KJ and LemonNow that I’m lucky enough to be a full-time farmer, I see all kinds of beautiful, sweet, and cute things on a regular basis. (Don’t get me wrong though, I see my fair share of things that make me shudder, too). Perhaps the most endearing one that never fails to make me smile is when King Julian picks a girlfriend. King Julian used to date Little Mama for years, until Little Mama went to the Big Farm in the Sky courtesy of a coyote. He stayed single for a long time, stockpiling his affections until the next Mrs. Right came along. And she did, in the form of Lemoncello, who goes by Lemon for short. I go outside all the time to find him chilling on top of Lemon, who seems content to let him use her as a chair. They snuggle constantly, and he stands guard while she lays her daily egg. It’s absolutely one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen, and he’s definitely the most chivalrous rooster on the planet.

Cinnabun has also proved to be an extremely affectionate mama, and never strays far from the Bunny Ranch when I let her out to stretch her legs and eat some delicious grass and weeds. Her babies are so used to me now that they come up and sit on my wheat thinshands when I put them inside their room. There are three jet black kits, three brown ones, and one steel gray. They run the size gamut from tiny little toy bunny to a big old hulking behemoth, whom I’ve creatively dubbed Hulk. Although they sleep most of the day, they never fail to come tumbling out from the nesting box when I put out the nightly salad and Wheat Thins. It’s never too early to start their love affair with snack crackers, and boy do they gobble them up.

Speaking of things that gobble other things, we had yet another predator invasion this morning, this time by way of raccoon. I got up as usual around 5:30, looking like the IMG_6916walking dead as I shambled outside to do the morning chores and passing Gene at the kitchen table, who was getting ready to go to bed after just getting home from work. As I was coming back into the house after preparing the critters to meet the day, I noticed the ducks were staring at something. It’s never good when ducks stare, which we’ve learned the hard way. Poor Gene got to end his day by running outside and shooting the raccoon who was stalking the herd. Gene’s lucky, he doesn’t even have to stop and put on plaid Nordstrom’s muck boots or a Swamp People t-shirt to look like he means business. He’s developed an aura of quiet menace that scares predators without having to resort to fashion accessories. I’ve tried to practice my menacing look, but people just end up telling me they’ve made great strides in water-soluble fiber products and I should look into it.

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