All very peaceful, until a croissant comes out. First it was pie crust, similarly discovered by accident – I was eating it within her reach, and she stabbed out her beak- I’ll have some of that!
Multigrain croissant has proven to be such a huge and lasting hit, that I’m like Ok, eat some more of your grains, and then you can have croissant. She’s like I’ll wait. I can carry a box of them through the room, and her little head periscopes out of her banana box, following me.
She gets a wicked glint in her eye when the croissant comes out, and she attacks! I used to break up beak sized pieces for her, but she prefers to rip her own bits off of the source, getting her whole body involved.
Why does she like it so much?
We don’t know, but at least she’s got an appetite.
I stopped this little Barred rock hen who’s been wearing a denim jacket for a while, to see if she needed it still, or if her feathers had regrown underneath. Three of the other jacket hens are out of their coats now.
This one happens to wear her coat like it grew on her, edges neatly tucked under her wings, and a perfect fit at her tail. I never see her jacket askew. But when I grabbed her to look under it, I messed everything up.
Boy, was I in trouble!
The indignation! The resentment! The phrase “ruffled feathers” really took on embodiment. She was pissed at me for messing up her outfit, which she mimed very expressively, starting off with a vigorous head shake, of which I got this neat picture.Grrrrr!What have you done?!
Then she proceeded to adjust herself, irritated as all get out that I’d interrupted her day so inconsiderately. Look at this mess! Now I have to stop everything to fix it, when I was just about to get the good spot on the coop. She went all over herself, digging in her wingpits where the elastics hold it on, combing her wing and tail feathers, tugging her coat this way and that – that was the neatest thing, that she actually tugged on and readjusted her jacket, just like she would her feathers. She wiggled it back into place and flattened it, and put all her feathers back the way she wanted. She’s not over it, though. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.
One of the guineas escaped from my carefully constructed bird shield. It flapped and scramble-ran up the plastic, therefore slipping under the edge of the mesh and out into the clear air.I actually saw it in progress, yet was unable to stop it from happening.It had just enough foot friction, I supposeI’m up here.Now what? Looked neat from inside. I left her up there to figure it out.
Later… how’s that guinea doing?Well, it’s on the wrong side of the mesh, and now suspended, like it’s in a mesh bag. We’re helping!
Its friends (whites only), were trying to help by pecking. Not helping.
I can get them down from here pretty easily though, by bounce, bounce, bouncing them on the mesh, until they slip under the overlap mesh- wish I could say I designed it like that – and flop unceremoniously into the yard they’re supposed to not be able to escape from.
The sun came out and dried up all the rain. Not all – there was a lot of rain. And more wind. This morning, the pig house was upside down. No pigs. That’s never happened before (the pig house flipped, certainly not absent pigs). I can picture them bolting out of there as their house lifted off of them.
Pigs are easygoing, pleasant, optimistic creatures though, so they had no worries about settling back in after breakfast.I had a good time in the greenhouse, cleaning up, untying strings. It seems like such a short time ago we were tying up the strings for all the vining plants to climb- cukes, melons, tomatoes. It’s nice to spend time with my birds when they’re at ease, not just in the food frenzy I get to see twice daily. They spend their down time lounging, and investigating, and investigating new places to lounge. They flop down anywhere. Chickens cashed out everywhere.The guineas really like it under that coop.
What chickens really enjoy is industry – somebody else’s. I was tearing down the cucumber vines in this corner. Moved a few things, paused to sort out my ipod, turned around, and…the whole crowd is in there “going over” my work. Hmm, we’ll just have a look, shall we?
Now I know why the other chickens weren’t impressed by Nosey. This is what they do when I’m not looking.The white one was up there too, before I got the camera. Just walking around up there on the tomato vines. She’s going to practice swinging in a controlled environment.
Nosey is a different little chicken.She runs up to me instead of getting out of my way, routinely stands on my boots and pulls my laces, and is generally underfoot. If I’m bent over the edge of the Silkie yard, or a coop, she’s standing at my elbow. I was cleaning Bravo coop and she was perched right next to my head, not giving me room to swing hay in and out, so I was like, ok, fine, you want to be in the middle of everything?, and I put her on my shoulder. She was quite happy with that and it made it easier for me to work, until she pecked me in the corner of the eye!
Then things went out of focus. It was a solid peck (she did not pull her pecks), but no permanent damage to my eye. Except later I walked the same eye into the spout of a watering can, so maybe my peripheral vision was temporarily compromised.
This also Nosey.I want that tomato. I wants it!Ok, it’s sort of like a swing.I just have to leean out…Last moment before an undignified flapping plummet to the floor. I love that the other chickens find this Tarzan act in no way noteworthy.
The four middle chicks are kinda loners. A little little chicken gang.On the left is a Silkie cross. She’s experiencing the unfortunate phenomenon of her friends all growing up faster than she is. Her growth has stalled.Caped crusader on the right. The four of them are very attached to each other, and haven’t become latched on to either flock of grown chickens. Their preference so far is to be in the greenhouse with all the babies, but I often put them outside, where they just pal around with each other. They’ve found a great place to simultaneously shelter and lounge.Meanwhile, inside the greenhouse: Oh, they love a good haybale. The little dominoes are so cute. They’re turning into Barred rocks, apparently.I’m here too!Happy Thanksgiving! Turkey impression!
I was taking pictures of Chris and Cream Puff, the love chickens, hanging out together the way they do, but looking back at the pictures in series, it looks like they’re dancing. He is SOOO much bigger than her!Oh, were you watching?
I heard the musical little sounds of the guineas approaching the house (doesn’t happen especially often), so I peeped out.
They were going for the bath! There’s a spot right by the trail where I was weeding out buckthorn, and the birds have decided that that’s the optimum dust bathing locale. Now there’s all divots and feathers. The guineas came in for the bath as purposefully as if they had little towels over their shoulders. It was their specific destination.
I went out to get pictures (all the keets tossing up a storm of dirt), and I felt like the paparazzi sneaking through the bushes, wishing I had a longer lens.
Galahad is hard to fool.He let me get closer though.
The keets have passed their peak cute. They are entering the small turkey phase. Scraggly necks, heads balding, and the fleshy bits that grow on their faces are starting to develop.Their behavior and mannerisms are still super cute. And still bright orange feet, although dark patches are coming in.Galahad is rightfully proud. He has kept them all alive and well, and they are model guineas. He’s a truly outstanding avian parent.They are very musical, the sounds they make. Also very NOT musical, when they’re in a certain frame of mind, and their kind is famous for that. It only took three generations of coddled guineas living here in order to get a non-neurotic batch of comfortable, quiet ones.Vigorous dirt bathing. Oh, now here come the chickens horning in. It’s like, just when you’ve got the hot tub to yourself, ten college kids show up at the pool.Oh, bathing? What a great idea. Don’t mind if I do. I’ll just, excuse me, I’ll just… get in right here, if you don’t mind, just pushing over a bit? Back to looking like rocks. There’s Cheeks sporting her jacket. She’s breaking it in. It’s working though, the simple design is keeping the right places covered. And… there they go. We’re done here.‘scuse me.If we could just get by ya here.And, there they go. Back to the greenhouse area. That happened so fast that little brown rooster hasn’t moved. What was that just happened!?The chickens don’t always congregate by the deck, they don’t even show up to the house daily, but when they do, I love it. They come in a drove, and sprawl out, more like they’re visiting and comfortable here than that they’re rabid for handouts. It’s nice and safe by the house for them, so I’m glad they do. They love those sawhorses. Those’ll go in the greenhouse this winter for them