Vermont weekend.

The rooster (bantam mille fleur) and a hen (dominique).

I returned to Vermont this weekend, my first visit in three months.  The nights and mornings were crisp, but with clear skies and sun, the afternoon temperature rose into the comfortable forties.  The mountains had a fair amount of snow, and I think the skiing is still ok.  Around Burlington and the Champlain Valley the ground was quite bare.

My home, built on farm land in the 1820s.

I was happy to see the dogs again, and, after a winter hiatus, the chickens are laying eggs at breakneck pace.  I sprayed my peach trees with fungicide, hoping to control the leaf curl disease taphrina deformans.  The cranberry bog is ready to resume growing but, unfortunately, has been trimmed excessively by greedy deer.

One of the apple trees (honey crisp), ready to leaf again. I planted the trees 18 months ago.

I ate at The Farmhouse in Burlington and Fiddlehead Brewery in Shelburne; visitors to the area are advised to visit both.  I watched the stars then slept beside the wood stove.  A fire at night is mesmerizing.  The crowing-screaming rooster woke me each morning.  Here are a few random pictures.

Traffic inside the coop.

Foraging.

Rosie and Hank after a run outside, perched before the wood stove.

Fiddlehead Brewing Company, just two miles from my door.

Hen house bounty.

The stove at night.

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