tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57757292581799949502024-03-12T22:23:48.544-04:00The Suburban Chicken and Other Things NaturalFrom the outside looking in, you can never understand it. From the inside looking out, you can never explain it.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-86332529396666713052010-02-26T20:20:00.003-05:002010-02-26T20:25:21.918-05:00Just some Chicken pixPepper leaving the warmth of her coop to grab a bite to eat....<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hzxZXuxjI/AAAAAAAACoU/zIEx54IgReY/s1600-h/february+2010+037.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442727442138449458" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hzxZXuxjI/AAAAAAAACoU/zIEx54IgReY/s400/february+2010+037.jpg" /></a> I shovel them a path to the trampoline where the snow is always less and they can still scratch at the grass to give them the feeling of "spring" (hahaha I wish). After I shovel their path I lay hay down so they dont have to step on the snow.<br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hzxEdqCtI/AAAAAAAACoM/uYol_ui3XKw/s1600-h/february+2010+038.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442727436526160594" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hzxEdqCtI/AAAAAAAACoM/uYol_ui3XKw/s400/february+2010+038.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hzxMojzjI/AAAAAAAACoE/SYohm14UHyQ/s1600-h/february+2010+036.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442727438719372850" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hzxMojzjI/AAAAAAAACoE/SYohm14UHyQ/s400/february+2010+036.jpg" /></a><br />Here Maddy is slightly confused about where the path went. Don't worry I picked her up and put her on the hay to keep her little feet from getting too cold in the deep snow. <br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hzwmHHzLI/AAAAAAAACn8/GB1FqUAm8kw/s1600-h/february+2010+034.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442727428378578098" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hzwmHHzLI/AAAAAAAACn8/GB1FqUAm8kw/s400/february+2010+034.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-69120420575422551232010-02-26T20:09:00.003-05:002010-02-26T20:20:24.100-05:00Max at HomeSo we have had Max for a couple months now and I thought it would be fun to share his progress as a house rabbit. Firstly, its unfortunate that he has reached sexual peak already. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">EW</span>! So<br />today Max, Mason, Garrick and I made our way<br />out into the snow to get Max to his very first vet<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hxFhzm_tI/AAAAAAAACn0/1FYEU65jmbw/s1600-h/february+2010+025.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442724489465364178" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hxFhzm_tI/AAAAAAAACn0/1FYEU65jmbw/s320/february+2010+025.jpg" /></a> appointment <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">on time ~ so I could schedule him for his bunny neuter.</span><br />The doctor was excited about our choice of a rabbit as a pet and stated that rabbits made wonderful pets. I was slightly surprised to hear this and by the way, the doctor was a really nice guy.<br />As you can see from the pictures Max is most at home when he's playing with the other animals. I do not think you <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">could've</span> convinced me that a rabbit would be most happy when allowed to spend time with such an assortment of cats and dogs.<br />The first photo is Bella and Max sharing a moment. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hxFRTEGeI/AAAAAAAACns/NVV6BKJMRZg/s1600-h/february+2010+029.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442724485033892322" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hxFRTEGeI/AAAAAAAACns/NVV6BKJMRZg/s320/february+2010+029.jpg" /></a><br />Here in this photo you can see Max sitting on the dog bed with Remy and Bella. What I wont tell you is that shortly after the photo was taken I realized that Max wasn't so much "hanging out" with them as he was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">peeing</span> on them! BAD MAX!<br />What can I say, he wanted them to move and guess what... they did.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hxE1wY4HI/AAAAAAAACnk/gkKnEEWS3pA/s1600-h/february+2010+024.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442724477640695922" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hxE1wY4HI/AAAAAAAACnk/gkKnEEWS3pA/s320/february+2010+024.jpg" /></a> Here you have Max sharing the chair with Stanley. Stanley absolutely loves playing with Max, but he prefers playing on his own terms. Max will jump up to be with Stanley and then Stanley usually runs off as a result.... until Max is back on the floor where he's fair game. They play tag <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">alot</span>! And if I can ever get a video of it I will, its adorable.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hxEkui1XI/AAAAAAAACnc/TKdZPp4wPwo/s1600-h/february+2010+015.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442724473069557106" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hxEkui1XI/AAAAAAAACnc/TKdZPp4wPwo/s320/february+2010+015.jpg" /></a><br />Max is sitting with Millie here. I have to tell you he is particularly fond of Millie and I think Millie would like to do nothing more than eat his head off--yet Max does not let them deter him. The more time Max spends sitting with her, the more fond of him I think she is becoming. Its one big happy family here! :oD LOL<br /><br /><br /><div></div>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-43470519112458515632010-02-26T19:32:00.006-05:002010-02-26T20:09:12.364-05:00Say Hello to Dinah<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4houBuBEWI/AAAAAAAACnU/hA7qx-8Ne-Q/s1600-h/february+2010+056.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442715289621959010" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4houBuBEWI/AAAAAAAACnU/hA7qx-8Ne-Q/s320/february+2010+056.jpg" /></a> Winter has finally settled in here in Connecticut. Its been blustery cold ~ but the snow has been falling without apology all week. On and off of course, mixed with rain ~ and flooding. It's really kind of ridiculous.<br />Your never really sure what the roads are going to bring...will it be ice, slush, snow, or that wet mixture of salt and whatever else the city trucks spray down. Regardless, its winter in New England at its finest.<br />On Saturday as I showered to get ready to go out to a friends house later that evening the kids come in the bathroom and announce "there's a cat outside".<br />If your like me your initial response is Big Whoop. There are lots of cats outside what's so exciting about this one? I think it was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Abi</span> who came in first to let me know of the mystery<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hotjyRuKI/AAAAAAAACnM/DG19yxRqKpw/s1600-h/february+2010+053.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442715281586763938" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hotjyRuKI/AAAAAAAACnM/DG19yxRqKpw/s320/february+2010+053.jpg" /></a> kitty. She told the story about how there was a cat out there and it has a "demented" ear and its eating the food they put out. Well, i finished up in the shower and threw on my clothes. After getting to the side door I look out and see this tiny little gray cat with concave sides and a wad hanging off her ear.<br />OH THAT'S A KITTEN! Bring her inside i exclaim. Lucky for this cat I did indeed believe it was a kitten or I may not have been so quick to bring her in. We sat her on the table with her bowl of food and she commences to eating as if she hasn't seen food in years. And from the looks of her... its certainly been a while.<br /><br />I call Kate and ask her what to do, because of her unknown whereabouts she advises me to<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hotibbkOI/AAAAAAAACnE/8MF607H2d20/s1600-h/february+2010+054.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442715281222504674" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hotibbkOI/AAAAAAAACnE/8MF607H2d20/s320/february+2010+054.jpg" /></a> isolate her from the other cats and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">don't</span> let the kids touch her! She might have rabies. Kate will stop in tomorrow after leaving Rhode Island and take a look.<br />Upon closer examination I see that her ear has more than a wad hanging off of it, its filled with a red mass. It looks almost as if someone has filled her ear canal with a cherry tomato. Because of the mass poor kitty's head is tilted, she's walking crooked, and keeps falling over. :o( Poor thing. She's as sweet as can be though... even John can't help but comment on her mild nature and his only question is "how much is this going to cost us"? He never once made any mention of getting rid of her and I think the deal was sealed.