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Although I've spent the first few weeks in our new homestead holed up inside
avoiding the ticks working on finishing my book (it WILL come out this year! Writing is HARRRRD, youguyyys!) I've still had ample opportunity to become acquainted with the insane amount of random wildlife that hangs out around our house.
I kinda thought buying land would just mean buying land. More grass, some chickens and lots of porch sitting.
(Cue the universe laughing in my face.)
(And then striking down a tree to drive home the point.)
This has been a transition filled with the unexpected, both weather-wise (two worst words in the English Language: flooded. basement.) and wildlife-wise.
We have a barn cat who serenades us nightly from its…erm…studio (??) with the delicate sounds of mangled trumpets at an American Idol cast-off party. (Eventually I'll get it on video and all of our eardrums can be scarred for life.)
This barn cat, for the record, is a total hussy (or hustler, as we haven't yet ascertained its gender). While we haven't discovered any kittens yet, we have witnesses many of its “dates” hanging around the porch swing.
I do have some sympathy for this cat, as it can't be easy bein' sleazy. I've been feeding it intermittently with some wet food mixed with a little of this food-grade diatomaceous earth (for worms) and some herbal goodness from the famous Molly's Herbals to try to keep it as healthy as possible (we also use the herbal wormer for our goats). If it's gonna hang out on my porch, I'd prefer it not bring its hussy-cat diseases with it.
And it has thanked me many times over the best way it knows how: by regurgitating mouse carcasses across our front porch. (Hopefully they're de-wormed mouse carcasses.)
Now, we knew from the beginning that there'd be barn cats. But after this weekend's wind and storms, we've found a few of the most unexpected and random living things I could have imagined.
This is why we never go barefoot outside: there are dinosaurs in our yard.
Actually, it's a common snapping turtle. I guess it's not “unexpected” in the sense that I didn't think these relics existed around here. That'd be like moving to a golf course in Florida and being surprised about the alligators.
It's unexpected in the sense that…I didn't expect it. Idunno. I like to be prepared for everything. I like to be the one who waits for the known rather than the unknown. I'd rather say “hey, let's go outside and look for turtles!” rather than “wow! I just had my pinkie toe snapped off by a turtle!”
Pinkie toes are very important. Without them, we'd have nothing to make putting on Vibram Fivefingers impossible.
And speaking of the random and unexpected…this morning I found a tiny lobster on our patio.
I was watching Barn Cat from the kitchen window. It was playing with a large blob of leaves that had fallen during the storms. Then, the blob of leaves began punching Barn Cat with its pinchers.
“That foliage has claws!” I thought to myself. And then I sent a text to my husband. It said: we're moving.
It's just a crayfish, but how the heck did it get on my patio? And do I lose my Paleo-card if I don't eat it?
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