Saturday afternoon our friend John brought over his backhoe, and removed from our pastures all of the stumps from the alder trees we had removed. We've been having rain again, on and off, so the soil is pretty wet. Once things dry out a bit, John will return with is big Kubota tractor, and harrow the fields so we can fertilize and replant them. For now, it's a pretty mucky mess out there. The pasture is clear now, though, with lots of space for forage grass, and no more messy "weed trees." I like trees to stay in the woods where they belong, and I like grassy, open pastures for my animals.
We had John pile all of the stumps up in a small clearing in our woods. Over time, the "snag" they formed will become a habitat for lots of little critters.
Our neighbor, Michael, brought us a dozen and a half eggs this evening. His chickens have begun laying again now that we're having more hours of daylight. He prefers to let them take the winter off, and just let nature take it's course, rather than "lengthening the day" with artificial light. He's building The Henhouse Extraordinaire, but it's not quite complete, so the hens are creating their own Easter egg hunt all over the neighborhood, and even in Michael's woods. His kids had fun on Saturday afternoon searching all over their property for eggs.
The hens are cute and funny, and they are very good at begging treats at my door. A month or so ago, I made the mistake of feeding them some dried corn that was past it's prime for grinding into corn meal, and now I'm their "best friend forever." Unfortunately, they repay me for my occasional hospitality by "fertilizing" my front and back decks!
They watch (listen?) for me to return from teaching Seminary in the morning, and then hurry across the street to greet me as I get out of my car. When I ran out of corn, I stopped feeding them for a while, but they still continued to greet me, and to congregate on the front porch, especially on rainy days.
One of four barred-rock (salt & pepper) hens is smaller than the other chickens, and has a crippled foot, so she's last in pecking order. She is slower than her "sisters," but is particularly friendly. I don't know whether Michael has names for his chickens, but I call her "Sweetie," and I talk to her, and protect her from her greedy flock-mates. Well, evidentally, they've figured this out. After I hadn't given them any treats for several days, Sweetie appeared outside my (glass) front door, "all by herself," looking so cute and vulnerable. I just couldn't resist; I stepped out the door with a little container of cracked corn (YES, I bought more). No sooner had I opened the door than the whole flock came charging around the end of the garage and up onto the porch. If I didn't know better, I'd think they were hiding, and had sent Sweetie in as a shill! Here's a shot of them enjoying a treat; I don't think Sweetie is in the photo. When it's cold and wet, she tends to stay in her henhouse because it's such a struggle for her to navigate.
Michael thinks it's only a matter of time before I succomb to "chicken fever," (not to be confused with avian flu), and buy a little flock of my own. He keeps pointing out that I have a couple of unused outbuildings, either of which could very easily be converted into a henhouse. I'm reading about chickens now, and enjoying the incubator webcam on the University of Nebraska website, and I have even subscribed to Backyard Poultry magazine, but I haven't decided to take the plunge...yet.
We had John pile all of the stumps up in a small clearing in our woods. Over time, the "snag" they formed will become a habitat for lots of little critters.
Our neighbor, Michael, brought us a dozen and a half eggs this evening. His chickens have begun laying again now that we're having more hours of daylight. He prefers to let them take the winter off, and just let nature take it's course, rather than "lengthening the day" with artificial light. He's building The Henhouse Extraordinaire, but it's not quite complete, so the hens are creating their own Easter egg hunt all over the neighborhood, and even in Michael's woods. His kids had fun on Saturday afternoon searching all over their property for eggs.
The hens are cute and funny, and they are very good at begging treats at my door. A month or so ago, I made the mistake of feeding them some dried corn that was past it's prime for grinding into corn meal, and now I'm their "best friend forever." Unfortunately, they repay me for my occasional hospitality by "fertilizing" my front and back decks!
They watch (listen?) for me to return from teaching Seminary in the morning, and then hurry across the street to greet me as I get out of my car. When I ran out of corn, I stopped feeding them for a while, but they still continued to greet me, and to congregate on the front porch, especially on rainy days.
One of four barred-rock (salt & pepper) hens is smaller than the other chickens, and has a crippled foot, so she's last in pecking order. She is slower than her "sisters," but is particularly friendly. I don't know whether Michael has names for his chickens, but I call her "Sweetie," and I talk to her, and protect her from her greedy flock-mates. Well, evidentally, they've figured this out. After I hadn't given them any treats for several days, Sweetie appeared outside my (glass) front door, "all by herself," looking so cute and vulnerable. I just couldn't resist; I stepped out the door with a little container of cracked corn (YES, I bought more). No sooner had I opened the door than the whole flock came charging around the end of the garage and up onto the porch. If I didn't know better, I'd think they were hiding, and had sent Sweetie in as a shill! Here's a shot of them enjoying a treat; I don't think Sweetie is in the photo. When it's cold and wet, she tends to stay in her henhouse because it's such a struggle for her to navigate.
Michael thinks it's only a matter of time before I succomb to "chicken fever," (not to be confused with avian flu), and buy a little flock of my own. He keeps pointing out that I have a couple of unused outbuildings, either of which could very easily be converted into a henhouse. I'm reading about chickens now, and enjoying the incubator webcam on the University of Nebraska website, and I have even subscribed to Backyard Poultry magazine, but I haven't decided to take the plunge...yet. 
