nature morte : still life (I don't think so)

Today five months ago, one of our goats had her first romantic encounter, but no sign of kids yet. I can never remember if the gestation is supposed to be just over five months or just under. I hope her first labour goes well, I am always a little nervous, but it is rare that there are any issues. The little male kid that was born just over a month ago died, though, despite the cutest rabbit ears on the planet, sadly. His sister is a lovely strong thing, a joy to watch hopping around, she does not walk, ever.
Today I agreed to go on a mini marathon in Dublin in a few months, raising money for a good cause in the meanwhile. Well well well, that should be fun, 10km that you can walk or run. Funnily enough, I like walking on asphalt, even though I do get blisters, but I did grow up in the suburbs of Paris moving into the city in my teens, and did I walk there late at night after the last metro. I liked the freedom of being able to just walk home not having to wait for a lift. When you farm you hardly ever walk for the sake of walking, you walk somewhere loaded with hay or straw or struggling with a wheelbarrow or tools. But I have been trying to put a little walk into my day of late, an almost daily two-kilometre, to think in a dynamic way, clear some thoughts, looking at the slight changes in the vegetation, the newly sprung buds on the briars, the catkins on the willows, spring is near. Yes. And our early potatoes have all gone in, already, athough it was a fruit day I think.

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