Chapeau Hut Cappello Sombrero Hat

Mom brought along great bounties from Minnesota for her weekend visit.  I may have mentioned to her once or twice that Ole had outgrown the baby hats she had knit for him.  He was even forced to wear (gasp!) a store-bought hat when the weather turned cold.  Our problems are solved, however, as she made him not one or two, but FIVE, cute new hats.

What a lucky boy!  Thanks, Grandma.

Poultry matinee

Another glorious spring afternoon today!  After a trip to the grocery store and a bit of yard work, we spread a blanket in the yard and sat down to lounge in the sun.

Just relaxing and enjoying the day.

Hey, what are you guys looking at?

Ah, poultry theater.  Those chickens sure are entertaining.

We've got the best seats here.  The theater snacks leave a little to be desired, though.

Nice bedtime moment

You don't have to pick up your toys

I'm sure I will never utter these words ever again, but I was getting worried that Ole didn't have enough toys.  Most days we play with every toy he has, and like all of us, he's most interested in new stuff. So this morning we drove up to Orchards for a giant kid's consignment sale.  We found a few toys and some clothes there and also stopped at a consignment shop on the way home.  We gave all the toys a hot soapy bath when we got home.

He spots the new toys for the first time:

And digs right in:

The Toy Eater

by Shel Silverstein

 

You don’t have to pick up your toys, okay?
You can leave ‘em right there on the floor,
So tonight when the Terrible Toy-Eatin’ Tookle
Comes tiptoeing’ in through the crack in the door,
He’ll crunch all your soldiers, he’ll munch on your trucks,
He’ll chew your poor puppets to shreds,
He’ll swallow your Big Wheel and slurp up your paints
And bite off your dear dollies’ heads.
Then he’ll wipe off his lips with the sails of your ship,
And making a bur pity noise,
He’ll slither away-- but hey, that’s okay,
You don’t have to pick up your toys.

Six little monkeys

The monthly potluck with our birthing class is getting so fun as the babies start moving around more and more.  Would you believe that Townsend, a nine month old, is walking and has been for three weeks?  That seems crazy to me.  Cormac can speed crawl.  Ole just sits in one place and plays contentedly, bless his heart.

Green

So, yeah, I pretty much just hang out in the yard.  Today, there were dark storm clouds in the distance, but the sun was shining here.  Knowing rain was on its way, we tried to get a some things done outside.  After planting a few radishes and sugar snap peas, I led the goats to the long grass along the back fence to graze.  The bright sky illuminating the green moss everywhere reminded me of Ireland--very fitting on this Saint Patrick's Day.

Took this one myself.

Check out my new lumber rack.  Oh, yeah.

Calling in the professionals

'Shear the goats' has graced my to-do list for a few months now.  They're supposed to be sheared every six months, but we sheared the last one in early August when Ole was just weeks old.  For us amateurs, it's a two person job that requires a couple of hours at least.  So with constant rain and no real free time these days, it has been sliding down the list.  That's where good old craigslist came to the rescue.  I found Johnny Varga of Wool Masters who was willing to make the drive out to shear our three goats.  Add on a hoof trim and de-worming, and I was willing to pay his exorbitant rate to get it done.

Hold still

Trim your hooves

One quick shot

Almost there...

Just a little off your underbits

Ta-da!