<br />Kate came by on Sunday where she confirmed my suspicions, the mass in her ear was going to need surgery (and we both assume she will need to be spayed) oh and by the way this cute tiny kitten with a half of a tail... is not so much a kitten as a full grown adult cat. :-O Now I've had some small cats but never anything so small that it would convince me at a glance it was indeed a kitten.<br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Anywho</span>--Kitty spent the remainder of the weekend living in a crate in the spare room where she would eat, drink, poop and sleep. I would visit her daily and allow her time out of the crate to walk around, sit on my lap and be loved like she deserved. It is my theory that after her ear reached new levels of grossness her previous owners <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">discarded</span> her like dirty underwear. I brought her into the vet on Wednesday morning. Bright and early me and Kitty made the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">trek</span> to the vets office in hops of hearing the good news that it was operable and most likely not a big deal. Dr. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Chace</span> was able to deliver this news with very little examination ~ which for me was promising because I knew he wasn't too concerned with what was growing in her ear. Boy was I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">relieved</span>. I left her there and new that when I picked her up the next day I'd be $700 poorer and she would be ours forever.<br /><br />I wouldn't let anyone name her until I found out what was going on with her ear. We are serious animal lovers and while she had spent minimal time with us, it would be just long enough to break a few hearts in my house. Not allowing them to name her would allow me to keep them somewhat disconnected if the outcome was bad.<br />After receiving the news that the mass was removed and she was successfully spayed I let my mind work and settled on Dinah. Anyone who knows me well knows that Alice in Wonderland has always been one of my all time favorite movies, and not for the Disney aspect of it. With the previews of the new Alice in Wonderland bombarding the television constantly the movie is fresh in my mind. So I thought Dinah was cute and fitting (and I probably should mention that Dinah is the name of Alice's cat in the movie, just in case you didn't already know that).<br />She's a dainty bit of a cat, barely 5 pounds. And from head to tail she looks more like a 5 month old then a one year old kitty. She has beautiful green eyes and pink pads on her feet, but a black triangle nose. Her tail is shorter than normal although there is some discrepancy as to if she <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">might've</span> been born like that or had trauma along the way. I tend to believe owners who wouldn't pay for an ear surgery or spay would most likely not bother to fix a tail had it been broken at some point, but who knows. Maybe they spent all their money on that and after injury two happened they decided to get rid of her rather than put another dime into her.<br /><br />Anyway, this bit of a cat has a spirit as big as can be, and while she does not like the dog she is certainly not afraid of them. She hisses at them but holds her ground, not even bothering to puff up. Remy puts his tail between his legs and runs for the hills when hissed at. I'm glad to have her and as soon as she settles in I think that Stanley <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">and</span> the dogs will also be glad she has arrived.<br />I'll keep you posted on how she manages to get along here in Farm Webster.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hoeFheifI/AAAAAAAACm8/5E4-9wj9vnc/s1600-h/february+2010+054.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hodkBDGDI/AAAAAAAACm0/LUBBhbDknYc/s1600-h/february+2010+053.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S4hodjvbQHI/AAAAAAAACms/0tuOQJYS9o4/s1600-h/february+2010+056.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-88725134640067570232010-02-03T21:52:00.002-05:002010-02-03T21:56:53.289-05:00Fairy Dreams<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S2o3YNjOM3I/AAAAAAAACmk/TxEk29OHbJM/s1600-h/fairy+moon.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434216789469705074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 306px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 346px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S2o3YNjOM3I/AAAAAAAACmk/TxEk29OHbJM/s400/fairy+moon.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">Listen to the whispers of your heart. </div><br /><div align="center">Cherish your most precious dream. </div><br /><div align="center">Feel the magic in the air. </div><br /><div align="center">Dance on a bright moonbeam.</div><br /><div align="center"></div>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-4479759850037568702010-01-28T12:14:00.003-05:002010-01-28T12:24:27.595-05:00Snow Day<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S2HGxSJ365I/AAAAAAAACmc/g51Xyidoctg/s1600-h/IMG_6413.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431841175574670226" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S2HGxSJ365I/AAAAAAAACmc/g51Xyidoctg/s400/IMG_6413.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>It is another snow swept day here in New England. You can tell everyone is coming down with a case of spring fever and its only January. Today we were to be (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">unexpectedly</span>) blessed with a couple of inches, which is turning into slightly more than that. I'm not a fan of snow, it gives me this pit in my gut. </div><br /><div>My chickens seem to be fairing the weather quite well however, spending time under the trampoline which allows them some snow-free grass to pick at. The dogs aren't the slightest bit interested in the snow today...spending their day lazing around the house moving from one dog bed to another. Snuggling in close by the fire to stay warm. Stanley watches intently at the windows as birds jump around in the tree tops looking for any morsel of food available. </div><div> </div><div>Me and Mason, we took a snow day. Mason woke up with a hacking cough and I originally had an appointment this morning ~ which was canceled as the snow began to pile up in the streets. As a result I decided to call it a day and not bother with work. Have I mentioned how much I love my boss and the fact that I can just make spur of the moment decisions such as that??? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Abi</span> and Garrick will be home soon also a direct effect of the weather.</div><div> </div><div>To sweeten the smell in the house me and Mason whipped up a loaf of cinnamon <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">streusel</span> (from a box of course). This will be nice when Abi and Garrick hop off their <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">buses</span> and come running up the snow covered driveway. I'll top the warm <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">streusel</span> with vanilla ice cream and everyone will smile. </div><div> </div><div>Ah life is good...even when its snowing!</div>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-3253166461850678312010-01-15T15:41:00.003-05:002010-01-15T15:50:22.097-05:00Have you Met MAX???<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S1DTMssw_gI/AAAAAAAACmU/LXcDzETegaI/s1600-h/jan+2010+024.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427069766092258818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S1DTMssw_gI/AAAAAAAACmU/LXcDzETegaI/s320/jan+2010+024.jpg" border="0" /></a> So approximately a month ago Abi was able to break me down and convince me that she had to have a bunny. This is Max a 5 month old (what i presume to be) Jersey Wooley. Rescued from a little lady in Meriden who had upwards of 45 bunnies in need of homes. She had stated that little Max here was a Lionhead, but I'm pretty sure he is not.<br />He is a quiet little bunny... as most bunnies are but he was sweet enough to allow Abi to carry him around from cage to cage while she made her choice of bunnies that day.<br />He was so "tame" that she couldn't possibly say NO to him and I do not think she has regretted her choice once.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S1DTMM6fWbI/AAAAAAAACmM/CA0CIOUAbVY/s1600-h/jan+2010+023.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427069757559888306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S1DTMM6fWbI/AAAAAAAACmM/CA0CIOUAbVY/s320/jan+2010+023.jpg" border="0" /></a> He looks absolutely huge in this photo but he's really not a big bunny although he has HUGE FEET! I'll have to take a picture so you can see.<br /><br />He's already litter box trained and while she does let him have free run of her bedroom for a while every night he seems content to lay low in his cage....EXCEPT when Stanley is about.