Harvey's back!!!

Have you ever had the kind of day where everything you touch somehow goes wrong? The kind that has you looking skyward and yelling, "Really?" It all started when I had a horrible nightmare about 5 minutes before my alarm went off at dawn. I'll spare you the details, but after I told Gene about it he said I wasn't allowed to watch The Walking Dead anymore. 

So I'm already mightily creeped out when I stumbled into the yard to do chores. Imagine my horror when I looked in the pasture, only to find Woolimina lying on her back with all four legs stuck straight up in the air. If you were going to prank someone with a cartoon looking fake dead sheep, that's exactly what it would look like. The only thing missing was giant "X's" over her eyes. I screamed her name, and was so relieved when her head moved. She'd somehow gotten stuck on her back, so I had to physically roll her over. (Which wasn't easy, by the way. She's a bit of a Large Marge now.) After stumbling around for a few minutes, she headed straight to her food bowl. So that crisis was averted. I did some research, and apparently sheep can just ... get stuck like that. Especially if they're standing on a slope. I guess that's why they get sheared on their backs, it makes them shut down. Thank god I'm a helicopter farm mama and found her right away, because if they don't get turned right side up fairly quickly it can be fatal.

Now fast forward an hour to the email I sent my boss snarkily asking if we were still having our virtual phone meeting because he was 15 minutes late, which I sent approximately 7 seconds before realizing I'm the idiot who wrote it on the calendar wrong and it's next week. Turns out it was a good thing I didn't have a meeting, because I looked out the window just in time to see Porkulous The Persistent's butt disappearing into the chicken coop. I had to wake up poor Gene early so he could fix the fence before going to work. And just as Gene sat down to eat his breakfast, Porkulous the Powerful ripped an entirely different fence panel down, then stampeded off with a snort of delight. Needless to say, Gene was almost late to work.

So then I decided to take the dogs for walk, since I had a doctor appointment in town and would be gone for the afternoon. I knew it was cutting the time close, since I needed to leave in 30 minutes, but I figured we'd just go to the end of the road and back. Chupi picks that moment to have a potty catastrophe, which necessitated an immediate bath. And a good bit of speeding to make the appointment on time.

And when I got home? You guessed it. Porkulous the Pesty was out and about again. I had to call our neighbor down to help rebuild the fence. And by help, I mean I stood around and watched him while he fixed it. I was too busy fending off the 300-pound, mud drenched, happy bundle of joy that decided he wanted cuddles. Again. Which set an official record, by the way. I went through every single pair of jeans I own, and our washer smells horrible.

But you know what? None of that matters, because today was awesome! Harvey came back!!! After a months-long bunny bender, he finally came home. He must have been fairly happy to see me, because he rammed the back of my legs from behind. I was ecstatic to see him, even though his sneak attack brought back fleeting memories of my earlier nightmare. He looks amazing - he's just as fat if not fatter than when he left, so he's been living the good life out in the woods. He demanded Wheat Thins, of course, and I ended up giving him about a quarter of a box. I also gave him a plate with a selection of his favorite treats - welcome home Harvey!!! You were missed. 

Why does Costco have Christmas decorations already???

It's official - fall is here. Watermelon treats have been replaced by pumpkins from the garden, which Gene helpfully throws off the deck so they blow apart in an explosion of yumminess. The only one who isn't fond of pumpkins is Porkulous the Picky, ironically enough. Apparently there is something pigs won't eat. He is doing well, and growing quickly. Big enough to break out of his pasture area repeatedly, actually. He digs his snout under the hog panels, then yanks his head up with sufficient force to drag the t-post out of the ground. It's hard to be mad at him, though. He gallops around the yard with such gleeful abandon, making cheerful whuffling noises and running from one interesting thing to the next. I've taken to letting him out for an hour or so to explore the pasture, and he wanders back into his pen once he's sure I've put a few treats in his dish.

