Salt and Pepper

Ta da!  Opening the door to the Taj now is like opening, as Forrest Gump said, "...a box of chocklits" (or in this case, chick-lits).  It had occurred to me in the night that I should probably put up some sort of barrier to create a playpen for the chicks in the Taj.  Steve being the hoarder he was, there are always bits and bobs around, and I found a thin board just the right size to put across the doorway.  It's a good thing I did, when I did, because as I took it back to the pen, the little black chick was cheeping to beat the band.  The poor little thing had tumbled down the ramp and was sitting outside in the cold.  And I do mean cold.  I tucked her/him back under Yuki so fast I didn't even get the pleasure of feeling the down.  I am so hoping that all the chicks are girls.  Like male goats, I can't keep boys.

Sitting on the deck, taking a break from hauling more brush to the burn pile, I saw the turkey tribe working its way across the yard.  They made furrows in the ground, scratching through the leaves for whatever it is they look for.  There was a total of seventeen, and their rustling sounded like the swish of a lady's taffeta skirts. 

The oak to the right has been hollow for as long as I've lived here.  Chunks at the base have fallen over the years, and I've expected this tree to drop at any time.  It still stands, putting out leaves every spring.  Go figure.

This is Carmine, one of the Mafia Boys.  He's recognizable by the twisted wing feather.  Carmine is usually the one who joins the hens for breakfast.  The Boys are usually in a group by themselves, but the tribe has gathered forces.  Perhaps we're heading into mating season.

Bessie and the cats had joined me for a break, and Frank was intent on watching the tribe move through.  I could hear his thoughts, "Winner, winner...turkey dinner!"  In your dreams, Frank.

Our area seems to have dodged the bullet as far as the snow dump that was predicted, but there is still a lot of the white stuff on the hills above Omo Ranch and Fair Play, and in the other direction toward Grizzly Flat.  Can't say I'm sorry that I live in the "banana belt" where it does snow, but it doesn't stay on the ground long.

I wonder how many chicklits will be in the box today.