Spring is here - definitely

Two irrefutable proofs that spring has arrived : the native wildflowers are blooming and the gnats are pestering. Not to mention the daffodils are peaking (and the crocus) plus the forsythiae are opening. There may be further cold spells but on the whole, the seasons have turned.

The recent full moon (shown here setting just before dawn a few mornings ago) is the first of the planting moons and Mr. Fuzzy has been at labor in field & garden. Shown below are his very white jeans, coated in powdered lime from spreading on the lawn. There was perhaps enough in ears and nose for another 100 square feet of lawn had it been possible to easily extract it.

 The coltsfoot (Tussilago farfara) is in its greatest glory right now. The Cherokee and early white settlers (and farmers here) have used its medicinal properties for time immemorial. It has a quite queer life cycle with the bloom dying before ever a single leaf is produced by the plant. I cannot think of anything else with similar character.

 It would seem that beaver have made their appearance along Longman Creek. Every tree felled by massive incisors has been an ironwood tree (better known as hornbeam outside of this region); one must wonder what asset of said tree is so valuable to the rodent. Mr. Fuzzy observed many beaver trees in the West but never anything like this one, cut at so many different heights; it is not easy to fathom a beaver tall enough for the uppermost gnawings. Can any of the erudite readers of this blog enlighten Mr. Fuzzy about this? I thank you most kindly in advance.

Mrs. Fuzzy left Mr. Fuzzy in charge of her feathered charges; he may have failed as those that normally sleep rough (not in the coop) seem to have vanished which vexes him greatly. However, Mr. Fuzzy is glad to report that all of the wee chickies are thriving - this from today. Amazing how fast they grow.

And I leave you with Jacktar taking his restorative catnap, having been thrown out of whack by the initiation of the infamous Daylight Savings Time.

Under the Full Moon

The modern Cherokee name for the full moon of March is "Ah-nv-yi" and that certainly describes today accurately. The wind was never still and gusted to at least 21 mph. The majority of the day was cloudless and would have been exceedingly pleasant at 55F had the winds not played havoc. Gardeners are getting itchy fingers here in Floyd county and many have put out their cold weather crops. Mr. Fuzzy intends to do a little planting soon himself.

Since Mr. Fuzzy has lately been a traveling man, he may have missed the precise moment of opening but the witch hazel is now in full bloom. Most of the daffodils are now in their radiant glory although because of the occasional frigid night, some have thus far withheld their shameless displays of beauty. Greater bounty awaits us.

Well now...

Where did those photos get off to? I made the last post from my new smartphone and they showed in its' web browser. Mmmm. Will have to see what's up.

In other news.... we have chickies!!!

Over the weekend I built a makeshift brooder coop on the back porch and installed 16 Buff Orpington pullets and 10 Americuna (hopefully) pullets. An old timer at tractor Supply showed me how he'd been taught to sex chicks by behavior and all ten do the "girl thing." (Cross your fingers!) There are Orpingtons in the flock I'm keeping for the neighbor and they are lovely birds. The Americunas are an Aracuna cross bred to lay larger eggs. They lay blue and green shelled eggs so, if all goes to plan, the eggs I sell will be a mix of white, tan, brown, and blue.

Because the brooder coop is decidedly NOT a Fort Knox style structure Mr. Rufus has been put to work minding the coop at night. With the aid of an electric blanket set on high, he seems to really enjoy his work. Indeed, he seems to understand that he's doing a job that I consider very important and has not barked without cause (admittedly, "cause" was a cat) any night he's been out. He'll continue to sleep out until the chicks are big enough to go into the main coop.

Perhaps Mr. Fuzzy will post some photos for you. Right now I'm packing for a long overdue trip to visit my mother and brother.

Playing Catch-up

Greetings, devoted reader.When there is much to tell there is no time left in a day to tell you of it. When there is time then there doesn't seem to be much worth telling except chicken jokes and, really, there is only one real chicken joke but it takes a couple years of living with them to understand why it IS a funny joke.

Spring has officially arrived as of last week when, after an eight inch snow, we received a warm rain two days in a row. By "warm" it should be understood that this is a mountain scale warm and not a desert sort of warm. It was 66 degrees Ferenheight. We may still have some minor frosts but it should now be safe to plant out brassicas , peas, and lettuces. (Provided we can exclude the chickens...)

