I hate wordpress so much

I just wrote a whole long post about the first chick of 2019, “forgot” to ctrl-C the whole thing and just hit publish, and it’s all lost.  403 error. This happens, oh, about every 5-8 times I try to post, and has been going on for months.  Usually, I remember to ctrl-A and ctrl-C just in case, but when I forget to, it’s sure to fail. There’s fine print at the bottom of the writing window that will tell you “failed to save”, if you think to check it.

It’s like the 1990’s when email would do this to you when you hit send.  Oops, gone!  No draft, no back button.

Usually I just bite the rage, sometimes angrily going through the help maze to “chat” with “help” (No. help.), and quickly retype the whole post while it’s still bright in my mind.

I’ve blogged on WP for ten years?  It never did this sh*t until I started paying for the extra features (when something is semi-functioning for free, hey, you live with it).  Lucky me I paid for the privilege of a non-functioning photo editor,  the random total disappearance of the contents of my right sidebar one day, crap customer service, and a rage-inducing experience on the reg. I’m building a robust antipathy to logging in to blog.  WP is on the downhill slope of the curve now.  Jump ship!  The cracks are appearing.

Tonight, I’m too tired to retype the chick story, so it has to wait until I simmer down, and I’m too frustrated to even make my rant funny:(

GRRRRRrrrrrrrrrr.

Knock knock?

Cheeks progressed to spending all day outside.  She started eating from the trough with the other hens, then started laying her eggs in the nest box of the coop!

I hardly saw her from the morning post-yelling eviction until the evening.

She would still come to the door of the house at bedtime, or if it rained heavily.  Hello.  I still live here.I can’t reach the handle.Ah!  There you are. Do open this confounded door for me, would you?  I thank you.

I don’t know why chickens often get English “I say, old sport” accents in my head.

So funny!  Coming to the door like a cat in the evening:)

Tomatoes in

It’s that time of year.

The tomatoes are installed in the greenhouse (today), and now I have to scrupulously keep the chickens out (lest this happen again), let the guineas in at night but not so soon that there are marauding chickens still about, keep an eye on closed/open doors for air and heat circulation, and watch the forecast like a hawk for frost temperature dips.  It’s a nervous time, while the tomatoes are still baby plants.

I swear planting is getting faster and more efficient every year though.

This is the transformational stage, between chicken winter habitat and summer food jungle:)

How is Cheeks?

Cheeks is great!

Her brief supervised outings and chaperoned dates quickly turned into twice a day solo forays that got longer and longer.  At first she would come in wiped out, eat (or skip eating), drop into her banana box and sleep for hours.  You could see her building strength though, and she could stay out longer and longer before wanting to come in.

She was more of a solo chicken at first, as the other chickens still lived in the greenhouse and gravitated towards their food dishes over there, while she stayed very near the house. Jumping up on the sawhorse was kind of impressive for one good leg.

Then Cheeks started to make the walk over to the greenhouse!  She chose a rooster (Chris is the lucky guy). 

And then…she started to stay outside mostly all morning, and all afternoon.  Back in to drop an egg, or eat, and then, she would announce she was ready to go back outside by yelling.  In the morning as soon as she saw the other chickens through the window, cue earsplitting yellllling! with a prelude of whining.

That would earn her a prompt toss out the door for the morning (at 42 sec).

When she was in, she made it plain room temperature was too hot for her now too, by doing airplane impressions.  She’d acclimated to the cooler outdoors.I’m hot.  Should I start yelling or am I making myself clear?

All in all, she progressively spent less and less time as a coddled house chicken, and started her transition back to normal chicken.  I’m so proud!

Nosy guineas

I was sitting on the sill of my open front door, a convenient place I’ve found for potting up starts, my dirt and trays arrayed in front of me, when the guineas wandered up.

They arrived quite suddenly, maintaining their constant twittering conversation about everything, and they came right up on the deck to see what I was doing.   Whatrya doing?

I was so glad I was in arms-reach of my camera.  I thought they were after the green stuff, but they didn’t make a move for it.  Then, they apparently reached a conclusion about what was happening here, and, inspection done, they turned and left just as quickly, still ceaselessly conversating.Carry on. You passed. I’ll be checking up on you later, Cheeks.

