June 10, 2011

I Spoke Too Soon

Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome. Isaac Asimov

Yes, things are back to normal on the farm. I guess last week's positive perception of things was just a dream after all.

Upon arriving last weekend, we found all our lovely chickens, raised from babies, once again massacred, this time by a weasel who entered through a hole about three inches in diameter. That night, we set the trap near the cinder blocks in front of the coop. In the morning, the bait (one of the dead chickens) was gone, the trap was about 15 feet away (on the left in the green bushes in the following picture) and it had been turned on its side so that an opening was created for the dastardly critter to escape.

So, the chickens are gone.

In addition, yours truly managed to disable two mowers.

The neighbor's well-beloved German shepherd, Raza, went to her eternal rest after 20-plus years of a good life raising all the children in the area.

It was 100 degrees the day I needed to harvest perishable items for sale in the CSA in town. (They didn't look too good, needless to say.)

The Missouri river is experiencing historic flooding, closing our route to the farm (but not affecting our land -- silver lining there).

And when we got back home, Maya's new bike had been stolen.

Given all this, I'm beginning to understand why all our farmer friends are always so cheerful. You simply have to laugh to keep from crying.