July hastens toward a conclusion
under the light of a full “hay”
or ‘buck” moon.
The start of the month saw a quiet 4th – not as many neighborhood fireworks as in previous years
and certainly nothing as spectacular as the 4th in Duluth 30 years ago
which we witnessed from the safety of prime seats up on the Coppertop Church lawn.
For many, these are the dog days of summer (dies caniculares, according to the Romans) –
named after Sirius, the Dog Star, whose added rays made July through early September especially hot.
But MeadowWild, of course, acknowledges only the goat days of summer
and autumn
and winter
and spring.
For these hot, steamy days
Barb treated the goats to a pair of industrial-strength fans.
We thought they might be afraid of the wind and noise
but they're happy as a dog with its head out a car window
or facing a leaf blower.
On the hottest days they hang out in front of the fans with their goatees flapping in the breeze.
When it's cooler, time for a stroll down Red Oak Lane
with lots of brush trimming
and maybe a peek to see what's going on inside the house.
Monthly hoof-trimming for the gentlemen was a real challenge.
Mojo resisted having his collar put on
deciding that it would be more fun to trim apple trees
but Barb finally managed to get him and young Draco under control to complete the pedicures.
July saw another graduation, with Kuiper's Haumea matriculating to her wonderful new home
at Majestic Muse Farm in Cook, MN.
(photos courtesy of Jim & Lauren)
For Steve's 70th (!) birthday, Barb bought him his first lawn tractor
so now he tears around the yard on “LightningBolt,” speeding along like Mario Andretti at a heady 2 MPH
his beard flapping in the breeze.
All those spring blossoms on the apple trees
have now morphed into apples, promising a bumper crop this fall.
But why don’t the lower branches have any fruit – or even leaves?
We’re going to have way more apples than we can possibly eat fresh
or even dry for the winter and spring months.
The scheduled opening of TWO new craft cider establishments in Duluth has suggested some ideas.
Perhaps we'll turn our harvest into some good old fashioned American Applejack.
Or maybe we’ll call it Calvados and charge twice as much.
Since shortly after moving to MeadowWild, Steve has spent most of his Sunday mornings at Friends of Animals Humane Society in Cloquet
making good use of his PhD (American Literature) by hosing out poopy dog kennels
at the old shelter
and then cleaning cat rooms, mopping floors, and doing dishes
at the new building.
Alas, July 29 was his last day, as FOA is closing.
He is now looking for new volunteer opportunities,
a search made more difficult by his dislike of driving, especially in the winter
and by his fear of children
and of old folks.
(Why are old people scary?
Maybe they remind seventy-year-olds that we’ve left spring chickendom far behind.)
Dustin is an alumnus of FOA. He doesn’t regret moving out of the smallish kennel he inhabited for many months there (though he enjoyed cuddling on Karen V-V’s lap regularly).
(The New Yorker, July 13, 2018)
Nor does he regret not napping more -- since he devotes a substantial part of each day toward that pursuit.
