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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2wBUaJN:
i dunno why i’m so tired today but it is raining and dim and i’m already in my bed (because it started sprinkling after supper and i said, i’m going out to the woods now, i don’t want to go out there in the rain), and now my body’s like, ok, let’s go to sleep now, and uh, it’s uh, it’s 8:15pm, that’s not actually time for bed…
I’d just go to bed but if I do I’ll be up at 4am and I’m not really prepared for that.
Oh, Dolores moved out, did I already write about that? She took down her web and left last time it rained, she must have gotten leaked on and figured it was the last straw what with me blundering daily through her web supports. She probably thought I was getting too clingy, naming her and all. Orb weavers are stone cold, man, you gotta admire that kind of dedication to the solitary lifestyle.
Hung out with Farmbaby for a good while today, she did some really ridiculously adorable stuff but I can’t remember any of it. Also she of her own volition changed into a floofy party dress which she wound up wearing sideways the whole day. She’s hardcore dedicated to wearing her shoes on the wrong feet now too, she’s decided the “right feet” thing is for suckers and won’t be corrected. The apprentices have thoroughly become inured to her ways and are good sports about her antics, which is always good; she’s kind of their coworker, and it’s part of the working environment, for better or worse.
There was a farm tour today– there’s a network of local farms that all have apprentices and follow a sort of curriculum, I forget what it’s called, but every other Monday (every Monday??) the apprentices all go and tour one of the farms in the network, so they can get an idea of what their comrades are all learning. So today a bunch of mostly-young farming students came and toured around the farm– refreshingly, not just a bunch of white kids, and all different ages, and about 60% female-ish (some were sort of indeterminate, which, I mean, they’re in farm clothes, I’m not making any detailed judgements about anyone’s identity from that kind of presentation, I’m just saying).
The small pigs behaved extremely charmingly. (I hadn’t realized: half of the new lot of feeder pigs we had to buy in are actually purebred Old Spots, which is a threatened heritage breed! A local breeder specializes in them. The other ones are Tamworths. ) The hens were mildly curious. The broiler chickens were utterly unmoved, even when as a demonstration B-I-L literally moved one of their pens. They’re basically meat with legs, so.
B-I-L got a solar rig set up on the egg chickens’ flat-roofed eggmobile (they have two; one is a curved-top sort of Conestoga-wagon looking thing, and the other just has a pitched lean-to tin roof made of scrap), and he was a little disappointed no one had questions about it, because he’s quite proud of it. His idea is to keep running two Eggmobiles, but one has the solar panel and battery, and the other is parked an extension cord away, and the battery runs strips of LED lights in each one so the hens don’t go into moult from lack of light. It’s a great idea and I quite like it. I’m almost sorry I don’t have solar for the yurt, but I’m not really; an extension cord is far, far easier.
This morning after a whole elaborate thing of helping Farmbaby climb over things and carrying her past some prickers and having to do some pretty athletic things with her, I set her down and was walking down the driveway which I walk down every day, and I tripped over basically nothing, turned my ankle on a loose rock (it is a gravel driveway and thus is made of such rocks, nurr) and landed hard on a knee and both palms. Fortunately I landed straight down– meaning my body absorbed all the force, but also there was no friction so the skin didn’t tear. So, just bruises, but. I tripped over nothing, and Farmsister heard me land, and was like, “Did you fall?” and I lay there and moaned “yes” and after I dragged myself up I said to her, “am I elderly? is this what happens when you’re elderly?” and she being herself said, of course, “yes,” so.
I’m not even forty, this does not bode well. What does bode well is that my palms have already mostly absorbed the bruising, so. I guess I better get on those calcium supplements so that when I continue to be a fucking klutz I don’t get a broken hip.
i dunno why i’m so tired today but it is raining and dim and i’m already in my bed (because it started sprinkling after supper and i said, i’m going out to the woods now, i don’t want to go out there in the rain), and now my body’s like, ok, let’s go to sleep now, and uh, it’s uh, it’s 8:15pm, that’s not actually time for bed…
I’d just go to bed but if I do I’ll be up at 4am and I’m not really prepared for that.
Oh, Dolores moved out, did I already write about that? She took down her web and left last time it rained, she must have gotten leaked on and figured it was the last straw what with me blundering daily through her web supports. She probably thought I was getting too clingy, naming her and all. Orb weavers are stone cold, man, you gotta admire that kind of dedication to the solitary lifestyle.
Hung out with Farmbaby for a good while today, she did some really ridiculously adorable stuff but I can’t remember any of it. Also she of her own volition changed into a floofy party dress which she wound up wearing sideways the whole day. She’s hardcore dedicated to wearing her shoes on the wrong feet now too, she’s decided the “right feet” thing is for suckers and won’t be corrected. The apprentices have thoroughly become inured to her ways and are good sports about her antics, which is always good; she’s kind of their coworker, and it’s part of the working environment, for better or worse.
There was a farm tour today– there’s a network of local farms that all have apprentices and follow a sort of curriculum, I forget what it’s called, but every other Monday (every Monday??) the apprentices all go and tour one of the farms in the network, so they can get an idea of what their comrades are all learning. So today a bunch of mostly-young farming students came and toured around the farm– refreshingly, not just a bunch of white kids, and all different ages, and about 60% female-ish (some were sort of indeterminate, which, I mean, they’re in farm clothes, I’m not making any detailed judgements about anyone’s identity from that kind of presentation, I’m just saying).
The small pigs behaved extremely charmingly. (I hadn’t realized: half of the new lot of feeder pigs we had to buy in are actually purebred Old Spots, which is a threatened heritage breed! A local breeder specializes in them. The other ones are Tamworths. ) The hens were mildly curious. The broiler chickens were utterly unmoved, even when as a demonstration B-I-L literally moved one of their pens. They’re basically meat with legs, so.
B-I-L got a solar rig set up on the egg chickens’ flat-roofed eggmobile (they have two; one is a curved-top sort of Conestoga-wagon looking thing, and the other just has a pitched lean-to tin roof made of scrap), and he was a little disappointed no one had questions about it, because he’s quite proud of it. His idea is to keep running two Eggmobiles, but one has the solar panel and battery, and the other is parked an extension cord away, and the battery runs strips of LED lights in each one so the hens don’t go into moult from lack of light. It’s a great idea and I quite like it. I’m almost sorry I don’t have solar for the yurt, but I’m not really; an extension cord is far, far easier.
This morning after a whole elaborate thing of helping Farmbaby climb over things and carrying her past some prickers and having to do some pretty athletic things with her, I set her down and was walking down the driveway which I walk down every day, and I tripped over basically nothing, turned my ankle on a loose rock (it is a gravel driveway and thus is made of such rocks, nurr) and landed hard on a knee and both palms. Fortunately I landed straight down– meaning my body absorbed all the force, but also there was no friction so the skin didn’t tear. So, just bruises, but. I tripped over nothing, and Farmsister heard me land, and was like, “Did you fall?” and I lay there and moaned “yes” and after I dragged myself up I said to her, “am I elderly? is this what happens when you’re elderly?” and she being herself said, of course, “yes,” so.
I’m not even forty, this does not bode well. What does bode well is that my palms have already mostly absorbed the bruising, so. I guess I better get on those calcium supplements so that when I continue to be a fucking klutz I don’t get a broken hip.