<br /><br />Chasing Stanley is his most favorite hobby and I think Stanley particularly enjoys it also. They seem to have fun playing this game for a few minutes every night before he leaps back into his cage.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S1DTLsUoeWI/AAAAAAAACmE/qOuAIq_JxOU/s1600-h/jan+2010+022.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427069748811168098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S1DTLsUoeWI/AAAAAAAACmE/qOuAIq_JxOU/s320/jan+2010+022.jpg" border="0" /></a> His one downfall...he's incredibly thirsty during the night. I swear he drinks non-stop from midnight till about 4am. Its a little frustrating because its not like he's just drinking its like him and his water bottle are having a game of tug-a-war and the bottles winning.<br /><br />But aside from that he's cute and I have to admit I go and see him almost everyday. I like him a lot better than the bunny I had when I was about 18. (bad timing on my part!). In the summer we plan on giving him some time outside, but not making him an Outside bunny. He's too cute to do that to.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S1DTLeRdyaI/AAAAAAAACl8/FjmID_wDXIc/s1600-h/jan+2010+020.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427069745039788450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S1DTLeRdyaI/AAAAAAAACl8/FjmID_wDXIc/s320/jan+2010+020.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Here they are sharing a little moment. <3>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-28384035596369349172010-01-14T20:30:00.002-05:002010-01-14T20:32:38.183-05:00Favorite Blog Ever<a href="http://www.hencam.com/henblog/">http://www.hencam.com/henblog/</a> Here is the link to the HenCam Blog, what I love about this blog is that she has a camera in her hen house, outside in the run and on her goats also. Every now and then when I feel like seeing what someone else's chickens might be up to (or how they may be acting on a particularly cold day) I click on this sight and see what is going on at Little Pond Farm!Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-23107090979597292742010-01-14T20:18:00.002-05:002010-01-14T20:22:35.314-05:00The first snow...<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0_C9jNXCbI/AAAAAAAAClU/vDjYebK3cmQ/s1600-h/nyc+09+012.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426770438683822514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0_C9jNXCbI/AAAAAAAAClU/vDjYebK3cmQ/s400/nyc+09+012.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>do you see how Big and Beautiful Maddy is in this picture compared to when I brought her home!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0_C9R8VpLI/AAAAAAAAClM/Z-eeVkBDVAw/s1600-h/nyc+09+018.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426770434049025202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0_C9R8VpLI/AAAAAAAAClM/Z-eeVkBDVAw/s400/nyc+09+018.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0_C89EoiWI/AAAAAAAAClE/EOOrB9Y1dso/s1600-h/nyc+09+014.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426770428446673250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0_C89EoiWI/AAAAAAAAClE/EOOrB9Y1dso/s400/nyc+09+014.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0_C8m64yEI/AAAAAAAACk8/ow-g2xzmgwk/s1600-h/nyc+09+016.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426770422500214850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0_C8m64yEI/AAAAAAAACk8/ow-g2xzmgwk/s400/nyc+09+016.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0_C8NKDZCI/AAAAAAAACk0/smEZQFece9Q/s1600-h/nyc+09+011.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426770415584502818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0_C8NKDZCI/AAAAAAAACk0/smEZQFece9Q/s400/nyc+09+011.jpg" border="0" /></a> And Look how fat and "Henny Penny"esque Pepper is looking after moulting. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-45605720359162456382010-01-14T20:06:00.004-05:002010-01-14T20:18:50.724-05:00Snowy Days and chickens<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0_B1BlCJmI/AAAAAAAACks/a7EI-CsIEfo/s1600-h/dec+09+123.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426769192705730146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0_B1BlCJmI/AAAAAAAACks/a7EI-CsIEfo/s320/dec+09+123.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>When the weather gets cold and the bugs are not plenty the chickens come knock knock knocking on the back door. </div><div>Its not uncommon to find Pepper peeking in the back door window in an attempt to get someone's attention and hopefully a treat.</div><div>she knows the key to my heart and it works everytime!!!</div><div>Here she is meer inches from entering the house! She's such a house chicken its not even funny.</div>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-14385344897979294432010-01-14T19:48:00.004-05:002010-01-14T20:04:18.394-05:00A Series of Unfortunate Events ....So in my last blog I think I was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">going</span> to explain a series of unfortunate events but I feel with every line i typed I doomed another innocent animal to the slaughter house, eventually causing me to give up on blogging altogether. But I am confident that enough time has passed that my animals lives are safe and I've paid down whatever price I had to pay to karma.<br /><br />We have made a few additions to the "farm". I will introduce them here and give you a brief interlude to how they came about. First, meet Maddy and Daphne two New Hampshire Reds from a farm in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Litchfield</span>. They look pretty bad here, and these pictures were taken a mere week after their rescue. They were without much of their feathers and it was not a pattern that meant they were moulting...these hens were unhealthy, stressed out, and ridden by a rooster one too many times. Kept in a barn with approximately 50 other chickens...and no I'm pretty sure they were not well KEPT. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0-8cm3YcnI/AAAAAAAACkk/8gVeNU1gHLU/s1600-h/IMG_6428.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426763275659932274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0-8cm3YcnI/AAAAAAAACkk/8gVeNU1gHLU/s320/IMG_6428.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />You can see by the photographs Pepper is in full moult as well! While she looks pretty raggedy herself I know that she was being take care of and fed well to help her grow her feathers back in a timely manner....which they did and I have never seen Pepper look better.<br /><br />Maddy is the lighter colored one and much more hand friendly. Daphne is slightly more red and I dread the day that she gets sick and needs my attention. She's mad as a hornet with a big chip on her shoulder about something... and is not afraid to give you hand a peck if she feels you are out of line with her. Just the other day I reached in to touch her neck feathers which looked slightly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">skewed</span> and maybe bloody. She pecked my hand to let me know to back off and I didn't look back. (her neck was fine by the way).<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0-8cSy3HoI/AAAAAAAACkc/_0r59UsYwkk/s1600-h/IMG_6427.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426763270272261762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0-8cSy3HoI/AAAAAAAACkc/_0r59UsYwkk/s320/IMG_6427.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I let Daphne have her space. Maddy recently spent the better part of a month living in the house <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">recuperating</span> from a nasty pecked wound on her back...courtesy of my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">pecky</span> hen Pepper. She had a hole approximately 2 inches around pecked into her back. I happened to catch site of it one day while sneaking a peek in the hen house. I thought she was going to bleed to death by the size of the wound.<br />I immediately moved her into the house and just about 1 week ago was able to move her back out. Which of course left her wide open for a couple days of torment from my flock leader Pepper. But all is calm again and everyone is getting along just fine.<br />With a couple days of near 40 degree weather <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">forecasted</span> they will be able to spend a few days outside and breath some fresh air, peck some slightly frozen ground...and get back to being chickens. Even if just for a little while.