He has a fondness for apples, so every time one falls off one of the trees, I give it to him. Even though the trees are young, we've gotten quite the bumper crop. And I was ecstatic to see we got our first two pears, even though they're approximately two inches long. Perfectly formed, but the size you'd find in a dollhouse. I'm assuming they'll be more properly sized next year. But the most exciting harvest this year without a doubt is the pineapple. After two years, it's finally ripe! It was also on the small side, but so tender and sugary and delicious. And I get to brag that I'm eating locally grown pineapple. How many folks around here can say that?

Most everything has been harvested from the garden now, so I opened it up for the chickens and ducks to rampage through. The Brussels sprouts are the most popular, especially with Woolimina. She can skeletonize an entire stalk within minutes. As soon as they've eaten everything, I'll shut them out again and plant the cover crops for the winter. The only real failure this year was the delicata squash. For some reason, it never ripened. Apparently I got it into the ground too late. It looks beautiful and cheerful, but insides it's colorless and tastes really bland. But it won't go to waste - I cut them in half and give them to the chickens. Squash seeds are one of their favorite snacks.

I'm already looking forward to what I'm going to plant next year. I've tentatively decided the shining star of the garden will be leeks. I got absolutely addicted to making potato leek soup this summer, and rapidly used up all the ones I grew. So next year I'll need several more rows - at least. And we'll need way more potatoes. I also discovered that kohlrabi is amazing when you roast it with olive oil, salt and pepper. I grew a ton of it, thinking I could sell it with my other produce at the market down the road. But apparently its bright purple, slightly squid-ish appearance frightens people. Good thing I like it so much! The carrots were a big hit, though, so I routinely sold out of those. I'm particularly excited about a variety I found to plant next year - they're black! The seeds are from India, called Pusa Asita black carrots. It's a new open-pollinated variety that's jam packed with anti-oxidants, plus apparently it stains everything purple. How cool is that?

Is it seriously August already???

Dang, this summer is going fast. I can't believe it's been a month since I last posted! But in my defense, summer is my busy season... Perhaps the most exciting news is we have two new guinea chicks!!! I've been letting the broody hens (of which there are many) sit on the guinea eggs, since it makes them happy and most of them don't ever hatch. I have to admit, it's incredibly fun to gather them up after a month or so, then hurl them into the woods and listen to them explode. Way more entertaining than firecrackers, although just as lethal if you're standing nearby when the shell cracks. I'm surprised the smell doesn't scorch the earth.

Every once in awhile though, there's a fertile egg in the mix. I was sitting in my office one morning when I heard that distinctive plaintive cheeping that can only mean one thing - a cute little fuzzy bird is somewhere out there, and it's sad and lonely. So naturally I got out there as fast as I could and found a very confused, just hatched guinea chick wandering around in front of the coop. I'm amazed he made it out of the nesting box, but I quickly reunited him with his adopted mama. I moved little Stephano, White Mama (I ran out of creative names the day she hatched), and the rest of the eggs into the garage brooding facility, where little Giuseppe hatched the next day.

Just the other day, I head that same frantic chirping, this time coming from the garage. Turns out we had a hen sneaking in there and laying eggs in the corner. And then apparently sitting in there for a month, busily hatching out eggs. Makes me wonder what else is living in there. But anyway, as soon as the rest of the eggs hatch out I'll be moving that new family into the other half of the brooding box. I really don't want a bunch of chicks roaming and cavorting all over the garage. It's bad enough when Woolimina sneaks in there to eat hay and scares the heck out of me when I wander out in the morning to get something out of the freezer.

In other news regarding adorable critters, Porkulous the Precious is only getting cuter as he gets bigger. Usually that's not the case, but he's a rare pig indeed. Since it's been in the 90s for as long as I can recall, I put a deeper pool in his fenced off area. It's got about a foot or so of water in it, and he loves it. He'll lounge in there all day, and when I fill it up he plays in the stream of water. He also taught himself how to blow bubbles with his snout, which is just about the cutest thing ever. I can't wait for Gene to see him do it, because I'm sure the heart-warming sight will change his mind about that whole "I'm going to get me some tasty bacon come October" nonsense he keeps going on about.

