Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Yesterday, I posted that we have a "farm" at my house due to the number of chickens we are keeping for the moment (hopefully Craigslist will come through for me and we can adopt some of them out as I don't like the idea of butchering anything with a name). Last night, at gate closing time, we were down one chicken. The white one we call Missy (as in, "Listen, Missy..." was missing (bringing the total down to 29). My DH and I looked for her all around the back yard and neighbors field to no avail. No feathers, no blood, no telltale signs of her demise. So imagine my surprise this afternoon when I went out to refill their water containers for the 2nd time (did I mention it's hot as blazes around here?) and there she was. And what was following her? Five tiny chicks, of course! The peepers look to be only a day or so old. That tricky hen knew if she laid eggs where I could find them, they would be omelets in the morning. So what did she do? What all smart hens do, she hid herself and her nest just past the poison ivy, waaaaay deep in the honeysuckle bush. As, I feel my summer slipping through my fingers, I have one more thing to add to the SBL (Summer Bucket List). So right after the trip to Legoland and Chuck E. Cheese's (not in the same day as I don't hate myself) now comes get rid of 5 more chicks.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Some like it when the heat is on, too. But, I'm not one of those people. It is all I can do to make sure there are no chicken/cat/dog fatalities here on the "farm" (if one has more than 10 chickens...it counts as a farm, and we have 30 thanks to the monkeys shoving eggs back under the hens during brooding season). Notice, I didn't mention the grass (because it has been dead for a few weeks at this point). I was 13 in 1988 when we had a summer like this here in the Midwest, but I don't remember it. I do remember going to the pool every single day one summer (maybe that's the summer). This summer we can't even say, "It's not the heat, it's the humidity." I wish it was humid. I wish my hair was a little out of control. I wish I wasn't worried about the water table and its implications for our well. But, I am. There's nothing I can do but, continue to pray for rain.