All Our Ducks in a Row

Today, when we woke up all our ducks were in a row!

Farmer Rick and I have much to be thankful for--we've made it through another year together including our better foibles in chicken husbandry and accidental gardening, and our worse drought in history. His love did not waver even when I persisted on having curved walls in the new coop, and admits his carpentry skills improved with my nagging encouragement.

Nor did he admonish me for the outrageous debt we incurred from me having to take rabies shots after being bitten by the fox. Yea, he understands and supports my need to rescue critters, stick fingers into their wild mouths and to nurse them back to health. He loves my cooking--even when I forget that I am cooking and serve dinner a la charra y el carbon.

I have come to enjoy being awakened at 4 a.m. when he begins playing Chopin etudes and Joplin rags, mistaking my back for the piano in his deep slumber, and have begun to see it as a new way to get a jump on my busy day. I look the other way when he consumes all the household pickles, and gleefully cap the toothpaste and shampoo after him, because secretly I think I got the better end of this deal. He assures me we are equally fortunate!

People tell us we were made for each other. Indeed, we are cut from the same recycled cloth, quilted together by the poets, nobility, explorers, and farmers of our ancestry, having since discovered an 8th great-grandmother and 21st great-grandfather in common. When we cross the creek, neither of us can remember what we went there for.

Honey?

Uh hum?

Look, all our ducks are in a row! How cute!

But...we don't have any ducks!

Oh...You're right!



Y'all better go home!

Return of the Magical Mystery Egg

When we first began keeping chickens, we bought a dozen ceramic eggs to place in the nesting boxes to give the girls the idea of where we wanted them to lay. This might seem silly to those of you who do not keep chickens, but it is a fact that young pullets are just as likely to lay one on top of your head as in the nest box without a little instructional guidance!

Soon we were awash in eggs, and selling them to friends and neighbors. I collected up the fake eggs, which were no longer necessary, only to discover there were now only 11. Our greatest fear was we had accidentally sold one of these great imitations to someone expecting a dozen edible ones! Yet no one would own up to receiving the mystery egg.

This weekend, while digging up some of the composted soil that washed down with the last rain into the creek, Farmer Rick discovered the missing egg! It looks as if it has fooled quite a few egg eaters by all the tooth marks on both ends. I'd love to know how it got into the creek, and where all it's been the last three years! Maybe this has given predators the idea our eggs aren't too palatable!

Don't Worry: You Just Aren't My Type

This morning we planted four types of cucumbers and some dill.

Pulling weeds in the garden this afternoon, I dislodged this Checkered Garter Snake, Thamnophis marcianus. We love diversity. This is a new addition to our species list. It was eating a small toad or spider when I ran for the camera.

For those of you afraid of snakes, there are a couple of comforting things you should know:

1. Snakes desire only two things in life--eating and mating--and you aren't appropriate for either.
2. You can outrun any snake.

During times of drought, they will come out after a rain to find something to eat. We got a little rain yesterday, which was refreshing. The evening air smelled earthy and complex, like patchouli. The sky is grumbling like it wants to rain again. Let's keep our fingers crossed!

She's Gone

It's hard to come to terms with a missing pet, even the chicken kind. I had a good cry last night.

Possums, raccoons, and skunks eat only their favorite parts and leave behind the rest of the evidence. But when the body is missing it is likely the work of a coyote, predator bird, bobcat...or fox.

We have all of the latter. I even suspect the neighbor's black cat whom I've caught stalking the chickens before from the outside of the fence. But, pardon the pun, wouldn't it just bite if it were a fox, after my recent ordeal?

I've set out a Have-a-Heart trap in hopes of relocating the culprit, far, far, away.

I'm thinking on the Polish peeps I'm getting next month I'll be giving them stylish cuts when they grow up so they can see better. I read about a woman who did this to hers in a poultry magazine.

Meanwhile, there ain't no sunshine when she's gone.