In case any of my thousands of dedicated blog readers want to comment, I finally figured out how to allow comments from anyone... but I get to moderate them. Okay, so I don't have thousands of readers. Somebody might read it someday and want to comment and now they can.
Today was transplant-drowning-smoke-bushes day. I'd forgotten how soggy the arboretum gets in winter. Four smoke bushes were in the swampiest portion with their roots in water. Smoke bushes like well-drained soil. So I moved them up to the highest end of the arboretum. Here's hoping they survive.
Today was also get-Nightingale-used-to-the-drag day. She didn't get used to it. But she's better. I can now tow it behind me while I ground drive her. I can even touch her rump and sides with the "shafts" (white pvc pipes). Eventually, after 45 minutes of getting her used to the drag (at first she wouldn't even get close to it), I was able to put the shafts through the things on the harness where shafts are supposed to go (whatever they're called). But when I asked her to walk and the shafts came with her, she freaked out. So it was back to toting them behind her, which she didn't mind at all. I don't know why it takes her so long to get used to things. On the other hand, this was the first day I've had the full harness on her, with crupper (thing that goes under the tail). She didn't mind that at all. Go figure.
Also, this was the day to catch the turkeys that are going to the butcher tomorrow and pen them separately. Johnny found it very amusing when one tom insisted on flapping over my head and beating me with his wings. He found it less amusing when one did that to him. We finally got them corralled and separated from the non-Thanksgiving turkeys. I hate this part of the feast. I understand why normal people buy their birds plucked and wrapped and in a grocery store.