Morning has broken, 16

A quiet Sunday morning here at Busy Solitude Farm.  Except for the birds.  They are madly building nests, then doing what's (ahem) necessary to fill those nests with eggs that will grow the next generation.  Quite a lively, quiet Sunday.

* * * * *

Around the place, anticipation builds for the arrival of eight new chicks on Tuesday!  There have been no further losses from the barn, so the babies will go into the isolation pen, under a heat lamp, to begin their lives of busy solitude.

And the grass is knee-high due to the old lawn tractor's ailing health.  If it doesn't get mowed soon, I'm going to lose Ulani out there.  Promised returns of last Tuesday and last Friday both fell through -- once because it was not fully fixed, and the second time because the repair place's delivery truck broke down.  If I didn't know it would make Ulani absolutely crazy to have something grazing inside the dog fence, I might break down and get a cow.  Or a couple of mini-donkeys.  I've always thought I would enjoy having mini-donks. 

Instead, I try to refer to the yard as my meadow and leave it at that.