The chickens around this place are a little more ridiculous than normal these days. You see, I hatched out a batch of chicks with my students this year, and after all of that was said and done, we’ve got 10 birds that have survived. They’re the teenagers of this pack, and, for the most part, they’re a gang of teenagers.
They hang out, get bullied by some of the adults (maybe their parents), but there’s a total hierarchy amongst them. Two of them (we call them the Egyptians, due to their colouring), have started roosting in the house at night, on the TOP most roosting bar, pooping on all of the adult birds below them, all night long. But, as teenagers are wont to do, and to be, there’s one that just doesn’t fit in. Normally, in human situations, I would blame this on the big group, and accuse them of being conformist and traditional and rude and mean. This, however, is not a human situation, and the bird who doesn’t fit in is by no means normal. Not in the cool, non-conformist way of not being normal either.
She’s just stupid.
She gets lost in the forest. When we call her, she wanders further afield. Last night she didn’t even make it back to the house, and so very easily could have been eaten by any one of the predators in our creek… but she didn’t, so she was out there this morning, cheep peeping along, trying to find her way home. Seriously. In the wild, this chicken would be dead long ago. The way it stands now, I don’t know how long she’ll survive.
Plus, on top of the teenagers, we have a baby.
Although, the baby is growing up fast (don’t they always?). She was hatched out by a pair of moms (a lesbian love story in the chicken house), and the moms have swapped their momly duties in the past month or so that she’s been around. The baby’s gone back to the barred rock mom, who is looking as disheveled as any new mom I know. The other mom, a red rock, has gone back to the land of Ferdinand, our rooster. The saga in the chicken yard is mighty ridiculous these days.
Stories on the farm are as to be expected. The cooler crops (peas, salad, lettuce, broccoli, etc.) are really enjoying the cool weather. Imagine that, huh? The warmer (and the hot ones especially) like corn and tomatoes and cucumbers and some of my flowers would like it a little… warmer? So would I. Then I would spend more time at the beach and the lake and in the water and that would make me happy. Either way, warm or cool, the garden is growing. I took a few pictures at our market table this morning (I ALWAYS forget until the end of the market, when the table looks sad and depleted), but my camera was on a funny setting, so excuse the general non-focusness of the pictures. Then, when I went onto the farm to take some pictures, all I took shots of was flowers. And broccoli. I like broccoli. I’m clearly biased in regards to the crops we grow, but I think you all already knew that.