Ferme aux pissenlits, a.k.a. Ste-Edwidge Farm, by Louise Martineau
Don't tell me the dandelions are already up in Quebec, Louise!
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Louise is still working on her cows; her son says her painted cows look like blobs.
However, Lou, that is exactly how cows DO look sometimes -- like giant blobs. So you're not that far off anyway.
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The vet advises us to put Chloe Doodle down. I've cancelled her Monday appointment to be spayed, in view of that fact, but haven't got the heart to make an appointment to euthanize her. She seems so happy, so lively, so glad to be here. It just doesn't seem right and we are having trouble taking that step.
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I was out on the back step at 7:30 this morning, black coffee in hand, wearing my fluffy white housecoat with a winter jacket on top, sitting in a lawnchair overlooking the slough, listening to the frogs and various birds including snow geese off in the distance. Gorgeous calm day, eastern horizon pink behind the trees; a flock of long-necked swans flew over my head.
Later, after a walk to the ravine with the dogs, I sat on a flat rock in my herb garden and listened to the birds calling to each other all around the yard. It's heaven, I tell you.
I didn't sing it then, but often do while out walking around here:
