Farm Friend Friday: Creatures are stirring

 Bruno Bratanter on the gate

With the daytime temperatures back up into the 70's all life was stirring again. I felt like I was coming out of hibernation this week, slowly resuming life as we know it. The chickens were glad to be back outside scratching in the creek.

Bruno is our only rooster that can fly to the tops of trees (and has on occasion required me standing on the top of a tall ladder to retrieve him at nightfall). His beak is in need of a trim. I love his black 'beard' and mullet like 'do. The Brabanters come from Belgium and are very personable. The hens fly to my shoulder when I enter the coop, and would happily ride around there like a pirate's parrot all day if I would let them!

This week I noticed one of the neighbor's Mallard ducks sitting in the hedgerow not far from our front door.

Farmer Rick was certain it was just a bag that had blown down there. On closer inspection, we were both correct: It was a tan plastic bag neatly camouflaging a female mallard presumably sitting on eggs.

You can't see me! (Click to biggify!)

Last year one of the ducks hatched 19 ducklings in a flowerbed closer to our driveway. This nest is just a few feet from our door!

I also noticed the bluebird nest box in the Short Grass Prairie has a bluebird nest in it. They are unmistakable, made of soft green moss lined with feathers. I've seen her going in and out, so hopefully I will be able to photograph the babies soon. It's been a couple years since we had bluebirds; last year the box was home to Tufted Titmice.

Tiger Girl

The beautifully marked wild cat Tiger Girl showed up to accompany me on my walk. She's a good mouser and I hope she will make this her home. We see her once or twice a week, and have not found anyone who claims her.

Moon over the prairie

Interestingly, the honeybees have been making a beeline to the 5 gallon buckets filled with coffee grounds I pick up at coffee shops in town. They must be getting some sustenance out of it. Or a buzz! Will our honey be caffeinated?

Patches

Patches, our resident armadillo has been out and about snooting through the grasses and digging for grubs. I was able to follow him at a close distance in this video taken a couple days ago. You'll see early on he detects me by smell, but continues about his business. It is only at the end I crunch something underfoot that he goes bounding away.

I felt like an armadillo paparazza! This week I've also potted up hundreds of Salvias, Mulleins, Jewels of Opar, and Coneflowers and moved them from the propagation room into the greenhouse. There are so many more still to do! Here's a photo of the greenhouse at night, glowing like a beacon.

For more views of farm life, visit Farm Friend Friday!

Farm Friend Friday: Some Serendipitous Finds and Farm Style

Isn't he lovely?

A few years ago I saw a precious vintage rooster tablecloth on eBay, but the bidding got so high I had to let it go. It was The One That Got Away.

So, fast forward to Tuesday when I was in the Big City on errands with a few minutes to spare. I spied a thrift store I'd never been in, and --like any frugal farm girl would do--I went in. There I discovered four curtain panels and two valances in the exact pattern of The One That Got Away for the mere sum of $1.50!

Something to crow about!

Not only is our kitchen this color of split pea soup on a cold Winter's day (aka 'Avocado' in the 1970's),  I've been looking for two window coverings for this room!

 

My painting 'The Emerson' above the sofa with potential dog bed material

I also found a bedspread and two pillow shams of a wonderful Jacobean print in all the oddball colors I'm using in several other rooms: coffee brown, mint green and persimmon for $7. Jacobean prints with their bold branches, fruits, flowers and birds remind me of the kind of in-your-face nature I experience on a daily basis. I've been looking for something from which I could make several dog beds. (Why is it all dog bed manufacturers assume hunter green and navy will work with everyone's decor?)

Although my style sensibility (if you could ever call it that) is best described as Atomic Ranch meets Martha Stewart Living at Pier One--and would likely give an interior designer nightmares--Farmer Rick and I are at home with this kind of eclecticism.

How about you? What's your farm style?

For more Farm Friendly features, visit Farm Friend Friday.

New roo

Yesterday I got a call from my friend Joan saying she had a cockerel in need of a home (read: her husband was going to eat him if he wasn't relocated soon) and that my husband already said I could have him if I wanted him. I found this 'preauthorization' process sort of interesting.

Apparently she and Jim had picked up four Ameraucana pullets, and recently discovered one was, in fact, a rooster. Once he started crowing their rooster decided to get rid of him, and fighting ensued.

I have been without an Ameraucana rooster since my beloved Avo's untimely demise back in December. (Although I did rescue Mr. Blue from the eventual frying pan of Dos Bubba's, the plumbers, he's not 100% Ameraucana.) Kitty Hawk, Alzina, and Desser Mae have been in need of a beau for a while, since Avo's preference had been the company of sheep.

