Take Joy!

Three Little Goats and a Bucket

Nicholas; Junior and Rosita; and Junior braving the bucket alone, but for a misplaced guinea . . .

Girasoles

These are Jerusalem artichokes, also known as girasoles. I prefer that name, since they have nothing to do with Jerusalem, so far as I know, and they aren't artichokes. They don't even taste very good, in my not-terribly-humble opinion . . . they're edible, but that's about it.

But, oh, aren't they beautiful on a foggy morning like this one? Late summer gold . . .

Here's a closeup. I'm amazed that such simple flowers  make such a lovely display.

We had (have)  a row of them in back of the house, but they're not bloomed in the five years I've been here. They've gotten shaded out by the maples and wild cherries, and they just get leggier every year. I'd been meaning to dig some of them up and set them out in the garden, in a no-very-much used spot, but I'd never quite gotten around to it (like so many other things . . . ).

This year, however, they have transfered themselves to the front bed somehow. This is the bed where the big evergreen came down, and where we are planning to plant some peach seedlings (which have spent the summer in a big pot, apparently happy as clams). Now, however, we have a row of girasoles and a single black raspberry bramble . . . which will stay right there just as long as it pleases, since the ones we planted in the garden all died . . . this one had berries on it in the spring, and they were good. I ate them, every one.

Me?!?

I've been nominated for the "Nice Matters" award by Susan at Blackberry Creek! Susan says, "This award will be given to those that are just nice people, good blog friends and those that inspire good feelings and inspiration! Those that care about others, that are there to lend support, or those that are just a positive influence in our blogging world!"

I'm more than flattered; thank you, Susan! After all, I blog mainly because I'm too lazy/disorganized to keep a normal paper journal. And there's the sad fact that my handwriting is going from bad to worse . . . if I actually wrote things down on paper, they would certainly be safe from prying eyes. Mine, too, after some time had passed.

No, really, I do enjoy keeping a record of what I was doing, what sort of things I accomplished (because I usually feel as if I'm not getting anything done other than feeding things), what various animals were up to, even what the weather was like. And there are the friends I've found through this blog—I don't get out a lot, for one reason or another, and blogging keeps me in touch. And it's just fun!

Now, as to my own choices for this award . . .

Kai, of Creating My Way, is a self-proclaimed "crazy Commanche" and queen of the glue gun. She's making friends (well, sort of) with the sewing machine and documenting every step and mis-step.

Tess at Anchors and Masts writes beautifully about friendship, spirituality, and community. She always gives me things to ponder as I go about my day.

Lisa of Chasing Grace loves books, movies, music, photography, and life in general, and writes about them all. Along with the charming and elegant Siofra, of course.

Nan documents life in her kitchen and garden, along with what she's reading and listening to, in Letters from a Hill Farm. (And this week she has some of the most gorgeous daylily photographs you've ever seen.)

Thyme for Herbs—Marie blogs about her garden and her life, with lovely photographs.

Now y'all can take this ball and run with it—I must go and give Alfred his nightly bowl of babyfood chicken.

Babes in the Goat Shed

Bella had her kids late this afternoon, after a great deal of bleating and groaning and fidgeting around all day long: one is brown and gray, like Momma, and the other is black with white ears and a white nose. Here they are, just minutes old.

The gray blob in the left hand corner is the goose, sitting on her nest. . . I've been hoping for the past couple of weeks that she'd decide to set, so when does she decide to, finally? Right. And in the corner of the goat shed, too.  And she refused to move.

Until things got going well: when little goats trying to walk stepped on her tail, she left, huffing and twitching her tail, and went to take a bath in the pond. She came back later, with the gander, and moved the nest and eggs over three feet or so. The old nest was apparently defiled and no longer usable.

Here they are, two hours old (more or less). All nice and clean, and they've both found where the milk comes from . . . and both "talking" just like Bella does. She's the most vocal goat I've ever seen heard. And she looks as if she's smiling . . .

And here, the new ones meet Uncle William, who gave them each a lick (and a promise?) and then went off to eat some straw. I have no idea whether they're male or female, and I don't want to bother them tonight to find out. Stay tuned . . . we will attempt to find out tomorrow. (and please, please let them be girls . . . )

Beauteousness

Here is an absolutely gorgeous photograph of the Tellico River . . . he always has lovely photos of the mountains (plus musings, reflections, and interesting miscellania of one sort or another) on his blog, ruminations from the distant hills, but he's outdone himself with this one. Definitely worth checking out!

Forest Beings

This is a blog I've just discovered, by way of the Endicott Studio blog. Forest Rogers is a NIADA member, a maker of the most exquisite figures I've ever seen, and an illustrator as well. I'll be checking her blog on a regular basis . . .

Emma and the Pumpkins

Lara sent these to me yesterday. Here we have Emma helping Brian carve the jack o'lantern (one of them; they have six, I believe, down by the road). 
Note the John Deere apron, please . . . made by yours truly. Emma loves heavy equipment.

And apparently she also loves scooping glop out of pumpkins . . . Look at me! I can make a lovely mess and no one minds!

(Brian called today to let me know that her costume arrived safely . . . he left a message that featured Emma saying "thank you" in Chinese!)

Visitation

The eldest and his family were up yesterday . . . yes, she's wearing pants and he's wearing a skirt. (Actually, it's not a skirt, it's a utilikilt, but the chance for that sentence was too much to resist! Brian's comment was that in Asheville, no one looks twice at a man in a skirt. Which is pretty true . . . the local bumper sticker is "Asheville: where normal is weird.")

We took a side trip to Barnes and Noble to get Emma some new books (and us big people some new books, too, of course: John bought several novels, I bought Brian his own copy of The Artist's Way and David Allen's Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity for me. Brian swears it will make me more organized. We shall see.), and then went to Asian On The Go for lunch.

Prime entertainment, as usual, was the goats. (It was still too muddy to take Emma in to feed the chickens, particularly since she had on lovely pink shoes. Next time.) Grandjohn took Emma in to see them, up close and personal.

Frank thought she was just wonderful: someone with food, right down on his level!

She even petted him . . .

Then we went back in and played with Banana's two stuffed alligators, and reluctantly sat still for a picture or two . .

Then I took a nap. Getting Things Done, indeed.

Childhood Bears

Kai posted a photo of her childhood bear (Smokey; I had one of those too, but he is LONG gone), and Judi one of her doll . . .

Alas, my early dolls are long gone also: there was one I only remember as Lucy; she had dark hair, blue eyes, and a corduroy bathrobe that matched mine. And a Betsy McCall, the little one with the jointed knees.

I wasn't much for dolls. . . but here are my bears!

Brownie (on the left) was made by my great-grandmother out of brown corduroy when I was two-ish. He had ball button eyes, of which only one is left, and was stuffed with a mixture of kapok and cotton batting. (We won't discuss just how I know this, will we?) Kissy was my Christmas present the year I was two. (There are pictures somewhere of the two of us: I am a small chubby girl with dark ringlets, and he is a shiny new bear with both eyes and all his fur. As I recall, I also received a tin mechanical monkey bank and a straw purse with a lid like a hat that slid up and down the strap so it wouldn't get lost, but Kissy was by far the crowning glory of that Christmas.) He, too, has only one eye left (my oldest son Brian bit the other off and swallowed it when he was a baby), his paws were replaced in the 70s, and he looks as if he has a terminal case of the mange, but he has been my boon companion for all these years.

New Jester

This is my newest Finished Object . . . made from Julie McCullough's "Jess" pattern. (I do love that one!)

Here's a closeup: