A Beautiful Summer

This is a view of the barn and winter hay supply as seen from the gravel road. It looks like we are having a bumper crop of cattails this year, a surprise because it's been so dry:

The little plum tree which produces so much fruit began to lean farther and farther until one day its lower branch actually hit the ground:

So I went into the barn and retrieved one of the cedar posts I'd removed when the Bush Cherry died. I drove it into the ground with the tractor bucket and used 12 gauge fence wire to pull the tree back upright, with a bit of rubber hose to cushion between the wire and the tree trunk:

I began to wonder if the hose was enough cushion, so I got a pool-noodle and cut a piece to put around the hose for extra softness. Now I have a happy tree:

A new Day-lily began to open, but I didn't know what kind it was:

After seeing it fully open, I went back to my original order and learned that it is called a Frans Hals. I also read that it will rebloom in autumn:

And speaking of blooms, my little rock garden had become a riot of color:

The Blue Sea Holly and Asiatic Lilies were putting on a real show:

But the Blue Sea Holly was swarming with Bumblebees and wasps of various kinds. I looked up this wasp and learned that it was Sphex pensylvanicus, or Great Black Wasp. It is a Digger Wasp and stings other insects, paralyzing them, then dragging them down the holes it has dug for its young to feed on:

Even bigger and more numerous was this wasp, Sphex ichneumoneus, the Great Golden Digger Wasp. It seemed more aggressive than the black species and I read that they do sting, so I was careful:

On the day we got our first rain to break the drought, I noticed the reddish morning sky and thought of the old adage, "Red sky in morning, sailors take warning." In my case, I was delighted because we'd had so little rain:

One Sunday I cut some Asiatic Lilies and Blue Sea Holly to put in a vase and bring to church. They were lovely, but my little rock garden suddenly looked a bit denuded:

An Early, Frigid December Morning

It's been a cold, blustery December so far and early morning chores are particularly rugged. I wait until the sun is up before going outside. Of course it is quiet and cold as I walk from the house to the barn. My barn was behind me as I took this photo. The red barn you see is the neighbors' barn, across the road:

 I love seeing the sun rise above the horizon. In this case, it seemed to be behind the horse and buggy sign, warning motorists to watch for Amish travelers:

 The cattle had enough hay that morning, though I have to bring out a new bale every other day:

 Cold winds blasted the barn with blowing snow, and icicles hung from its eaves:

 Tire tracks from my tractor decorated the snow from the previous day, so at least we'd had no new snow:

 The Rugosa rose hips were shriveled and snow capped:

 It was far too cold to leave the dogs in their run while I did the chores and it seemed eerily deserted:

 Chickadees were eating sunflower seeds:

 All thirteen hens were locked in their coop and I left a light on for them until the sun was fully up. One hen (the white one) has already laid three green eggs. I didn't have a camera at the time, though, so I never got a photo before I ate them. There will be more eggs in the spring:

 All 21 white fantail pigeons seem to be enjoying their big room. Like the chickens, they too have a heated water fountain. It gets plenty cold in their room, but their water never freezes:

Pigeons, Hay Bales, Sunrises, Chickens And Fruit

The fantail pigeons only produced two babies this summer, and both of them died. But then this this lovely bird hatched one squab and fed it carefully:

 It fell to the floor on its second day, but since the parents were feeding and tending to it, I left it alone:

 It began to grow rapidly, sprouting feathers. I am hopeful that this little one will grow up and join the flock. There has been a second baby born since then and it too is doing well:

 A neighbor spent more than a week cutting, tedding (turning it over to dry in the sun) and baling the hay in my north field. I'd already filled the first floor with hay from another field, so my portion from this field went up into the hay loft. Electric bale elevators are marvelous inventions:

 And early in the morning, the parked haying equipment looked stunning in the rosy glow of sunrise:

 Wild blackberries ripened and I didn't even have to go looking for them. I stopped my riding mower and ate these right next to the lawn without even getting off the mower:

 I don't often see the fantail pigeons, the "baby" chicks and the adult hens all together, but some of each were all hanging out by the barn mini-door on this day:

 The eight remaining hens now live full time with the youngsters, though they diverge into two separate flocks the moment they get outdoors:

 I see a lot of glorious sunrises, but this one was the best so far. It was even more colorful that the photo and seemed almost to pulse above the foggy northeast field:

When I rang the bell to call in the cows that same morning, this was the morning sky over the southeastern field, which also was covered with fog. The cows and horses, by the way, refused to come in that morning and I had to wait until late afternoon to give them grain:

 I was taken aback when I saw these berries in my giant Lilac bush. They were on Virginia Creeper vines and perhaps the first time I've seen Virginia Creeper berries - or, more likely, the first time I truly took note of them:

 Some varmint, probably a rabbit, had been gnawing my windfall apples. I finally figured out who was eating them. It was my own hens, strolling beneath the apple trees, with a peck peck here and a peck peck there. I can still feed most of the apples to the cows, but some are so thoroughly demolished that I can't even do that. These were three good, still usable apples:

Around The Farm

The baby chicks are not such babies anymore:

They now live full time with the big hens. I heard my first rooster's crow the other morning so there will be more and more of that as time goes on:

And they have the freedom of the outdoors all day, every day. Blondie, the stupid one, is beginning to figure things out. She (or he) is the light golden colored bird at the far right of this picture:

 The Rose Mallows in front of the house came into full bloom, the pink first and then the red:

And they amazed people as they drove by:

I look up to the sky when I first arise and let the dogs out. It's often a beautiful, mysterious sight:

I wait until dawn before going out to do the morning chores. The sky is often beautiful then also:

My two bargain basement roses are both blooming. I kept the labels which told me the variety names but they are both pink and I can't be sure which is which:

One is lighter than the other and has fewer petals. but when I look at the labels, they are not helpful. It doesn't matter, of course. They are just pink roses:

The elderberries began ripening but were eaten rapidly by the birds. I tasted them and found them lacking in flavor, so I didn't want to compete with the birds. I do, however, want to eat my own bush cherries next year. I only got one this year. It was the last cherry on the bush and it wasn't ripe, but I knew it was my only chance to taste them as the birds had eaten every other cherry:

Morning sky in the northeast:

Morning sky in the southeast. This is part of the reason it is such a pleasure to do the morning chores:

Pictures From Around The Farm

The pigeons are happy to be rid of the chicks and get their room and privacy back:

My plum tree once again produced some nice plums:

I cooked about eight cut up plums with a diced apple and sweetened it with brown sugar Splenda. It made for a fabulous dessert:

Daisy, the mama cat which someone dropped off at my barn, has become very sweet and friendly. Alas, the local shelters are full and of no help at all. Their low cost spay and neuter programs are backlogged for many months. I plan to get Daisy her shots and then spayed. Then I will try to slowly introduce her to the menagerie which lives in my house. Will she recognize Bugsy, her own kitten? I suspect not, but will be watching to find out:

I went for many weeks without finding any eggs. Then one day I found this nest atop the hay bales but hidden by an old board. I threw out all the eggs and hoped that the hens would start using the nest again. They did not. There surely are other hidden nests, inside or outside, but I have only found one of them. I have an indoor nest which gets one to three eggs each day:

The wildflower called Butter-and-Eggs began blooming in the south field. It's one of my favorites, largely because of its creative name, but this was the only plant I saw this year:

One section of one apple tree produced an abundance of fruit this year. I sent much of it to a friend from high school who now lives in Texas and was hankering for a taste of the north country:

The baby chicks began staying with the big hens and spending their days outdoors. They were frightened and confused at first, but soon learned:

All eighteen of them stick together most of the time and never stop peeping. They sometimes venture farther from the barn - but not too far:

They're pretty smart and adaptable birds, all except one. Do you see that golden colored bird with a white bird right behind it? He or she (I can't tell yet) is more stupid than any of the others and I joke it's because it's a blond. It will be interesting to see how the dumb bird survives:

I do the morning chores just as the sun breaks over the northeast horizon and sometimes spreads its colors to the southeastern sky. I love to see it:

The pink Rose Mallows bloomed first and then the red flowers began. Notice the cluster of giant buds behind my hand. It will be a grand display this year: