I planned to do some Christmas shopping afterwards and maybe even some decorating at home. It didn't happen. I came right home after dropping Mama off and then Bruce and I took a walk with the dogs. I don't have a single hint of Christmas anywhere at Frogpond -- in fact there are still three cheerful orange pumpkins planted solidly on our porch rail. They are very pretty, but I suppose that it's time for them to go. A large box of flower bulbs delivered from UPS also sits on the porch, waiting to be planted. I'm feeling just a little overwhelmed to have autumn still so very much in evidence even as Christmas looms largely on the horizon, not to mention springtime flowers impatiently waiting to be planted. Behind as usual.
However, I digress. As I said, Bruce and I took a walk and I was able to check in on several things. Captain Jack was out strutting with the hens and appears to have settled in well. He's an absolutely stunning young rooster. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Dorothea!
We then walked around the pond and from there, down to the lower pasture. The llamas and a single cow were on the side of the dam. They stared suspiciously at us and we did our best to converse with them. Llamas have a habit of making strange noises, but only when you turn your back on them. Face them, and they are utterly silent. Interesting creatures.
And, lest anyone thinks I forgot, here is one of the small mountains of llama poo that I was talking about. I must admit to having to get down very low down in the grass in order to make the pile look even remotely like the mountain that I previously described. But, still, it's sort of mountain-like. Right? And the llamas really do run and back up to it to do their business. Mountain or not, as rich as this stuff looks, it's definitely going on the compost.
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