Christmas From the Archives

Two weeks to the day with this new knee.  Definitely some ups and downs and days of thinking, "when will this get easier".  But I'm inching forward with mobility.  Nights are not restful; side sleeping, even with a pillow shielding that new knee, is tricky.  I have a machine that bends my knee, and invariably when using it during the day I fall asleep in the thing.

Probably the worse part is I haven't seen my donks or clucks for two weeks, except in passing on the way to the doctor or physical therapy.  I'm missing my hugs and kisses and perhaps even Ruby Dee's pecks on the ankle.  But with snow and a bit of ice on the driveway now is definitely not the time to be brave and wander forth, cane in hand. 

Because I have no news or photos for you, I'm pulling some pics out of the archives.  Christmasy, winter scenes that make me smile.

Here's a classic.  Santa, Natural, and me.  Several years ago. 

I think I will miss that boy to my dying day.

I remember this day distinctly.  A snowstorm kept me from going to work, so I grabbed my Nikon and trekked out to the donks.  

Luigi, Gabby and Fran

Fran reluctantly getting into the Christmas spirit

Gunner

Dudley (whom we lost two months ago)

There you have it.  A few snippets of years past.

I'll try to return on a regular basis, although I'm not sure what stories I can bring to the table before I venture out to the critters.  But I'll give it my best shot.

And no, you're not allowed photos of this glorious knee!

A Brief Break

Dear Readers, Friends, and Chonkey (donkey + chicken) lovers,

News from the non-animal world is this:  I'm getting a new knee tomorrow and will be unable to compose the witty and engaging stories from this little world of donkeys.  When I am able to sit comfortably at the computer, I will return.

Just so as not to leave you empty-handed, however, I'd like to re-introduce you to the hooligans who live next door.  You've met them before, but since they are making their voices/demands heard more now than in the summer, you need to mark these faces carefully in case they hooliganize your neighborhood.

   
I don't think the neighbor names her bovine babies, so I do it for her.  Naturally, the names speak volumes for my creativity.

From left to right above:  Old Blackie, little Blaze (Big Blaze was moved to another property last year) and New Blackie.

Here you have Whitie and Mama Cow, with little black baby nestled in between.

Sadly Whitie left the property next door in November and I don't know whether he was sold or moved to the neighbor's other property just a couple of miles away.  I miss him.

These cuties have me well trained.  They bellow at me for carrot treats and let me know when they've run out of the round hay bale she provides to ensure I throw some hay over the fence for them.  They'll just stand at the fence, stare at me while I'm with the chonkeys and bellow.  So far they've run about a 50% success rate.

Although in this picture Mama Cow looks to be the epitome of a good mother, I questioned her maternal care.  At maybe the two to three month point, Mama Cow would be at the fence waiting anxiously for a handout and Baby would be nowhere in sight.  But, Baby seems to be thriving so I could be casting aspersions without correct data.

All for now, I must finish my list of chores before tomorrow arrives.

'Til later.