It's alive!!!!

After a few weeks of absolutely zero fiddler crab sightings in our tank, I headed back to the feed store to procure a few more. I was thinking that adding a few more more might convince the other two to be a tad more social. And really, one can never have enough crabs.

The normal aquatics guy wasn't there, so I was helped by a sweet younger guy that unfortunately had an almost debilitating crab phobia. Every time he swooped in the tank with his net, the crabs would angrily scatter while waving their claws at him, and he'd visibly shudder. Every once in awhile he'd actually catch one, but it would jump out of the net and cause him to simultaneously jump away from their tank. After about 20 minutes, he decided it would be okay to skirt the company rules and let me just reach in and grab whichever ones I wanted.

I've always had a soft spot in my heart for crustaceans, but I fully admit that when I came home and swapped out the filters in the tank, I screamed like a little girl when Luigi came lurching off the top of the filter and onto my hand. Apparently he'd climbed up the filter hose and decided it made a fine home. Plenty of algae to eat, a dry spot at the top of the filter box, tons of privacy... everything a crab could want in a living space. At least now when he disappears again I know where to look first.

But Luigi isn't the only critter to come out of hiding around here. Now that I've started running the sprinkler in the evenings, I've noticed a huge increase in the number of dragonflies darting around the farm. I love to watch them hunt, and apparently they enjoy playing in the sprinkler. So do the robins and gold finches. They exhibit so much gleeful abandon when I turn it on that I don't even grumble when it takes me close to three hours to haul it around the yard.

Ceri, on the other hand, takes her sprinkler love to the extreme. We were so worried she was going to drown herself that we bought one especially designed for dogs. Of course, the box is covered with cute pictures of puppies playing in the water, but it definitely brings out the puppy in our 100-lb Shepherd. I'll turn it on for her during the hottest part of the afternoon, and she would play for hours if we let her.

Time to call in the cavalry...

As long time readers might recall, there have been a fair number of epic battles on the farm to date, include the Winged Ant Situation of 2011, the Aphid Wars of 2012, and the Great Horsefly Annoyance of 2013. And in the 8 years we've lived here, I've never had to bring in professional reinforcements. Until now. 

I was too scared to photograph the wasps. Enjoy some sunflowers instead.

It all started on a bright sunny day. A little too hot, but I wasn't complaining - the heat is good for the corn. As I watered the grapes, I felt something crawling on my hand. Being the seasoned farm mama that I am, I just nonchalantly tried to shake it off without actually checking what it was. That's when the burning started. And the screaming. The yellow jacket clinging to my palm didn't give up until I scraped him off with the garden hose. Lucky for me, Gene knew how to make a poultice out of meat tenderizer that sucked all the venom out of my hand, and kept my whining to a minimum. 

An amazingly accurate movie, as far as I'm concerned.

The next morning, I was out watering again since the temps were going to soar to almost 100 degrees. I wasn't all that worried since yellow jackets aren't exactly rare beasties in July, so it wasn't so surprising I'd disturbed one. But when I watered the grapes again, this time I heard a most disconcertingly loud buzzing sound from the other side of the raised bed. When I slowly peered over the top of the grapevines, I was horrified to see the entire ground moving. It looked like a scene out of The Swarm - no exaggeration. There were hundreds of them, all staring at me. At least, I assume they were staring at me. I was too busy running away to notice. 

Thank god for Google - I was able to find a wasp removal expert within minutes. I called the number, and he agreed to come out within the hour. I think my screaming "Save me from the beeeeeeees" the minute he answered the phone probably contributed to his sense of urgency. It was fascinating to watch him suit up and go to work, armed with an industrial sized Shop-Vac and a steely determination. I was going to contribute to the carnage by bellowing, "This time it's personal, die wasps die!" but my words wouldn't have had much impact considering I was hiding behind our truck the entire time.

