Tag Archives: hens

Diablo and His Ladies

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For Christmas, I got a new coop for our chickens. We’ve had the same group for a while now…Diablo, the rooster, and six hens. We all love the eggs we get from them and are now incredibly spoiled to the flavor of fresh eggs. I got the wild hair to bring the chickens closer to the house and mentioned it to Bill. Voila! I was given this beauty on Christmas Eve.

I think the chickens love it. If the amount of poop in the coop is any indication of love, then they are head over heels in love with it. It has become (mostly) my job to feed them daily and gather the eggs. The thing is, I’ve had to become a little braver with this new chore.

 Just like with my dogs, as soon as the chickens hear me approaching with food, they get flustered. Wings started flapping, squawking commences, and by the time I open the top of the cage, they are ready to rumble.

Maybe their instincts tell them to get ready to fly. Maybe they sense that it is their moment to escape. Maybe they just want to scare the crap out of me.

So…when I open the lid, they begin to fly. At first, I backed away and squealed. Now, I’ve figured them out. They only fly up just a little…maybe a few feet, and then they settle back down. Only one has dared escape, and as soon as she hit the ground, she was trying to get back into the pen with the others.

But she didn’t fly back into the pen.

No, I had to pick her up. Pick Her Up with my bare hands! That was a first for me. And I lived through the ordeal just fine.

(A few close family members and friends were awed that I was able to catch the bird and put her back in the pen. I may have awed myself.)

 

 

Adios, Diablo…Adios, Summer

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A few months back we purchased a passel of chickens and one rooster, promptly named Diablo.  Diablo, at this point, is allowed to live with all the hens.  I am currently campaigning to separate him from the hens because I believe he is messing with their hormones in ways only a male can.  We’ve had 3 hens sitting on at least twenty eggs for months now…and they’re not hatching.  And the gestation period is twenty-one days.  Sorry hen-ladies, but your eggs are duds.  I truly believe having a male around is tinkering with their natural instincts and then proceeding to mess up my intake of eggs.  Buh-bye, Diablo.

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I’ve slowly reacclimated to life back in the real world since our vacation.  It was very difficult for me to come home from possibly the best vacation of my life.  My fantasy – to spend the summer on Mackinac Island.  Maybe one day!  I can honestly say my (grown) children traveled better than they ever have before and made the trip so special.

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The white shirt made an appearance!

The white shirt made an appearance!

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So school starts soon…and I’m being honest, I’m not ready.  Of course I’ll miss summer break but it’s more.  I’ll miss the freedom to eat lunch anywhere I choose.  Freedom to go to the bathroom at any given moment.  Freedom to read or write or just sit with my dog in my lap at my whim.  I’ll miss my Chacos (I’m still trying to figure out what I can wear them with to work).  I’ll miss the quiet.  And too, I’m missing my students from last year.  I worry over which teacher they’ll have this next year, and I’m secretly wishing I could have them all back (I tend to get a little attached and I’m sure my new kiddos will help fill the holes left by last years children quickly).  Mostly, I’ll miss the pace…the ability to stop and breathe and just cherish each moment for what it is.  Sigh…buh-bye, summer.