Bright and windy day, perfect to pick the red currants and blackberries that are beginning to ripen. So I did that this morning, then picked them over and put them in the freezer (except for some blackberries that went on my breakfast yogourt. YUM!) Got about 1 1/4 pounds and that's just a beginning. I'll keep picking and freezing until the berries are finished and then I'll make my very popular hedgerow jam: a combination of red and black currants, raspberries, blackberries and gooseberries... all the small fruits available.
Then it was time to pull some weeds in the veggie garden. The pigweed and lamb's quarters are growing like they are on steroids due to all the bunny manure, but with all the rain they are easy to pull. Brian and I gathered pulled them by the armload and also scored about 4 gallons of purslane, mallow, dandelions etc. for the bunnies' breakfast.
Well, the day is still breezy and the air quality is good, so I'm feeling pretty energetic for a change. Humidity and pollution make me feel eighty years old, but today I don't feel a day over 60. (I hit the big six-oh next month.) So I decide to quit procrastinating and cull Polly, our big black doe who has been less than productive. Brian and I went down to the goose house to get her.
Patrick, our gander, decides that Willow (our broody goose) needs protection from us. So he stands guard right in front of her nest and we can't get by to get Polly out of her cage.
Maggie gets a little impatient here and decides to take him by his neck and steer him out the pop-hole. So I lean over and Patrick stops hissing long enough to latch onto the nearest part of my anatomy. (Did I mention I wasn't wearing a bra?) And he won't let go! I finally pry him off and push him out, gt Polly, do the deed and proceed to process her.
But I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow and goose bill marks clearly showing where they will be hard to explain. Quick! I need a story. Because my doctor looks like a city girl and I doubt she'll believe the truth.
I love country life.
Then it was time to pull some weeds in the veggie garden. The pigweed and lamb's quarters are growing like they are on steroids due to all the bunny manure, but with all the rain they are easy to pull. Brian and I gathered pulled them by the armload and also scored about 4 gallons of purslane, mallow, dandelions etc. for the bunnies' breakfast.
Well, the day is still breezy and the air quality is good, so I'm feeling pretty energetic for a change. Humidity and pollution make me feel eighty years old, but today I don't feel a day over 60. (I hit the big six-oh next month.) So I decide to quit procrastinating and cull Polly, our big black doe who has been less than productive. Brian and I went down to the goose house to get her.
Patrick, our gander, decides that Willow (our broody goose) needs protection from us. So he stands guard right in front of her nest and we can't get by to get Polly out of her cage.
Maggie gets a little impatient here and decides to take him by his neck and steer him out the pop-hole. So I lean over and Patrick stops hissing long enough to latch onto the nearest part of my anatomy. (Did I mention I wasn't wearing a bra?) And he won't let go! I finally pry him off and push him out, gt Polly, do the deed and proceed to process her.
But I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow and goose bill marks clearly showing where they will be hard to explain. Quick! I need a story. Because my doctor looks like a city girl and I doubt she'll believe the truth.
I love country life.
