Sheltering in place

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