Showing posts with label cuddly things. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cuddly things. Show all posts

Friday, April 20, 2012

Labors

Well! It seems that though the past few days have been a blur of hacking coughing, bleary consciousness, and general misery, there appeared to be quite a few photos that made it onto the camera. Probably because there was an awful lot going on.

There was the general labor.

General and pointless, as we really did not need enormous chunks of dirt in this bucket. But it kept Cubby entertained for a good five minutes while I sat drooling and half-awake in a chair on the lawn, so it's a useful activity from my viewpoint.

The sheep have been laboring, too, in the literal and somewhat bloody sense.

LAAAAMBS!!! Kind of far away lambs, since their mothers are not too keen on close-up interaction with their precious young yet.

The first one to go, the Merino, needed milking out a couple of times to give to the lambs in bottles. Both to get the lambs going and to relieve her obviously swollen udder so she would allow them to nurse. Something about the configuration of the teats on the Merinos makes this almost routine for that breed. The Cotswolds rarely need assistance. So far three ewes have given birth, bringing the current lamb count to four--two boys, two girls--and ten sheep yet to have their lambs.

And then, since nothing goes better with leg of lamb than potatoes, we planted some potatoes:

I'm sorry, was it in poor taste to refer to eating the lambs immediately after their birth? Too bad. Such is life in the country. Oh, and see my potatoes up there? WHEE!

In a marked contrast to last year, the potato field was prepped with the tiller this year. Which means it was done by A. He also hoed out some shallow rows and dropped the potatoes in at their appropriate intervals. So, basically, he did all the work. And you know what? I am TOTALLY OKAY WITH THAT. We're trying the mulching method this year, since I'm definitely not going to be doing any hilling in my current useless state. So the potatoes will sit out for a couple of days to green up and sprout some more, then A. will cover them in that sheep-shit straw he hauled to the garden last weekend.

Are you getting the idea that all the labors we're discussing here involve A.? You're pretty much right. I did manage to transplant my tomato seedlings yesterday by myself:

Hello, my lovelies.

But then here comes A. again to paint the shed roof and show me up as the lazy lump that I am:

Does this look like fun? Yeah? Well, it's not. Or so I hear.

That's a metal roof, probably about fifty years old. It's supposed to be painted in a latex covering every ten years or so. A. thinks it was last done at least fifteen years ago, so it was pretty rusted and way past due.

And then we went to get hot dogs and ice cream at the seasonal ice cream stand for dinner because I was obviously WAY too tired after all my picture taking to make dinner. Also, I wanted some ice cream.

So that brings us up to date as of now. Stay tuned for more lambs, more garden stuff, and more fun from Blackrock.

Monday, October 3, 2011

This Post Brought to You By a Photo Dump

Let's see what random images have been languishing on my camera for a week now because I'm too lazy to plug the thing into my computer and upload them . . .


Ah. The mighty raccoon hunters, here awaiting the possibility that a baby squirrel will fall out of this tree and into their waiting mouths. Which it did, later in the day. Sucks for the squirrel, but one less rodent to scratch around in the attic directly over our bed.

A boy and his cat. Cubby is an equal opportunity pet lover.

Big boys get to drink their own tea out of their own mug like the big people do. Sitting on their own chair. It was pretty exciting. Also, as you can see, pretty cute.

Also on my camera but not posted here is a picture that A. took of his homemade knife--what I insist on referring to as his shiv, much to his displeasure--on top of the rabbit he skinned with it. (The rabbit wasn't skinned yet, though. That would have been too gross.) I figured you didn't really need to see a dead bunny and its skinning implement first thing on a Monday. You're welcome.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

A New Addition

A. is supposed to be going to get a new ram this morning. Ever since Donnie the ram went to his reward last winter, we've only had ewes and ram lambs. It's been kind of restful. Even with a good, relatively docile ram like Donnie, you don't want to turn your back on him. Or do this:

It's nice having some animals that don't bite.

But no ram means no lambs in the spring. And that means no lamb meat in the freezer next fall or leg of lamb for Easter or lamb kebabs on the grill in the summer or . . .

Well. Bring on the ram. They may be a pain in the ass, but they have their uses.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Oh, Why Not?

I know I already posted a sheep+Cubby photo yesterday (and I must say, got great enjoyment out of all your captions--you so funny), but really, is there any such thing as TOO MUCH sheep+Cubby?

Obviously not.

Happy Friday, poppets!


Thursday, September 8, 2011

It's Time for a Game! WHEE!

