I spent the last two decades south of the frost line so I had totally forgotten how amazing Spring actually can be. Who knew?
In the vein of Spring and renewal and hope being eternal I brought home ten chicks from Tractor Supply in hopes of restocking the hens that we lost to assorted predators, God rest your souls girls:
First we took in seven hens that were being evicted from their Atlanta Montessori school. This was right after Hurricane Michael and our pasture light was burnt out and the chicken run was, as we tragically discovered, not secure. The following morning revealed a trail of carnage and decapitated bodies and two traumatized survivors. Around the same time a kind lady I ran into at Tractor Supply offered me six bantam chicks which she was pretty sure were roosters but I took them anyway. (Reader, they were all roosters.)
Same kind lady later sold me some of these guys along with their rooster
(My Meyers chick catalog says these guys are Mille Fleur d’Uccles but let’s just call them Millies)
So anyway, thanks to the run not being as secure as we would like and the gang’s love of free ranging on the manure pile in the pasture we are now down to two roosters, two hens, and now six three week old babies.
Fuzzies 1-5
The run is, I THINK, as secure as I can make it now and there is an upside to having a rooster or two and that is fertilized eggs on which my wee white hen is currently sitting. If Pinterest is correct, in about three weeks we could have babies. The circle of life, etcetera.
Mommy taking a break
Not counting before they hatch, duh.
In non poultry news from the stead, our garden, which I should more correctly refer to as Roger’s garden, is going bananas. Our squash, okra, snap peas and melons are all growing like, well, weeds. The asparagus and garlic experiment is rather underwhelming, which we have duly noted for next year and I await the first edible watermelon with a fanatic’s devotion.
Eddie is the living embodiment of zen and every bit the saint one would expect out of a 21 year old quarter horse who worked cows in his younger days. That’s why it was a little surprising that Eddie took moving to the panhandle to require putting in a yak’s worth of winter fur as he tends to not be the dramatic type. Now that we are well past the cold nights it’s been an ongoing battle to rid him of his extra layer
Those piles are from his back legs alone. So project de-fur and de-fungus has been taking up a lot of time. Fittingly enough the draft mare has lost all her winter fuzz and is sleek as a seal, albeit in season which means she is distressingly flirtatious with Eddie who, let it be known, lost his ability to participate in sexy-times many years ago.
So we roll into May with a broody hen, a moody mare, a crusty gelding, an overflowing vegetable garden and a chicken run as secure as the crypts at Winterfell (er..I hope..not..must revisit this metaphor…)
In closing Jojo would like you all to know that he will accept granola bars and about two pats on the head before taking off like a bat out of hell:
Until next time!