Turns out there was a fairly substantial nest, complete with disgusting larvae, buried underneath the grapes. After taking the nest out and destroying it, he unsuited, then went back to vacuum up the stragglers. When I asked him why he wasn't afraid of getting stung, he told me that killing off all the guards "demoralized" the rest, so they didn't even try to defend themselves. Apparently my "get it off me" dance was just adding to the wasp's self esteem, and that's why I got stung so many times. Today I only saw a lonely yellow jackets buzzing around, and I made sure to let them know I've got the bee guy on speed dial.

Finally, we've got a little color around here!!!

For my 40th(!) birthday, Gene finally relented on his "edible plants only" stance and he and Bess Bess installed a huge butterfly garden in the front yard! It's beautiful, complete with watering, feeding, sheltering and basking stations - everything a butterfly needs at every stage of development. The yellow and black swallowtail has relocated from the back deck to the front yard, and was quickly joined by three happy bumble bees who spend the vast majority of their day buzzing from bloom to bloom. 

Naturally I've already taken hundreds of pictures, even though it's a little unnerving to stand close by when the bees zip right by your face in their haste to do some pollinating. Bess Bess did a ton of research on how to set it up, and decided on planting everything in huge swatches of color. It's going to be gorgeous once everything grows up.

In other news, I dragged Bess Bess to Petco with me to find some live plants my fish tank, and we brought home an African Butterfly fish (in keeping with my birthday theme). He's really cool - he hangs at the top of the tank all day, and eats live insects.

The feeding schedule has proven slightly problematic, since according to the internet he either eats several times a day, or requires "heavy feeding" twice a week. Either way, that's a lot of bugs. Since I've never backed down from a challenge, I've taken to prowling around the gardens with a huge fish net, trying to swipe bugs out of the air. When I stalk any wayward flies that blunder into our house, I'll even add a whispered audio commentary, just like the other famous hunters do on all those shows Gene watches.

While there's no lack of bugs around here, finding suitable sacrificial insects is tough. I refuse to feed him any beneficial insects, like dragonflies, bees, or butterflies. Likewise, anything cute and adorable is spared, like ladybugs and those bright blue walking sticks. So that pretty much leaves wasps and flies, and since the last thing I want is for an angry wasp to escape my net on its way to the tank, that pretty much leaves flies. I've since learned the hard way that flies can survive being dunked underwater, but at least chasing them around the house is good exercise.

I'm not the only fearsome predator out hunting dinner - in other amazing news, my preying mantis egg sac hatched! They're already huge, I saw one yesterday that was about three inches long. I was watering the strawberries right by the greenhouse and happened to spot her hanging from a leaf. They have incredible camouflage, and I love the way they sway back and forth while they wait for something juicy to wander within striking distance.

A pen big enough for two...

With the weather in the high 80s and worse, I decided that Porculous the Cherished would be happier out in the pasture, where he has room to run around and hide in the cool grass and other assorted flora. So Gene and Abby moved some panels into the back and created a huge pen, complete with mud pits, tons of hidey-holes, and of course a feeding and treat station. Gene even created a rolling gate by screwing two casters onto a pallet, so it's easy for me to go in and out. 

Porculous absolutely loves it. He runs laps around the fence perimeter, stretches out happily in the mud, and comes trotting up to the gate the second he hears me come out of the house. And even better, he's got a roommate to share it all with. Skeeter decided he'd much rather live here, so he found his way back from Abby's house two days ago. I didn't have the heart to take him back there after he went all Incredible Journey and found his way home, even though he decimated my romanescu and broccoli bed for the fifth time on his way back. (Apparently my addition of the fencing to the raised bed didn't even slow him down. Guess I should have spent more than $2 on it.) He came running up to me in the back yard, and was promptly greeted with head scratches, a bowl of kibble, and all the wheat thins he could eat. I missed him more than I realized.

It only took him a few hours to move in to Porculous's new digs. Now the two share dinner and treats, and lounge around next to each other in the shade. It's really cute, especially since they're almost the same size. Shy and Wool are both fascinated by Porculous, now that he's out where they can see him. Shy spends a good portion of the day just staring at him. Which is kind of odd, since they've both seen pigs before. Apparently Porculous is more interesting than most - just one more reason to keep him around! Now I just have to convince Gene..

