Friday, January 31, 2014

January Kid






He/she is the cutest little creature. Born probably last night. Why do they give birth in below zero weather? Could it really be that it's a selection principle. The first hurdle: survive bitter cold. Sibling sadly dead.

Water water everywhere




We are made mostly of water. And yet water outside of us needs constant negotiation. This is what happens when you leave tap dripping to stop the pipe freezing. Inside the cabin there is ice flooding. Heaters and towels everywhere with the sinks and shower pan blocks of ice.
I hope everything is not ruined.

At  midnight last night as I was retiring for the night I discovered there was no water in the bathroom sink. Then there was a snap and a sound of rushing water. The pipe had burst and was gushing into the basement. I turned off the water and went to sleep. Joe and Cathy came round in the morning and mended all four broken pipes under the two sinks. We are so dependent on heat, electricity, water ... and when one goes (like Heidegger's broken hammer) the depth of our dependency becomes visible. So much of our lives we are walking on high scaffolding.

Joe Davenport came to feed the dogs etc this morning and on leaving reported we had a new arrival. One live goat and sadly one dead one. I went to buy more straw for bedding in the stall, and some proper goat food and then headed up. There was still umbilical cord dangling from mom, but the dead goat seemed stiff. I reckon they were born last night (when the pipes burst?). I got the young'un into the stall and having trapped three  goats in the central area by the promise of dog food, finally coaxed mom into the stall, with yet another goat, and finally then let that third one out. Force just doesn't work. Food and guile are the only paths to success. And then a big bowl of . . . . water, of course.


Monday, January 6, 2014

Seventeen Turkeys

Walking up the trail yesterday I counted a flock of 17 turkeys foraging in the woods. Last year I woke up one morning to a bunch of turkeys on the road by the garden. There were 17. What is it about 17? Is it important that it's a prime number? Can the turkeys only take 16 others around them then drive the rest away. Is this one family group with 15 surviving turklets?
Google 17 turkeys and you can find photographs with that title! I wonder what happens with other numbers.

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Plus ça change ...

Four horses left last week, their tails between their legs.
This week, four deer celebrate their return.
Its Deer Park time again.
(Not the best image, but its a rainy grey day, and they quickly run away when I approach.)