In Minnesota, "ice-off" means people are making bets as to when the last of the ice will be off the lake. Here on the farm, it means I took off the ice cleats off my boots.
Today is spring. Really. Amazing! The chickens are happy to have some ground to scratch in. (In the winter, I sometimes leave the coop door open. The ladies line up right inside the door, craning their necks to look outside, but no treat will induce them to actually step out onto the snow.)
My two old cats ventured outdoors yesterday. Tony went into the sheep barn, so they all had to sniff this new and unfamiliar creature. Poor cat was terrified! Hightailed it back home to his cushion by the wood stove. Lina the sheep was fascinated by him, and I wished they could make friends.
All the ewes are pregnant and starting to look like watermelons about to pop. Matilda - my dear, queenly girl - looks like she is going to do triplets again this year. When I look at her from the front, she looks like a football, viewed from the long side. My lambing kit is ready; panels for the lambing jugs are leaning against the wall in the barn, and - God bless her! - Roberta said, "Call me!" Now we wait.
The dogwoods are in bud, and I am off to prune the dogwood tree on the north side of the house before it covers the walking path through my garden there.
I think of Ram-beaux, and it is bitter-sweet. His children will be here soon.
I'm Ipek, farmer at DewGreen Farm. And these posts are a slice of life at DewGreen.
I call DewGreen a "tiny mighty farm". Tiny because small lets me see that my life touches the sacred every day as I feed the soil, animals and people in this little place that grows good food, offers peace to all who visit, and provides a happy home for me and my animals.
Thank you for joining us.