I'm anticipating a rather large problem...

So now that our pork supplies have dwindled in the garage freezer, Gene decided we could raise another pig. A few days ago we camehome with 7-week-old Porculous the Tasty, and I've already fallen in love. He climbs in my lap and eats fresh watermelon, he loves apples, and he'll bury his head in a bag of frozen peas and corn. He also demands back scritchies and tummy rubs, and has the most adorable little snout on the planet. I don't care if he'll turn into a 900-lb boar if we don't butcher him, at least he'll be the world's friendliest one.

So needless to say, he needs a name change. I'm thinking Porculous the Adored, or Porculous the Cuddler. Right now he's living in the Bunny Ranch (more on that later), where he and I can get to know each other. So far he associates me with treats, since I never come in there empty handed. In about a week, we will put him out in the large fenced area, where he'll have a ton of shady cool areas, muddy areas, and lots of trees to rub against. Plus he can hang out with Wool and Shy, who both seem utterly fascinated by him already.

So if you're wondering where Skeeter and Mac are since Porculous moved into the Bunny Ranch, don't worry. They're down at Abby's. She decided to take them in after they decimated my raised beds in the front. Four times in a row. Not only did they chow down on all the veggie starts I'd sprouted from seed, they also ate through almost $200 worth of starts from my favorite garden store. So now I'm about two months behind where I should be, and Abigail is already harvesting broccoli. But her raised beds are covered, so they should be safe. And the bunnies are really happy - Mac has bonded with her rabbit, and it's fun to watch all three huge rabbits rampaging around her yard.

In other critter news, the pups are enjoying the heatwave we've been having. Ceri in particular loves summer - because she gets to play Sprinkler. When she looks out the window and sees me setting up the sprinkler (because this year I've decided I'm going to pretend we're the type of people who care about the front lawn - we'll see how long that lasts) she goes absolutely nuts. It sounds like an elephant is trying to knock down the front door. She could play in the water for hours, to the point where I'm almost afraid she might drown herself. She puts her whole mouth over the jet of water, and it sprays about a 40' radius. But I literally have to drag her away from it. It doesn't even work to turn it off, she'll just chew on the hose until more water comes out.

Chupi, on the other hand, has discovered a family of chipmunks living in a stack of pallets in our driveway. (They're decorative pallets, don't judge). He'll circle the stack for hours, peering through each level and barking whenever he sees one moving. To be honest, I'd rather they live in the pallets than where they chose to make their home last year, which was in the air filter of our Nissan. I found out when I took it in for an oil change and the tech came out and told me there was a nest in the filter, complete with mummified chipmunk. Then he asked me if I wanted a new filter. Is there really more than one answer to that question?

Anyway, the chipmunks don't seem to mind having a vicious predator lurking outside their home. In fact, I think they rather enjoy taunting him. And Chupi definitely enjoys the chase.

The first sign of summer...

Yesterday was spa day here at the farm, which is the first sign of impending summer, as far as I'm concerned. Both Shy and Woolimina got their yearly shear, and look much happier since it hit 80 degrees today. I did a little research beforehand, and discovered that this year's stylish Alpacas have opted for the Mohawk look - so of course that's the style Shy requested. He looks amazing. I'm even thinking about getting him a studded collar and some tribal tats. 

But believe it or not, new trendy hairstyles aren't even the coolest thing that's going on around here. No, that spot is reserved for my Crabitat! It came in the mail about a month ago, and I spent hours decorating it. Literally - hours. First I had to decide where in the tank to put it for optimum viewing, then came the flooring decision. After carefully considering all the options, I went with river sand, which is what they burrow into in their natural habitat. We constructed a rock grotto for when they feel like hiding, and put in some palm trees in case they're in the mood for an aerial view.

