Reblogging old posts #6

So, I went out to collect the eggs the other day.

 

Most of the girls were pretty good, though 2 were trying their best to fit into one nesting box, gave me a few warning pecks when I tried to grab an egg. Oh well, they were probably uncomfortable and cranky. 🙂

 

But one of the roosters! When I bent over to open the water jug, he jumped me. And not in a fun way either.

 

He left five gouges in my knee where his claws ripped through my pants. I was bleeding! Not impressed!

 

I got into a kicking contest with him, which was a bit unfair as I was trying not to hurt him. He, however, had no such constrictions about me. Eventually I had to kick him hard enough to send him into a corner of the coop, where he stayed hissing like a cat, and his feathered ruff extended like those little dinosaurs in Jurassic Park.

 

I didn’t realize how badly I as bleeding until I got back in the house. Jim says not to worry so much about hurting the rooster, we got three more. And he can be replaced!

Reblogging old posts #5

So, it’s strike two for the rooster, the little, vicious one.  He jumped me again today when we let them out in the yard.

                           The little bastard gives the camera the ‘hairy eye’.

 

I’ll start at the beginning….

 

A few weeks ago the littlest (but alpha) rooster attacked me while I was filling their food & water.  He attacked, full on, talons out (look at photo for an idea of why that’s bad) and put several bleeding gashes in my right knee.  I kicked him off, several times before he gave up the fight.  In the end I’d had to kick him pretty hard to get him to stop attacking.

 

                                Look at the hook on the back of his leg!

 

 He’s been pretty good since, staying out of my way, shooting me sulky looks.  Odd thing is he’s not the biggest rooster in the chicken house.  Seriously.  He’s about 3/4 the size of the other black rooster and 1/2 the size of Pretty boy.

 

Today, we headed out to the coop, and as I rounded the corner of the garage, I spotted a 6 foot length of aluminum tubing.  Although the rooster had been fine for weeks, something told me to bring it. I listen to my little voices… er, not in a weird way… you know what I mean!  I brought the pipe!

 

Good thing too.  The girls were acting a bit strange, didn’t want to come out into the yard, which is very odd.  Usually they can’t wait to get out.  So, I’m standing off to one side, 10-15 feet from the coop door, sorta clucking and ‘pretty girl, chick chick’ ing’, and eventually about 6 girls and the little bastard come out.

 

I watched him as he picked his way up the yard, about 3 feet from me, and went past me.  Then I noticed that the girls were staying around the coop, again very odd.  The white girl usually heads straight for the tall grass at the edge of the coop.

 

Maybe the little bastard had been bragging about his plans?  I turned to see where he was just as he attacked.  Again! his time he opened a big gash on my left leg, and may have nicked a blood vessel.  I bled fairly badly and for about 1/2 hour.

 

Anyway, I hit it with the pole and knocked it about 3 feet away.  I would’ve left it at that if he would’ve, but he wouldn’t.  He fluffed up his neck ruff like the little dinosaurs on Jurassic Park and opened his mouth to hiss at me.  Well, I’ve been here before (and saw Jurassic Park!)  so before he could fly at me again, I whacked him like a golf ball about 10 feet to the edge of the coop. 

 

Jim came out of the chicken coop in a hurry, though seeming more puzzled than worried or angry.  “Why did you just hit the chicken like a baseball?”  So I showed him my bleeding leg.  After ascertaining that he had slashed me with his talons, not just a lucky peck, Jim looked like he was going to kill him right there.

 

But being a true romantic, he didn’t want to step on my toes.  That rooster’s head is mine!

 

But, it is a rare breed, and very pretty, so he gets one more ball.  Sorry for the confusion between baseball metaphors and golf comparisons, but hey, I’m an artist not a jock!

 

Either way, the little bastard gets one more chance.  He attacks again and I have chicken stew for supper.  After all, there are 3 more roosters.

 

                                           Pretty Boy with the girls.

Reblogging old posts #4

So, Little Bastard tried for the crown the other day.  But he’s  bad king wannabe, he attacked from behind, for the second time.  And lost for the second time.

The heat is killing us.  We lost a rooster to heat stroke yesterday, fortunately it wasn’t Pretty Boy, unfortunately it wasn’t Little Bastard either. 

The chickens are really feeling the heat, laying is way down.  Don’t blame them, the humidex was 44C, they were probably too hot to push.

Little bastard attacked Jim the  other day.  Drew blood, though not as much as when he attacked me last time.

You should’ve seen Jim smacking him upside the head a few times, the chasing him with the hose.  We now understand the saying “madder than a wet hen”.  The girls Little Bastard tried to hide behind were not pleased by the collateral damage.

Jim sprayed him every time he saw him for a couple of days.  He’s a much better behaved bird now.