Anyone out there read The New Yorker? Yeah, me neither. I'm not such a fan. But the MiL subscribes to it, so she reads it, and A. will sometimes read it as well. My interest in it is pretty much satisfied by a cursory flip through it after rescuing it from the clutches of Cubby the Destroyer before he can tear the latest issue to shreds.

I guess he's not such a fan either.

ANYWAY.

Every issue of the magazine has this thing where the readers can submit their own captions for an un-captioned cartoon, and then in the next issue the best captions are printed in the magazine. I always find those captions to be somewhat lame. I think to myself, "I bet MY brilliant readers could do so much better than that." I mean, these are the people that brought us the Slippery Slope and Grasshole. Clever, without doubt.

Never mind that The New Yorker has about a million readers and I have about a hundred. That doesn't matter. What matters is quality, not quantity.

So, poppets! Sharpen up your rapier wits, and caption this photo:


Friday, August 26, 2011

Trot Trot

I'm afraid that while Cubby thought the real horse he sat on a few months ago was a little too large for a small cowboy, he has found a steed more his size.

You can call her Trigger.

Poor, beleaguered Mia. She's put up with a lot from Cubby in the last year or so. This is just a little too much, though. I try to stop him from jumping on top of her, but sometimes he's too quick for me. She was very patient for a while, but now as soon as he runs over to her yelling, "Tra tra tra,*" and starts to swing his leg over her back, she just gets up and comes to me, seeking protection from this crazy toddler that has replaced the calm, stationary, milky baby whose face she liked to lick.

I know just how she feels. (Except for the face-licking, that is.)

* Trot trot trot, that is. Cubby is not so good with the terminal consonant sounds.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

The Chick Cottage

I call it the cottage because it's little and has a cute peaked roof. Which I can now show you, because I took some pictures.

Except I kind of cut off the peaked part of the roof in the photo so I could include Cubby for scale. It's peaked though, promise.

It's also a little crooked, because the old concrete barn foundation it was built on isn't level. NOTHING is level on our property, because it all slopes towards the lake. As nature intended.

ANYWAY.

That pallet there Cubby is leaning against is actually a big door, the one we will use to enter the cottage when necessary. The food and water are just inside the door, as the nesting boxes will also be when we put them in, so that we won't actually have to go into the cottage much. That's the plan, anyway.

And here's one with A. for scale.

Somehow he makes it look more like a dollhouse than Cubby did. Funny.

How about a little peek at the inhabitants of the cottage?

Fried chicken dinner in August! Any volunteers?

We're keeping them closed up in the cottage for a few days to get them used to it, then we'll build a small caged run just outside their door so they can get outside but not too far away. This will, we hope, instill in them the habit of returning to the cottage at night.

Soon, though, they will have free run of the ram pasture. And here are their pasture buddies now!
Who have no idea we're about to unleash two dozen chickens into their pastoral paradise.

And that's the latest chicken news from Blackrock. Over and out.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Better Late than Never?

Right. After a few days of all talk and no photo action, may I present . . .

CHIIIIIICKS!!!! (That one's for you, J.T.)

They're about two and a half weeks old now, which is why they are no longer just bundles of yellow fluff but instead look like . . . miniature chickens. The breed is Rhode Island Red, which is a very old dual purpose breed (meaning for both eggs and meat) known for its hardiness. Good thing, considering their new home.

And speaking of their new home . . .

CHICKEN TRACTORRRR!!! (What, not as exciting?) (Please note Mia gazing in longingly from outside the barn.)

I didn't actually take any pictures of the chicken tractor as it was being built, but you can see it's just two rectangles top and bottom with three vertical supports on either side (plus one horizontal on either end for stability). The whole thing except the top and bottom was then wrapped in Satan's wire and put in the barn with a couple of spare pieces of metal roofing on top. A. pried apart pallets to use for the supports on the sides and end, because that wood is thin and makes the whole thing lighter. Also, that way it was free, which is always our aim.

Woodchuck construction at its finest.

It's not actually a tractor yet, because we haven't put wheels on it. So it's . . . a litter, I guess? A. and I can carry it together anywhere we want to put it for now. We do have two old wheels that came off Grasshole, so if we can rig up an axle and put those on the back, then I guess it would be, oh, a rickshaw.

Yes, in time, we may have the world's only chicken rickshaw. We aim to be original.


Sunday, April 24, 2011

Little Lambs--But Getting Bigger

Happy Easter
from Blackroc
k

P.S. Cubby is actually laughing in this photo, despite the yelling lamb six inches from his face. Still no fear.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Sheep Stuff

Lest you think that perhaps I have forgotten about updating the current lamb count, be assured I haven't. We're still waiting on one Merino to have her lamb. And it's starting to make us kind of nervous. Chop chop, Millie! Let's get all these lambs on the ground already.

