It's Good to Touch the Green, Green Grass of Home

A little over a week ago, I got a phone call that our daughter Jenny had dislocated her right shoulder.  Was she doing something brave like diving in front of a speeding train to rescue a stray dog?  Or was it a patriotic war wound sustained in the defense of her nation?   Neither, I'm afraid!  It happened when she tried to hit her husband with a throw pillow!  (Although I guess a wound received in starting a pillow fight could possibly be considered combat-sustained . . .)

As a good mother, what did I do?  Did I tell her to pick on someone her own size--or at least aim better?  I did not!  I hopped in my car and drove to Ohio to help with cooking and cleaning and driving.

Tuesday I drove back home and arrived in the late afternoon to a warm welcome from Misty, Zephyr, Hero and Herb, in that order.  (In Herb's defense, he was in the office.  The dogs were all in the driveway.)  After patting, hugging and kissing everyone (depending on their species and hairiness), the first thing I wanted to do was go out and see all the animals.  Here, for your enjoyment while you read, is an oldie-but-goodie about how good it is to come home.

Elvis - The Green, Green Grass of Home

Here's my welcoming committee trying to get their act together.

We'll just have to settle for three out of four.

The turkeys (in front) have obviously abandoned their suicidal behavior and begun to grow and get more feathers.  The keets (hiding in back) are just as shy as ever, but much bigger and more guinea-shaped.

The barnyard gang is enjoying a bit of grass that has bravely raised its head.

As soon as they heard us come outside, the Home Pasture gang began clamoring for food.  They make quite a racket of "mwak, mwak, mwak, mwak" from Ping and "baa, baa" and "bleah, bleah" from Rambo and Obama.  It truly does sound like one of the wethers is turning up his nose at something, saying, "Bleah!"  It must be the nice, green grass because it sure isn't the chicken crumble!

Walking through Kara's Pasture I was greeted by a cluster of daisies under a cloudy sky, promising more April showers and more May flowers after the 4+ inches in the past few days.

The creek is running full coming in from the hunting preserve to join the pond overflow.

Sara and Siobhan were over by the cabin when they saw us coming.

Siobhan came hurrying to greet us, already licking her lips in anticipation of treats.

The horses came to meet us at the electric gate, but when Brandy shooed Julie away to a respectful distance . . .

... it turned into a mad gallop around the pasture.

While Herb started the grill to cook us some lovely grass-fed steaks, I went out to enjoy the heavenly evening light that sets everything aglow for just a few moments.

Carpe diem.