Oh...

Triffid has gone to seed and has proved to be some kind of mountain dandelion on steroids.

I don't know whether to be relieved or not. Regardless, it's pretty and can stay.

It's A 50's Horrible Sci-Fi Come To Life!

So I've got some Spring mystery volunteer plants coming up in my front yard... That's right, Triffids. I've got a nice ol' crop of Triffids coming along. If they start to make that weird trilling sound and walking around I'm outta here.

Where IS That Pot Of Gold...?

Yesterday we had a sudden, unexpected thunderstorm, and had a nice double rainbow to go with it! The view out in the front yard was quite different from the back:

 You can just see the secondary rainbow to the right of the main one.

 ...and the end ended in my chimney!

And from the back yard:

...and once again, it ends on my house!

Meanwhile, the chicks have started doing that weird snakey-head-use-your-sisters-as-a-pillow thing...

 Chicken neck-braiding.

If you don't like doing that, why just pal up to your little sis and show her you love her by protecting her in any way you can.

Nest Boxes, Yay!

Hen happiness is cool new nest boxes! Thanks to husband doing some building, the cardboard boxes are out and real wooden boxes--deep enough to hold all those big, fluffy butts--are installed, compete with loads of fresh, sweet-smelling hay and snappy black landscape cloth privacy curtains to make those dark hidey-hole nests so near and dear to every hen's heart.

At first when we placed the nests, before I added the curtains, there was much chicken excitement.

Weedcat is so excited that he gets a bit confused and plonks down next to the nest boxes instead of inside them and starts burbling softly and excitedly to tempt his girls over...

But Weedcat finally gets it together and goes inside the nests...

Followed by several very large hens.  Knowing how they all love to cram in there together, we planned ahead and made them extra large and extra deep to accomodate this nonsense.

More hens climb in...

After a while it's like the old phone booth stuffing fad, only for chickens.

And of course the hens all have to stuff behind and under Weedcat.  It's some kind of chicken comfort thing. The hen right outside becomes convinced that secret egg-laying is taking place and starts her Egg Song at the top of her lungs.

Weeds kept going from one nest to another, calling girls in nonstop--they all had a grand time.

Then I added the curtains!  More chicken excitement...
Bear takes position on top to direct everyone while the hens start peeking in...

 

The roos come along to inspect them and place their stamp of approval...

  Meanwhile serious and sober hen inspection continues.

 

 And inside, the baby chicks have their own structure, built by the kid out of LEGO.

They really dig it and climb inside to pile up and sleep.

April Fools, In A Variety Of Ways...

The other day I had to make a mad run down to southern California and then back again the next day, and as I always do, stopped at the Coso Junction rest stop along highway 395 in the Owens Valley. The ravens were out in force as usual, croaking at each other and begging for goodies.

OK, so we always feed the ravens here. As a matter of fact I packed along some peanut butter filled pretzels just for them, which they heartily approved of. But being ravens, they can't just hop up and grab the goodies--goodies must be approached in a flighty, ninny-hammer manner, though with an element of style.

If you can manage it. Otherwise, just run up and awkwardly grab the food while practically lying on the ground in a retarded manner while your buddies look on in saddened dismay at being even remotely associated with you.

Also, today being what it is, we pranked the kid a bit. The hatch is supposed to be a week away, but around noon we set this up and started asking loudly and excitedly, "What's that noise? Do you hear peeping?!" and got her to go over to the incubators, where she found this:

Well, she bought it for about half a tick, then started to laugh.

She's used to us messing with her by now and isn't fooled easily.

Easter Origami...

Been folding some special little things in honor of Spring, some fancy tied bows and Easter bunnies in Easter egg colors. I may fold some baskets later on if I have more time, but these fold quickly.

I think the Easter bunnies look very dapper all dressed up for Spring!

Yesterday at the grocery store we found pre-dyed, hardboiled Easter eggs. Talk about taking all the fun out of Easter! 'Sorry kids, dying eggs is too messy and I'd have to actually spend time doing something with you. Have these nasty, depressing factory eggs instead!' Boo.

Also, facial pain not improving, gonna have to go to the dentist and get my face x-rayed to see how badly my teeth/maxilla are broken after smacking myself in the face with that pair of channel locks while building the chicken coop. After years of experience I'm fairly sure I have two breaks in my maxilla and that my two front teeth are history (oh, the joys of being a Registered Dental Assistant!), which will be bad since when I smile I show everything in front.

On the plus side, maybe living in the country and keeping chickens calls for two missing front teeth. Hmm.

Attention, Historians...

...the most hated person in history is NOT, in fact, Hitler.

It's me.

At least, going by the chickens' reactions to me lately. They really, really now how to lay on the guilt with a freakin' trowel.

See, chickens are NOT big into any kind of change in their routine or surroundings. They want everything to stay just as it IS, thank you. Even if it's a change for the better, changes are viewed with unhappiness and distrust, and they'll look at YOU--in their minds the occupier of the position of Head Roo and Giver of All Things Good--to fix it, and fix it NOW.

So when we moved, and subjected our flock to various and sundry (and repeated) offenses and indignities of relocation, stuffing them in carriers, making them live in cramped quarters, etc. we found ourselves apologizng over and over again and trying to make it up to them with extra attention, cuddles and treats.

Food goes a long way in chickenland.

But this morning I went out to check on them and got a dose of heavy duty ChickenGlare from at least 6 of the oldsters. The chicks from last year's hatch were blithely out in the run, dashing about in the 25 degree weather with the wind & blowing snow, not really minding the chill. Youngsters are notorious for being kinda brain-dead and naive, and as such are more flexible in their thinking.

The dignified old ladies of the flock were another story. Their expectations are set in concrete. You don't mess with the ladies' dignity and sense of balance. They like to know what to expect in life from one moment to the next, and moving from southern California to northern Nevada in winter, haha, is NOT condusive to friendly human/poultry politics. They'd huddled in silent groups at the back of the coop. This is what I got from them.

The Stare has the power to drop lesser creatures in their tracks. The Frizzles especially contrive to look extra pathetic, as if those curling feathers only serve to allow the cold to get directly to their skin. I'd unwittingly compounded my sin by forgetting to go out there with goodies in hand to make up for the weather. The piteous looks, Lordy--the whining about their poor miserable condition was truly heartrending. The repeated loud and vocal appeals to me to DO something was undending. You'd think I was twisting off their toes.

I got out of there as fast as I could. Besides, it was cold out there!

I sense a large mealworm order in my future.