About once a year one of my hens gets sick. Sometimes it’s an actual injury, such as when Lacey discovered s/he was Luke and proceeded to mate enthusiastically with anything female within reach. Unfortunately for Cocoa, he was a big boy, and she suffered neurological damage that took months to heal. Sometimes a hen will…
Over on one of my yahoogroups populated by plain folks who use the Internet, there’s a big discussion on the commercialism of Christmas. One I kinda have to agree with, especially when I drive past the mall and the traffic to get in is so congested you can only imagine what the stores are like….
There are some tense moments in the raising of baby chicks: Will they make it? Will they get pasty-butt? Will my favorite wind up being a rooster? That last one, especially. At around four or five months, you start listening. You wake up before the sun and listen. You work in the garden and listen….
I hope you’re enjoying a great Thanksgiving Day. Our turkey is in the barbecue, the cranberries are cooling in our (cold) laundry room, and our guests are on their way. I accidentally dropped one of the pumpkin pies in the stove when I burnt my hand, flinging pumpkin soupiness all over the oven, the cupboards,…
November, that unpredictable month, has turned on us. Last weekend the chickens were sleeping in the sun; this weekend they’ll be hiding in the coop listening to the rain drip off the downspouts. Ever heard the expression “madder than a wet hen”? They’re not really mad–they’re anxious. If their feathers get wet, they mat down…