Crimson and clover

Yes, that's a goat I'm walking.  Our guy Milton has turned into quite the troublemaker lately.  In addition to getting his head caught in the fence every single day, he has started ducking out of his pasture pen after just a few minutes of grazing to rampage through the strawberries.  I've decided it is all just a desperate cry for attention, so I've started to lavish him with pets while his head is caught in the fence and he can't dodge away.  I also leash him up and walk him up and down the road in front of the house.  Someday I hope he will show promise to be a cart goat and pull our child around in a tiny chariot.  We'll see..

It's time to mow down the crimson clover and till it in to help build the soil.  It's just that it's so pretty, we can hardly bear to.

Ole is already trying to fill his father's shoes.

Baby bee baby bee

We've been spending a lot more time outside now that the weather has warmed.  I have the daunting task of preventing sunburn on Ole's waxen skin, so I've paired the giant sun hat with SPF 45.  It's so practical and so darn cute!

Alex's folks and brother came out for a visit and brunch on Mother's Day.  They haven't seen Ole since he was a wee baby, and Ole was eager to show off his new crawling and standing skills.

Ole giggles as Patrick blows on his wispy hair

We moved the hives into a sunnier location this year.  They're doing great so far, buzzing happily and visiting our patch of blooming red clover.  Here I checked each hive for new eggs, a sign that it has a healthy queen.

And we're still prepping and planting the garden, very thankful for the dry warm days.

a year later

Every May I am drawn down the woodsy path near my house by the wonderful scent of lilacs.  A few large bushes grow on the southernmost edge of a neighbor's property, and she's kind enough to share them with us.
Here I am last year, glowing in my pregnancy:

And here I am this year, slightly more disheveled:

The weather was much nicer last year, but the blurry effect from the rain on the lens today does have a nice dreamy quality.  Hardly a ringing endorsement of my fashion sense, I'm wearing the same black hoodie in both.  Just add baby.
Alex clipped his way through thorny blackberry vines to reach the lilacs.  I snipped off a few branches of pink blossoms from the old apple tree.

Most of this land is scheduled to be scraped and flattened this summer in a ill-conceived highway straightening project, so we point out tiny saplings to each other.  They're plants we could transplant if we had the space to grow them.  We size up fallen trees.  They're firewood if we saw them up and haul the logs away, if only we had a surplus of time and energy this spring. 
The trillium caught Alex's eye.  They are a sure sign of spring in the woods here.  These are trillium ovatum, one of eight trillium species on the Pacific coast.  Despite the increasing rain, he dug up a few to transplant to our small grove. 

3/4 of a year

We celebrated nine months with Ole on the outside today.

He's had a busy week--he learned to wave and to pull himself to standing, and yesterday he crawled for the first time.  The crawling is still a pretty deliberate motion, but getting smoother all the time.

He is such a sweet and happy boy with a funny sense of humor.  I can't believe how quickly he's learning all about the world; it is truly a joy to watch.  And I know everyone says it, but I really can't imagine life without him now.

Touring the Gorge

Our neighbors invited us along to the Maryhill Museum of Art last night for a chamber of commerce event and celebration of the museum's new wing.  We boarded a party bus in Stevenson and the adventure began. 
The drive east through the Columbia River Gorge is beautiful.  The scenery changes dramatically from the dense conifer forest of home to open high desert.  Ancient floods of the river expose a cutaway of lava layers in the canyon.
The museum was built by Sam Hill (not of "Where in Sam Hill?" fame, in case you were wondering) and has an interesting history. It sits on 5,300 acres with a sculpture garden and a full-size reproduction of Stonehenge. We will surely be returning to explore further.

 photo from Maryhill Museum website

We enjoyed wine and cheese in the museum's expansion.

We checked out the view from the new deck and posed for a family shot.  You can just barely make out a few of the dozens and dozens of windmills over Alex's shoulder.

We loaded back into the bus and headed for home.  Someone suggested a spontaneous stop at Schreiner Farm.  A quick turn off the highway and I spotted a herd of buffalo on the left, then a zebra in the distance, a bunch of reindeer...what is this place?

Basically a mile long road with huge fenced areas on either side and a turn-around at the end for gawking tourists, Schreiner Farms is a privately owned 12,000 acre cattle ranch with over 20 different exotic species of animals including ones I'd never heard of like wallaroos, watussi, and muntjac.  It's such a surprise to see these animals in the middle of nowhere Washington.
Then walking down the road we see this guy:

Oh, just out taking the camel for a walk.  And not one of those boring one hump camels...this is a quality two hump Bactrian camel.  John was nice enough to stop and give a us a informative spiel about camels and the ranch, and given the inebriated state of the party bus, this was no small task.  A few people went in for a camel kiss, and here someone gets a camel nibble. 

 Get a load of how tall Calypso is!

A fun evening was had by all!  Ole basked in the attention as he was doted on by the chamber members.  Our neighbor (and Chamber President-elect) Dale shows that he's a natural politician. 

My pair of keets

I've been a bit nervous to let the parakeets out of their cage for some exercise.  Their previous owner let them fly free weekly but told me I'd have to catch them to get them back into the cage.  "They'll bite," she warned, "especially the green one." 
I could tell they enjoyed stretching their wings as they flew loop de loops around the master bathroom.  They'd perch on the shower ring or the fabric banner tacked to the wall momentarily and take off again for another lap. 
After an hour or so I moved the open cage to the middle of the room and pointed at it hopefully, "Okay, birds, back in your cage.  Go."  No such luck. 
I've caught the odd bird that got into the house through an open door before using a dish towel, so I felt like I already had the relevant experience to get this done.  These parakeets, though, have humans all figured out.  They gauged my arm's reach and hopped around the shower ring just beyond it, their two pairs of birdie feet in unison.  So I resorted to swishing the towel around, sending them into panicked flight.  It's great exercise, I rationalized, for them and for me.  After a few attempts I gently caught the green one against the windowsill and cradled her in the towel.  I released her back into the cage.  The blue girl squawked loudly a few times, flew over to the cage and jumped inside to join her friend. 

A sunny weekend on the farm

Alex fired up the old Montgomery Ward tractor to till the garden this weekend.  First we pulled down two sides of the old fence and then spread out the compost that has been cooking all winter.  I drew up a garden plan and sorted the seeds.  Next we'll replace the fence and form the paths and planting beds. We've got high hopes for the best. garden. ever.

Our country bumpkin enjoyed the summery weather.