Much of my time has been turned over to the task of reducing the volume of fabric in my sewing room. Few tasks promise to be so daunting and pleasurable at once. Already, I have one quilt about to go on the frame and three more at various stages of cutting and design. There are also a few simple clothing projects in the works.

Included below is a picture of the weather station on that rainy day and another of Jack and Lilly in their roles as devoted sewing supervisors.

Old Man Winter

What a surprise - the only real snowfall of the winter began Sunday morning and ended in the night sometime. About eight inches now blankets Stratheden Farm although, surprise, the forecast high for today is 50F. Mr. Fuzzy will let the sun clear the driveway rather than Mr. Fuzzy and the Ford tractor... There would have been more depth but the ground was warm and when the storm began, the air temperature was right at the freezing point. Had Sunday morning's reading been say 28F, another three or four inches would have accumulated.

Sunday about 4:00 p.m. snow was falling at a furious rate.

By sunset, about four or five inches had fallen.

And here are the views at sunrise this fine morn.

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

The Creator sure has a sense of humor! Mr. Fuzzy's last post was on the subject of an abnormally early spring, with all things green erupting from the warming earth. Last Sunday morning, the mercury was stuck on 11F at sunrise, after a night of gale winds roaring through the forest. The chill factor was sub-zero. Sunday's high reading was 26F, still windy.

The arctic front began its onslaught early on Saturday. From 8:00 a.m. onward, the temperature dropped lower with each passing hour of the day - and with the high wind extracting any remaining warmth from the earth. As Mrs. Fuzzy discovered while departing for a few town errands about five o'clock that evening, egress from the farm was prevented by a 60 foot white pine tree laying across the driveway. Mr. Fuzzy fired up a chain saw and worked until the light faded but was unable to open the passageway.

On Monday morning, with chainsaw in hand, Mr. Fuzzy finished opening the track by finally removing the top half of the tree. However, the butt end of the tree, about thirty feet in length, remains above the road on the  steep hillside. This is a dangerous working situation as the trunk will be want to slide downward; it is very difficult to know which branches anchor it in place. Mr. Fuzzy will be very circumspect in whatever work will be done.

Since exiting Stratheden on Sunday was yet prevented by the blockage, the Fuzzies, with the consent of their neighbor, left the farm by way of his field. He had recently caused a first class fence to be erected, replacing an ancient fence long beyond any real service for its intended purpose. The new fence contained the addition of a strategically placed gate - which allowed the Fuzzies to join the normal Sunday breakfast crew at the Blue Ridge Cafe, without resorting to walking to town in subzero chill factor conditions. Huzzah for the gate!

Floyd County Values

The Fuzzies attended the Friday night music at The Floyd County Store last eve. As usual, three bands play about an hour each, all for a $5.00 admission. The sequencing of the musicians is ordinarily (and so it was last night): Gospel, Old Time for dancing and Country Dance. Although the main draw for the Fuzzies was Janet Turner, a 70-something sliver haired local woman with the voice of an angel, the final band, The Jugbusters, was a wild romp of of a string band who sure knew how to lure folks on to the dance floor and keep them there.

But this is a digression from the topic at hand... Mr. Fuzzy is so very bad about that.


As the music & merriment was about to commence last night, before all else, a benediction was invoked. As best recalled: "Lord, thank you for bringing us together in brotherly love and affection to share our music, bless the Crenshaws for providing us this place, and we ask you deliver everyone here safely back to their homes. Amen." That's Floyd County - humble, thankful, succinct, inclusive, sincere.

A couple of weeks ago, I was talking to Mrs. Crenshaw (who I believe is English) - she and her husband own The Country Store. She related that an English couple in attendance one Friday night had told her about their eight week motorcycle tour of the United States. The tour was nearly over, they were headed tot he East Coast and thence back to Great Britain. She told Mrs.Crenshaw, "We spent eight weeks looking for America and didn't find it until we came to Floyd." Mr. Fuzzy says "amen" to that, and hopes he does not live long enough to see it ruined.

More kudos for Floyd County. You recall the recent link to the Smithsonian article? Lonely Planet, publishers of the Fuzzies' favourite travel guides, in their new release, 5 of the USA's Best Trips, begins with Virginia's Crooked Road. The Floyd Country store is one of the landmark stops on that road. Y'all come dancing, you hear?