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/S0-8cOmHfFI/AAAAAAAACkU/xVonG575Aig/s1600-h/jan+2010+022.jpg"></a>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-41559943630616353522009-10-06T18:57:00.003-04:002009-10-06T19:14:28.715-04:00Like a chicken...cont. Part 2So after suffering the loss of Salt I said I wasn't going to do it again~ but when I saw how bored Pepper was I knew <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">I couldn't</span> keep a flock animal in solitude. Who would she cluck her little daily stories too <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">after all</span>? She needs a coop buddy come winter ... someone to help keep the heat up in the hen house. So after posting my need on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">craigslist</span>.com with no response I did the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">unimaginable</span> and answered an ad from a woman who was selling pullets. This is a good thing. Isn't it?<br />I met the woman with a nice white chicken at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Harwinton</span> fair we exchanged hellos and soon we were on our way home with the little white chicken in hand. The kids anxiously <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">squawking</span> and quarreling about what to name her, and pondering on her immediate future.<br />We get this little soft fuzzy footed Cochin (with some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Wyandote</span>) home and let her go into the chicken run. Pepper running anxiously up and down the sides wondering where this creature came from. After some exposure we let Pepper in who ran immediately to the little white hen BEAT HER!~<br />This hens response was unlike any I had expected....did she run away?...no, did she stand up and fight like a woman? ... uh,no. Instead she laid down and buried her head as deep into a corner as she could. WOW!!!! Pepper was thrilled at how powerful she was around this hen. She continued to batter this hen~until I made the decision to lock her OUT of the run. This is not nice. I know its not nice...but what choice do I have?<br />After dark I came out to shut the coop door and there in the dark I can see a little white mass of feathers battened down near the wall of the garage. I pick her up and toss her into the coop.<br />I'm thinking GOOD GRIEF THIS HEN DOESN'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO GET INTO THE COOP AND ROOST. And no, she did not know how to roost, she spent the night on the floor of the coop while Pepper rested respectively above.<br />The next day the coop is opened and the door to the run is open (a mistake on my part). I hop into the shower and am very excited to see that the two are walking near each other. Until I go outside and see that Pepper is AGAIN attacking the hen, who is again...lying down and hiding her head under a rock in the stone wall. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS BIRD???? Why wont she run away???<br />I go back into the house and hear Garrick screaming...screaming that kind of scream that makes your ears perk up and say "is he joking or being killed". I go out to see what the fuss is about and he informs me that my dogs were attacking the hen. The patio was covered in white feathers! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">OMG</span>!!!!<br />My dogs <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">don't</span> attack chickens, they love them (refer to previous post...the proof is in the pictures). What is wrong with this hen????? They are definitely all sensing her weakness and taking advantage. I make the decision to keepher separate and leave Pepper to again stay in the yard. I can tell after getting home from work that the poor little hen spent the entire day in the coop in darkness. I had to leave again so I lock the hen in the coop and I lock Pepper in the run...so that when darkness fell and she was still out she was not open to a world of creatures ready, willing, and able to gobble her up like Thanksgiving dinner.<br />When we returned later that night Pepper had laid an egg out of her nest, she had managed to find cover in a freezing cold cement tube that was just the right size for her little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">henny</span> body. I felt just awful. I get the white hen out of the coop, put her in isolation and once again allow Pepper to be queen of her castle. Who knew Poultry Farming could be so stressful. Especially when we are only dealing with TWO LITTLE HENS?<br />Stay tuned for Part 3~ as I return little white hen and trade her for a bigger more sturdy model.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-83999728182100238912009-10-05T20:56:00.002-04:002009-10-05T21:11:13.769-04:00Like a chicken with its head cut offAfter running around in circles the last few months I realize it is time that I make an attempt at some updates. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Alot</span> has changed in our farm family since my last blog post, so ever so quickly (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">i'll</span> spare you the details) I will give you the run down on what's old, what's new and what's just impossible to think about.<br />The Squirrel named Buddy disappeared one day~ in fact the day after he opened his eyes. But I'm not a fool and I know exactly where he ended up. I must continue to love my dogs as I'm sure it was pure instinct that drove them to devour every ounce of him not so much as leaving a scant bit of hair.<br />In fairness, I knew the crate he was switched too was too big, but being the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">admitted</span> worry wart I opted to keep my mouth closed and say nothing to the child that switched out the crate, when it really matter most. Buddy paid the ultimate price~ and that is a bit of guilt I will continue to live with daily.<br />Where animals are concerned I carry guilt in failures with me constantly. <br /><br />About two weeks ago we suffered a blow out with one of the hens, Salt actually. Our beloved little Barred Plymouth Rock. It started out "small" and ended up more disgusting then anything I had ever seen. I believe we had caught it too late~not for lack of trying. I had managed to clean the girl up, push her butt back in, and separate her to prevent her bottom from being picked even more. But when I went back out the next day, preparation H in hand, what I saw was absolutely NOT fixable and spotted with the beginnings of maggots, which let me know we were not looking at something that happened yesterday. Do I sound slightly cold about the event. I probably do. Do I carry the tons of guilt with me because I didn't catch it sooner... I do. Being an animal lover every single time something goes wrong I sit and think of 1000 ways to blame myself for what <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">should've</span>/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">could've</span>/would've been done differently. I pushed her ass back in for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">christ</span> sake, this is not <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">something</span> I probably in a hundred years thought I would ever do.<br />My husband unfortunately had the dirty assignment of putting poor Salty out of her misery. Although that is a story I have not told children, nor do I plan on it. He said it was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">eeewy</span> and gooey and not at all pleasant. But he manned up and did what he had to. So good for him, it was quick...well except for that part when she jumped up and ran around like a chicken w/ her head cut off! He tossed a rag over her headless body because he couldn't bare to watch. He later buried her in the garden~to bask in the New England autumn sunshine.<br />I have more news to share, but it is late and I am tired, exhausted really from recapping the misery of the past two months. I can promise you I am not through. It is my hope that come weeks end this will all have a happy ending....but for today, that is not the case. And I can't bear to go on.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-90457435102106044452009-08-25T17:22:00.003-04:002009-08-25T17:37:38.393-04:00Squirrel Rehab Part 2<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SpRWfVt6N3I/AAAAAAAACkM/P8CXAXlrCwc/s1600-h/Picture+106.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374015351765481330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SpRWfVt6N3I/AAAAAAAACkM/P8CXAXlrCwc/s200/Picture+106.jpg" border="0" /></a>I am so excited to announce that little "Buddy" is still alive and doing quite well. Here is an early picture of him, actually taken about 3 or 4 days after he arrived. You will notice his fur is very sparse and his head is incredibly large. Well, this little guy, while his eyes are still stamped shut has grown some lovely fur down his back and its coming in along his tail. His little plump belly is also growing its fine white hair right on schedule.