Devouring life, one bite at a time
I’ve been called a lot of things due to my talking, but never, not ever have I been called a sharp talker. More often I’m told I have a big mouth, I talk fast, I talk too much, too loud, I talk about boring things, I …
It’s been a couple weeks now that she’s taken to rooting in the same corner cubby in the chicken coop. When the other ten girls (we used to have 12 total, but lost one around the same time the goats fell victim to a mountain lion when I was in Colorado) go out in the yard to enjoy freedom, dust baths and grazing, she fans herself out to maximum fluff capacity and parks it in the designated egg laying cubby.
There’s no doubt, she’s onto us. She knows we’re after those eggs. Though while assuming the role of the official egg sitter for the flock, she can sit on those eggs till the cows come home- no chicks will ever hatch without a rooster.
I admire her tenacity, I really do. But we have a slight problem. I’m terrified to get near her. When I unlatch the window to expose the cubbies (brilliant coop design credit to my roommate, Sugar), she bristles up her feathers with hate in her eyes and looks at me like she’s about to spit nails. Also, she pecks when you reach under her. For a little hen, she’s pretty intimidating. It’s the crazy look in her eyes that freaks me out. If you ever live in a big city, particularly New York, you learn there’s nothing scarier than someone crazy, because they’re totally unpredictable. That’s how it is with this hen.
Thank goodness Sugar is a firefighter and has way more guts than me. I’ll let her be the hero and get those eggs.
I’m 30 years old and I just learned to play Scrabble. I know, it’s like meeting a college kid who doesn’t know how to drive. I’ve resisted board games for years because of my propensity to being a sore loser. Since I’m trying to cross …
For the first time in my life, I’m living in a place where I have to find my own source of heat. The plus? It’s cozy, toasty woodfire stoves. The minus? You have to stack your own wood. The once a day sawdust pressed logs …
I still have a ton to learn about chickens, including what kind we have. All I can tell you is there are 4 each of black and white, yellow, and red. It has taken months for me to even get to a point where I can pick them up. They are quick on their feet and not scared to peck at you.
They also seem to sense I’m uneasy around them. They are darling girls, it’s just all that pecking I’m not a fan of.
Lucky for me, we have a trap door next to their nesting boxes for grabbing eggs. I still have to be quick, since a couple of the gals are onto me.
Look what I found in my kitchen! Seriously, scorpions are no joke and can be difficult to catch. And unlike spiders, it’s recommended that they are killed instantly and not released in the wild or they will just find their way back into your house. …