Spring has…sprung

I can tell because of a greenish hue covering the ground everywhere, which is a promising change from the dusty brownish blackish gray we’ve grown accustomed to. Since we’ve never seen the land in spring, the prospect of grass and green leaves is very exciting, so exciting in fact, that I even find the baby cactus rather charming.

More charming than this are our cows who have discovered the front 5 acres of the land. Although mostly forest, it borders the neighbor’s yard where a lonely, full sized cow resides. Today we found them staring intently at each other through the barbed wire. I’m certain they were having two very different thoughts at this moment, although all parties seemed shocked by the other. While the regular cow was singing “All by my seeeeelffff, don’t wanna live…,” Seamus and Matilda marveled at the sheer size and wonder of what appeared to them as the world’s Most Giant Cow.

I kept myself busy wandering through the woods collecting rocks suitable for our imaginery fireplace that Jeremy reassured me will someday go inside of a house. He suggested I begin this project, and since I’m kind of a sucker for these sorts of meaningless tasks I happily trotted into the woods in search of “perfect fireplace rocks” (Anyone know what those look like?). This job is right up my alley since I spent lots of time as a kid collecting rocks on the railroad tracks behind my house. But I don’t want to give away too much about my exciting childhood, so we’ll save that story for another time. By the end of the day, I made great progress, probably too great, seeing as I’ll have a lovely fireplace ready about 5 years too soon.

Jeremy’s goal has been to clear a path from the potential homesite for a view of the “pond,” a term I use loosely as it currently is more of a dusty pit in the middle of scrub. Obviously, we’re being optimistic. This work requires the chainsaw, the tractor, and miscellaneous tools that I ask too many questions about which leads to the suggestion that I “go build a fireplace.” So he does the clearing alone, is the point I’m trying to make. And works hard enough, apparently, to require a midday nap right there in the dirt with the scorpions, fire ants, and his trusty sidekick.