This is one of the baby bluebirds in the birdhouse, the same birdhouse from which we repeatedly snatched sparrows' nests earlier in the year. I won't be peeking in on them any more, because I don't want to scare or discourage them.
This is a bruise on my left upper arm: I was taking my daily walk (barefoot as usual) early one morning while Cliff slept; I took the usual turn around my cabin, stepped in a pool of slimy cow poop, and slid down, falling against a board that's part of the cabin. No, it doesn't hurt. I told you the cows were taking over my cabin; I didn't know they had a trap set for me.
Not to be outdone, Iris has a wound on her upper right leg (see the gaping red hole?). She goes for walks with us, but I've pretty much let her run where she pleases, up to now. On the part of our walk that takes us to the fence between us and the crazy neighbors, she made a habit of going through the barbed wire fence and nosing around over there. The other day she disappeared in the vicinity of that fence; I called her and heard a sharp, panicky whine: Cliff went to check: a barb on the wire had pierced her skin and was holding her captive. Today she walked with us, but when we got to that area, she stopped long before we reached the fence, and waited for us to turn and head back up the hill. I don't think she'll be going through that particular stretch of fence again, any time soon. She also kept us in sight during the entire walk. So this little injury might have worked out well, if it indeed taught her a lesson.