Mrs. Possum comes to visit each night now, not bothering the chickens but finishing up any food they spilled or left behind. We surmise it is a "she" because of a large white patch on the back, perhaps caused by babies clutching the hair there in another season?

When Daisy (dog) and I saw her last night, she lay apparently dead but really playing "'possum". Daisy nosed it around, but it didn't move, indeed was stiff and smelled dead (caused by a secretion of the anal gland, like we needed to know that). I pushed first with my shoe, and then with a stick, turning it neatly over. No movement. I contemplated picking it up by the tail and popping it in a dog crate, but feared it would curl up and bite my arm. I 'd likely drop it and get rabies shots for weeks.

I put Daisy inside the house, thinking that would be the test to see if it lived still. Sure enough, when I returned, it stood looking at me. Apparently, I'm not as scary as my dog, for instead of playing dead, it lumbered off. Ugly thing. William and I have read a story about the opposum's tail and why it has no hair - it was too prideful of its beauty. Hard to believe anything was ever beautiful about this overgrown rat.

As for today, at the grocery I bought soft and frozen treats, fruit drinks and ice cream to properly mother my son who had his adenoids removed and ear tubes inserted this morning. I picked up a few other items while there. I suppose it is a testament to the healing of the young human body that when I returned, and he starving from having had no food all day, wanted tortilla chips with con queso dip to eat. Naturally, he's not getting that given that he's just had his nasal and throat cavities reamed out, but it is good to know he's feeling better. He is taking every opportunity, however, to play up his invalid status. Relieved to have this over, I'm only too happy to accomodate him. We are hoping that his newly drained ears will keep us from having to shout every word and lower his decibel level as well. He was a very brave boy at the hospital, impressing the staff with his politeness. He is happy, however, to be home.

What's next? Paris (dog) is looking perkier but is as blind as a bat. I'm doing my best by her, but I don't know. Lazarus - he'll have to go to the vet for his sore paw, which I dread because he goes all feral on us when there. Anyone want a mean, stupid cat?

Wordless Wednesday - A Spring Crop of Babies

A Load of .....Well, You Know

Lauren and I are pet sitting this week for a young couple and their baby who are in Paris and then London. Another job starts in two days for a woman traveling to Israel. And of course, my own dear daughter just returned from Japan. Myself? I am moving manure.

Over the winter, we've accumulated a good amount of, shall we say, fertilizer? An elderly neighbor loves all that we can give her, and so her husband dutifully brings a trailer over for me to load with our tractor.

It is good timing. The house next to ours, built behind our barn and near the manure pile for what reason I'll never comprehend, was sold and a "middle-aged woman and her mother" (according to the selling couple) are moving in. I've not had to deal with neighbors much at all, but each time I do, I wonder if they'll complain about our rooster crowing, my kids in the yard all hours of the day, or horses that churn up the dry paddock that is next to the intensely manicured lawn.

The house and yard in question are beautiful. Lauren described the cleanliness of Japan. Yet, how could I live without the animals? What could be more satisfying than a good tractor and a pile of manure to move. Okay, I dream of a Caribbean vacation with dh and my girls before they grow up and fly the nest. And yes, I'd like to travel. And yes, a new house with a working septic system and new roof would be lovely. But right now, in this place, we've worked together as a family, felt joy and loss, learned to appreciate small things - like how little chickies love to fight over and rip apart a worm, or how foals make a funny face to older horses that says "I'm a baby - please don't hurt me". I wouldn't change our lifestyle for the world.

As for the photo, William continues his paternal family's farming tradition by learning to drive a tractor from an early age. Dh claims to have driven a tractor standing up, well before he could reach the pedals. (Warning: Do not try this at home!) You can see that Wm has the same photosensitivity that runs in our family. I offered sunglasses, and he claimed he did not need them.
"But, you are squinting," I protested.
"It's only because my eyelashes are sweaty," he replied.
Okaaaaay.