Following babies...

I love baby time. It is crazy and tiring, staying ahead of hawks and leaving enough little water containers around in just the right places, but they are such fun to watch grow.  I thought I had another photo of the single baby, but I guess not.It has reached the rather spindly stage where they become taller and more awkward.  A bit independent, too, we occasionally have to watch to make sure it remembers where its mama is when I wanders off to eat with other birds.  I snuck into the big pen two days ago, some of those older hens aren't nice to babies, so Wyatt herded it back our to its mama.

These above are the second group of babies.  The mama decided to move them into the hay shed, where she gets angry every time Bailey goes in to get hay and grain for the goats.  She is one the goofy side, but doting on her her babies.  She had her little ones in the buck pen when I first wandered out to check on them all yesterday.  Obediah likes to follow them around, his curiosity high with the little poof balls of silliness.

This group is the newer set of babies, though they don't appear to be much -if any- smaller than the group above.  I believe there are five or six, though more in the light brown coloration as opposed to the darker ones who seem to grow up as Golden Phoenixes.  She is raising her little ones by the tree on the northern end by the old garden.

We still have two to five hen sitting on eggs.  I think the one in the doe barn has some white Ameraucauna eggs from Muffy and one of his girls, though one of his girls is also in a nesting box in the hay shed.  The silver duckwing Ameraucana is in there too, as well as one Phoenix.  They are tag teaming rotating nesting boxes when one goes out to eat or wander.  And then there is the one in the pot on the back porch.  Not sure about her, she seems a bit neurotic to me.  Hopefully that is all in my head, because we will have to move her once her babies hatch.

Well, lots to do!  Better get rolling so we head to town on time,  I need to check in with resource folks and get some grading done before teaching!  Have a great day eveyone!

My Daughter the Princess... nope, didn't see that one coming!

I had spent some time hiding out grading papers and was on my way back toward picking Bailey up at the Prom last night when she called me.  "Hey, how is it going?" I answered, moms don't usually get called during the peak of fun.  "When you pick me up, could you bring me some benadryl, I am reacting to some one's perfume.  Oh, and by the way I won Freshman Prom court." 

Nope, didn't see that one coming.  But she has had a group of seniors who have laughed with her and brought her spirits up, gracefully encouraging her from her eighth grade endeavors in the school musical, inviting her onto the upper high school robotics team and looking out for her like a little sister.  They called her their freshman.  Still, voting en mass for her as Freshman Prom Court?  That was pretty sweet.

To know Bailey like we all do, her character shoes for drama are high enough heels to be dangerous territory.  She lasts about five minutes with them on at a dance, opting for her barefoot redneck ways instead.  Last night, she put them back on for a walk to the parking lot, and crashed at the bottom of the stairs before even trying to go up to the parking lot.  Her middle school PE teacher would say that she falls all the time, but carries her own first aid kit, so she can patch herself back up.  The office staff know her well for her coming in to raid her stash of allergy medicines.  After an entire school year of allergy shots, she still lives on benadryl, though the really bad reactions might be a little shorter.  Wish I had some great option for the hives, though.

At home or 4H, she is never to proud to dive in to catch a lose animal, get dirty to patch one up, or sit in a kidding pen all night waiting for babies to be born and bathed.  She will still dig in the dirt with her brother and crawl under a planter with him to help save a lost baby chick.  Heaven help the tarantula that dares to walk up to one of her livestock pens!  And the night after Christmas, when my Remi had to go to the emergency vet, she would not have left my side, holding my hand and supporting me as we both realized how bad it was.

Silly?  Yes.  Crazy?  Definitely.  Crash a good nickname?  Undeniably.  Fierce defender of friends?  Absolutely.  Willing to work whatever hours to make sure the job is done, the friends are cared for and animals have what they need?  You bet.  Princess?  Not typically synonymous.  She might have been raised to be a good southern girl who can bake family recipes, use appropriate language and manners and write a thank you note, but that walking with a book on her head thing never did work.  Does make a fun game in the evening, though. 

But maybe despite the shallowness we attribute to the coming generation, there are still some who see the good little things.  I know I have watched them reach out to her and look after the huggy little one who doesn't always fit in with her peers.  And I know what it means to her, and to me.  Nice job, kids.  For all the times I see things that scare me about the world, I see kids like the ones who helped Wyatt at fair, and look after Bailey and more who keep a flame in that candle of hope. And boy did she have a good time at that Prom, no date needed.  She will be remembering the great times of this year right alongside the hard ones.  Like Ms V told me last night, it is a cute little crown, looks good on her even if she can't keep it straight.  Love to all.

Auntie's birthday

My Aunt Leannna was born on Cinco De Mayo.  But she really isn't that big on Mexican food.  In our family you get to go all out on your birthday.  You get to put in your order for dinner, then your favorite dessert.

Auntie really doesn't care about the dinner side, unless you can take her out, and I am not strong enough to do the transfers without Charlie, so with him working, Auntie put in her request for the same cake I made last year for her.

