A diary of the projects, hurdles, rewards and family life at we recorded at Wise Acres, our former homestead in Horsefly, BC. (Careers and teenagers have forced us back into the city, at least for a little while.)

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

About a step-dance, a boot-lace and a foot-race

If you were to deduce by my two-in-a-row postings that Joanne is away you'd be correct - she's off with the girls in Vancouver while I work, nay, toil away here at the homestead.

By day I'm accompanied by conference calls and IM dialog, and my evenings are being spent finishing the shed I'd started a few weeks ago. Today I put in the floor. Although from outside it may have sounded Mike Holmes-ish, inside was more Michael Flatley. (I only measure once, and then not-so-delicately convince the wood that I was right all along.)

For company I'm typically joined by the other 'girls' - Grabby-Ella, Hungry-Ella and just-Ella (who I suspect was swapped at birth, because she's actually the grabby one - which is why I now double-knot my boot laces). They can be distracting though, and I blame them for the power cable I sawed through last night.

At one point I heard Violet yip - it was an odd sound, as she normally growls deeply if she hears dogs in the distance. I went to look for her, and found her about 30 feet from the house, standing face to face with a deer about 10 feet further away. The deer was nonchalantly chewing on lupines and arctic paintbrushes. I called Violet, and she came to me, sitting promptly (and, to be honest, quite impressively) at my feet. The deer chewed. Violet started out toward it, but I called her back, and she (again, most impressively) sat at my feet. The deer visibly changed it's attitude though, as if noticing me for the first time. It actually seemed a little afraid (it had obviously never seen me run before). My first thoughts had been "Violet's really quite a good dog" but that was quickly replaced, when the deer turned around to leave, with "stop you little ..." as Violet bolted. I should have grabbed her collar. I will next time. I swear.

It was almost comical to watch - Violet runs like a thoroughbred, gracefully hitting the ground with powerful strides - I love watching her - and the deer hopped off like a bunny: boing... boing... boing... and yet, the deer clearly outpaced Violet. I don't think Violet expected it. The deer was gone within seconds, and Violet zigged and zagged across our property for an hour trying to figure out how it got away.

After all that I settled into a late dinner of eggs the girls provided from the coop, a salad of greens and radishes from the garden, and a nice IPA from the store. Call it the fruits of my labour - well, I know I paid for the IPA with my own money...

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