~ Retired and Starting My Future In The Foothills ~

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Oh... I feel so bad for that little he/she roo.



Don't feel TOOOOOO terribly bad for him. Lemme tell ya how smart this little stinker is!

A few weeks ago, he was getting gang-raped by the 3 white faced black Spanish roosters & they hurt him, so we brought him inside and thought we were going to have to cull him. At first, he couldn't even walk. He stayed in the house with us for 3-1/2 days in a dog carrier, and yes, he pooped on the floor & we had to clean up after him. We figured it was only going to be a couple of days and that he would either pass away or need to be put down. He healed up well, though, and was reintegrated back into the flock on the 4th day.

Well, the next day after that, little bugger sees me coming and starts FEIGNING hurt so I'd bring him in. Of course, that first time, I fell for it... once I got him inside, I realized almost immediately there was nothing wrong with this little roo. I watched him for a couple of hours just to be sure, and it was pretty obvious he had faked his injuries just so I'd bring him in the house! I put him back out in the pens so he could resume his normal foraging activity, and he did really well.

The next day, he tried it again. I looked out the window, and he's bee-boppin' happily all over the yard, but as SOON as I came outside and he realized I was there, he tucked himself into a corner and assumed the "Oh, I'm hurt, I'm hurt!" position and started making his little "owie owie" noises. I knew better than to fall for his trick two days in a row, so I ignored him and went back in the house. I watched out the window, and as soon as he realized I was back inside, he resumed his normal activities of foraging and scratching and playing with the other silkies in the yard!

We now return you to your regularly scheduled Home In The Foothills updates. :)
 
Hee hee, what a smart little stinker!

Linda I know why you are not posting as often - you have joined those of us trying to keep up with the Easter Hatch juggernaut. I missed 2 days and was 200 posts behind!
 
It's really, really quiet around here. Usual 5 AM crowing from the coop, but nothing all night long, and nothing more than a very few, individual crows from the Roos In Residence. The only crow-fest occurred late in the afternoon, I THINK as the boys were starting to round up the ladies from the far reaches of the property. As I sit here late at night, I haven't heard Carl crow at all after the flock had got gotten settled inside the coop.

There's been a mouse in the kitchen. No, wait, now there isn't a mouse in the kitchen. There has been one, or more, for some time but most of its hiding spaces have been removed. The house cleaning gal has performed such miracles - especially in the kitchen - that mousies can't hunker down under, behind or inside the "stuff" which might very well have hidden 'em as they scurry to safety. My Himalyan has been hunting in the kitchen a lot, lately. Lizbeth spent most of her time in the guest room but had free access to the rest of the house.

Anyway, I've been keeping my meager supply of flatware in upright position in a container on the counter, due to evidence of mouse in the drawer where I usually kept it. Ewwww. Not putting clean utensils back in there while there is a mouse in the house! Not using any out of that drawer, either, until they've been washed. The electronic RatZappers don't fit in there. Last week or so, I bought a small mouse trap which doesn't kill what it captures. Ingenious little thing. I baited it with peanut butter and set it on the floor in the cavity under the counter, where I knew mice would travel (and have traveled). In less than 5 minutes, Zorro was digging in that corner trying to retrieve whatever it was that was emitting that lovely peanut butter scent. Uh.. THAT'S not gonna work.

I put it on the counter for a couple of nights. Nada. No luck.

Last night, it went into the flatware drawer. This morning I released a little mouse into the yard.

I share this tale in order to segue into a discussion of interest with my contractor, John, as I assisted him today. In my usual "talk about the minutae in my life" manner, I mentioned catching a mouse and releasing it. After John confirmed I had indeed looked for, purchased, and used a "humane, no kill" mouse trap, then actually released the mouse, he commented, "They're coming in from the attic, I bet - I need to seal that gap. So you're a Catch & Release person."

Only if I can't kill them humanely - but the RatZapper won't fit in that drawer. (I didn't mention if a raccoon decided to hang out around here, I would use that "cute" pellet gun on it to suggest it move elsewhere. If I managed to kill it, that would be one less raccoon bothering my chickens. I'm pretty sure we were just talking about helpless little mice taking up home in my kitchen, not predators.)

It was remarkable how quiet it was during the day.

I learned I had been using the wooden "wrench" wrong; instead of inserting the "tongs" into the lid handle, I should have simply placed the wrench over the handle on the lid to turn it. Yah, that actually was easier and "felt" better in my hand.

Found a confirmed duck egg in the coop today! One of my Cayugas is laying! I also observed a single duck nestled into the shavings inside the Igloo dog house inside the coop, which I'd intended for the geese to use for nesting. Oh well. I'll have to see how that works out or even if it presents a problem. As soon as I get enough duck eggs to share (after I eat the first few all by myself), I'll give some to John for him to use in baking. He brought me some cookies today. He doesn't bake brownies, he said, but he does bake a pretty spectacular pineapple upside down cake. Sometimes he switches it up and makes peach upside down cake. I was suitably impressed.

Blaze the Bunny appears to be very happy being on the loose. However, I did hear an owl last night, so I was glad to see Blaze utilize the chicken pop-door with familiarity AND some evidence she had bedded down behind the hutch on the porch last night. I still can't catch her, but she's very comfortable meandering everywhere. She has a series of things in the yard to use as cover and has demonstrated a well-practiced route of travel. She also ducks under the house on occasion - it's one of her hidey-holes.

Here are some more Deck Work photos.