<br />I switched him from Scalded Milk Formula after his growth and dehydration both seemed stunted. He is currently eating Esbilac, which is a puppy formula~mixed with a dash of heavy cream for fat. I researched and researched, and then researched some more and everyone (as in real rehabbers) points to this particular formula. If it works for them its got to work for me.<br />Now in the past the squirrels we have rehabbed have been fed a diet of whole milk, egg, and peanut butter....Not my recipe, but that of the person rehabilitating them prior to bringing them to me. These squirrels did turn out fine (for all intents and purposes) so I am not one to say whether she was wrong or right. But when I'm trying to save a little life, I truly aim to do what is right (or at least presumably right).<br />He's been here two weeks and should have his little eyes open by next week. GOOD THING TOO. Everyone is heading back to school and work this Thursday and there will be no one home to check on him every minute of the day!<br />I will post more recent pics in Part 3 later on. But for now, enjoy this little guy. I'm so excited he's made it this far!Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-49677179630543533562009-08-25T17:20:00.003-04:002009-08-25T17:39:50.168-04:00Entomophthora muscae<a href="http://www.hort.wisc.edu/mastergardener/features/insects/entomophthora/entomophora.htm">http://www.hort.wisc.edu/mastergardener/features/insects/entomophthora/entomophora.htm</a><br />Funny what a little <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">perseverance</span> can help you find. I simply typed in "dead flies on plant" and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">walllla</span>! I found a fungus that could very well be the root of our dead fly population. Now my one remaining question....Should I expect more dead flies next year?Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-48591429173009977692009-08-25T16:45:00.005-04:002009-08-25T16:58:34.237-04:00The Weird Fly Issues Pics Are Here!!!So I finally have my computer back, phew! Anyway, I wanted to post the pics of the weird dead flies on EVERYTHING...in the backyard. That's what is so strange too, nothing in the front yard has dead bugs on it. If anyone out there has an explanation to this problem (<a href="http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shadowlands/6583/crop014.html">besides crop circles and aliens, neither of which I am bothered by</a>) please, please, please let me know! I have to remind you also, these pictures do not do justice exactly the enormity of this problem! But hopefully double clicking or enlarging the pics will help you get a jist of it.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SpRN0kZgJ1I/AAAAAAAACkE/R5Xb6Ej2NdY/s1600-h/Picture+057.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374005820879021906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SpRN0kZgJ1I/AAAAAAAACkE/R5Xb6Ej2NdY/s200/Picture+057.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SpRN0II1mdI/AAAAAAAACj8/pvD6R-dvEhU/s1600-h/Picture+058.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374005813292931538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SpRN0II1mdI/AAAAAAAACj8/pvD6R-dvEhU/s200/Picture+058.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SpRNz7rKKyI/AAAAAAAACj0/cNsZ1BPVht0/s1600-h/Picture+056.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374005809947224866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SpRNz7rKKyI/AAAAAAAACj0/cNsZ1BPVht0/s200/Picture+056.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-21185366828404444242009-08-13T19:54:00.005-04:002009-08-13T20:17:31.982-04:00Squirrel Rehab..it's something naturalOver the years we have rehabilitated and released a number of squirrels successfully back into the wild. We have learned how to feed them, what to feed them, and how to make them go potty without violating them or us! Yesterday my husband came home and told me he brought me a present. I have to admit I was eager to hang up the phone and see what it was he had for me. Now <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">don't</span> get me wrong I wasn't expecting to look outside and find the newest edition Mercedes Benz or anything extravagant... but he does know how much I like junk so I was thinking he had found me something exciting for the deck or front steps perhaps. Honestly, I really couldn't imagine, as John is not one to often "surprise" me with anything. <br />Before I could hang up I saw the kids scurrying around a glove sitting on the ledge near the stairs to the basement so I take a gander over to see what the fuss is about...there wrapped in the dirty work glove is the smallest pink baby squirrel I have ever seen. My jaw <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">must've</span> dropped. <br />I am finally off the phone and I turn to my dear dear husband and say "its going to die!". We have never <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">rehabbed</span> a squirrel this small or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">furless</span>. Even Frankie Boulevard, as small as he was came to me with a considerable amount of fur already covering his tiny body and days later his bulging eyes were open.<br />This little squirrel is skinny, he's clearly dehydrated, and he is SMALL, with nary a fur covering his tiny pink belly or legs! <br />After some quick research we are able to estimate his age about 3 weeks...which does make me feel slightly better. Originally I was thinking he could not have been more than 1 week old. We get out our rehab supplies, warm up the heating pad and get our little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">fella's</span> body temp up. <br />He'd been out of his nest all day long and tucked safely into john's truck after John's boss swung a tree branch down from one of the tree's they were cutting and flung that poor little boy out of his nest. John could hear his screams from the ground and he was quick to retrieve him...he said to me "i couldn't just leave him here".<br />I let John know that it would have been better to leave him where he lay and let his momma squirrel come back and get him, but truth be told she may not have returned and he may not have been alive if she had. They were working that land all day long and any number of things could have happened to little "Buddy". But I have to admit, as small as he is I'm not sure he will fare any better here. <br />With our formula concoction of Scalded Milk <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">and Vitamin</span> E, as well as the initial servings of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">pedialyte</span>...we will do what we can to save this little guy but for now my outlook does remain bleak.<br />If he makes it 72 hours I will then post the photo's I have taken, but today I am not up for jinxing him and I feel that by posting photo's I am putting his little life at risk~making him real will make him go away. I'm very superstitious and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">don't</span> want to compromise him right now.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-28130968580423572152009-08-11T18:14:00.002-04:002009-08-11T18:39:41.867-04:00Life Before the Internet...or the Computer for that MatterHow did we ever survive? I can remember back when computer's were so foreign and some what scarey. Sitting in front of one in 7th grade computer class using the DOS screen. I am not even sure what that is...or if I even said it right. The black very basic screen where we entered commands and kept our fingers crossed that the end result would be the one the teacher was asking for. It wasn't as user friendly as clicking around our precious Windows... thank you Mr. Bill Gates! I also remember the first time I saw a screen saver....the iconic <span style="color:#ff0000;">Windows</span> window flashing across the black screen in primary colors. I was 18 and in AWE! No joke. I didn't say a word but I remember being giddy at the mere thought of that computer with the magical screen eventually becoming my own!!!!<br />Then later came the addiction to the internet, first my discovery of '<em>searching</em>' and realizing that you could find out utterly ANYTHING your heart ever desired just by entering a simple word or phrase. It was amazing, it was awesome, it was.... unbelievable. Clicking my way around finding things that, I had just days before, didn't even knew existed. Like AIM, if I make a screen name and go into chat rooms strangers will talk to me! Who would've guess? Now I have outgrown this and realize the dangers.....but back then....it was captivating and very alluring.<br />I have not been without a computer since the early 90's.... And I can say I have not been without the internet since the mid ninety's. Remember dial-up??? Back then it was a miracle, now it seems ridiculous and how impatient we are when we have to wait more than a split second to get something to load--not to mention the idea of having a cord holding us to our connection. Instant gratification is what we are all looking for.