Once we got it arranged to my liking, I had to make a bunch of phone calls to track down some actual crabs to live in it. Apparently there is a world-wide Thai Devil Crab shortage (for real, several aquatics people told me no one can get them right now), so I had to settle for Fiddler crabs. Smaller and less colorful, but still plenty fun to watch. So Gene took me to the pet store, and after observing the crabs for far too long (according to Gene), I committed to two of them. Charlie and Luigi II came home in a take-out container, although Luigi II did try to initially make a break for freedom when he hopped out and took off down the aisle. Getting them into the Crabitat itself was a little disconcerting, because I had to hold them in a very loose fist, then gently shove them under the lip of the plastic dome. The way their legs skittered in my palm was a little shudder-inducing, but at least I only had to do it twice. Watching them explore the river and climb on the palm trees was great, they truly looked like happy little crabs.

Then, a couple days later, we couldn't find them anymore. Gene picked up all the hollow decorations and shook them, but the only thing he found was a very upset Plecostomus, who had been contentedly napping inside his favorite tree. I was absolutely heartbroken, and blamed the shark. Quite loudly, and with colorful language. So fast forward about a month or so, and both crabs reappeared! Apparently we bought them right before they molted. After shedding their shells, they dig a burrow and hide until their new shell hardens. Which obviously takes quite some time. So now they're back to happily skittering all over the tank, and I'm back to enjoying a show with my morning coffee.

Christmas in April...

Just like mine...

Today was a good day, for so many reasons. Gene surprised me this morning with a Blue Tooth headset, since I just got a new phone and was terrified of dropping it. (Free to upgrade, outrageously expensive to replace...) I also can't hold it up to my ear for longer than a few minutes anymore, and lord knows you need to block off some time for a conversation with Bess Bess... At any rate, now I can happily ramble around the yard while yakking on the phone, hands free! I'm still a little embarrassed to wear it out in public, and when my friend noticed it on our daily dog walk, I just sorrowfully shook my head and said, "I'm more machine than man now." And since I've gotten into the habit of bellowing "ANSWER IT" in my best Mortal Kombat voice, maybe I'll just wear it inside the house.

www.crabhomes.com

But that wasn't even the best thing. No, that came when I checked my email and discovered my latest can't-possibly-live-without acquisition is arriving via UPS tomorrow! Now that Luigi the crab has passed on, our huge tank is crabless. Normally that's a good thing to be, but in this case it's a waste of 75 gallons. When I was looking up what kind of crustacean to get next, I stumbled upon the "Underwater Atlantis", which is basically a bio-dome that creates a  dry space on the bottom of a fish tank. And the best part - it comes with a feeding tube, so you can drop live crickets in! Naturally I ordered the Cadillac model, although personally I would have called it The Crabitat. I'm already decorating it in my head...and sourcing out some occupants. Gene didn't even say no to a turtle!

And as if that wasn't enough excitement around here, I found a bird's nest when I went to plant this year's fuscia in the hanging baskets. Since we weren't positive if it was a new nest or not, I carefully took it out, potted everything, then put the nest back. It's quite a nice, festive nest, lined entirely in German Shepherd hair. (If I'd known a mama bird was in the market for some fur, I would have invited her inside to harvest our couch). At any rate, this morning when I went to carefully water the side of the basket the flowers are on, mama flew right at my face. I think I need to get a watering can with a longer spout...

Other than that, the only other magical thing that's new this week is sitting on my kitchen window sill, in the form of a couple of potted orchids from the clearance bin at the grocery (granted, it's not where all the other connoisseurs get their orchids from, but you have to start somewhere.) I got the first one a week ago, a gorgeous white one, for $3.99. On the way back we stopped and got her some proper orchid soil and a nice pot, only to get home and discover that if you re-pot them prematurely, they get "resentful". That's the exact word the Internet used. Thank goodness I looked it up first, since the last thing I need is a grumpy, ungrateful houseplant. I can't find a definitive answer for how you know they want to be re-potted, so I'm hoping they wave a sign. Then yesterday, on my way to the beer aisle, I happened to spot one last remaining orchid in the bin, now marked down to 99 cents. And if ever there was a resentful orchid... he did not look happy. But I took him home (yes, he's a guy), soaked him and his pot in some water, trimmed all the dead blossoms off, and he perked right up. I'm hoping this is my first step towards becoming an orchid farmer...

