After finishing the cleaning chores, getting the rooms done and the beds changed, dishes washed and vacuuming, then the outside farm chores begin.
But there are two visitors today, and both stay in excess of an hour and a half each. The first is a friend and his family, salt of the earth people, with only kindness and love in their hearts for each other and others in the world. These true friends are those sorts that one hopes for in a lifetime, and considers oneself most fortunate ever to have found. The man takes 6 dozen eggs home, turkey, goose, duck and chicken, to set in the hatcher. We will exchange hatching for hatchlings in the future, a win win situation for both of us, since I do not have an incubator and he does not have eggs. The second man has come to assess the influx of beavers and the damage they have done to the natural stream. They have doubly dammed the stream so that it barely trickles where it once flowed and flooding has occurred where there was once a meadow. He carefully regards the beaver hut, the size and location and tells me that it will be no less than 15 beavers who dwell in that hut. He will shoot the elders and leave a pair. The dams, and there are two, will have to be dynamited to restructure the flow of the water, and he does not do that part. The beaver carcasses will be left for the dogs to feed on and it is good, clean meat since beavers are herbivores. This is all good. Beavers, at one time, were over trapped, but now are again overpopulated and a nuisance. Farmers now have the right to do away with the beavers to return the use of the land to meadow rather than slough.
Then, after a nice hot bath, my son and I went to a friend's home for dinner, and what a dinner it was. This friend was a gourmet Red Seal chef and treated us to duck with lime cilantro sauce, wild rice, and trimmings, plus salad, soup and desserts to die for. I came home to find the dogs wanting their dinner, so fed them and bid them adieu until the morning. What a blessed day it was, a day at the Fat Ewe Farm.