<br />Almost two years ago I received a shiny knew computer...with Windows Vista. Little did I know that Vista was like the dark unloved cousin to XP for a reason. I had no problems with Vista until recently ~ around January, when my computer crashed without warning. That hateful blue screen staring back at me, laughing at all that contents of my computer that had been lost. OHHH say it isn't so. Songs, Pictures, Artwork, Essay's...the list is endless. All LOST.<br />But alas it was true, it was all gone, gone, gone. And my computer has not been the same since. In the last 8 months we have wiped out and reloaded my computer more times than i dare remember...losing a few pictures and memories with each passing. Today, I will be handing over my best friend to our neighbor Marwin in an attempt to fix this problem once and for all.<br />Will I be able to survive the few days he has warned we will be without????<br />Thank freakin god I have a computer at work and Mason has the laptop for those fiendish moments where I can't control it and must know some bit of useless information ~sitting at that keyboard clicking in whatever it is I NEED to know so urgently.<br />But for now, I would like to tell you this is why my blogs have lacked recently...and I am hoping that when my computer is returned to me it will be as shiny, new, and speedy as it had once been in its more formidable years!!!! Wish me luck through this computerless venture in an utterly computer driven world.<br /><blockquote></blockquote><blockquote><p>They tried to make me go to rehab...I said NO, NO, NO!<br />Yes I've been black but when I come back you'll know know know<br />I ain't got the time and if my daddy thinks I'm fineHe's tried to make me go to rehab but I won't go go<br />go!!!!<br /></p></blockquote>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-29462630365446332032009-08-05T20:35:00.002-04:002009-08-05T20:57:53.439-04:00There is this Weird Bug Problem!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/Snolt0yRYlI/AAAAAAAACjo/xcac2sDQMrY/s1600-h/08+05+2009+043.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/Snolt0yRYlI/AAAAAAAACjo/xcac2sDQMrY/s200/08+05+2009+043.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366643375159206482" /></a>I've been absent from this blog for a little while now,off on my <a href="http://lazyandgreen.blogspot.com/">GREEN quest</a>. But I decided I was long overdue to just write down a few things of summer~so that's what I am here for.<br /><div>First of all, I may have mentioned the abundance of rain once or twice maybe? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">LOL</span>. Of course i have mentioned it, how could i not? But I was watching something on TV the other day on Planet Green and this group was in the rain forest doing some research in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Guyana</span>~and after <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">trekking</span> like 800 ft up some ridiculous cliff they reached a never before researched part of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">rainforest</span>. The scientist noted that although they were in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">rainforest</span> the plant life was rather <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">barren</span> due to the excessive rain in this particular spot. He said that the abundance of rain actually causes the needed minerals and what not to leech away from the plants ever deeper into the ground.<div>It was particularly an AH HA moment for me. Because with the rain as </div><div>heavy and relentless as it has been this year I can't get over how poor my</div><div>plants are doing. I have insect infestation on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">hostas</span> which are the hardiest</div><div>of the hardy plants. I mean, I didn't even know that these could get bugs...really. And do I even dare mention the very strange fly problem I am having in the back yard??? </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/Snolti_mg7I/AAAAAAAACjg/1vdzlLpd38w/s1600-h/08+05+2009+044.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/Snolti_mg7I/AAAAAAAACjg/1vdzlLpd38w/s200/08+05+2009+044.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366643370383279026" /></a>I had asked a friend who also keeps chickens in her yard... and typically confines them to the run during the day if she has flies from her chickens she said "NO". Damn it, there goes that theory, can't blame the chickens. Flies are everywhere...and what's weird is the way they are dying. They are <b>covering</b> all of my plants. I'm not talking one or two dead flies on my plants. They are dying in droves (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">I'll</span> have to get a picture to show...or you might not believe me). They look to be alive, they are on the underside of the leaves of whatever plant they happen to be on and they are STUCK hard to the plant. I almost want to tell you they are sort of melted there. Its weird, its like they are <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">ingesting</span> something toxic from the plants! Which of course makes me wonder what on earth is in all this rain.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SnolthacFxI/AAAAAAAACjY/uMOktlJG2Qw/s1600-h/08+05+2009+038.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SnolthacFxI/AAAAAAAACjY/uMOktlJG2Qw/s200/08+05+2009+038.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366643369958971154" /></a>Remember the days of "acid rain"...is this a term we should re-introduce to the populations. These flies and their untimely deaths are making me wonder.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SnoltcU6aWI/AAAAAAAACjQ/ro5ZRplYtKA/s1600-h/08+05+2009+028.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SnoltcU6aWI/AAAAAAAACjQ/ro5ZRplYtKA/s200/08+05+2009+028.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366643368593615202" /></a>Everything is suffering. I usually have tons of sunflowers every year, this year I have ONE. Yes, exactly one. The rest have been eaten down by something of the insect world and the stems have barely reached 3 feet tall. </div><div>I took a few shots of what little harvest we have had from our garden. It would seem that the tomatoes are fairing pretty well. Oddly as these were all planted in containers this year giving the rain an escape through the bottom of the pot. I wonder if this is what is saving them. I got a few peas, the curliest peas I have ever seen. In fact they were so odd looking no one dared eat them. I let them sit on the counter for a couple days till the heat got the best of them and they ultimately began to wilt~at which time they became chicken snacks. Oh well, maybe we will have better luck next year with that crop. </div><div><br /></div><div>I guess in the meantime we can at least shop the farmer's market and eat what they have grown and there are always the eggs~Salt and Pepper continue to lay two lovely eggs almost 6 days a week. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SnoltJW8JhI/AAAAAAAACjI/ZMlgUApu1Gg/s1600-h/08+05+2009+029.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SnoltJW8JhI/AAAAAAAACjI/ZMlgUApu1Gg/s200/08+05+2009+029.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366643363501843986" /></a>What a strange strange summer in Connecticut it has been.</div></div>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-55006481978947966912009-07-25T10:03:00.003-04:002009-07-25T10:04:16.309-04:00Hunting: Controlling Population or Just Plain StupidI am an animal lover~have been for as long as I can remember. I feel like all animals are beautiful (except frogs which absolutely gross me out...but i would still never kill one). Anyway, me and my husband have long debated the point of hunting. To me its useless... it epitomizes everything that I cannot stand about "manly" men. He says its a sport... I tell him no SPORT entails one side of the team with such an unfair advantage as to be carrying around guns or bows--and lets not forget the other team such an unwilling participant. Can you see the game of soccer being played in close quarters where one team gets to shoot the other when they get within range and the other team just running for their life?<br />I mean, honestly how can you call that a sport--deer are quite majestic and I am not really even sure why someone would want to destroy such a beautiful animal.<br />Have you ever seen the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9fM1QScxbU&NR=1">video of the hunter </a>being trampled by the Buck. Like this deer is full out kicking this man's ass. I love that video! I Love that finally the deer got the advantage and beat the living shit out of this man--damn near death if i recall (how do you like it). It should always be that way. More men should get trampled by the sharp hooves of a bucks foot while out hunting.