The snow is vanishing, the little patches of yellow-brown grass increasing. I can see bits of my garden again, but the potholes in our laneway have returned with a vengeance. Spring. Maybe? I can hope.
Two days til we head on our family trip south. Tomorrow is three weeks since the fire. Living all together is still going well though the kid squabbles seem to be on the rise.
The farm show yesterday was fun and I went looking for info on something I've been considering for the farm ... wait for it ... goats. Very much intro-level preliminary 'am-I'-mad' sort of looking. And I came away thinking it just might work. I mean, any animal that loves to eat weeds would find our fields to be the epitome of fine dining. It does seem like a feasible venture that we could start on a very small level and then expand (or not) as we wish. That's one nice thing about livestock; let nature take its course and you do end up with more than you started with. But I'm glad we have lived here for a while now (almost three years!) and I have a pretty realistic view of these things, and we will tread carefully into new things here.
I keep thinking of the "Lonely Goatherd" song from The Sound of Music. ledl-odl-edl-odl-eh, hee-hoo! *sigh*
The more I learn, the more I know that there is much I do not know. I'm not sure if someone said that, or if it's a paraphrase, or if I just made up something new and very witty. But it's true, whatever the source of that little bit of wisdom. D and I said right from the start that we would proceed slowly with things of a farmish nature, knowing that we could, very easily and quickly, get waaaaaay in over our heads. And being tall as we are, that's saying something. So bit by bit, we think and plan.
And we keep looking forward to spring.
April showers bring May flowers ... March showers bring mud.