This fellow has more black flecks on his chest than Avo (in my banner head) and his comb is a bit frilly, but otherwise he looks line a fine bird for the breeding program. No name has surfaced yet, but I'm sure we'll think of something as his personality becomes more evident.

I can tell he hasn't been handled much, so he isn't very friendly--yet. He tried to peck my hand this morning. But he will be in quarantine (the utility room) for two months and I'll work with him. He's certainly got a set of lungs on him as he woke us up at 4 a.m. Farmer Rick couldn't say too much about it on account of the preauthorization and all.

Sunday Stills: Valentines

Sending all my friends in blogland this image of one of my favorite vintage Valentines! This holiday is special to me, as it was on Valentines Day that Farmer Rick proposed.

We have been in San Antonio this week, down on the lovely Riverwalk, attending the state's Music Educators convention. The Riverwalk is the most romantic place in Texas and a good place to do photography.

 

Everywhere you turn there is something to delight the senses--textures, colors, sounds.

  

We stayed in a historic district a brief walk away from the convention center. Although we were in the newer part of the hotel, there was an old-world feel to the room. We only wish the lighting had been more suitable to reading!

 

There are many restaurants along the Riverwalk, and in better weather you can sit outside along the water. The food at most of them is mediocre at best, but you cannot surpass the view.

 

From our window we could see the Tower of the Americas built for Hemisfair 1968. Somewhere in that plaza my great-grandfather's house once stood. It rained the first day and a half, but Saturday the sun came out and it was a cheerful place.

 

When you are down along the Riverwalk you become oblivious to the traffic above at street level.

 

There are little pocket parks, paths, fountains, and art.

This statue is of Saint Anthony, for which the town gets its name.

  

Artistic detail abounds.

 

There are many foot bridges to get you from one side to the other without ever having to rejoin the hectic world at street level.

  

Usually there are more flowers this time of year, but even San Antonio has been having a colder winter than expected.

 

If you get tired of walking, you can always take a river taxi!

The convention center had a magnificent landscape joining into the Riverwalk.

The landscape architect obviously spent much time studying rocks and waterfalls in nature to be able to design such a pleasant space.

 

I'd definitely like to come back in a few months when the plants leaf out and the flowers bloom.

 

It is amazing something that mimics the beauty of where I live could be forged out of concrete in the heart of the city.

For more Valentines, visit Sunday Stills!

Until Death Do Us Part | Part Two

After coming home from judging UIL Storytelling this evening I found Avo's crumpled and muddy body next to the sheep shed. It appears he was stomped to death by Finley. I had noticed a little aggression recently and the thought that this could happen even briefly ran through my head this morning.

But they had lived together for three years since Finley's birth, and just the other day on our walk Finley was concerned his chicken had fallen behind. I cannot claim to know what goes on in the sheep mind. Avo could fly up and out of the pen if he needed to I told myself. He did it all the time. I wish I had listened to that little voice. I even had the thought since Phoebe's passing that maybe it was time for Avo to live with his own feathered people again. Take up with a nice Ameraucana hen.

Avo is in my blog mast head, and in my lap on the holiday cards yet to print. The card that won't get printed now. He's all over my blog as he loved to be photographed. So much for our peaceable kingdom. I can hardly bear the heaviness this season has already brought. He was the best chicken, and will be in my heart forever. There will never be another chicken like him. I knew this day would be hard, but I never knew it would come so soon or by the hoof of another loved one. I feel like it was my fault for not listening to my intuition. This is a tough one. We just buried him on top of his beloved Phoebe.

I'm going to take a break from blogging for a while.

Sunday Stills: Fins, Feathers, and Fur

Even though I live on a river it is close to impossible to photograph fish--the water is so clear (at least when there is water) that the fish usually see you before you see them and skedaddle. So, I'll have to pass on the fins category.

A lovely sunset tonight and feathers allows me to introduce you to Mr. Blue, my newest rooster, who came to live with us two weeks ago. He was among a truckload full going to slaughter with our house carpenter and I asked if I might have him. He is what would be called an Easter Egger because of his blue egg genes. His father is an Ameraucana but he is crossed with something else yet showing some Blue Wheaten coloring in his tail.  Isn't he spectacular?

And from the archives for fur I can think of no better example than Francisco. I call this photo the Big Bed Wolf. I recently had to take him on a business trip and board him for the day at my client's kennel. The moment we walked in, the staff exclaimed "look at that upholstery!"

For more fins, feathers, and fur visit Sunday Stills!

