wet.”
(And just in case you’re worried, the pond is pretty shallow here, so when Bax did actually break through, he was able to climb out without any trouble. Although he was a little miffed that the ground cracked and he ended up wet. I also had him on his long lead so he couldn’t wander too far.)
Being a farm dog is a lot of work. The last few weeks, we’ve been cleaning out the barn.
Usually, Matt and Julia don’t let me in the barn.
They say it’s Ralph’s home, and she’s allowed to have her own space no dogs allowed. I don’t know what the big deal is. I don’t chase her too much. And I’m her brother. Aren’t I supposed to bug her?
The first time I came into the barn, it was very interesting. There were so many sniffs. Ralph was there too. And I didn’t bug her at all.
By the third weekend in the barn, I was exhausted.
Ralph was guarding her food dish, so I climbed into her bed. It’s a big pile of straw, but all of the nests are cat-sized. I turned and turned and turned, but I did not fit. I dug around and was able to make a dog-sized nest.
I gotta say. I’m a farm dog. But I’m not a barn dog. That straw was prickly. This is my not impressed face.
Ralph seems to like it for some reason though. She left her food dish and came over to give me dirty looks from the stairs.
Apparently I was still bugging her. My work as a farm dog and as a brother is never done.
Oh, Baxter. You have such a hard life.
Want more Baxter? Check out That Mutt tomorrow where I’m writing about his favourite toy. There’s even a give-away for your own furry friends.
You’ve been hearing about me spreading manure on the garden pretty much all fall. However, this post has been an even longer time coming. In fact, it’s been sitting in my drafts folder since June 2012. Way back then, Matt and I mucked out our first stall.
I was responsible for raking up the old straw.
And Matt was responsible for getting the straw out of the stall and into the field behind the barn.
We just used rakes, rather than bothering to find the pitchforks, and then we piled the old straw behind the barn. This stall became Wiley’s garage.
The previous owners of our property had boarded horses. When they left, they didn’t bother to clean out the stalls.
And this fall, three yearslater, we still had 14 stalls full of straw and manure.
We also had a brand new vegetable garden that had been super productive. If I wanted to keep it productive, I needed to replenish the soil.
That meant it was finally time to tackle the barn.
It took me about 9 hours spread over three weekends. There were more than a dozen trailer loads of manure, and I don’t even know how many wheelbarrow loads. There were two assistants, Ms. Scratches and Mr. Sunbather, neither of whom gave very much assistance.
There was no way to get the tractor or the trailer into the barn, so I wheeled all of the straw through the barn, up a plank and into the trailer. When the trailer was full, I towed it out to the garden.
I got very proficient at backing up the trailer through this project. It just fit through the gate on the garden.
I usually laugh when people ask me what my workout routine is. I own a farm. That means I work. No need for a gym membership. Here’s my version of a workout video. Repeat that about a 100 more times.
So it only took me three years (or really three weekends once I got started), but finally the stalls are clean.
Now to find a new workout…
Have you ever had to muck out stalls? Any tips to make it easier? (Not that I’m planning on doing it again). What’s a project that you’ve had hanging around for awhile?
Home on 129 Acres 