Notice Cheeks was with me at the side of the deck, and she was subject to inspection too.  She looked a little nervous- she froze and her eye got big.

Guineas are so funny.  Strange, and funny.  They’re different.  I’m so pleased with this bunch.   They roll around like friendly patrol cops on a beat, keeping tabs on everyone, including me.   Oh, gardening?  That’s acceptable.  Hi again, how’s the job coming? I haven’t seen them on the deck before, but it’s great that they come around the house so close, instead of insisting on being cagey distant wild animals.

May Day resolutions – So much has happened in April (a three season month), and I took bunches of pictures, but I wasn’t posting much.  I’m going to make a stab at catching up with all the fun happens this month (although events may have occurred earlier than they appear).

Saturation point

It’s been raining for almost ten days straight.  It’s just unbelievable.  No more water can be absorbed.  It’s just puddles and standing water everywhere.  The ground is so soft you can unexpectedly plunge in the ground over your ankle walking along.  then it tries to pull your boot off.

The chickens have had their coops outside for several days, but when the rain come hammering down, they run into the greenhouse, which remains empty, to shelter.

It was ok for awhile; rain is important, but today, I was done with it.  I had to start a fire, because I was chilled.  Luckily, it’s over now for a week!  A whole week of sunshine.  The bugs will almost certainly start up, and everything will begin to grow.

I’m sorry I haven’t been blogging.  In the meantime, THIS!:

The man who sailed around the world with a chicken

There’s more to chickens than they are generally credited :)

The return of winter

Winter was back for a few days.  The wild birds descended in clouds for something to eat, including a few new birds.

There was a purple finch.  This is sad because it’s the first purple finch sighting of the year, when normally there would be many of them all winter.Here’s a sad robin. I don’t eat seeds.  

Now that the rain has come and washed away the snow, she’s eating well, if she survived her three day fast.

There was a red-breasted nuthatch, tiny and adorable in a little badger mask.  I’d never seen one before.

And then in swooped a small hawk, who perched on the pile of sticks, right in the middle of everything.Instant ghost town.

It’s a tough life being  a hawk.  You show up to hang out and everyone leaves.

She patiently sat around.  I took pictures, looked her up in the bird book. A juvenile sharp-shinned hawk, I think (feeds on song birds).  So small.  She stayed.  No one else moved.On the small bird feeder, one chickadee stayed motionless, locked on the raptor.  Many minutes passed.On her usual perch, the squirrel was also stock still, staring at the little hawk.

Finally, she swooped away, and the raucous bird shouting and activity resumed.  The chickadees recovered first.

I’ve been using the “roofs” of the beehives as bird tables, for the wild birds that would rather eat on the ground.  The chickens come moseying along and frustrate them, so they’re happy to use the tables. They’re learning to share.

Chicken play date

Cheeks has been having chaperoned outings.  I carry her out with me and set her down near where I’m working, in the field or the garden, and she moseys around, scratching and eating.

She loves it.  What I expected, was that after a couple of hours, she’d be tired, and willing and ready to be scooped up and carried home for a drink.  I’ve handled her daily for months.  She’s as tame as a chicken could possibly be.No.  Oh, no no no.  No!  Not yet!   Try to grab her and she hits the gas.  Can’t catch me! I’m a wild animal!  She can lead me on a proper merry chase, even with her lame foot.  When you do catch her though, she’s totally fine with being picked up.  The thrill is in the chase.I only look placid.

Today she got a supervised date. (A very brief date).  Speed date, even.  The rooster saw her from a distance, and barreled towards her, and saved his dancing for the afterglow.

She’s been looking forward to a date, based on how loud she shouts through the window when the roosters come to the yard.  And she didn’t make him chase.  Now all her gorgeous eggs won’t go to waste, and I’ll get some little Cheekslings.She also got some time with Perchick, which was adorable.  They spent nearly an hour together.  Perchick and Cheeks are the same age, possibly nestmates,and they behaved exactly like they recognized each other and fell in step like old times.   

Happy about living naturally