Ears to you all!

My beloved friends—hello! It has been some time since you've heard from me. I've passed these months in relative contentment, watching the progress of my barn (coming along, coming along!) and learning the ins and outs of our new neighborhood (bray-borhood?).

There are a number of beautiful brown deer with whom I share my home, and I hardly lift my head when they hop in and out of my paddock on their daily meanderings. There is one white and brown pinto deer who scares the shish kebabs out of me. I spook, bolt, stare, and snort when he passes by. My humans can't understand why he strikes me through with abject terror, but I say it's simple: whoever attacked that poor deer with a bucket of bleach is coming after me next! 

There are 30 tons of fine gravel, 700 square feet of geotextile fabric, and a beautiful 2 story barn with a 320 square foot footprint, in a state of partial completion, at the top of my little hill right now. I have not yet been permitted to set foot therein, but I am assured that all will be most gloriously comfortable for me as soon as preparations are complete. In the meantime, Miss Arrietty and I are slogging about in some muddy mud while we wait for that day to come, but we're being well fed! It could be worse.

Grandpa comes every weekend with his little white tractor, moving manure hither and thither, moving gravel hither and thither, moving dirt hither and thither. FarmWife says she could get used to having all her chores done by machine! 

This weekend, FarmWife is going to share a vegan spring roll recipe here on my blog as part of the annual Virtual Vegan Potluck. Check it out! It is going to be AWESOME. In exchange for letting her borrow my blog for the purpose, I've pulled from her a promise to help me blog more often, myself. I'm bursting with ideas, but until someone invents a hoof-sensitive touchpad I'm going to need her continued transcription services! 

We have three more family members—Lily, Tippy, and Marion, the rats—and I'm due to report on Missy, who enjoying her golden years in the paddock beside my own. 

Life is good—hay is sweet—time for me to go and eat! 

Brayfully yours, 

Fenway Bartholomule