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A Donkey and Daffodil
Groundedness, farm-style
Wrapping up a whirlwind month, I present a donkey and a daffodil. Elenia looked rather serene yesterday evening, working her way up a hill of dirt. In juxtaposition to the beautiful yellow harbinger of Spring, it was an idyll too good to miss.
Everyone is in good stead for the most part, with the horses still shaggy from their miserable winter of wind and wet and the donkeys just a wee bit more furry than usual. Everyone is poking about, looking for the new grass during the day and escaping under trees, boughs, and block shelters come evening to avoid the inevitable dousing. This has been an extremely wet winter here in Ireland, which probably has much to do with this behaviour.
We’ve spent the time hiring out another skip, filling it with the various bits of detritus and junk that the previous owners left through their “management” (implied very loosely) of the farm. In most cases, we’re simply cleaning up buried trash, the remnants of a casual dismissal of custodial responsibility for the land. In others, we’re cleaning the house, getting ready for those moments that come next, out with the old and refusing to backfill with more junk.
Hay and straw were delivered yesterday, and the barn was restocked for the next month. Our new process with the horses involves bringing them in each night…
