I have a new partner when I go outside on my twice-daily checks on the animals. I’m the only person Zip will follow into the pasture, and I must admit I like having him around me.

He walks around like a mafia boss, checking his land and holdings. It’s another cold and dark day, but it is warmer; the snow is melting, and the mud season is here early.

We had another extraordinary Zoom meeting this morning; I am so lucky to have such a warm, decent, and loving group. It was one of my best ideas ever.

Today, I’m at home with a lot of writing to do. Walking through the fog and mud with Zip and Zinnia with two cameras, I took great pleasure.

Maria and I have built a wonderful life together on the farm, and I am grateful for it every day’

Zip swatters around the sheep in the barn as if he owned the place. I wouldn’t be surprised if he did. The sheep are amazed by him; he loves to stare them down.

The forest looks deliciously spooky and mysterious in the fog.

There is a lot of feeling in the fog.

The sheep have made their path through the ice and snow to the back pasture. There are still some weeds to feed on back there. The sheep never stop looking for grass. Not yet dears; there are a couple of months to go.

 

Zinnia is terrified of Zip, who swats her in the nose whenever possible. I think he wants to play or maybe dominate. So far, the only thing that spooks Zip are the noises of trucks thundering on the road. He doesn’t like the sound. But the noise keeps him well away from the road.

Fog is beautiful here; the landscape turns ghostly.

Sheeps are stoics, they accept the world as it is.

 

Zip walks with me out to the pasture. He is King Of the Hill.

The imperious hens are out of the roost, waiting for bird seeds to drop.