Monday Assorteds . . . .

Wet pastures are now doubling as landing zones for the big birds of spring.  This pair touched down in our second pasture yesterday, only to be told by some other honkers to keep their distance. 

The other honkers were occupying the same pasture space where Mr. and Mrs. Mallard Duck have been hanging out for the last couple of days.  

Apparently the original goose duet had come to a land-use agreement with the ducks, and scaring off other invaders was part of the deal.

I also saw crows flitting about in that same area, but they seemed to be avoiding any upclose and personal encounters.

In between NCAA games and commercials and halftimes and all that stuff, I spent time outside with the dogs enjoying the pleasant weather, even did a little burning of dead grass along the lane. 

Meanwhile, it was a triple watering day inside the greenhouse where almost everything is up in the pots.  The pansies came awake from the deck dormancy a week or so after I moved them to the greenhouse, and right now, they're lookin' pretty good.

And, then there's the manure pile of spring and the pup and the constant, "Yuck, Liam, quit eating that!"

Liam turns deaf when he goes to the manure pile west of the barn.  And, that's the first place he goes any time he comes out of the dog run. 

You'd think we were starving him to death the way he tears into the goodies that make up the pile. 

I have come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter how well-bred, sophisticated or blueblood a dog happens to be:  it will still eat poop. 

And, every time I see any of our dogs feeding off the manure pile, I tell them to stop and realize they're all deaf in that particular setting. 

It's really bad across the way from the barn where over the winter I dumped the contents of Festus' kitty litter box. 

Talk about a step up in fine dining, Liam loves that spot and still goes there every day after I have covered it with sod, then covered it with hay, then covered it with branches. 

Dog noses know where to rut, and Liam usually stays there until he finds a tasty nugget of kitty-style almond roca. 

And, while we're into the reality aspect of a bucolic existence here in beautiful Selle, I've included a photo of dirty Lily.  This is what we get to see for several weeks while the mud in the barnyard takes forever to dry up. 

Unfortunately, while the mud in the barnyard takes its time drying up, thanks to rainstorms like we had overnight, the fields/pastures stay so soft that the weight and sharpness of hooves carrying 1,100 pound would ruin the sod within hours. 

So, the horses have to stay in the barnyard until the ground hardens up, and grooming is usually in vain the minute they roll in the manure-filled mud.  

So, we just deal with it and seldom show off pictures of our pretty horses looking like pigs. 

It's all a part of spring, and as disgusting as it gets at times, we still chuckle about dogs eating poop and horses rolling in it.

Busy week ahead with relatives coming to Sandpoint from Chicago and Annie coming Friday night just in time for us to watch the ZAGS play in Chicago. 

Happy Monday.  If you have dogs, be glad you don't have a manure pile!