Fragile Beginnings

A Brown Thrasher made this nest in the Reed Canarygrass along the edge of the pond.  Spring rains raised the water level until the nest was over water instead of over land.   I thought it would be interesting to see if the fledglings could fly away without drowning.  But we will never know, because something, probably a raccoon, waded in the water and took the eggs.

Chaos is too light of a word to describe the homefront.  We got Citygirlfriend and boys moved in Monday.

Tuesday, I drove Citygirlfriend and boys to Madison to have Shepherd’s tonsils removed.  Tylenol, or Tylenol with Codeine, every three hours ‘round the clock.  We lost his antibiotic.

Thursday was Gameboy’s fifth birthday.  We had my parents and a couple of friends over to celebrate.

Oh, and the remodeling isn’t finished.

I guess it’s time to let go.

I took Citygirlfriend to a farm conference this past winter.  As we listened to the speakers, I told her to watch for the voodoo.

“What do you mean, voodoo?”

“Everyone has some special product or technique they think makes all the difference on their farm.”

“Oh, and what is your voodoo?”

“Probably something I’m not aware of.  I like to think I don’t have any.”

“Then how do you think things grow?”

“God, I guess.”

One Response to Fragile Beginnings

  1. Vikki Ferguson says:

    Those eggs look more like a red winged black bird’s eggs, rather than a thrasher. Thrashers do not have scrawls on their eggs, just tiny dots and spots, which cover the surface of the whole egg..

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