Sunday Stills: Photoshop

Photoshop is my favorite software and I use it daily as a professional graphic artist. Mostly I use it for image collage, such as the rooster who appears to be holding a flower in his beak in my blog header.

It's easy to get carried away using filters. I find the greatest challenge, however, is finding a subtle combination of them that actually makes an OK photo even better, pushing it toward the artistic without destroying the original.

Here is a finished portrait of Presley, a Silver Laced Polish rooster, and the changes from the original so you can see the progression. Not only did I use several filters, I used them on multiple copies of the original and gave them different types and percentages of blending modes.

Click to biggify

A little added color for artistic enhancement

 

Enhanced eye shine through adding a luminosity layer

 

 Here I've accented the edges giving more emphasis to the feathers

 

The original image--nice enough but not very exciting

For more examples of Photoshop, visit Sunday Stills.

Animal Communication on the Farm

Avo and Finley as his "peep"

Lately, I have seen evidence of communication between chickens and sheep.

First, we noticed Avo the rooster is able to call Phoebe, our blind ewe, to food. When we throw "salad" (garden weeds) into the sheep pen Avo engages in "tidbitting," a form of communication between a rooster and his hens, where the rooster picks up a found object (usually edible), drops it repeatedly while clucking, in an attempt to draw his hens to him. Because Phoebe is blind, she can't easily find her pile of weeds as her son Finley can find his. So Avo tidbits over her weed pile until she locates it by the sound.

Sunday I discovered our sheep understand rooster warnings. While the sheep were grazing the garden paths under my supervision, Avo noticed the neighbor's dog through the fence running on the far side of their property. Chickens have a disctinctive high trill for airborne predators, and a low growl for ground predators. Avo let out a long, low growl and Finley, who was grazing with his back to the fence and could not possibly have seen the dog, jumped up in the air and ran to me, clearly understanding there was danger.

Finley and I have our own communication language. He has a way of "pawing" me when he wants attention. It's his way of saying "I want." If I mimic his motions first, he understands that if he comes I will pet him. Here are a couple of videos.





He is more like a dog than a sheep, and he wasn't a bottle baby.  He loves attention so much I call him the mutton glutton!

Sunday Stills: Rule of Thirds

After telling everybody I've been using the Rule of Thirds for a while, do you think I could get the animals to cooperate?

Avo, King of the Sheep (or Fuzzy Hens as he prefers) kept trying to explain the Rule of Twenty Sevenths. It was beyond me.

Finley suggested I use the fence to do my proportioning, although he says he prefers using the fence to scratch his rear ear.

Zoe the Apenzeller Spitzhauben hen and the yet unnamed White Crested Black Polish rooster just gave me a look like I am crazy...and of course, I am the Crazy Chicken Lady around these parts. If you have a good name for him, I'm taking suggestions.

For more Rule of Thirds visit Sunday Stills!

Farewell Rooster-o

In the beginning, we never planned to have roosters, but we didn't read the fine print that said there was a small percentage of error on sexing peeps on the first day of their life. Soon after our original batch of layers began to grow, we noticed something different about this one. It looked like a rooster.

Soon we were absolutely, positively sure he was a rooster, and thinking he was the only one, named him Rooster. You could say he was our first rooster, even though much later we were to discover three other of our 'hens' were also boys! They happened to already have girls' names that we could change to the masculine by adding an 'O'...thus Ava became the infamous Avo, etc. This is how Rooster became Rooster-o.

He was the smallest of all our roosters, and we never knew exactly what unusual breed he was. As a young cockerel, he excelled at sports, namely 'grape ball'. This is where we would toss a grape into the flock and he was like a quarterback that would run around dodging the other chickens who also wanted the prize.

Rooster-o was also a gentleman, always very kind to the ladies who, quite frankly, adored him. Especially the ill-behaved Egyptian Fayoumis. They knew he had the biggest wattles around and took advantage of that any chance they could get. He was the only rooster I could not easily pick up and handle--that is until he became sick. Because of this I never knew he was losing weight. Birds have a way of disguising illness by fluffing their feathers.

At first I thought he was malnourished from having a very hooked beak, which you may recall in an earlier post I clipped and filed. This definitely helped him eat more, and he had a voracious appetite up until the end. He regained his strength, and I moved him from the utility bathroom back into his coop apartment when the new peeps expanded into all our spare space.

But his health went slowly downhill. After the new flock moved into their coop, he came back in the house where I could more easily tend to him and he didn't have to endure the summer heat. I began cooking for him, meals that Farmer Rick says were better than what I cooked for us! In the afternoons I'd take him outside where he'd flirt with the hens from the comfort of my lap.

Farewell, Rooster-o, you will be missed by all of us!

