I've said it once, and I'll say it again.

Homesteading ain't for sissies.  And neither is getting old.  So, if you're an old homesteader does that mean you are some kind of hondo-woman?  Hmmm.  Mehbe.  My mornings have been in a rut.  Get up at 4ish (can't help it, honest); let dogs out and (quietly) yell a Bernie to NOT rip down my fence to get at the rat trap.  Iron, knit, wash dishes, or whatever until 6.  Feed dogs/cats.  Walk dogs.  Check rat trap (always full - they are either stupid or in a rut, too).  Feed me.  Let out Chickens One and then Chickens Two (the Fricassees).  Feed and water same.  Feed goaties.  Feed sheepies.  Do a little bonding (iffy) with Camel-girl.  Water things. Pack lunch.  Shower.  Dress for work.  Put loaded rat trap in car and deliver to neighbor for part two of catching rats (don't ask and I won't tell).  Drive to work.  Where, I bet, NO ONE ELSE had to deal with rats before breakfast.

At least some of my chores will be lighter after Saturday.

Because of the fate of my friend, M's, Red Rangers, I did not put mine out 'on pasture'.  Too many varmints out there with blood in their eye.  So they have been living (cozily) in the smaller coop with a nice, safe fenced-in area.  This worked out well in the beginning but, as these meat-specific birds go, they are now lumbering around like small, feathered Godzilla characters.  I have been trying to train them to go into the coop at night by turning on the interior light to make it look all homey and welcoming.  I must be out of my mind.  Some do stagger up the ramp and go in.  Some go partially in, then think it's just a swell place to turn around and plop down in the doorway to see the sights.  Which completely blocks access for the rest of the ignoramuses.  So, every night for the past 6 weeks, I have been chasing the Stubborn 5 (as I call them) who refuse to go in, and heaving placing them gently in the coop.  Which results in much hoopla and banging around.  Then I turn off the light and all is blissfully quiet.  Well, Saturday is F-Day (as in Fricassee) and all but three are heading off to Kamp Kenmore.  I am keeping a breeding group because I will never EVER raise 15 again.  And, get this, I am participating the processing.  With my neighbor, the Lithuanian Lawnguy, and Kay.   They both have experience in this type of thing.  I do not.  But, not being one to back down from a new experience - no matter how gruesome it may be - I am taking responsibility for what I eat.  I get to do the plucking.  Oooooh.  Gritty details will be forthcoming.  But no pictures.  I may be a sissy, after all.

I've been robbed!

As if dealing with the 'spit-mobile' wasn't enough ugliness for the week, I came home to find that my lettuce had been pinched.  Eaten.  Gnawed.  Stolen from me!  Muttering about the terrible things I was going to do to the little buggers, I rounded the corner of the house to find -- they had eaten my parsley, too!!!!  (Cue in Elmer Fudd singing to the Loony Toon rendition of Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries - "Kill the Wabbit!  Kill the Wabbit!")

Thought this was safe in the coldframe - maybe the large, succulent
lettuce leaves waving ripely from their pot was just too
much of a temptation.

Radicchio centers - gone.

If you can bigify this, you will notice the nekkid parsley stems.

I have noticed that the rodentia population is rampant this spring.  I have gotten over the cuteness of chipmunks - all 500 of them - after they chewed down my sunflower starts for the fifth time.  I am beyond over the not-so-cuteness of the ratties (see #5).  I am now narrowing my sights on the dwindling cuteness of the army of rabbits that skitter across the homestead.  Of course, I know that rabbits + lettuce = they win/you lose.  That is why I planted my lettuce in a coldframe with 12+ inch sides.  They scaled the ramparts!  They also found the one little hole I missed that led them into my herb bed.  Ergo - scalped parsley.

Sunflower seedlings cut off at the seed (bigify if you dare - it's not pretty). 
However, Morning Gloriesmust not be on the
 chipmunk diet - they were not touched.

It's a good thing I am a morning person.  I had to squeeze in rabbit-proofing my coldframe and herb bed.  Just as I was ready to pat myself on the back for winning another battle, I came across my bee balm.  Something has eaten all the buds off the stems.  But wait!  There's more - some'one' had completely unscrewed the bottom of my hummingbird feeder.  What the...?!  I am thinking squirrels, as a bear would have ripped the sucker off the holder and smashed it.  Uncle already!!

For your viewing pleasure - the 6+ lb. piece (all one
piece) of matted, felted llama fleece that came off
of the mad camel on Monday.