For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been gazing longingly at the huge, empty fields I drive by each day. Some of the fields I see have cattle grazing. One field had ducks grazing (…and may still have ducks grazing, but the grass has grown into an ocean that would engulf teeny duck bodies). A lot of the fields, though, are empty.

As I drive by these empty fields day after day, I think to myself: “If one of those huge, empty fields were mine, I would fill it with furry sheep, milky goats, and guarding llamas! It’s not fair that someone else should own these fields and not use them!” I then pout a bit and start to scheme on how we can convince our neighbors to sell us a bit of their unused land.

The thing is…those fields _aren’t_ empty.

They are (or were until recently) extremely full.

About a week ago, I noticed that the grasses in many of these empty fields had been cut and turned into long, drying windrows of sunny green*.

Those fields are hay fields.

My drives past these fields during the last week have been like watching slow-motion animated flip cards. One day I’d drive by the fields full of tall, dark green grass…the next day the grass was cut and drying….a couple of days later the grass was hay–rolled or stacked into bales…then finally the bales were gone and the fields bare. I never see any farmers, and the strange multi-pronged machinery is always silent when I pass, so it seems to me that this change happens on its own.

Now when I pass these fields, my lust for the seemingly empty fields is replaced by drooling over the luscious, fresh hay. “Oh, how I wish I had some of that hay! Why, if that hay was mine, I’d stack it up in my barn to feed furry sheep, milky goats, and guarding llamas when winter comes!” Mmmmmm…hay.

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*Slightly poetic aside: I love drying-hay green. There are tons of greens around here, but drying-hay green is my favorite. In reality, the sun is sucking up the moisture from the grass, but it seems to me, instead, that the grass sucks up the sun.

Today I whipped out the scythe and started to go to work on the front yard. I seemed to do better once I got the hang of honing the blade regularly as I worked. And there I was, really getting into the swing (haha) of things when…the glue on the handle decided it did not want to work anymore. Now I need to search the entire house for where I put a 2 fl oz bottle of Gorilla Glue.

Today I went out and planted the tomatoes, peppers, and various herbs that have been sitting in their little flats on the back porch. Unfortunately the garden plot is 1/4 of the way down the hill, and there is no water down there. We need to get water run down there.

Most of the garden plot seems to be a home for ants, both little black ones and red ones. I think we came to an understanding, however, where if they did not bite me then I would not return with something nasty (like an anteater) to eat them all.

Hopefully by the end of the summer we will have our first two _real_ farm critters! Earlier this week, Andy contacted Green Fence Farm, and we are now on their waiting list for two Icelandic ewe lambs! WHEEEE! (Or should I say, “BAAAAAAAH!”)

The lamb-popping-out process hasn’t finished yet, so GFF can’t promise we’ll get our two ewes, so Andy and I must wait in agonizing anticipation for the next few weeks. In the meantime, we need to start cleaning out the barn and making sure it won’t fall over on us or the lambs, and we need to work on setting up fencing for the little girls to graze. (And we need to win the lottery so we can pay for this all.)

After we were put on the list, I started thinking about names. I _think_ GFF will name these girls before we get them. The lambs will be registered, and to do that I would guess names are required. However, we can give them nicknames, right? So, yeah, I was thinking about names. Lots of farms have naming themes: Celtic, Robin Hood, coffee. What would our theme be? I was thinking at first about using Slavic names, since I’m sort of Slavic and Andy’s Polish, which is kind of Slavic (?). Then it hit me.

Loafkeeper Farm.

BREAD!

We’re going to give our farm critters bread names! Pita, Sourdough, Paesano, Crumpet, Wonder, Muffin, Toast, Waffle (Andy says waffles aren’t bread, but I think it’s close enough), Tortilla! I’ve already decided that we’ll name our dog Naan, which is an Indian flat bread.

So, even though our (hopeful) two lamb girls will come to us with names already, we’ll probably call them Biscuit and Rye, or something like that.