Sunday Stills: Sound

Ed has given us quite the challenge with this week's subject of sound!

With fifteen roosters, there's really no lack of sound to photograph in my world. Here's King Avelino, a Gold Laced Polish, telling the world good morning, as Gino, a Sicilian Buttercup, waits his turn.

Otto, an Apenzeller Spitzhauben, puts in his opinion about the day. It seems all of them decided it was a day for endless crowing. Could it be they know our neighbors are trying to have a wedding next door right now?

Thought you might get a kick out of this. Out of kindness we took our rescue sheep, blind Phoebe and her son Finley, to the far side of the property early this morning to graze since their pen is not too far from where the wedding was going to take place. When they hear people around they like to tell you in a noisy way they are hungry, because no matter how much we feed these two they are always looking for a handout.

While I was uploading the chicken photos, I heard Finley's distress call, a loud, low, persistent baaah that means "momma, come quick!" (Any hope for a peaceful country wedding by this time was crushed). So I rushed down the creek, and there was Finley coming to get me to lead me to the problem. I love it when he "boings" as if all four legs were pogo sticks.



Up the hill we go to a thicket and he shows me the problem: Phoebe is tangled in green brier and juniper. He's been caught in green brier before and thought something was "biting" him.



I was getting dressed up in case they invited me to the wedding! Sheep!

For more noisy photos, be sure to visit Sunday Stills!

Blog Friends Meet

Friday afternoon while driving through the Manzano and Sandia Mountains of New Mexico we were able to stop in to visit my blog friend Lisa and her wonderful family at Laughing Orca Ranch. We met through the Sunday Stills Photography Challenge.

We're both two tall southwestern ranch girls with cameras and lots of interesting animals! We are posing with the fly-masked Baby Doll, her lovely paint mare.

Here is Latte, a Mini LaMancha goat with the sweetest blue eyes and elfin ears. I want one!!!

And Moon Pie (or is it his sibling Mud Pie?) giving hand nibbles.
One of our many shared interests is in preserving heritage breeds. Both of us have Gold Lace Polish roosters ruling our roosts. To the left in the flock is a Churro, one of New Mexico's heritage sheep whose coarse wool is used in the making of rugs. Farmer Rick loved the llamas and now he wants one. (I have wanted a llama for a long time).

We loved the horse trailer too!!!

Lisa, thanks so much for the tour, cookies, tea and home grown peaches! Farmer Rick and I enjoyed our visit and hope you will come see us sometime!

Love is Apparently Not Blind

Elvis figures out how to roost. He had to lose the blue suede shoes first.

Since moving the older chickens to the coop, some of the young 'uns in our bathtub have figured out they can jump out. I began to wonder if I couldn't just start sneaking them into the new coop instead of moving them into the newly vacated bathroom.

First, I started with the young Silver Laced Polish, the only other one being Elvis. Because Elvis hasn't crowed or been in fisticuffs with the other roosters, I was beginning to wonder if he was a she.

But the moment the younger one entered, he did a double-take. Which was pretty funny with that big pouf on his head. He rushed over, then twisted his neck so he could see her eye to eye. Then he circled her, and gave her a wing and a peck, thus claiming her for himself. No one challenged. I thought it was very interesting he recognized her as his type of gal.

A little later, I brought over the young Buff Laced Polish, who was instantly recognized by the older one we named Little Bird (after our other hen Big Bird), who ran over to "groom" her new charge. I'm thinking they are both female, because there was no flirting. We are calling her Little Bitty Bird. I think she looks like Woodstock from Peanuts.

Pressing my luck, I brought over a Gold Laced Polish hen. Avelino, the Gold Laced Polish head-honcho rooster, strutted over like a pirate (he reminds us of Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean), circled her with the drama of a toreador with his wing down like a cape, and gave her a peck.

Everything was bliss between the all the "couples" and the rest of the flock. Breeds do recognize their own. How hunky dory!

That is, until Geno the Buttercup, Bruno the Brabanter, Marco the Marans, and Otto the Spitzhauben all decided this hen was the most beautiful they had ever seen. (Well, she is beautiful!) So, now I know it's go for your own breed, unless a real hottie shows up.

Introducing...Angelina.

You can only imagine what happened next. The biggest free-for-all between the roosters busted out, and the hens all started running around like the sky was falling, and everyone was chasing or being chased, and pecking or being pecked, and some chairs got busted, and whiskey bottles crashed over combs, and when the shots rang out the piano player jumped behind the roosts...

Anyway, I had to bring Angelina back to the tub. Sigh. She is looking over a contract for the cover of Cosmo as we speak.