Tree Guy

Tree Guy showed up unexpectedly yesterday.  It seems he'd gone elk hunting over in Montana and that's why I've seen neither hide nor hair of him.  We all have our priorities.  (If I'd had one more intervening monetary crisis, there wouldn't be enough left for him in the piggy bank.)  He and son are coming today to take down the barn oak.  It's going to be a day of logistical problems.  I've got to get the girls fed, milked, and watered...and then back into the barn when Tree Guy shows up so they aren't underfoot and under falling branches, or out the open gate.  TG assures me it isn't going to take all that long.  I've seen arborists work before; focused, sure, and fast.  That old, old oak has been a part of my landscape for so long, it's going to seem very strange when it's missing. 

The Silkies have denuded their expanded pen of every green blade of grass and every seed in the new area, and they're scratching for more.  They seem very content in the Taj, and all three laid eggs yesterday.  We are still working on the bedtime routine, as they appear to prefer to be picked up rather than go in by themselves.  I truly don't mind, as it gives me the opportunity to snuggle their soft, fluffy, warm little bodies before tucking them in for the night.  I like to think they enjoy the cuddling, too. 

As for the big little girls, my morning routine is this:  go in the pen, throw down their breakfast scratch, open their little ramp door and they come tumbling out, open the people door and go in and check their pellets and water, see if anyone needs to go to sick call, come out and go about the rest of the chores for the day.  Yesterday when I came back out of the hen house, there amongst the chickens were two tom turkeys helping themselves before I'd even left the pen.  I'd already thrown down the bird seed for them under their oak.  I guess I'd want a change, too, if I had oatmeal every morning.  These ruffians were not afraid of me, and tried intimidation warnings to get the hens to give way.  It was pretty funny to see a little chicken fluff up and charge a turkey three or four times her size and stand her ground.  You go, girl!