Bringing in the hay, new schools, and baby turkeys

Some of the guys who work on the farm next door dropped by yesterday to mow our grass and bale it up for winter feed. We've been stressing about this, so it was good to get it done.

You would think that grass is pretty simple stuff, right? The rain comes, the grass grows, the cows and horses eat it, and that's all.

Wrong. The rain came, the grass grew, and while the animals were eating part of it, the rest of it got rank and nasty. Then the rain stopped, and the grass went into distress, went to seed, and became bitter. Pretty soon, we had 20 acres of rank and bitter seed stalks, which aren't good for anything at all. Nothing will eat it, and the plant won't rejuvenate while the seed head is still attached.

Grass management is tricky. People around here think it's easy, because they've been doing it their whole lives. I like to think that I provide some amusement for them: There he is, Mister Big-Shot Engineer from America, thinks he knows everything, yet he is completely clueless about how to manage grass. Bah.

Anyway, it's good to have local help, and people are always good-natured about providing it, as long as I make it clear that I am anxious to learn. By nature, people are happy to share the things they are good at.


Levi loves his new school. Weston School's philosophy is that learning should be self-motivated and largely independent. This works well, especially for kids at the extremes of the spectrum. Levi's teacher is from Dallas, but she had the accent smashed out of her when she went to college in Northampton. Those Massachusetts people don't take any Texas guff. Even in New Zealand.

Levi says, "My school is full of bullies. Well, the school is not exactly full of them, but there could be a whole room full of them. But when I say room, I mean there are some rooms that only have five people in them. Yes, but it's good. The bullies aren't like the ones on the Simpsons, though. They're just annoying. They come in packs. They ignore you."

Those are some sophisticated bullying tactics. We're still trying to sort this out.


Just this minute, Levi burst in to announce that Matilda the Turkey has had another clutch of baby chicks! There were eleven eggs. We went out and counted four that have hatched so far, but there will probably be more as the day progresses. (Levi now tells us that there are six!)

Matilda is amazing. She chooses a place that is sheltered and secretive for her nest. She lays one egg per day until her nest is full. The eggs are alive during this time, but not developing. Once she feels she has enough, she says goodbye to her family, and starts incubating. She sits on them for four weeks, only occasionally getting off for food and water. That's devotion!


If you look at the picture long enough, you might be able to hear her sing to the babies.