<br />Oh and don't even get me started on how ugly it is to then take the head of that animal and plop that bad boy up on your wall and call it a TROPHY? what the fuck is that shit? I mean it absolutely enrages me! John's parents have a room in the house that has a bunch of deer heads on it and a thousand fish. It looks retarded~its gross actually. Needless to say when we visit I don't go in there much and I know the kids get creeped out when they have to sleep in there (thank goodness i have done my job and they think its creepy).<br />Anyway, me and John have long debated the "population control" factor. He says the deer would overtake the land... WELL NOT IF MAN WOULD QUIT BUILDING ON IT AND DESTROYING IT--Aren't there enough homes for everyone already anyway?! We go back and forth about this (i might add that John has not hunted since the 90's and still whines about it--to which I often reply "shut up".)<br />Recently I took a Planet Green Quiz on Eco-Myths....one of the questions was:<br />A licensed hunter helps to contribute to:<br />And I had to pick the a appropriate answer... I believe there was 4 to chose from one of which being <strong><em>Population Control</em></strong>.<br />I picked Population Control... Have I been so brain washed to actually believe there was a shred of truth to this? Well, you know I felt like maybe there was some truth to it...and really it was more about me being right in this case and wanting a good score then about sticking by my opinion, so I went with it. I can tell you that I have actually never been so happy to be so wrong. I printed that answer out and gleefully presented it to my husband later that night! Ha ha ha! "I am right and you are wrong", I sang. Reading the passage from my wrong selection:<br /><blockquote><p>Despite the common belief that hunting helps control animal populations,<br />many wildlife <strong><em>experts</em></strong> say it actually manipulates the population, causing a<br />constant compensatory rebound effect. This in turn actually upsets the<br />possibility of animals ever reaching a population equilibrium. The only<br />real reason reason for hunters, is recreation and economy (yes, hunting makes<br />a lot of money through the acquisition of licenses and equipment).</p><p align="left">Being right has never felt so good! </p><blockquote></blockquote><p><br /></p></blockquote>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-48700293759652882332009-07-22T18:07:00.012-04:002009-07-23T14:54:10.419-04:00The Thing About Girls Is....<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SmeNzv7xPTI/AAAAAAAAChU/ZL2f3DASAnk/s1600-h/moms+pics+034.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361409801587866930" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SmeNzv7xPTI/AAAAAAAAChU/ZL2f3DASAnk/s200/moms+pics+034.JPG" /></a> So by now I have introduced Abi, she's my 12 year old daughter trapped in the mind of a ...well, 12 year old girl. Really, she is an old soul I like to say, she contemplates life quietly and says very little to me about what she is wondering or questioning through life. I rarely know what is going on inside her head, but she does ask intelligent questions when she speaks~ she has absolutely no interest in me whatsoever, unless I am focusing on something positive regarding her. Oh and I do believe she values my opinion but ONLY when she has asked for it, and this does not mean she will side with me...but she quietly listens and uses my words as she so chooses.<br /><div> </div><div>See a minute ago I tried to make conversation with her (it was something she had asked me about a week ago, so I thought I would add to the conversation and I should have known better)...she stared at me, testing me... always testing me, shook her head and then walked away. Ok, my first instinct is to get mad! You know those stupid commercials.. the ones that say "talk to your kids". Well I wonder if the creators of these commercials have ever had an adolescent daughter. Honestly. Because you can't make conversation with a wall and you can't make conversation with a 12 year old if she isn't the one who brought up the topic for discussion. Try as I may its useless.</div><br /><div>I have recently found myself being difficult to her for no reason other than to be like "there! how do you like it?". Its very immature I know. I try to stop myself~ and see I did a good job by sitting down to type instead of growling at her like I so much wanted to do!<br /></div><div>Now, if you know Abi, I mean truly know her, you know she is not one to be fake. Although I am finding the older she gets, the more influence her friends have on her decision making....which is bothering me more than you will ever know~"I need a Coach purse" is not something I feel my 12 year old should believe she NEEDS! But at the same time I respect it as I do remember being a teenager and wanting the latest fashions and ... well, whatever. I was just hoping she would be more earth friendly and aware and <strong>want</strong> less than the average kid. (I'm <em>sure</em> she will grow up eventually)</div><br /><div></div><div>Now when I initially sat down to type this...I was typing out of frustration...for my daughters disregard to me...to my feelings...to things I have to say or suggest~because I really dont think I am stupid. I began typing to keep myself from yelling at her and asking her exactly where does she get off being so mean all the time. I try to talk and she just looks (stares as I mentioned early...and only for a few seconds, but enough to prove her point) at me with her blue eyes~looks at me like I'm stupid. Perhaps I'm not as smart as I think...because lets face it, where this one is concerned I am LOST! </div><br /><div></div><div>I get very frustrated with her self-centered ness. She always thinks of herself first...well, that's not exactly true, but I do find that she has very little concern for me. For example: its 5:30pm on a Wednesday night, Mason is at soccer camp, and I'm making dinner and she's sitting over me asking "can we go to the mall?". She had her birthday recently and of course wants to spend her money. NO WE CANNOT GO TO THE MALL I rebut! Which I'm sure is in direct consequence of her looking/staring at me earlier when I was attempting to talk to her. </div><br /><div></div><div>BUT as soon as she glimpsed what may have been a picture of her on my blog (i have been very quick about shutting down while typing when she ventures too close) she has been flitting in and out of the room staying close by me, making small talk about this and that. See, if she feels she is the center of the universe than she's your best friend. Me typing about her...makes her interested in me! (hmm, maybe i should type about her all the time). But as you see she's very egocentric...and I love to tell her so, to which she always replies "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?"....look it up your so smart!</div><br /><div></div><div>I love my little girl--i'm very grateful that I only have one-- and if it wasn't such a family issue (i can actually go into that detail some other day) then I would probably spend 90% of my day bragging her up and down. There is so much about her that I love and respect. But for now I am allowed my moments of frustration. Those days when she makes me want to scream and pull out my (or actually her) hair...because deep down inside I know she is exactly like me....but better, and the day will come when she will WANT to talk to me--for reasons other than the fact that if she's nice i MIGHT take her to the mall. </div>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-266207965284086422009-07-22T10:59:00.003-04:002009-07-22T11:05:07.594-04:00The Buy Nothing Challenge...Can We Do It?Recently while pecking around the blog <a href="http://www.thecrunchychicken.com/2009/07/buy-nothing-challenge-2009.html">The Crunchy Chicken</a> the author had set up the guidelines for the Buy Nothing Challenge for August and ask her follow bloggers to join in. It was funny because recently I told my husband that we need to be very careful with our "extracurricular" spending....as we tend to waste money we often don't have on things we often don't need... As is the American way, No? Anyway, it's stupid and we need to stop. <br />To enforce the rules for myself I have copied the guidelines here for easy reference when the urge to fall off the wagon does arise. I have to admit, with the new school year approaching quick I will still be able to shop and spend guilt free...unfortunately none of it will be for me. SIGH! <br /><br />* No new clothes<br />* No new gadgets<br />* No new furniture or housewares<br />* No salon services<br />* No makeup<br />* No tools<br />* No~ whatever the hell else people buyKarenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-14322449738269557032009-07-21T12:43:00.002-04:002009-07-21T12:50:56.665-04:00Greetings from a ChickenHere is a funny story...although not nearly as funny to tell as it was to experience:<br />On any typical day after arriving home from work I am greeted by our two silly mut dogs! They stand stretching upwards toward the top of the gate, tongues wagging in an attempt to be the first to say "HELLO" to me! <br />They knock each other down and out of the way, this always makes walking up those first three steps toward the door enjoyable. You know you will always be loved if you have a dog! Even if the rest of the world should yearn to hate you~your dog will inevitably be there to give you a kiss and say I love you!