Hay! – January 2, 2021

Another day of ice and snow, but no wind, so there is not much damage.  Temperatures hovered around freezing and maybe a degree or two higher, so there was some melt, but for the most part, it is still a magical ice kingdom here.

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There were many birds.

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Marmalade showed up right on time for breakfast.  He has a stare that always makes me feel inadequate.  I am never prompt enough with the food. After breakfast, he left me a dead mouse in the shed – a serving suggestion, perhaps? I do appreciate the rodent control.

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I turned the horses out, and, as usual, Oisin dove into the hay.  Stone is not quite as greedy, and Bart decided to search for a few blades of iced grass.

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And speaking of hay, the New Year improved with an unexpected call from Kevin, the hay man.  He was going to be in the area, and wondered if we would like some more hay.  I had been thinking about calling him, but didn’t want to be a pest, so this was very good news indeed! We are such a small account that we are low priority for his excellent hay, and feel lucky that he sells hay to us at all.   With horses at home, there is always a low level concern about having enough decent hay on hand. Now, I am pretty sure we can make it to Spring.

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At lunch time, there was a thump as a goldfinch hit the glass door. I dread that sound, and it doesn’t happen as often as you might think, with so many birds about. But there are occasional casualties. I looked out, and there was a live bird, minus a few little feathers, but it was stunned and panting. As I watched, it began to close its little eyes and fluff its feathers. I was pretty sure it was going to die, but it was cold. I cannot stand suffering. So, I fixed a box with some rags and opened the door. The poor little bird made no effort to escape, and I picked it up and put it in the box, putting the lid on for privacy. I called Melissa, who is a bird whisperer, and she suggested that we put the box in the basement where the temperature would not be too drastic a change. We left it for an hour and went down with some trepidation, expecting the bird might be dead. When I touched the box, there was some commotion. We took the box outside, lifted the lid, and watched with joy as the goldfinch flew off to find its flock. A good omen, I hope, for the coming year.

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Mistletoe might be scruffy and ferocious, but she is very dear to us. And speaking of dear, Harry and his Weedy boy rest after a long day of adventures and sculpting.

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Finally, in closing this evening, a bronze fox on ice…

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Stay safe, stay well.