Wednesday morning Phil burned many of the roots Butch pulled up last year. Because of their radial growth, roots don't shred easily, so he spent an hour or two burning a huge pile of them.
He then went to chip some more saplings to make room for the orchard. Our durable, made of metal chipper has a plastic starter. The plastic starter broke. So he spent several hours researching the part needed, the place to take it to (thankfully there's a dealer in Scottsville). Although he remained in good spirits, it was a wasted day.
The animals, having spent much of the last few months on an ever-deepening bed of hay, happily chew their cud further afield.
Rachel Bush came by briefly with her two children and sister. They loved the kids, who jump and kick.
Embarrassing for me, though, was Annabelle's tale: we think either she cut it, or was having some sort of bloody discharge. She appeared in good health other than a bloody hiney, but how unpleasant!
And THEN, poor black ewe Isabella had a large bald spot on her side. It looked to me like Annabelle had caught her with her horns and tore off the hair. Mortifying! Thankfully the skin wasn't broken, but two animals in less than stellar condition—no good.
While I was taking the gardening class last Saturday, Rachel took my place at the pruning workshop. She brought me a gallon of unpasteurized apple cider, which, I think, is one of the world's special treats. Rachel never comes to visit without bringing a gift. I could learn from her—that is sure a nice practice!.
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