Flowers, Cedar Branches And A Roof

Despite suffering from last year's fungal infection, the Rugosa Roses are alive and beginning to bloom:

The new Day Lilies are doing well and I'm still endeavoring to keep them weeded:

While weeding, I disturbed this small toad. He walked to the edge of the grass and then just waited for me to go away:

The heritage yellow Iris began to bloom:

And then burst into full bloom:

But I've been waiting for the store bought Iris I planted last year. Finally, the first flower appeared on a short stalk, almost twice the size of the old fashioned Iris. It was sure dramatic:

The big Mock Orange bush is fixing to bloom any day now:

And the amazing Ninebark's colors have become even brighter than before. The bigger bush is putting out flower buds, so I'll get to see Ninebark flowers soon:

The Elderberries growing in the old silo base take enormous abuse each winter, but they keep springing back. It looks like there will be lots of flowers again this year:

It was time for me to caulk my leaking roof, but I discovered that low hanging cedar branches were in the way. So I climbed up there and used the chainsaw to cut down what I could safely reach:

I threw the cut branches down into the dog yard, covering the dogs' ramp and confusing them. They waited until I moved the branches before coming all the way down in their yard:

I was tired and not wanting to climb up on the roof wearing my leg braces again, so I decided to put off any caulking until another day. Just then, a neighbor stopped by to chat and offered to caulk it for me. He did it quickly and neatly, a much better job than I would have done. I sure have good neighbors:

A Visit To The Neighbors' Livestock

I returned home from my driving tours (previous posts) and shopping in Massena. I took care of the dogs and then decided to pay my neighbors a visit. I walked across the county road directly toward their barn:

And then veered off to the right to enter their driveway. The kids had built a snowman next to the horse fence. I went inside the house, said hello and asked if I could pay a visit to their horses and calves on my way home. They said that would be just fine:

I entered the barn, which got the two horses and two calves stirring. The horses moved outdoors. The calves, which had been lounging in clean shavings, oomphed up onto their feet, stretched and followed the horses out into the cold:

Are you really going to disturb my comfortable nap?:

I followed the horses out to the hay feeder and introduced myself:

They were wary, but not alarmed. They had, after all, met lots of humans in their lifetimes and most had been friendly. By the way, that's my house and barn across the road in the background:

The first calf toddled groggily out the barn door and stared at me. The other, you can just barely see, lingered in the doorway a bit:

One of the horses let me scratch his neck. In fact, he apparently decided I was OK. Again, that's my place in the background:

The calves did not want to get too chummy with some silly biped. I mean, it was fine for their owners to feed them and all, but some stranger putting his hands on them? That would be crossing the line. Actually, the one on the left was calmer and friendlier, an indication in my mind of the large extent to which temperament is hereditary:

I talked to the four of them a bit:

And then said goodbye, carefully locking the stall door as I exited:

And walked back to my own place where I had all those dogs waiting for me and lots of work yet to be done: