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Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Woodland discoveries

Well, we've determined that what we initially took to be the nests of nice little hobbitses are actually the nests of some even nicer neighbors—the white tailed deer! These majestic ungulates help around the house by keeping the Japanese maple trimmed back, fertilizing the lawn with their little raisinettes, and removing the bark from tiresome imported ginko trees and ornamental maples lest the plant life grow up and threaten the view. I retract all earlier criticism, which was based on incorrect assumptions and my natural predisposition toward fits of unchecked terror.

Based on this information and the mulling over of things that naturally occurs during the settling in time at any new home, we've decided that Bag End is not the best name for our new home. In a change of direction, but one no less literary, we've come to the decision to call this place Mossflower Wood, with Casa de Bartholomule-Teaspoon being the 1/2 acre therein that is currently fenced.

FarmWife loves these dear deer. She really thinks they're grand. In fact, she enjoys them so much that she dreams of opening a deer rehabilitation center here in Greenbank for the treatment of orphans and accident victims! (Those of you who are my friends on Facebook will recall that FarmWife and her father and children went on a daring ride to the nearest available wildlife rescue center earlier this summer, about 3 hours away, with an injured fawn. 'Twas then this dream was born.)





Sunday, August 31, 2014

First day, new home!

Casa de Bartholomule-Teaspoon is officially OCCUPIED! Welcome home, me!

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Somewhere over yonder

This is FarmWife's view from her new bed, before lifting her head from the pillow. 

Usually there is a dog face or two blocking her line of sight, but never mind that. The dogs will move when asked to. 

There, over yonder, where the young green alders grow, there shall be constructed by FarmHusband a shed of the most glorious design. Its Dutch doors shall look out upon these French doors, providing the most beneficial intercultural collaboration of portal design known to man or mule. Without lifting her head from her pillow, FarmWife shall look upon my splendor and glory and know that I am hungry for breakfast. She will see, because of the way I stare with goggly eyes in the direction of her bedchamber. 

Behind the shed, through the woods, a swath of clear space shall be made to let me meander up the hill and into the glory of the upper pasture, that being at present a series of clearings which need only weed whacking and fencing in order to be made ready for my arrival. They are roughly situated behind the glowy, sunlit bit of forest in this photo. 

It will be perfect. 


Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Gruncle Rick and the Red Coat

You may recall that my Granny Joan and her partner Rick bought Missy a nice new coat to help deflect the cooling seaside breezes at Moonstone Farm. Here's the coat being worn during the celebratory last head butt of the day, with Gruncle Rick*, our own personal St. Francis figure!


And here's the coat being worn with dignity and grace, as it deserves. 



*Gruncle because he is all the goodness of a Grandpa and an Uncle in one.