Come To Order

The regular (daily) meeting of the Breakfast Club was well attended yesterday.  He might be a bit difficult to see, but the grey tree squirrel raced the turkeys to the buffet and was sitting in the feeder cracking sunflower seeds.  This is the little guy with the growth or injury under his ear.  I was happy to see that it seems to be smaller and is no longer angry and red.  A crow joined the turkeys on the ground, and a ground squirrel, as well (also hard to see).  The word is out, "Come one, come all!"

The girls are not happy with me.  The last bag of goat chow purchased is bad feed.  It is either very old or moldy.  When the girls shunned it the first night's treat, I was hoping it was just unfamiliar, but no.  They've dumped their breakfast bowls for two days now.  It's a good indicator of how bad it is when the mice won't eat it, either.  The barrel is only so big, so I had to empty some of it to make room for the sweet cob I got yesterday.  It's still in the truck because the hand cart was down in the barn.  I need to get stocked up before surgery because I was told I won't be able to lift anything heavy for awhile.  The bags of feed are 50-75 pounds; I consider that heavy.  I'm hoping that the sweet cob will get me back in the girls' good graces this morning.  I definitely need redemption.

I am always amazed at how much water chickens need.  The eight pullets are still small, relatively speaking, but they drink a full gallon of water a day, and I've added that to the list of chores.  I've got to get out there and clip their wings.  I'm finding them on the roof of the Taj now.  Their small pen is covered with chicken wire so it's not critical at the moment, but it's better if they never learn they can fly before they're relocated in the big, open pen with their larger counterparts.