So, the Gold Laced Wyandotte hen that I thought was dead wasn’t. I found her this morning and put her in a small pen with her friend the RIR and a crazy blind chicken. something was amiss with her foot. I went and got food and water - when i returned, she was dead.
On on the same track
I forgot to change my shoes this morning and am wearing my barn flip flop-ish shoes which are bright pink and blue striped. Also caked with barn offal and feathers.
And I didn’t realize that when I snagged my pants on the chain link as I was leaving this morning that it tore a big golf ball sized hole in the ass of my pants. This was pointed out to me by our sales team.
Luckily I returned to the car where i had a long-sleeved shirt that i now have tied around my waist.
As I was putting the shirt around my waist, I knocked over my mason jar of iced coffee shattering it on the asphalt.
When i came back in I was met by one of the sales guys, He’d squatted down to check on an order and tore out the back of his pants - so we are twins with long sleeved items around our waists. It’s a thing here…join us, won’t you?
I found this stuff called “Pralinutta” — it’s like Nutella but Belgian. AWESOME and an item allowed in my heaven. Yum. Covers a lot of the days wrongs…
So a friend posted on FB that she was looking for a home for three chicks. Okay. Her friend is giving them away for free. Okay. I ask about the birds, nothing.
On Mondays I do an egg run in Burbank so I contact the guy and I swing buy the house to collect the chicks.
They are not chicks - they are 4 month old roosters. Three of them. Terrified and looking incredibly ratty. I take them though I don’t need three roosters. Regardless, I can give them a better life here at least for awhile.
I talk to the guy and he admits he knew they were roosters. He’d killed the rest of the birds. All the chicks he’d been given on Craigslist were roosters. He didn’t know how to process the meat so they didn’t age it or brine it and ihis wife overcooked it — it was like shoe leather. The birds are tiny at 4 months so it would be like eating a leather Cornsh Game hen.
He was embarrassed, he needed to get the rooster out of his yard or to eat them, but that had not gone well and the neighbors were complaining about the crowing. Roosters are not allowed in in his city.
I put them in a pen and will hold them there for a couple of weeks before introducing them to the rest of the flock. I feel for them, they are sweet enough boys but shaking with fear. They can chill in the pen for a bit and get their bearings. They were okay with me petting them tonight, I hope they will be friendly tomorrow. I don’t know what breed they are. Pretty enough.
I’m hoping that they will get along together in the pen.
I powdered most of the grown hens tonight - about 75 birds dipped in Diatomateous earth - which has the consistency of powdered sugar. It would all have gone well if they didn’t flap theur wings. I’d post a photo but I don’t want to get this on my camera (or my phone.) Hopefully this will help knock down the mite population. Fingers crossed.
Bella is aloof, she’s all about ‘her job’. If I call her to me, she will come dutifully and let me pet her for a minute but then go back to whatever she was doing.
Maya is her sister a year younger - she is a total love bug. If I’m laying on the couch, she will come join me, put her paws around my neck and lay her face along my neck. Like she’s hugging me. I’ve never had a dog that does this before. I adore this about her.
Abandoned Victorian Style Greenhouse, Villa Maria, in northern Italy near Lake Como. Photo taken in 1985 by Friedhelm Thomas
I’d love to live here - how fabulous is this place? Plus greenhouse. Plus villa. Plus Italy. Plus Lake Como. Plus the hudreds of thousands of euros it would take to get it back to its former glory. But what great bones.
I’ve misplaced the flash drive a client loaned me. I copied everything off of it and may have to return the content to to him on another drive until his turns up, but I’ve probably really lost it by moving everything around looking for it. I hate that. Grr.
Apparently one or both of my puppies has been stung by a bee/wasp. Now if a fly comes anywhere near them, they leap up and run aimlessly around like a 12 year old girl. They are big, sedentary creatures so it is ridiculous to see, but a great source of amusement for me.
I like to sit in the chick pen as they are settling in for the night. Once everyone finds their place and quiets down there’s a quiet kind of murmuring that takes place among the birds. Like they’re chanting evening prayers under their breath. I don’t know why it makes me happy but it does.