An Afternoon at Second Life Farm

The cabin at Second Life Farm.

We enjoyed a brief respite on Sunday afternoon when we drove up to Second Life Farm, not far from the Kentucky line, to visit and eat and soak in the scenery. Located at the end of a long gravel road, Second Life's farmers enjoy privacy and solitude. The homestead there is quite charming, forty-some acres of gently rolling fields and woods, bounded by streams, occupied by our friends and their pack of canine characters.

Almost as good as the food--which was fabulous, and the company, were the antics of the dogs. One little guy claimed my lap nearly as soon as I settled onto a couch, then spread his paws over both legs as if to indicate that the entire territory was his. Later, when someone snapped a photo of "Alf" on my lap, a graying lab-mix immediately launched herself onto the couch. She promptly curled up against my hip, them turned to the photographer as if to say, "Take my picture, too!" Funnier still was how, as soon as the flash went off, she launched herself back off of the couch--her photo opportunity complete. It had never occurred to me that a dog might want to sit for a portrait.

A canine-human conversation-in-progress.

These canines are well tuned to their human companions, and attend to the conversation flowing around them monitoring for mentions of food or other items of interest. Our afternoon was enhanced by the pleasant, four-legged residents. Indeed our few hours away were a delightful respite.

Thank you, friends!

The Alpacas' Arrival

The alpacas arrived Sunday evening in the pouring rain and heavy darkness. With tornado warnings in the forecast, Malcolm was happy to deliver the animals into a shelter with a barn before he headed back to Thistledown Alpacas. Luckily our houseguests were eager to get soaked and came readily to lend their hands. The girls went up easily: Malcolm off-loaded Vann & Goldie Rose on lead ropes and little Spencer trotted right along with his mama. The four boys were a little trickier. Each of us took one on a lead then headed up the steep, slippery drive toward the barn. After having been cooped up since Virginia, the animals were eager to stretch their legs and capered along as we worked to keep up. Once everyone was settled, we exchanged paperwork, got feed instructions, and sent Malcolm on his way.

Although I had begun to have second thoughts about having purchased these expensive animals (which I had been careful to do while I was teaching and had a regular income), now that they are here I feel great. These soft, gentle creatures are a handsome addition to our pastures. Plus they play with the goats readily—chasing the little animals about the pasture without causing me the alarm that a similar chase by puppy Luther stirs up.

Welcome, camelid companions!

One Weekend on the Farm

This past weekend was simply delightful. Not only did we accomplish much but we had plenty of help and fun in the process. Friday evening set the tone for the weekend when we sat around the living room socializing with relatives and friends. Topics ranged across current events, our personal histories and philosophies, politics, farming, and just life in general. Laughter permeated the air and the atmosphere was friendly and gay.

Saturday began with blueberry walnut pancakes and more visiting, then we all headed outdoors. We had a neighbor and his brother cutting trees up by the barn in preparation for the pool house and its solar heating needs. I mucked about with the goats as always, then spent my time concentrating on readying some two dozen containers for fruit trees and bushes. (I may have mentioned before that our farm rests atop a large rock shelf. Until we have had time to build up the soil to a point where we can plant directly into the ground, we're using containers and raised beds exclusively.) Others worked on organizing boxes, wood, farm implements and garden tools, and building shelves. Lunch provided time for socializing over sandwiches and fruit. Dusk found us again by the barn, surveying our progress and enjoying the sunset. Day's end meant the comfortable sleep that comes from physical labor.

Sunday dawned warm and beautiful. I had high hopes for getting plants in the ground--especially with the forecast of winter weather returning. The others accomplished more, actually completing their tasks. Days end found me simply covering roots with damp compost and leaves with burlap or blankets. Having help around the farm and others with whom to laugh and talk lightens the workload considerably.

Thank you, Friends.