Friday, November 2, 2012

- Homestead Happenings

I went home this past weekend for one last visit before I make my holiday pilgrimage in December.  It was glorious.  Why?  I'll show you...
I ate these until I made myself sick on sugar.  Krispy Kreme doesn't exist in MN.  When Fahtar was all "You want that?  Man we got to go 15 miles into town to get them." I was all "15 miles?!  You want to know where the nearest one to me is?  267 miles away in WISCONSIN."  That settled that, and I finally satisfied my craving.  Their pumpkin spice donut is my new favorite thing.  The stomachache I got from eating 3 donuts in one day is my new least favorite thing.

True to my being home form, I wore pajamas for like two straight days.  Then, when I got back to the Minnie I pulled out my sweatshirt and it smelled like home.  It still kind of does.  I don't want to wash it because I don't want it to not smell like home.

It's where my heart is.

One of my favorite things to do while home is to roam the homestead.  Like our free range chickens.
Those are the Americanas.  They are about one month from being mature enough to lay eggs, and when they do, their eggs will be a pretty blue-green color.  Those ladies were just little chicks when I saw them for the first time over the 4th of July.  The coolest thing about them how prehistoric they look...
Look at those cheek tuffs.

When you have this many chickens (with plans to get even more) not all of them get names.  Out of this flock of 8, I caught two completely appropriate names: Greybeard, who is shown here in the bottom right and Brownie, in the top left background
Also pictured: Random Americana in the left forefront who photobombed my shot.

The coolest thing about these guys, by far, is the way they sound.  It's not the typical "bock bock bock" sound that our other chickens make and Tweety imitates.  It's this other noise that sounds like it's straight out of Jurassic Park:
Some of the louder sounds in there are me trying to get them to "talk".  Also in the background you can hear our rooster crow, because he's always crowing.  
Those are the other chickens, the first flock my mom got.  I believe she started with Jeff the crowmaster and 6 hens.  One died early on, 4 got carried off when a fox literally got into the henhouse, which just left one black hen who apparently hadn't ever laid an egg in her life and was clearly at the bottom of the pecking order - which is totally a real thing.  Then Mom got the two big white hens from someone else and Blackie apparently started laying eggs.  Mamsie let her sit on some and when one was another rooster, Jeff Jr.
Jeff - he's pretty but he is no where near nice.  He will come at you spurs first in the blink of an eye and Fahtar regularly has to use a garden rake to corral him from a safe distance.
Jeff and 2 of his 3 women
Baby rooster (Jeff Jr.) on the left, Jeff on the right.  White hen photobombing.  What is it with those hens getting up in my pictures?

If you think the chickens are the only thing "talking" at home - think again.  This is one of our outdoor tabby cats, Smudge.
She's sweet and mews and likes for you to pet her.  The other one Smidge is a complete weirdo who also mews loudly at the front door, but when you come out she just runs away.  She's also really fat and will disappear for days.

Then there's Nina.  Old Neens.  A gigantic oaf of a barrel chested black lab who refuses to great you empty mouthed.  She brought me an empty canister of ant killer, and a small rotten tomato before I made her get her bone.  Not wanting to be left out, she will also "talk" to you in the form of this friendly growl she has.  
Tweety, my resident cockatiel, also talks.  But he's pretty much useless and wouldn't let me photograph him - but there should be plenty of opportunities for that later.  He's moving to the Minnie with Emma and I after Christmas.  

Besides the animals, the garden is still going in full force.  On Sunday after Hurricane Sandy skirted through town Mom and I went out to there to "harvest".  They have anaheim peppers out of the wazoo so we picked some for dinner, collected the pecans that had fallen from both of our trees and gathered the eggs from the chicken coop.
Then I went back inside to lay on the couch because chasing chickens for photographs is hard work, and I am after all, a "city girl". 

1 comment:

Mams said...

Great pictures of the Homestead! We miss you already▼▼▼