Reblogging old posts #3

Porn; noun, short form of pornography, photos or video of sexual acts, or fantasies….

 

Well, what I fantasize about during the cold snowy winter, is gardening…. ergo, my seed catalogues have started arriving.  🙂

 

So, do I dig into my seed storage and buy to replace the old seeds (probably the wise move), not replace it (probably the hubby’s preference), or buy all the new fascinating varieties (probably not the wise move)?  And how much to plant?  My back gets worse every year, I’m starting to need a gardener!

 

And then there’s the chickens….  The girls will be 2 yrs old this spring and the laying has really dropped off in the cold.  From 18 a day to a maximum of 6.  They are no longer paying for their own feed.  we stand to lose a few $hundreds this tax year, and more next year if they don’t hop to it.

 

So, should we get more layers in the spring, or let things wind up naturally?  Having the girls really limits our travel as they must be fed/ watered at least every second day (every day in summer) so we can only go away overnight.  Unless we can find a sitter.

But I do love farm fresh eggs and chicken meat.  So I’m looking at heirloom breeds that are hardy and prolific.  Any suggestions?

Reblogging old posts #2

So, I go out to do a bit of weeding before the rain starts, because Gods know the weeds don’t need any more water, and hear odd, guilty clucking from the barn.  Not the coop, the barn.  Then I see a flash of cinnamon in the tall grass.

Shit!  There has been an escape.

 

Somehow the door to the chicken run had blown open and half the chickens had run free before we noticed.  While we normally let the chickens run outside for a while every day, we are there to keep an eye on them.  The neighbour has dogs, there are wild foxes in the area, and traffic goes by at about 120.

 

We also keep them out of the garden.

 

Don’t let people tell you that chickens have no expressions on their faces, because the girls in the garden looked extremely guilty.  They should feel guilty, they broke a number of the bean seedlings and apparently dug up and ate all my unsprouted seed: turnips, swiss chard, spinach, 3 types of squash, cucumber….. sigh…..gotta hope I have enough seeds to replant.  Or hope that all the scratch marks mean that they looked, but maybe didn’t find.

 

Little bastard decided to take the opportunity to attack Jim, but Jim was expecting it. Little bastard got a face full of icy water before he even got fully into position.  That should cool his jets for awhile.  lol

 

Reblogging old posts #1

Yeti, Yeti, Yeti…..

 

He’s been peeing on the floor since Jim’s niece’s wedding, when we were gone for a week.  So after we tried everything we and our friends and family could think of, we took him to the vet.

Maybe it’s a bladder infection, maybe it’s FUS, maybe it’s something else.  But no, he’s in perfect health.

 

It’s emotional problems.  Yeti has separation anxiety.  It started when we were gone for so long, and ontinued because Jim went back to work after months off.

 

Jim tried saying, “You’re a cat Dude, get over it!”  But it didn’t work.

 

The vet suggested we start him on anti-anxiety meds, but I can’t imagine that shoving a pill down his throat daily would be LESS stress than Jim going to work.  So we bought some $36 cat food with anti-anxiety stuff in it.  Yeti loved it!  But it had zero effect on the peeing.

 

So, in a fit of frustration I tossed his frigging arse outside.  He has always been an indoors cat.  So he hid under the porch until I crawled in to get him.  Next day he was at the door, begging to get out.  So now he thinks he loves it outside, well, up until today’s rainstorm.

 

Yeti:  I want out, I want out!

Me:  It’s raining, you don’t want out.

Yeti: Out!  I want out!

Me: Ok, if you want out….

thirty seconds later….

Yeti:  It’s raining, I want in!

Niece’s wedding

I am leaving tonight for a week in Winnipeg for a niece’s wedding. I’ll be going from the more or less lovely weather here (Sunday was unbeatable!) to cold, rain, and yuck.  I had to repack what I was planning to wear, but my wedding outfit can’t be replaced.  I wonder how it would look with a wooly sweater?
Expect to hear my back and hip crying about the weather all the way to Ottawa.

I leave Marie’s taxes unfinished (which I really hate to do) because I never got all the numbers I need to do them.  I really wanted this off my plate before I left.

But I’m taking my laptop to keep working on the film we want to start Aug 1st, and keep in touch with my bestie.  I woke up thinking that i would miss her, but I’ll still see her on FB and chats.  😀

But the packing is ridiculous.  Pack my pills, no, take them out., you can’t just pack the weekly reminder thing with mixed pills in it  They have to be in current, matched-to-the-pills, prescription bottles.  Pack summery pretty tops, because it’s warmer there.  *raucous buzzer noise* Sorry, a cold front just moved in, change everything for sweaters and long sleeved t shirts.   Pack my throat lozenges, nasonex and… no, buy new there.   Sigh…..

At least the baby plants and the cats have sitters.

yeti migraine new camera 029 IMAGE_062