I know, I know. It's been awhile.

Four months in between posts is pretty abysmal, I admit it. But in my defense, my camera died. Surprisingly, it wasn't because I dropped it (I have now been relegated to plastic and Corelle dishes exclusively since I drop about half of what I pick up.) No, something happened to it internally, so the shutter only fired half the time, and the LCD screen shorted out. At any rate, as someone who can easily take 400 pictures a day, often of the same chicken, I was devastated by the loss. But about a month ago, Gene found a great replacement - not only does it take phenomenal pictures, it's also the lightest weight professional-level camera I've ever seen, so I can hold it for extended periods of time. To celebrate our new purchase, Gene took me to Bubba's and bought me a big bag of French fries, which we then offered up one at a time to the seagulls on the beach. He practically had to drag me away, even though I only got 712 photos.

Life on the farm, with a few exceptions, was pretty routine this winter. As usual, there were happy moments, like when I discovered a brand new greenhouse frog living in the orange tree, and heartbreaking ones, like when poor Hawthorne made the transition to a higher plane of existence with the help of a coyote. But truly, never has a turkey lived a happier, more fulfilling life. We also have further proof that Polish chickens only come in male, and have had to rename both Ms. Pepper and Mama Buffington (Dr. Pepper and Papa Buffington, respectively). 

Woolimina and Shy Shy are still the best of friends, and I'll periodically let them out into the front yard to eat the long grass. They have to be supervised though, ever since Woolimina took it upon herself to prune my Sugar Sweet cherry bushes into oblivion. Skeeter and Big Mack, our two remaining Flemish Giant rabbits, are also master pruners, to the extent that Gene is going to have to build some fences around the raised beds in the front now that planting season is just around the corner. I was weeding just this morning, and discovered they'd beaten me to the first plump, crispy asparagus spear I've ever grown, after patiently waiting three years for one to make an appearance. Not that I recognized it initially - I actually snapped it off, thinking it was a giant, partially gnawed weed. I never claimed to be an asparagus expert.

Things have been up and down in the world of indoor critters as well. Raphael the ferret passed away from some sort of brain problem, and I miss him quite a bit. But we gave him a few years pampered luxury living after rescuing him, and I'm quite sure he went to a better place, filled with blankets, plastic balls, and all the tunnels he could ever want to explore. Ceri has been diagnosed with hip dysplasia, even though she's not even four years old yet, but I'm confident we've caught it in time to be able to stall the progression. Now every Friday she gets water therapy, where she swims in a heated pool and gets a massage. She's definitely living up to her nickname of the $10,000 Dog, but she's worth every penny, even if she does hog all the pillows at night.

In aquatic news, Luigi the Thai Purple Devil Crab passed on, presumably from old age. But the cycle of life continues, in the form of a pregnant Amano shrimp we brought home from the pet store. We originally got the shrimp to help with the algae problem in the small tank, and the clerk was ecstatic when she discovered the shrimp had visible eggs. Shrimpy, as she likes to be called, was installed in her own special tank that sits on top of the 150 gallon tank in the dining room. And by "special tank", I mean glass jar whose former purpose in life was holding drinks such as lemonade and iced tea at BBQs. (Whatever, people, it washes). Unfortunately, there's quite a bit of contradictory information out there regarding the breeding of Amano shrimp (the eggs need brine! Salt water will kill the eggs!) And we must have gone the wrong route, because she no longer has eggs - plus she molted, which means she's ready to breed again, but there aren't any baby shrimp in the jar. So now Shrimpy is back with the boys, and I'm stuck with a jar full of baby snails of utterly unknown origin. They either came in with Shrimpy's water, or Shrimpy has alternative views on dating and we're now the proud parents of about 50 shrails. Right now they're about the size of a speck of dust, so time will tell.