Birds of A Feather!

 Birds of A Feather!

 

Lately the hens have been dropping feathers in the yard, but it does not necessarily mean that they are molting. Not really sure if the summer heat caused the extra feathers to drop or exactly what, but feathers are in the bottom of the coops, in the nests, and all around in the yard. The Black-laced Wyandottes have the prettiest feathers! Well, Athena has pretty feathers, too, but she has already molted once already this year and finally got all her feathers back in. She was pretty sad looking there for a bit. Have you ever seen a chicken with its neck almost naked? Pretty sad. And then there are the tail feathers that should be there and weren’t. Oh well. She is happy and healthy looking now. Still only lays an egg maybe every two weeks, so obviously we are on the downhill slide of her hen life. Some of them just don’t live very long. Grandmother Pollard had only one hen who lived to be at least eight years old. She would look out there every morning to see if the hen was still alive. She fed her and talked to her, but no amount of encouragement got any eggs out of the old girl. Not that Grandmother was counting on her for their breakfast or anything. Still, the reason Athena came to live here was the fact that only one hen was left of the Gold Sex Link hens. Chickens need a mate or at least another chicken to be happy. They are, after all, flock birds.

 

Don’t remember now who it was who noticed that my hens seem to stay together by color—the Marans and the Wyandottes separate themselves from the Rhode Island Red, Athena, and Isa. When they are all out there around the drain from the washing machine looking for bugs, it is a fairly mixed group. Not sure why they appeal to me so much, but they are just lovely in my estimation. But it does not take much to make me smile some days.

 

Took Patty’s trash bin back down to her place this morning; then went to Sutherland’s and got two house keys made for her to give to her friend and to her step-son. She told me how to easily get into the house without breaking a window then in case something happened and she needed to be rescued. Hope that never happens! Took her mail to her and loaded up some more pants of Donny’s and some new socks that he never even got to wear. Those will be sent to Ft. Worth with one of the kids for whichever boys need them. Really miss Donny, so know for sure that she does, too.

 

Our road is so quiet without many drivers going up and down it now. Patty has her lunch delivered sometimes, and the Fed-Ex or Fed-Up trucks or the mail truck sometimes make it up the road, but otherwise, the street is pretty quiet. My bark-alarms go off more often when the folks over on Church Street move around their trucks than for anything else. Patty says that her bark-alarms go off because of my dogs! Or rabbits. She calls them “bunny rabbits.” They set off her motion detector lights during the night.

 

Still have a passel of rats and mice. Need to go slather more peanut butter on Lance’s trap. The snap traps did not catch anything last night, but the critters may be getting wiser. Just wish the dogs could catch as many rats as Thompson catches doves!

 

Did not really need the AC units today. It has been pleasant all day, if somewhat windy this morning. If the cushions on the yard swing had not been fastened down with a bungee cord, they would probably be in the freaking lake! As it is, the rose bush had a yellow plastic bag attached to it by a handle, the hanging basket on the deck was blown off the deck and onto the ground, the OFF spray ended up against the post on the far side of the deck, and the rug under my chair was blown up over the bottom of the chair. Yeppers. We had wind last night. Patty said that one of the last times we had wind like this, it blew over her yard swing. But this time the swing was in a more protected place. Good thing! It is fairly light weight, but not sure that the two of us could have put it up right.

 

It won’t be long before we start getting our fall rains. The dressed stone path that Jerry laid out between the deck and the hen house will keep me from bogging down in the mud, but have begun to hope that we don’t have the kind of snow storm we had back in February of this year. Staying warm has never really been that big of an issue except for this year and one year back in the 80s. We had a freeze that year that froze WAY down into the ground and caused all kinds of problems for the city water pipes. Not sure if all those pipes have been replaced by now, but would not be surprised if they had not. Our city only does what it HAS to do at any given time. Sad, but probably about par for most cities. At least we have decent water that is not poisonous or full of lead. It may be recycled poo, but the drugs in it are not as dangerous as the lead in the water of Detroit.

 

When Jennifer was here over the weekend, she asked me not to plant anything else in the flower beds. She wants me to use containers that don’t have to be weeded. It makes sense because weeding is not easy to do unless one is sitting down on the ground—and then there is the situation of getting UP off the ground. My “go-to” position is the “rising cow.” That means my hands are down on the ground, while my back end comes up to get steady enough to let the other end get balanced. Just watch your favorite cow if you are wondering. A horse gets up totally opposite of a cow.

 

Guess it is about time to go put out some peanut butter and see if the hens are ready to go up for the night. The dogs have been a bit lazy today—our excuse is that it felt too good to work at anything. They got more exercise than yours truly, but they don’t drive, either. They would have been happy to go to Sutherland’s if a stop at McDs had meant a sausage biscuit for each of them. Nope, not today. Maybe the next trip. Lazy ol’ woman has to bring the truck up so they won’t get too far away from me. It’s funny, but Patty exercises her dogs by watching for me to come down and letting the dogs out to come greet me. They run like a house on fire! Good exercise! And now that Rudy no longer bites my ankles, he wants to be petted as much as Roxie does. Strange things to make friends with dogs!

 

Please remember those who mourn, those who have to suffer watching their loved ones hurting and dying, and those who have no where to go in this world. May God give us compassion and wisdom.

 

Rest well, and know that you are loved.