Spring Morning

Out with the dog at 4 a.m., that zone between night and morning. Peepers peeping, owl hooting. Birds waking up, loon calls from across the lake. Goats stirring in the barn, muffled sound of goat bells. Bats returning to their roosts, wild turkeys leaving theirs.
Close my eyes and breathe in the smell of the lilacs beginning to bloom, and a light east wind brings the scent of the sea.

Oh Frabjous Day!

... to paraphrase Lewis Carroll, we have slain the Jabberwocky of winter.
To paraphrase Martin Luther King, spring at last, spring at last, thank god almighty, spring at last...

Kid Heaven

Just for the kids.

Welcome back, froggers!

I heard the wood frogs last night! Welcome back!
Next come the peepers. Soon, the night will throb with their songs.

Out Like a Lamb -- no, Kid, no, LION!

March did not depart gracefully. We shipped off the first batch of kids to their new home on the last day of March, and then it started to snow again. This endless winter just doesn't want to let go. More snow predicted for Friday. Such an April Fool.

Spring Training: Zero to 46 in 12 days

The first kid of the season was born on March 19. We're now up to 46 kids, with just five does left to give birth. We've gone from not milking to milking almost 30 twice a day, from no kids to feeding them all. We've already shipped off 24 to their new homes, so the kid peak has passed. In the meantime, the girls in the barn get their spring beauty parlor treatments: hooves trimmed, udders clipped. They have to re-learn milking parlor etiquette: no crowding please! no bullying! please use the In Door! And I have to remember how to make cheese again after a long winter's hibernation.

Signs of Spring

The saps buckets are up! Can spring be far behind? The stately old maples that line our road get the traditional metal buckets. Plastic lines snake through the woods and drip into tanks near the road in less accessible spots. We use milk jugs. I've seen almost every kind of container used to catch the precious sap, even plastic bags. It doesn't matter. It all means spring.