The first big tomato is... Stupice

Those smaller ones are Ukranian balcony tomatoes, and the big convoluted one is a Stupice. (Dumb name for a good tomato.) Below, a garden shot from the roof. I was up there today talking to a hot-tar guy. My other roof bids have been for installing a membrane roof, and I'd prefer the traditional tar. We'll see if we can afford it. I hadn't realized that tar, being a petroleum product, is not cheap these days.

That's me and the roofer looking down at Savannah looking up at us.


Earl's Bad Day

Earl want back to the vet today. We thought he'd broken his broken leg again, considering the fuss he made after being ejected from the couch Saturday night. But noooo. The vet was very diplomatic. She said he was sensitive. The big baby. He'd been chewing his splint and toes, though, so they rewrapped the leg and sent him home with... the cone.

C. put it on him and he took off yelping and immediately got stuck in the dog door.

I maneuvered him free and he stood on the steps feeling pretty low. I carried him in and put him on the couch, where he humped up sulking.

Just after I took this photo he barfed all over.

He hopes we've learned our lesson.


In other news, we're watching M's two Sulcata tortoises. They're installed in the boy's bathroom. They are fierce and animated creatures who zip around their pen and ram each other. Check out Dewey's spiked legs and jagged shell, below. He's about the size of a bike helmet, and quite heavy. If I were a carrot, I would be afraid.

Visitors

I'm a private person, so it's a little unsettling living in a formerly public building. Nearly every weekend this summer someone has stopped at the gate to peer at the old place. and tell me a little about their school days in the 1930s or 1960s. I'm standing there sweaty and dirt-streaked from hauling rocks or pounding fence posts, but I'm interested in what they have to say. I love this place, too. They are always very nice and stay for just a few minutes. If the place was in better shape and I didn't have biting dogs I'd give them a quick tour. I can see they'd like one. Maybe next year.

Last week it was Elsie and Dave from Portland. She went to first through third grades here in the late '30s. She's 81. She said the place was in much better shape the last time she was here, in the 1970s. It was still a public school then.

Today it was Shane and his wife, from Sacramento. He went here in 1966 and '68. He says we should hold a reunion for all the folks who went to school or worked here. That would be awesome! Maybe everyone could bring photos from their school days. It could be an annual thing (that some outgoing person would organize).

We have a whole lot of work to do before we could hold any kind of event here.

In the meantime, I'll keep an eye out for folks stopping at the gate, and go over and chat with them. I should get some kind of guest book so they can leave contact information or recollections. And some kind of sign that says "Elk Primary School, 1936-1977. Now a private residence." And if I start to get uncomfortable I'll close the gates.

Late July

Annie the dachshund killed two of the guineas. Connie White-Wattles and Connie Middle-Wattles. My fault – I failed to protect my birds.

Annie is now required to lay two eggs a day, eat grasshoppers and cry, "buckWHEAT!" I am trying not to hate her.

We have pickles! C. has put up the first batch of bread-and-butter pickles, made with our onions and summer squash. And we should have lots of cucumbers coming on, so it might be a pickle year.

Flock member

He's made a great show of standing guard and leading the way, and they've decided he can stay. But the Connies are twice his size and brook no nonsense, so he'd better be respectful or they will eat him like a grasshopper.

Weekend is done and there's still so much to do. Working to keep up with the garden. C. has another batch of pesto in the works, and is drying all kinds of greens for winter. (The rabbits like dried beet greens, which suits me because I like beets.)

The sheep and the camel (we forget what he is sometimes) are lonely since I moved them. They liked to hang out in front of the school near the dogs and the garden. Tricks liked to tease the dogs, too. It's quieter with them on the far side of the garden, and they still see us nearly as often. They're OK with it as long as the grass holds out.

The sheep get grain at dusk, and they are greedy little pigs. Savvy (on the right) has become really friendly over grain. She's quieter than Tricks, and less flighty and puckish. She really likes to have her chest scratched.

Earl is still in the splint, and sounds like Pegleg Pete the pirate coming down the hallway (step THUMP, step THUMP). And one of his ears is sticking up and looks like it will stay that way. He's so full of quirky personality he could do standup. If we encourage his bad habits maybe he could get a reality TV show.

It's Mr. Boynton

Meet guinea No. 5. He hails from Chewelah and enjoys grasshoppers. He is a Scorpio and a team player. Connie was suspicious of him – he looks naked and is a stranger – and ran him off, but he hung around and made protective noises and eventually they accepted him on a trial basis.

He is people-shy so my photo is lousy, but you get the idea. Angelic rodeo clown. We're thinking of painting him camo style so the owls don't get him.

In other news, the sheep and Azul have been moved to a new tiny pasture near the guineas. There's a little decent grass there (plenty of knapweed, too) and I'm going to seed the old pasture with a mix of grasses and grains. We'll have to water it - it's been 90 degrees for what seems like a long time - but anything we can do to improve grazing and fight knapweed is a good thing. I'm glad we have only a few animals. The sheep will eat some knapweed, but the alpaca says no. I see buying hay (and maybe sprouting fodder) in our future. Next year we'll fence more and start earlier.

Housewise, we continue to unpack boxes and improvise shelving in the gym and studios. Still can't find the cheese grater, among many, many other things.

The garden continues to grow green and tall. C. put some Chinese cabbage in the freezer for winter stir fries.

I need to work on the vandalized electric system and install the central vacuum, but it's too hot. Feh.

Maybe we should call him Lucky...

Poor boy. He has carpal valgus, a deformity of the front legs where the two long bones grow at different rates, leaving his legs crooked and painful. We won't know how crooked and painful for a few months – the bone growth might even out and he'd be fine. BUT he's also broken his right front leg (jumping off the couch). So now he's in a splint for a couple of weeks. It's awkward and makes a thump as he walks. 

And he gets car sick. He drooled all the way to the vet and back. It's hard being Earl. Second breakfast will cheer him up.

Poor Earl

There's something wrong with his front legs. So much for hybrid vigor! The vet is working on a diagnosis (birth defect? old injury?). Meantime, he limps around and his front legs (especially his right) are painful and swollen. He is a handsome 15-week-old. I want him to go bounding through the fields, like a normal puppy.

We turned the guineas out into the garden for the first time, and I watched to make sure they didn't wipe out the crops. Yes, some bean leaves were eaten, but for the most part they pecked at seeds in the mulch and looked for grasshoppers. That's Mrs. Davis on the left looking creepy (it was getting dark).

I've got the chicken/guinea house nearly done - we put the weird skylight/roof units up this weekend. We scrounged them from an old greenhouse in the lower field, along with a bunch of the framing. The siding is recycled cedar from Craig's List (free is good). It's not beautiful (I practice bad, slow-motion carpentry – and despite the practice, never get any better. Or faster.) but I think it has a funky charm. I'll get the yard fencing up and move the girls in, maybe tomorrow after work. A shed-roofed leanto or porch will go at front right. And I'll build doors for the front and the wide clean-out opening toward the garden.

(Jack was supposed to pose nonchalantly on the stool, but decided to do a headstand instead.)