Happy Full Moon

Tree

Another Full Moon is upon us. I have enjoyed watching it slide past my window behind the computer every evening this week, paired with a bright planet that I spent some minutes trying to find online with no success.

Thursday and Friday one bizarre event happened after another.

Yesterday morning I was collaring and graining my goats, and noticed that Sir Nicolas, who I tie last, had his head stretched up against the wall-his usual place, but the unusual fixed position of nose to sky caused me to wonder if he had bracken poisoning. Goats are supposedly not susceptible to bracken poisoning, but the symtoms include staring up into space.

I kept collaring goats, and when I got to Nic a few minutes later, I immediately saw the problem. The poor guy had caught his beard on a nail head and could move. The hair was snaggled around and around the nail. Quicly I called the Willow to stay with the goat, and sprinted off to the house for scissors in knee high rubber boots-through the kitchen to the scissors and back through without taking off the boots-sprinting back through the yard and a voice in my head saying "never run with scissors" ack!

No, I didn't trip and stab myself; I ran right up to Nic and with one quick snip he was free, staggering slightly and having a quick drink of his own pee...(boy goats do that a lot). I checked him for dehydration and he was fine-ate his grain, but walked, didn't run, down to his hay afterwards...

He stood right there snaggled while I tied seven other goats, and never made a sound.

Poor chap, good thing I check them twice a day. Actually I don't do a head count at night, but I think I might start now.

Later in the afternoon, our fishing trip was delayed by pond visitors-no boat;I saw a large man with an unruly child and a dog, and I had a bad feeling. After sulking a few minutes, I decided to go ahead and dig the worms with Willow, and by then they had left, so fishing was back on.

Imagine my suprise and disgust when I realized they had FLEA BATHED the dog on the shore...the whole area reeked of insectide, with just a handful of soap mixed with dog hair on the saturated ground. I know from past experience the odor of flea shampoo and the fact that the label states quite clearly NOT to introduce it into any waterway as it is toxic to fish and pondlife.

Moron.

It didn't stop the fish from biting, though. The Firebird caught two small sunfish and lost a huge one to a snapped line after the bobber disappeared and the drag on his line started screeching. The Willow had some great casts on her own. I wore shorts this time, so I didn't mind wading into the weeds after three or four miscasts.

She landed a pumpkinseed and another good sized-bass-a bit smaller than the day before. Hooked in the jaw again, and this one I couldn't get out so I cut the line close to the jaw and let him go. I hate to leave a hook in, but the site of the jaw bleeding had her nearly in tears, and I just could not seem to get the hook free.

Today Willow helped me give Peko a bath-in our tub with a five gallon bucket of warm water and Pantene shampoo. He was such a crazy happy dog afterwards-racing around the house like mad. Now he is all shiny and smells good.

We passed on fishing tonight and made a pizza run as the sky was darkening. We passed right under a wicked storm cell on the way home-me praying to get home before it hit. I had never seen such an odd sky-it had cracks running through it, and rolls, and things that looked like small funnel clouds...sorry no pic; although I had the cam I was booking it to get home.

The Firebird turned on PBS to catch emergency broadcasts..and three seconds later, there it was. Yes, we had passed right under it, but it was headed away from us. Thank goodness.

I grew up in thunderstorm country, but seeing two foot diameter oaks snapped like matchsticks last summer has left me with the desire to be home when the next one hits.