Spring has finally sprung up here on the tundra, and a young goat’s heart turns toward the salad bar.
Snow from the east meadow melted into a seasonal stream
that feeds the back pond
which has only recently iced out.
Seasonal streams on the west flow out the back of our woods and into our neighbor’s tract
where that old Pontiac ought to be firing up any day now.
Greenery is poking up through the winter debris
and before long the woods will be too choked up (and buggy) for easy walks.
The goat babies are at their cutest.
This is usually the prime time of year for visitors to come play with them –
another tradition lost to the pandemic.
Our only recent visitors have been winged,
with lots of transient waterfowl splashing around on the front pond,
or of the four-footed variety
including !@&#$%^ Franklin’s ground squirrels
and gazillions of deer
who freely ignore the governor’s social distancing guidelines in their browsing frenzy.
The goats, too, are enjoying the fresh grass
and opportunities to trim trees.
When a branch blown down in a windstorm was placed in their pen
they soon nibbled it down to bare bones.
They scamper about on their daily outings
and mob their favorite playmate
then it's back home
to patrol the skywalk
and wreak havoc in the barn.
Given an opportunity, they would love to join those California goats running amok.
Spring wasn't all fun and games. It included disbudding for Kuiper's kids
and tattooing for three of the guys.
Nine wonders what all that screaming is about.
Spring also brought the annual barn cleaning,
removal of a winter's worth of poopy-pee-y hay.
Pens were first dismantled
under the close supervision of the older girls
(the babies just chilled out)
then the father-son team of Laveau Excavating arrived
and soon had the barn looking spiffy again
and Mount Compost looking higher and neater.
The goats couldn't wait to get back inside
and start pooping up the area anew.
Momma Kitty gave us a scare when she vanished suddenly, missing her usual breakfasts at 4:15 and not showing up on field cam recordings at her usual haunts.
A week went by and we were on the verge of placing a memorial in the local Pine Knot News
when she reappeared again without an explanation.
We surmise she had moved to Florida for the warmer weather
but then got scared when she encountered all those crazy people crowding the beaches in the midst of the Plague.
Now she's back to her usual routine, sunning herself on top of the hay bales.
Though quarantined, Dustin is not acting any odder than usual
surveying his kingdom
yawning
and then snoozing away.
He pointed out that SOME lucky cats are getting fancy new beds
while he has to make due with the same old accommodations.
Alarmed by reports of cats contracting the virus,
he has taken to spraying us down with Purell whenever we get near
and wearing his own mask.
We discovered in the basement a batch of N95s (left over from a cleaning project when we had chickens) which we donated to St. Luke’s Hospital and hope we never have occasion to encounter them again in person on the faces of medical workers.
Friends Janet and Lila were kind enough to sew us some replacements.
As the pandemic continues, we urge everyone to
