Deer Update

This week, I put out spinach and carrots when the deer chow ran out.  Then the deer left for a few days, because the food was gone, I suppose.  I missed them.  Deer chow costs $15 for 50 pounds.  It's also a workout. I have to toss the 50-lb. bag over my shoulder and trudge through the snowy yard to the barn. But I did it, and they're back again. Those deer have me so suckered in.

Second Grade Mom

A.J. brings home worksheets every day.  This one is an example of the hilarious, matter-of-fact way he, and most kids at this age, think:  He's supposed to write sentences comparing how they are different and alike, so he writes, "I have a square and a circle. And a circle is not the same so I can't tell you how they are alike." 

I can't imagine a sweeter, more tender-hearted boy than almost-8-year-old A.J.  He loves to cuddle and snuggle with his baby brother, and with me.  He is sensitive; he gets in trouble for crying too easily.  We're trying to teach him that the world expects him to be tough.  But he's not tough, at least not at this age-- and I love that about him.

Here he is, attempting to draw the deer while I am taking more pictures of them.

He finally decided to draw from a photograph instead, like his step-dad does when he paints.

This morning, A.J. went to school a half-hour early, wearing pajamas, to participate in the school's read-a-thon.  I just want to capture and keep A.J.'s cute smile and soft skin, his slightly too-short p.j. pants, and his hair, brushed with a big purple comb and sprayed to be both forward and backward at the same time.  ("Mamma, du gor det inte ratt!") 

Mornings, he listens to me reading a few verses from the Book of Mormon out loud (we're in Helaman now) while he eats his Raisin Bran or oatmeal.  I have to remind him to sit still and listen because he's trying to read the cereal box, look for deer, pour more milk, get me to sign his homework, and find his socks all at the same time.

Next week, I get to go to his second grade class to produce the Valentine's Day party.  We are playing "Don't Eat Pete," the chopsticks-conversation hearts game, cookie-decorating, and story-reading.  I love second grade Valentine's Day.  Everything in life is huge and colorful at this age.

A.J. doesn't want to give valentines to everyone in the class, but he has to, says Mrs. M.

I think I'll make this one my new main photo.  Dalarhast and deer.

Well, here are the photos of what he was trying to draw:  look how close they came to the house last night.

This one was leaping, just for fun, back and forth in the farmer's field, spring-loaded like a kangaroo.

These were almost in the house!

I do think deer are beautiful.  I wanted to get a photo of the one with the missing antler.  He looked comical, lopsided, yet very dignified because of his pride.  "Feo, fuerte, y formal" John Wayne would have called him.

Monday Morning

 Some of this weekend's photos:  here's Baby H., ready for church. 

The deer, Saturday:

I think they are kissing.

Then we had cousins over, to eat and play a game called scum.

 The orchid my mother gave me for my birthday in September came back to life!

 We got to babysit some friends' kids yesterday.  Here's Baby H and D.H. with the cute visitors, playing with hexbugs.

Thursday with the Deer

The deer saga continues.  Here are some photos of them, walking across our yard to get the deer chow. 

 You can see how the Mamma is limping below.  Her left foreleg bends the wrong way.

                                                 
So, I bought more deer chow for them.  I also had A.J. run out there to place a bowl full of celery and a dozen beautiful but wilting red roses which my dear D.H. gave me last weekend.

They love eating our tulip bulbs every year, so I am assuming roses are fine, too.  (We eat rose petals ourselves, just for fun, so I know they are edible.)  I hope the deer keep coming back, but I also hope they don't tell their whole herd where to go to get free food.

Deer Mamma Came Back

A few months ago, I crashed into a deer.  Three of the kids (including the baby) were in the car with me.  Nobody was hurt --except the deer.  I felt terrible about it, but grateful that we were all unhurt.  A deer coming through the windshield could have ended our lives. 

A few days after that happened, a lame deer wandered, limpingly, into our backyard, with her two kids.  She was limping so badly that I half-believed it could have been the same deer I'd hit on the road.  If not the same deer, it was one that had likely been hit by a car. 

I tried to call the local fish & game dept., but they were closed.  I called a wildlife rescue expert and he said that I was lucky the fish & game dept. was closed because they automatically shoot the deer, which is unnecessary;  deer, he said, are very resilient and often will adapt and heal.

So, I bought deer chow and put it in the back yard.  A day or two later, my deer friends vanished.  What had happened?  Did someone else call fish & game and have her shot?  Did she wander into another street and get hit again?  Was she surviving on her own, limping in the wilderness?

This week there was a cold snap.  Temperatures have been really, really, really cold-- and suddenly, here she was, back again.  We were sitting at breakfast today, A.J., D.H., and I, when the limper and her two kids cam along.  I literally jumped up in the air, here in the kitchen.  I was so happy to see her alive.

She's been here most of the day.