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One of the pullets named herself today. Molly, my chattiest hen, had nothing to say all day. Today, somebody else wouldn't shut up. She also brought a whole lot of attention to herself when she repeatedly got into John's van. Every time he returned to the van, she was inside it. Even after a very flappy, noisy removal from the van, she got into it no less than twelve times. Sometimes it was just a hop up and in, before she was discovered, and other times she was far back into the vehicle and tucking herself into spaces.

"That chicken doesn't learn," John remarked. "I'm thinking she is looking for a place to lay an egg," I proposed. "Ya think?" he retorted. "I think it's more likely she's going to leave me something else. They could play in the van all they want if they didn't poop."

Well, the Won't Give Up. Won't Stop Talking pullet is now called by a name from my past: Cindy. I acknowledged one of John's customers is named Cindy (she's the one with the pond and ducks) but my naming the pullet "Cindy" was absolutely no reflection on her.

These next photos are of Lizbeth and Zorro investigating the deck after today's work was completed.
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John got to see me give the flock a treat: hand-feeding shredded Mozzarella cheese to them. Yes, some cheese was also tossed out for chickens further away (45 chickens - or so - jockeying for position around someone seated on a step is not conducive to orderly distribution), but the bravest and most senior birds took their treats directly from my hand. He had finished his work for the day so I was able to spend the quality time with all the feathered folk. It's a bit of a flurry to try to do on a short break whilst assisting a contractor who doesn't TAKE breaks. He was amused to see the Tsunami of chickens running towards me, and then all the swirling movement within the multicolored mass of velociraptors. I mean chickens.

As he was departing, and stopped at the gate I was holding open, he said, "You don't have to get rid of any more roosters. If this doesn't make 'em happy, tell 'em to pound sand."

That's my intention.
 
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You go John!!!!!
 
That deck is beautiful! I can totally see adirondack-style chairs and summer evenings with a glass of wine or two. And I'm with John and with you...although I'd tell them to go pound BRICKS!!!
 
OOh the deck is going to be so pretty!! :clap
I can just picture it strung with fairy lights and candles at night....
 
That deck is beautiful! I can totally see adirondack-style chairs and summer evenings with a glass of wine or two. And I'm with John and with you...although I'd tell them to go pound BRICKS!!!
OOh the deck is going to be so pretty!! :clap
I can just picture it strung with fairy lights and candles at night....


You are BOTH right! Adirondack chairs, wine, candles and fairy lights, you betcha. I already have fairy lights strung on the top of the grape holder... Err... Pergola. I've ordered the flameless candles I want to put out there, I possess green resin adirondack-style chairs, and there's always wine to be found around here.

Last night I walked out onto the deck in the dark to look at the stars. There was Orion, right there, shining brightly above the Ponderosa pines. Heard an owl way back in the cedars on a back neighbor's property. Lizbeth came out to jump down and investigate nearly disturbed earth where John had dug to place the step. She jumped back up almost immediately. The ducks gabbled at each other over by the coop; they're not staying inside it at night, but exiting before the pop door closes (after dinner, I suppose). There is often a "honeymoon" swim in the stock tank late into the night.

The lady who took Wilbur and 3 hens called to ask a question about the Cinnamon Queens not laying in nest boxes. The Delawegger is, however, like a good girl. I explained it might take a week or so before everybody really understands they're there to stay, and to get with the program. She already has golf balls in the nests as examples.

I haven't heard from Mr. Amazing Eyebrows, so I will call him this weekend to see how the noisy boys and their few ladies are doing.

I do not get nearly enough sleep during the week. Me SO tired!

Oh, this is cool: classmates.com and Memory Lane (dot com, I think) offer reproductions of many high school yearbooks. I never got any when I was in school, so when I found I could order the 1970 Sea Urchin (Pacific Grove HS) edition, the year I was a junior, I got one. My senior year was with a Community-Centered school curriculum, no "campus" and there wasn't a yearbook produced for or by us. We were very counter-culture back then. But two of my poems were published in the 1970 Sea Urchin.

Dang, those poems were written when I was a 16 year old, 48 years ago! I wish I had ALL the stuff I wrote in my youth. The very first poem I ever wrote, I was 5 years old and awfully proud of it . I have it memorized:

I built a little clock of glass.
All clear and smooth like ice.
And shined it up for Mother's Day -
It really did look nice.

I built it oh so carefully
So it wouldn't break
And put it on the mantle piece.
It really did look great!

Then 3 days later its beauty dimmed
With all the gathering dust.
And when I leaned over to blow it off,
The clock I built, I bust!

Yup. Five years old. Learned to read at age three. Precocious child, in a book or in my head almost all the time. I am still a voracious reader.

In looking for "straw wattles" for erosion control, and to appease my idiot neighbor's concerns about chicken poop run-off (which would have to make a left turn to ooze into his yard), I located some NOT online, at a building supply company in Sutter Creek, and HH found out her landlords at the alpaca farm bought theirs from Double Diamond Tack & Feed in Diamond Springs. The latter is closer; I'll buy maybe four of 'em there. They're 9 inch tubes, 25 feet
long, rolled up flat like cinnamon rolls. Well, that's what they look like to me, anyway. I can fit two, for sure, into the back of my RAV4 if it's empty..

That's my Saturday task.
 
In order for your flock's chicken poop to run into said idiot's yard, it would have to be SO voluminous that your rather substantial yard couldn't absorb it! Then it would have to run down your property, onto the street, make a left turn, and shoot up about 50 yards toward said neighbor's house, then down another 20 yards downhill onto his property.

What a moog. I'd like to give him a boot to the head. *poof*
 

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