Weekend Chickens
So many of you have asked for chicken updates that I thought I’d share a few pictures to contribute to your Sunday morning (if you don’t like chickens, read no further & my apologies).
The big news around here is that our youngest hen, Cleo, has just started laying eggs! Here she is in one of the cozy new nesting boxes.
Cleo is a cross between a Silky (the fluffy dinosaur-like chickens) and Pickles, our sweet Cream-Crested Legbar, who lays blue eggs. Cleo’s eggs are a pretty brown that’s more typical of Silkies, but she’s a beautiful chicken and a little bit feisty, which makes her fun to have around.
I haven’t finished putting everything back to rights in our backyard since we built the new coop. But Pickles is okay with this stray chair that’s still underneath her favorite Japanese maple. She’s been finding a lot of worms there, which she defends vigilantly from anyone who tries to peck their way in. When she’s not busy doing chicken things, she likes to sun herself on the chair.
Everyone has settled into the new coop very nicely. I’m a fan of the new spaceship-looking feeder.
It’s getting to be that time of year around here—Penelope is sitting on top of a few eggs. I don’t think she’s been consistent enough to hatch anything. She’s been walking away for a few hours at a time. Still, it’s a nice reminder that spring is here and warmer weather is just around the corner. And it’s entirely possible that I’ve made plans to get a few chicks to add a little variety to our flock anyhow. Please don’t tell my husband.
We’re in this together,
Joyce
To you Joyce and your beautiful chickens!
Woman Feeding Chickens
BY ROY SCHEELE
Her hand is at the feedbag at her waist,
sunk to the wrist in the rustling grain
that nuzzles her fingertips when laced
around a sifting handful. It’s like rain,
like cupping water in your hand, she thinks,
the cracks between the fingers like a sieve,
except that less escapes you through the chinks
when handling grain. She likes to feel it give
beneath her hand’s slow plummet, and the smell,
so rich a fragrance she has never quite
got used to it, under the seeming spell
of the charm of the commonplace. The white
hens bunch and strut, heads cocked, with tilted eyes,
till her hand sweeps out and the small grain flies.
***
Although I eagerly anticipate your scholarly breakdowns of the legal issues ahead each week, I must admit that your chicken dialogs have become the most welcome and uplifting gifts imaginable. I never could have imagined the welcome respite from the worry and torment we face from determined forces trying to destroy our democracy, that your sugar coated chick licks soothe and calm the soul. Thank you so much for all that you are and the gifts that you bestow upon us all Joyce. You should be wearing one of those Avenger super hero suits so everyone will recognize you. Thus, Spake.