The work on the farm is mostly routine: milk the goats, process the milk, make cheese, pick berries, lead the goats down to pasture, do dishes, help with supper. However, every once in a while, things get exciting.
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| Pictured: the ant's new home (I'm wearing my mask from today) |
The first exciting thing happened two days ago. It began as a simple project: moving wood from a pile by the forest to the back porch. We had a nice assembly line going and everything was fine… until we found the ants. They were massive, black, spindly-legged creatures, crawling over the wood, swarming up the wheelbarrow, wondering who in the world was disturbing their (freakishly immense) nest. They weren’t aggressive, but they did bite, and it hurt when they did.
Till, seeing that there was no way we were going to exterminate a nest this big, suggested that we move the rotted wood a few yards away, and try to get the ants to move with it. Simple enough. I wisely remembered to tuck my pants into my socks before we began the project.
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| This was after I brushed off well over half the ants. |
Within minutes, there were so many ants swarming on my feet that I could barely see my shoes. They raced up my pants legs, onto my shirt, heading for my jugular vein to put an end to me… okay, maybe that’s a bit dramatic. But it’s no exaggeration. Every three or four seconds I had to pause to swipe my hands over my thighs, knocking the encroaching horde back to the ground. I couldn’t look at my feet because I would freak out too much. Alejandra and Shanie approached at separate times, but had the same reaction at seeing my feet: a horrified gasp, followed by, “You are covered in ants!”
I wish I had a picture of that flood of insects, but I certainly wasn’t going to strip off my socks and shoes, get my camera, try to put the ant-infested items back on, and then take a photo. I love you, readers, but not that much.
At last we moved all the rotted wood, and I tore off my shoes with several involuntary shivers. I wanted to save my socks, but there are so many dead ants still clinging to the cloth with their rigor mortis mandibles, I think my stockings are beyond hope. Rest in peace, penguin socks.
Today, our unusual project was much more pleasant, even though we had to put on masks because of the dust. It involved cleaning out a stone outbuilding, putting in fresh straw, and then herding the resident peahen (female peacock) into it. The reason? She has babies! Five little peacock babies! Now she has a safe place to raise them. I thought I was going to die of girly cuteness today, even though the chicks aren’t any cuter than a baby hen. I managed to snap a few photos of them.
I enjoy milking and herding and cheese-making, but it’s nice to have a change in activity every once in a while. Even though I was lucky to escape the Ant Incident alive.
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| You can only see three here… the other two were straggling. |
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| The fifth baby is hiding beside her breast. |
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