I was out turning the compost pile yesterday, noticing that virtually every task  is accompanied by its own specific pain. It’s become more apparent since I was splitting firewood with a maul last week and began to experience numbness in my left arm, radiating from the shoulder to the thumb. When I’m throwing flakes of hay to the mules and bovines, the arm that isn’t numb tells me I need to consider having it amputated beneath the elbow. If I wear my waterproof boots to muck out the mule’s pasture, the arches of my feet cramp , and if I wear the steel-toed hightops my ankles throb. But it’s getting warmer, and soon I’ll mostly be letting the mules work.

Mule Butts

Mule Butts

And the hens have been laying more eggs than we can eat. Especially considering the whole left arm numbness thing. Wait.. is that a subtle yet insistent pain in my jaw?

chicken tractor

chicken tractor

We keep the hens in tractors, 1. So we don’t have to search for the eggs, 2. So they’re protected from the endless sexual predations of the roosters, 3. So they’re protected from opossum and foxes, and 4. For the grim satisfaction of knowing the roosters aren’t.

Deer are starting to stroll through the yard at feeding time, as though we bought the damn things. I should be able to get some clear pictures of them soon enough, perhaps gracefully leaping the garden fence, or helping themselves to a crisp , cool bed of lettuce. Maybe even standing at the back porch door with the heifer, waiting for alfalfa cubes.

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