Spring: An Inventory

We took a vacation this year and went to California for a week to see Earl's family north of San Francisco. Now that we're back and almost all the snow is gone, we're taking stock of where we are and getting ready to work really hard until October or so. Here's how it's looking:

Calves: Two were born while we were away, and one the afternoon we got back. All heifers, names too goofy to report except Amethyst, Ambrosia's calf, hopefully starting a long line of lovely gemstone cows (sometimes you deviate from the first-letter thing when you think you'll end up with forty-two cows with A names otherwise).

Chickens: One less Black Austrolorp, thanks to our dog who apparently is crying out for attention in all the wrong ways. New chicks are on order, including some meat birds, which we haven't raised since I've been on the farm.

Grass: Growing fast and possibly able to provide feed for the cows by this weekend, if supplemented by some hay in the pastures.

Mud: Going fast and, with recent road improvements, not much of a factor in our daily routines. This is a big departure from previous years when every successful trip up the driveway was an accomplishment.

Fence: Earl and Erik have walked about twenty miles this week, checking all the fences and waterlines. They have kits and spools and I see them only in passing, when they stop in for water and cookies.

Heifers: The smaller group of weaned heifers moved out onto pasture today. It was pretty neat to see the first animals of the year move out of the barn yards. They're in the double-fenced training pastures down at Earl's brother Billy's place where they'll move to a fresh paddock every few days.

Employees: We are so lucky, blessed even, to have such a great group of people working here. Nancy, Jay, Erik and Steve and Pam held down the fort beautifully in our absence. Larry is happy to be back driving the truck and we are fall-on-our-knees grateful to have him.

Garden: The strawberry plants were happy under the heavy snowpack and are green and healthy. I found about a half bushel of last year's carrots in the beds I was preparing to plant peas. They were in great shape and, along with our potatoes, beef and maple syrup, made a fabulous beef stew last night. The onion starts are ready to go out as soon as I can get space made for them. Jackson's giant pumpkin seeds have sprouted and are taking off. My tomato plants, despite being planted in the finest germination mix I could buy, are quite wee and reluctant. (Kate planted hers in plain old potting soil and they are big and beautiful. I don't know how Michael and Margaret get their seedlings started, but the tomato plant they gave me for my birthday looks ready to flower. I have seedling envy once again.) The oregano, sage and tarragon are greening up with the scallions in the herb garden.

Little league: Cliffy's first practice was rained out after fifteen minutes, but he got a chance to take some swings and to be out in the long summerish night with his friends. Jackson's first practice is this weekend.

The Big Leagues: The Sox apparently had no trouble winning ball games while we were gone, but have fallen prey to a nasty flu virus. If I wasn't so busy, I would make them some chicken soup, as my grandmother would have. I think she would have liked Dustin Pedroia every bit as much as she liked Marty Barrett, who was the subject of many Yiddish endearments.

Hay: It looks like we will have enough hay to get through. Earl has been counting and recounting and, I suspect, hoping and praying, and it seems like it's worked out right this year, for once.

Frogs: The peepers are out tonight with their chorus of desperate pleas for love. I was staring down thirty when I found my soulmate and I understand and feel for the little creatures, but I won't mind if they're desperate for a while yet. I love taking a deep breath of cold, damp spring air and falling asleep to frog song. As a matter of fact, I ought to do that right now.

Goodnight.