It has been more than two months since I returned to Donegal. Clearly, it is time for some new photos.
Where I Am Update: Still in Gaoth Dobhair. Still on the farm. Still surrounded by mountains and gorgeous, beachy coastline. Finally made it out to Glenveagh National Park, twenty or thirty minutes away. Our first attempt at hiking down from the back of the park, we got caught in a good deal of rain and had to turn back after only about half an hour. The second time, though, we got a cool, crisp day and made it all the way down into the glen where the gardens and the cafe and the 'orangery' (with birds of prey stationed in front) are.
What I Am Doing/Animal Portraits Update: When I first arrived back at the farm, I found that everything I had planted or tended in the summer had grown to an edible size. One of my first jobs back was to dig the potato crop we planted the first week I was here. The blight got a fair few, but our take was still rewarding (the photo below is a mere fraction of our harvest.)
We also returned to the bog to collect some of the turf we'd stacked into little footings back in June. Remember in my first Donegal post when I mentioned the possibility of being swallowed by the bog? Well, it happened. The boys were trying to get the quad out of a muddy rut just minutes after we'd arrived. I took a small step back to get out of the way and sunk right down to my hip in icy bog water within about a second, letting out a surprised yelp on the way down. Someone gave me a hand up, we got the quad free and I squelched through the rest of the afternoon with one numb, soggy foot. At least the views are nice from up there.
The weather has turned since those sunny summer days and some days all I can really do is feed and milk morning and afternoon, simple tasks complicated by the very real possibility of sliding down the muddy hill on my bum or losing a boot in the muck while trying to jog to the pig trough. I'm happy to say neither of these things has happened more than once.
Like the vegetables, many of the animals had grown considerably in my absence. Some of the wee ducklings and chicks were nearly full size, and a new batch of Rhode Island Red chickens had been introduced to the mix. Even Wee Stripy made an effort, though she was still considerably smaller than the other young hens. At least she looks like a chicken now. Barn Cat didn't grow at all, but she did lose some of her initial shyness. Murphy had seven doughy, perfect Jack Russell pups about ten days before I got back, but quickly tired of their incessant need for food and attention and left them to their own devices whenever possible.
Unfortunately for some residents of the farm, growing to full size just means you're ready for the chop. I have maintained a healthy attitude about this, not getting too attached to the animals I am likely to see on my plate, even the ones that have names. I am often reminded of the lyric, There's nothing strange about an ax with bloodstains in the barn / There's always some killin' you got to do around the farm. So far, the only killing that has actually happened on the premises has been poultry; the pigs go to an abattoir but are sometimes brought home to be carved up.
Blue Saw Update: There are still blue saws everywhere.
Gallery of Cute Update
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| Barn Cat died of mysterious causes a couple of weeks ago. She disappeared for several days, her food left untouched, and we assumed a fox had gotten her until she appeared in the stable one day, lifeless but without a scratch on her. RIP Barn Cat. |
