Step It Up

With the sunshine come more chores.  The morning walk around the deck is now done with hose in hand, watering the potted plants.  This also involves a bit of yelling, as there are a couple of hanging pots and a leaky hose that when I raise it high enough, runs cold water down my arm to my ribs.  That's a wake-up call I could do without!  Watering the vegetable garden is also put on the to-do list.  Mowing, mowing, and more mowing.  I did get the west point mowed down in the afternoon...just the tip of the green iceberg.  Tree/Fence Guy came by.  We stood out in the front yard in the shade of the big oak to talk, and watched a pair of red-tail hawks hunting for ground squirrels in my pens and J&J's vineyard.  The grace of those big birds almost takes your breath away.

I've got to let the chicks out into one pen or another soon.  They've outgrown even the two cages.  They go into a frenzy whenever I show up at the door, yelling for more food, more water, more room!  The nephew of a friend of mine is out of school for the summer, and his uncle is looking for something for the kid to do.  I need help...the kid needs a job.  He's coming on Monday and I'm hiring him to prepare the dog run as a transition home for the chicks.  While they're growing faster than I can believe, they're still of a size to be hawk bait in the big chicken pen.  I know I bought Rhode Island reds, barred rocks, and Araucanas, but there's a stranger in the mix.  She is black and white like the barred rocks, but is much larger.  Her markings are much different, more white than black, and not the speckled feathers of the rocks.  I'm wondering if she might not be one of the Hamburgs.  Since I get the chicklets before they're old enough to be sexed, one never knows how many will be hens or roosters.  Going by the size of the combs, I think I might have lucked out and only have one male in the bunch.  If that be the case, I'll go ahead and keep him as protector for the flock.  If there turns out to be more than one, a decision will have to be made.

A turkey hen was under the oak this morning, with only one turklet.  It's always so sad to see the decline in babies, knowing that their brethren have fallen prey to hawks and coyotes.  This mother's last child stayed almost under her wing as they pecked for yesterday's leftovers...and that's a good thing. 

Taylor came home yesterday, much to the relief of her mother and dad and the rest of her loving family.  One's own pain is so much easier to accept than that of one's children.  Larry tells me she's making a remarkable recovery.