Archives for the month of: August, 2010

“Hey, look what’s coming.”

“Holy crap!”

“It’s not very big, really.”

“It’s big enough.  I’m not going anywhere near it.”

And they keep a safe distance, all afternoon.  She’s only  six-weeks old:

and her mother,

who is a Welsh mountain pony, only comes up to my waist.

But at times the foal seems very big

considering she’s so young.

She still hasn’t figured out the best grazing position:

Although that’s not too important yet.

She’s already changing colour to the grey around her eyes.  Eventually she’ll be white.

She still stays very close to her mother.

But they wander about a bit together.

And eventually they go home.

“Very interesting.

Goodbye.”

Advertisements

I took this picture today in our garden:

The white caterpillar in the middle is a row of the big marshmallows they use to make silage.

Any time after the middle of August in Norway can be reckoned as autumn.  The schools go back and the weather begins to hint that the summer is over.  My wife even went mushroom hunting today and found a few chanterelles (about five, actually), and we had soup for dinner.  I think it’s peculiar, but there’s not much I can do about it.

Most of the apples in the garden still aren’t ripe — excuse the blur, but it was raining.

It’s only recently that I’ve been allowed to use a chainsaw. Although I longed for one for years and had many brochures on different models it was forbidden; but then I inherited one from my late father-in-law and so it became a fait accompli.  Last winter I read an Australian book about chainsaws; it had four chapters explaining “kickback”, how to stop different parts of your body from being cut off, how to avoid trees falling on you or rolling on you and the best directions for running away. Of course it said I should always wear a helmet, but then I already always wear a helmet and goggles outside. This spring, I practiced cutting off things around the garden, branches mostly. This weekend I cut down about a dozen spruce and birch trees, some of them very close to our cabin, and I managed to do it without demolishing any of the buildings built by my father-in-law.

In fact, they all fell exactly where I wanted them to.

Here are a couple of pictures of the main house:

It’s kind of rambling.  My father-in-law built it in stages, starting with one room, during the holidays over a period of fifty years (he loved building things).