This was a German Chocolate Torte.  It involves layers of dark chocolate cake, with layers of german chocolate/ almond fudge and layers of whipped cream.  She had a great time digging in and enjoying it last weekend. just thought I would share a day in the life!

Thursday morning's new baby chicks

These are the new babies chicks which appeared on Thursday morning.

This mama seems to be more relaxed than some, as she led her babies right through morning feeding.  There are actually six of the babies.

One of the chicks has the coloring closest to the mama, the others are a little darker.  The babies hatching now, depending upon which mama hen is hatching, are the last we will have from Sergeant Major and Golden Boy. 

Here, she led her babies away from me to the plough, then under the buggy to head back to the nest she has made under a trough past the North side of the doe pen.

The best part about new babies of any species is the new promise and possibility of a brand new life.  Our Phoenix hens are generally excellent sitters and mamas, who tend closely to their babies and defend them aggressively.  I look forward to seeing who these babies become, and watching what comes of the babies from the other couple of mama sitting on eggs.

A little bit redneck...

"Haboob Hits Tucson"  was the headline of my breaking news email yesterday afternoon.  Gee, ya think?  I had come out of my midday exam, and been hit squarely with an approaching wall of dust.  Normal this time of year for us Tucson folks, though very destructive and impossible to drive through.  Up past the Marana cotton fields, the storms are legendary for pileups as bad as the California grapevine area.  So I guess the sight at home should have come as no surprise.

Charlie picked up the kids for me, as I have a hard time getting out of work on time at the beginning and end of the semester.  Lots of little issues to handle.  So I got home and went out to do chores with the kids, only to find that not only were both greenhouse doors all twisted and missing chunks, but one of the side panels a hole in it over four feet ling and almost two feet wide..

The hole in the side panel- there weren't even any pieces to try to tape back together.  The items which had been on the shelf next to the side panel window had fallen in, onto the greenhouse floor, suggesting that whatever had gone through the panel had been a projectile coming from the outside.

By some strange miracle, the chickens had decided to leave the mess alone and not devour the vegetables and plants inside.  Maybe they thought if they got caught in the greenhouse they are always run off from, that they would be blamed for the mess.

Repairing the greenhouse will require parts, once I have to order in.  The doors, to be honest, this wasn't the first issue there, the high winds this winter have been quite tough.on them.  But I hadn't had a chance yet to call and order the parts, so I suppose now the list is linger.

In the mean time, out came the packing tape.  The right side door is now so bad it is propped closed.  I had previously put milk crates in front of it, but then this week Wyatt had needed some of them for the bantam pen redo.  The panels, we on the doors I had some pieces to tape the windows back together.  On the side panel, however, I just ran tape up and down and created a patch.  It is looking pretty redneck out there!


It wasn't nearly as bad as the tornado that took the one shed, and in the grand scope of life, these are small things.  But it is a little bit redneck- or maybe a lot.  Despite my rather redneck ways, I am not giving in- I love my fresh veggies!  So a little redneck perseverence it is!

My children really need to learn to close the door!

I have often posted about Jalympics.  She was named in the name the chicken contest a couple years back by a member of Wyatt's class.  She has been to petting zoos (one as the damsel on Knight Wyatt's arm and loves to sneak into the house or car to try to raid the groceries.  Her favorite thing to steal is still rice cakes.

I have often caught her sneaking into the house, and occasionally she has a friend, like Golden Boy or Fly with her.  On this occasion, she brought the flightiest of our hens with her- a Phoenix.  The phoenix don't usually come into the house, and don't care for being carried around.  But here she is sneaking into the kitchen.

Jalympics caught me get up with the camera to take a photo as I shooed her out, so she headed for the door, giving me that look over her shoulder to say, "You forgot to sit the rice cakes out for me, anyway."  The Phoenix, on the other hand, headed for the window where the house plants are at the end of the kitchen and spooked, leaving me with another mees to clean up!

Nevertheless, the mess is cleaned up, and I tried again to remind Wyatt why we have screen doors.  As I write this, Jalympics is standing on the hot tub just outside the window by the desk, giving me a lecture.  The young golden phoenix rooster is standing on the front porch railing, crowing and trying to get her attention, and she talks back to him in response.  I suppose we know who really runs this place!

Thinking things through...

I wrote recently about the passing of Sergeant Major. This little golden phoenix hen was one of his ladies.  The day after Sergeant Major passed away from old age, his son, Golden Boy disappeared.  Based upon the loud bang near the tree he shared with Sergeant Major and the ladies, we believe the cat we have been running off got him.

We have been a bit more tolerant of the ladies who want to be broody hens since then.  They have about a week of fertility from him, so whatever they laid and wanted to sit on in the week of County Fair, we have allowed them to continue to nest.

This little hen, however, seems to have not completely thought through her choice of a nesting spot.  She chose to nest in a flower pot.  I keep asking her each time I pass by, "How on Earth do you plan to raise babies in a tiny pot barely large enough for your own rear end?"  She however, just stares at me.  She is not at all phased.  I suppose that is the promised and optimism of motherhood.  Guess I will just keep my fingers crossed for her and move her when the babies are born.  Can't blame a girl for trying, right?