A wall?

The baby guineas were running around on the wrong side of the greenhouse plastic again, sounding like car alarms.  Mom was beside herself, throwing herself at the wall trying to attack me while I scooped up her chicks.  The chicks are funny.  Catching them is the hard part, but then I can stuff them in a sleeve, or pocket, or fold, and they instantly go quiet and still.  Oh, cozy!  Zzzzzzzz.  

That means plugging holes around the perimeter just moved up the priority list.  They won’t last long once it’s cold, slipping out like that.

I was planning to build a wall, harhar, to separate the guineas from the chickens, because the guineas move so fast, en masse,  they zoom through like a guinea train and all the other birds go bursting and squawking into the air.  Because there’s so many guineas, that’s a big train.

But I’m rethinking the wall.

Everyone is getting along so well.  The guineas are exceptionally quiet, with hardly any yelling sessions.  I assume that means they are content.

They’re sleeping on the ground, too.  The guinea mom loves this hay bale cave, and then the other guineas pile on top.

 

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