Bluets Houstonia caerulea
Tree
A long week so far at the farm! I started out combing a lot of cashmere off some of the wethers. Those old guys are so cute!
Then tragedy struck yesterday. ONe of the old guys was found down in the field in the morning in a bad way, and he was euthanized late yesterday morning.
M called me this morning for a ride, an I was happy to pick him up, as I assumed he would be on the gravedigging detail. Alas, I was put in charge of the "two boys", and since the compost heap is getting rather full, M led me well up the road into the woods by an old foundation, and pointed out several graves.
Dismayed, as I am quite aware what it is like digging animal graves in the woods, M picked a likely spot and we started root chopping. R showed up in a little bit, and we had hardly made any progress. It took the three of us at least an hour to dig the hole.
We put the rocks separate from the dirt for the top of the grave.
P showed up after a little bit and smoked cigarettes and watched us. She and I put the body, slung in a sheet, in the hole, and had to gt one of the boys to help us tug it into position, as one of the hinds legs had stiffened out. The goat, King, still had a large rack of horn. Once the weather warms time becomes of the essence in animal burials, so we had to allow room for his horns as we put his sheet-wrapped body in the hole.
The boys started to fill it right in, and I took a small hemlock branch and placed it over the sheet where the face would be and started backfilling the grave with the boys. Halfway through I thought maybe we should have got Boss but it was too late.
When we finished R offered me a smoke, and I had to have him stick it in my mouth and light it for me. I had been the major rock grubber and my hands were encased in sticky clay. I made the standard joke of having him smoke it for me as well.
When we arrived back to the barn, Boss and Mr. Boss were loading the two Great Pyranees in the back of a four-door SAAB(!!!!!!) to go to the vet, and Boss was heartbroken we had not come to get her for the burial. I still feel awful about it, and let P and R and M know next time to make sure to get Boss when we are readyfor interrment!
Then we agreed that today was the day to move the bucks back to the Nash farm. Yeah!! They actually have grass and large pastures there, although the black flies were unbearable!
I helped load thefirst four bucks and went ahead in my car to hook up the fence charger. Then I was left in position of goat watching until all the herd had been moved over. Tough job!!!
I sat outside the fence at the top where they were grazing and smoked cigs and drank cold coffee. I listened to the blue jays calling and watched a nicely colored land snail slurping it's way over a metal post lying in the grass.
Nature didn't stop when I came home. I decided to take a walk streamside now the floodwaters have gone done. This time of year, the marsh grass is just a few inches high, and the alders have yet to leaf out. The marsh is intersected with channels, some too wide fo me to safely broad jump without a wet foot( ask me how I know this). Today I had to find a few flood-washed logs to make questionable cat walks over some of the channels, determined to reach the lower corner, which I have yet to achieve.
At one place along the stream, a large maple was tipped across the current and still continued to grow, sending upward branches from its now-horizontal trunk. This has created an excellent place for the collection of flotsam and jettson, and I could not pass up the treat of balancing my way over the rushing streams; a fistful of maple buds in each hand for balance as I crossed the fastest part.
Once there, I saw the ancient bottom of a disintergrated skiff jammed upright in some deadfall. I tested one of the logs to see if it was going to sink beneath me and found it lodged firm. I crossed out over the current to tug at the rotted plywood skiff bottom, to find it brittle in my hands, and wedged tighter than I could manage without a swim. My knees got wet while I sat on the log with my feet tucked up behind me.
On the way back, I picked up a handful of freshwater clams shells I found in one of the channels, and paused to admire a wild male mallard swimming upstream.
I picked my way back through the marsh juggling the stack of delicate pearly clamshells in one hand.
As I moved away from the water, the air became hot and stuffy. The clouds are looming large and dark and I am hoping it is too early in the season for a thunderstorm!
