A changing landscape

After that oddball snowstorm just before my April water testing, Sunday was a very nice day to jump in the middle of the creek. I had to pick a location a few feet upstream, since that heavy snow knocked down a huge dying willow tree, which halfway took down a second dying willow tree. Both trees are now blocking the way of my easy access into the water.

In the past year or so, the creek has been changing direction. The branch on the left in this photo was just a trickle last year—that was our marshy pond where the peepers had taken up residence. The branch on the right was where the beaver dam was last year. All washed away now and the beavers have moved downstream, and the peepers too.

It is always interesting to watch the changing landscape back there, I just worry that the creek seems to move a little closer to the house every year. Our baby forest is going to have to put down some deep roots to convince the waters to stay in the back 40, not move into the backyard.

Eagle in the rain

Word around town is that the eagles are gone since their nest across the road came down in a storm last year. They had a different nest a few years ago, a little bit further down the lake, that was abandoned just after we had about 4 feet of snow in late March.

I am holding out hope that they are going to stay local, because I truly enjoy spotting them right outside my window.

This youngster is about 2 or 3 years old based on what I can find online. He was not exactly right outside my window—I had to combine my iPhone with binoculars to get him to look like anything other than a big brown blur in the pouring rain.

He's perched in a tree on the back of our property by the creek, quite a distance from the former nests across the road by the lake. I hope he is more than just a visitor.

Bird battles, tulips, chicks, neighbors

About a week ago, a pair of bluebirds were thinking about moving into the little red birdhouse. When they started building their nest in there, I thought it was a done deal. No, they moved on.

Two days ago, a pair of tree swallows settled on the house. They were serious about their nest building project, including swirling over my head while I was watering the garden. (Yes, we have the beginnings of a garden, and no rain means getting the hose working again.)

This morning, with aerial attacks and lots of squawking, a pair of house sparrows ousted the swallows. It was their house last year, but that just doesn't seem fair to take over a half-built nest.

No good pics of the bird battles (still going on) but I do have some fading tulips that still look great on top of the woodstove that I just used. We've had summery 80° temps for 2 days now, but I had left the windows open all night, and it was 57° in here yesterday morning.

There are still 10 healthy happy chicks in the garage. Without the red heat lamp, I can see their real colors, or maybe it's because their big girl feathers are starting to come out. They might indeed be 2 different kinds of chicken mutts—they don't all look alike anymore.

Warmer weather also means more opportunities to hang out with my favorite neighbor, Don on the Hill. Just look at that happy 14YO Woody face! He loves his neighbor (who feeds him cheese). 

Woody was supposed to be dead in March 2021. He's not.

Is it spring yet?

The grass is green, there are tulips galore, and it's time for sitting out back and enjoying the scenery with the boys. It is officially spring, but I am not ready to plant any of those annuals outside just yet.

The Romantic Husband is still bringing in tulips from the garden. He even took 3 bunches into work for the 3 ladies who work with him. Here's another pretty bunch with another pretty painting (and my last homegrown bulb of garlic hanging in the window just in case you were wondering what that is). >>>

Husband found the painting in the barn out front when we were clearing it out after the owner passed away. I am pretty sure Charlie had no idea who she is either. I think she was somehow related to James Byard, who owned the place a long time ago.

I hope you don't find the last photo gross, because it was delicious. This was the first time I cleaned and cooked a whole fish. We bought this red snapper at the Asian grocery store in Utica the other day.

I had to watch a few YouTube videos to find out how to remove the scales (with a fork). Then work on my knife skills with Dad's old filet knife—remove the fins, slice the sides and back. Then time to cook. Soy sauce, orange and lemon and butter in the iron skillet for a few minutes. Then put the skillet in the oven for a few more minutes. 

It came out very tasty. The toughest part was figuring out how to serve it on 2 plates when the fish just flakes off the bones...

 

Pretty as a painting, and a pretty painting

I am the practical one who mostly buys daffodil bulbs because they are reliably perennial, and multiply over the years.

The Husband is the romantic one. He loves tulips. He bought about 30 bulbs in the fall and planted them so he could cut them and bring them inside for me. And maybe for him too. Pretty as a painting, but they are real.

Yesterday we went to an exhibition of student work at the Munson Williams Proctor Arts Institute in Utica. Our favorite art student, Julie, had painted a Woody portrait that captures him in all his craziness. This is a real painting, and just as pretty as the tulips. 

Red chicks and Red Betty

The chicks are only red because they are under a red heatlamp in the garage. They just arrived this morning after their long journey in a little box all the way from Hoover's Hatchery in Iowa. 

I guess time will tell whether I received one or both versions of the Olive Egger hens. The color of their feathers should make it easy to identify them as an Easter Egger/French Cuckoo Maran mix, or a Cream Legbar/Welsummer mix. I am hoping for the second because we just lost the last of our Cream Legbar chickens to some critter. But it really doesn't matter what they are, 10 little chicken mutts are good enough. We just needed some replacements for lost chickens and older hens who aren't laying much anymore.

This past weekend we sold one of our adult goats to Bob and Barton in Norwich. Red Betty is going to a nice new home where she will be spoiled. They have one other goat, and her name is Wilma. Wilma and Betty, friends again. 

Wilma is a Sable Saanen, which means she is not the pure white that is common to the breed. Our Lucille was a Sable Saanen, all black. I am working on the guys to send me a photo. If she is black, the goats have their colors mixed up. Wilma was the redhead.