Mornings begin well at Farview. As soon as Frank, who sleeps next to my leg, realizes my eyes have opened, he comes up for a nose-to-nose greeting and a bit of stroking. He and I get up together and he accompanies me to the bathroom. Animals seem to know or quickly understand that one is a captive audience in the bathroom and I'm generally joined by one or more, with no excuse not to pet or scratch as requested. As we come out, Bessie Anne's tail starts thumping on the bed and she rolls over for a tummy rub. She's generally not a morning person and so goes back to sleep most days. On the way to the kitchen, Frank asks to be let out the front door. Pearl sleeps on Bessie's bed in the living room, and she wanders in to say good morning, rubbing against my ankles while the coffee machine does its thing. Looking over her shoulder to see if we're alone, she'll lead me over to the treat drawer and quietly suggest her day would start much better if she had a few of those nibbles. It's a game we play, seeing if we can get away with the sneak. At the far end of the house, Bess has either phenomenal hearing or smell because many mornings she appears like a wraith at my side, no matter how silent I've tried to be. "Aha! Caught ya! I would also like a treat, please." That always makes me laugh.
Involved (tearing my hair is more like it) with computer and camera problems and census forms, life has gone on regardless. All of the goat girls have gotten their pedicures. With more daylight, the hens have upped their production and eggs are starting to pile up in the refrigerator. I recently saw a Jacques Pepin episode where he made orange souffle crepes. Dolly had brought a gift of oranges from her tree so I have all the ingredients; those crepes are sounding better and better. With the unusually warm weather lately, the oaks are starting to put out leaf buds. I spoke with Tree Guy the other day. Some months back we'd discussed his tree-climbing son cutting out some dangerous widow-makers (dead branches) from several of the oaks. That needs some prompt attention now. I'd also like the guys to take care of the burn pile TG created last fall. I don't want the birds to begin nesting in there, and this false spring has turned their thoughts to love already. The barn birds have started twittering and staking out their territories on the girders and under the eaves; much safer than the burn pile.
Puttering around after daylight, I see the wildlife start to emerge. Yesterday a covey of fifteen or so quail in freight-train formation came up the driveway on their way over to the feeding station. I held off going outside so as not to frighten these shy birds. Hummingbirds, anything but shy, come for their morning slurp from the feeders on the deck, clicking like castanets if I'm standing too close.
Finally, rain or shine, heat or cold, it's time to gather the buckets and head down to the barn. There are worse ways to start the day. It's a good morning.