And speaking of sheep and lambs! We're supposed to get a visit from the local (tiny) preschool today. They're coming to see the sheep. Yes, we have become a field trip destination. I only hope none of them end up in hysterics when Bonnie yells right in their faces for food.

And speaking of sheep and yelling! OH MY GOD, are those sheep loud. They're in the pasture right by the house, which means they can monitor the activity of the humans and start agitating for food as soon as they hear any signs of movement. Plus, since they're all nursing, they're really hungry. I can sympathize with that, but four ewes yelling for food (the Merinos don't actually yell, thank God--it's just the Cotswolds) is DEAFENING. And irritating. If only we could just leave a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter out in the field for them.

And speaking of sheep and that pasture by the house! That pasture also happens to be right next to the road, which means there are a lot of people slowing down or pulling right over to look at the lambs popping around the pasture. This makes the dogs quite angry and they spend much of the day barking futilely at the threatening vehicles.

And . . . that's all. Have a nice day.


Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Animal Planet--Live

Who needs cable when you've got a live dog, cat, and sheep show right outside your door?

Better than TV any day.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

That Boy Again. And His Dog.

Ahhh. It's so relaxing by the fire. So peaceful. So soporific. So . . .

What's this? The hairless puppy is pulling handfuls of fur from my flanks?

Eh. ZZZZZ.

Now that's a good dog.

Friday, August 6, 2010

Just Sittin' Around

Oh, hey. What's up?

Yeah, I sit up now. Because only BABIES can't sit. I keep telling them I'm not a baby.

I mean, okay, I can't sit without support yet. And yeah, I still enjoy sucking on my fists and staring mesmerized at the bright lights and tinkly music from my Baby Einstein toy. But me? A baby? Please.

I prefer to be referred to as a Recently Arrived Person.

Oooo. Gotta go. Time to play with Daddy's foot.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

It's a Girl!

Ladies and gentleman, I am pleased to inform you that Chickie is definitely of the female persuasion. Yay more eggs! And yay not having to behead the only chick to be born this year!

A horrible photo of Chickie (the bright white one closest to the camera), because the only time I can get close enough to get a good picture is when they're on their nighttime roost. But at least I GOT one, after meaning to take one for weeks.

Chickie has also been given a new name. By me, because I'm selfish with the naming thing. Her new name is Opie. Short for Opium. Because she's Poppy's chick. Geddit? Poppy? Opium?

I know. My wit astounds even me.

We still mostly call her Chickie, though. I don't care what she's called, however, as long as she starts laying some eggs for me next year.

Got that, Opie? Get to work.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

The Place To Be

The blanket on the floor is where all the cool kids hang out.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

A Little Pick-Me-Up

Hello, duckies! How was your long weekend? Did everyone have a sufficiently patriotic Memorial Day? By which I mean, did you all sit around eating charred flesh and drinking large amounts of spirituous beverages? That's nice. I didn't. I thinned beets and carrots in the blazing sun and did laundry. And hauled around the giant infant, of course.

BUT. I don't have to go back to work in a cubicle today, and for this I am profoundly thankful. For all of you who DO have to go back to work in a cubicle (and for everyone else, as well), here's a little something to ease your pain:

CHIIIIIIICK!!!!!

That's right! We have added another baby to the Blackrock menagerie. You're looking at Poppy the Hen, puffed up to twice her normal size and clucking menacingly to inform me that I best keep the hell away from her precious chick or I will pay the consequences. Poppy did this all by her ownself, just sitting on down with her egg one day and getting up three weeks later to present the world with her baby.

The chick was actually born last week, but didn't venture outside (and therefore into good camera range) until just recently. But now it hops around quite happily after Poppy, pecking busily at tiny bugs and generally being all chicken-y.

And yes, there was only one egg Poppy hatched. She's starting off slowly.

Now everyone keep your fingers crossed that this chick turns out to be a girl. Because I could really use one more hen, but could really NOT use one more rooster. The rooster position is filled, and any subsequent boys must be, ahem, disposed of.

So! Please send happy female thoughts to this chick, and everyone have a lovely day!

Thursday, May 13, 2010

My Babies

Some of you have asked how Mia is doing. Mia, you should know, LOVES the baby. Maybe a little too much, in fact. I'm always swatting her away so she won't lick his face or hands. Because we all know where her mouth has been.

What I assume you really want to know, though, is if I'm neglecting her now that I have a REAL baby. This should answer that question:

If you sit on the dog couch, you have to be prepared to share it with a dog.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Photogenic

Still a little shaky on the legs . . .

But undeniably adorable in the face.