<br />So yesterday I pull in the driveway and exit my car as usual making my way toward the side toward, the steps, and the dogs gate. I don't see the usual hopping and laughing that usually greets me which I thought odd, as I draw closer I can hear a cluck and bawk bawk. I head up the steps and over to the gate to see what's going on and who is standing there waiting for me ...Salt of course!<br />She is clucking along coming closer to the gate to get my attention~clearly she was hoping and praying i would have a small morsel to offer her. I was sad that I didn't have a chicken snack in my purse (but honestly how could i ever have guessed?). I said hello and entered into the house....and there I was greeted by my three sillly puppies! <br />Ah, its good to be home!Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-3739035487110343182009-07-20T08:15:00.001-04:002009-07-20T11:47:52.153-04:00The Funniest Chickens You Ever Did Meet<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SmRgPpgPSgI/AAAAAAAAChM/ubC7f4hfpAs/s1600-h/046.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360515278433110530" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SmRgPpgPSgI/AAAAAAAAChM/ubC7f4hfpAs/s200/046.JPG" /></a> So I may have mentioned at some point in this blog that chickens have far more personality then I think I would have ever guessed. They are actually quite humorous and can get as excited as a dog when they see you coming.<br /><--This happens to be Salt, she is the one year old Plymouth Rock Hen who is settling in so well here at Farm Webster you would think we hatched her ourselves. (we didn't!)<br />Salt is particularly excitable when she sees any of us coming near<br />in fact it makes cooping her up at night difficult.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SmRgPvQPu5I/AAAAAAAAChE/wz2u_kPYHhg/s1600-h/045.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360515279976643474" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SmRgPvQPu5I/AAAAAAAAChE/wz2u_kPYHhg/s200/045.JPG" /></a> We wait for the chickens to head for their run at night before shutting the door...but what is happening is they hear our feet steps coming and they come running back out! I am trying to offer them as much freedom as possible so, when I go out to coop them I will retreat back to the house and wait for them to head back in. At this point I often send one of the kids because my patient is fleeting the older I get.<br />So recently the chickens have taken to coming on the deck,<br />more often when we are present. They come up, cluck around and<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SmRgPJJgiWI/AAAAAAAACg8/hN6qDylJjMo/s1600-h/047.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360515269747837282" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SmRgPJJgiWI/AAAAAAAACg8/hN6qDylJjMo/s200/047.JPG" /></a> then usually fly back off. Initially I was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">shooshing</span> them back off as there are a couple pots of veggies growing and I was fearful the chickens would make a quick snack of them. <br />After a few days of this game I decide to let them be, they didn't seem all that interested in the veggies anyway (odd considering they have <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">all but</span> destroyed everything below the deck). <br />What is interesting...I believe they are there to visit, not eat. As we sit around the table on the deck the chickens move in close and lay down. Usually Salt leads the pack and Pepper and Little Red<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SmRgOzD9PyI/AAAAAAAACg0/rzWBXROuhb0/s1600-h/025.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360515263818972962" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SmRgOzD9PyI/AAAAAAAACg0/rzWBXROuhb0/s200/025.JPG" /></a><br />are quick to follow. Laying out their wings and closing their eyes. They are completely comfortable with us, with the dogs, and the cats! It's a site I could not have imagined in a thousand years!<br />I told John "i think we have the strangest chickens in the world" to which he refuted "how many chickens do you know?". He's right, I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">don't</span> know <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">alot</span> of chickens....but I know us. I know we have a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">tendency</span> toward the strange and unusual in our house and I find<br />it incredibly entertaining to know that our chickens would rather<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SmRgOmgoHxI/AAAAAAAACgs/Ui0mR4PqKrA/s1600-h/035.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360515260449562386" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SmRgOmgoHxI/AAAAAAAACgs/Ui0mR4PqKrA/s200/035.JPG" /></a><br />spend their free time sitting with us at the table then eating bugs in the yard. To the left you can see the dogs and chickens enjoying a snack of stale potato chips together. Everyone gets along well. Even Milly our "goat chasing dog" has no interest in catching a chicken and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">maneuvers</span> around the chickens without so much as a blink of the eye in their direction.<br />Yesterday I noted <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Remi</span> playing with Bella, jumping off the deck and realizing mid-air that he was about 2 seconds from landing on one of the chickens. How he managed to spring his body forward and miss landing on them I will never know...but I could tell by his movement that he was looking out for his chicken friends. He seems to love them as much as he loves Stanley his cat. He is careful to not step on them, he watches them in the yard and when they get away from each other he rounds them back up. <br />I often sit on the deck and watch everyone "grazing" in the yard together...wishing....if only <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">everything</span> in life was this simple!Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-83827297653622895002009-07-19T21:12:00.001-04:002009-07-19T21:13:21.527-04:00Our Chicken FriendsI have to tell you I have some of the funniest pics of our chickens chillen on the deck with us today in the sun. I promise to update the blog to include these pictures within the next day or so. Mason has soccer camp starting tomorrow so that might throw me off some, but I promise promise to get it done!Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5775729258179994950.post-17251510025802165392009-07-19T20:59:00.003-04:002009-07-19T21:10:09.222-04:00Meeting Milly...Part 3: MillyMeet Milly...previously known as Shelly a name she clearly didn't know from Adam...or Eve... or <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SmPBsj3DG2I/AAAAAAAACgk/FJXZ5fXOKEI/s1600-h/moms+pics+032.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360340952785558370" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FcAbwWo5S4w/SmPBsj3DG2I/AAAAAAAACgk/FJXZ5fXOKEI/s320/moms+pics+032.JPG" /></a> Fido...or Spot. Abi scoured the internet searching for the perfect dog name, finally settling on Milly or Mildred for short. Or is that Mildred...Milly for short. Either way, here she is. Milly is a 3 year old Jack Russell Terrier, from Anderson South Carolina, who was supposedly surrender for "chasing goats". Yes, that is exactly what her surrender paperwork said...CHASED GOATS. I was thinking Oh Shit. I know alot of Jacks can't go to homes with cats, nevermind a home with cats and chickens. I think we have just made a grave mistake. OK QUIT PANICKING! Lets see what happens before you freak out Karen!<br />Milly has continued to be as unimpressed by life now as she was that day in her crate surrounded by her hoppy (yes hoppy) crate mates! Aside from her jaunts on to the counter tops to see what treats the cats may have in their bowls...she has showed little interest in the cats, the chickens or the dogs.<br />I fear her original owner may have broke her spirit and honestly we have made it a mission to bring the "dog" in Milly back out. When she wags her nub I feel satisfaction knowing there is a dog in her somewhere. She rarely smiles...but does show interest in what Remi and Bella are up to. They run and play and she follows close by~but has yet to break down and join in the fun. I know she will eventually. You can tell she's thinking about it!<br />Anyway, this is Milly and I'm sure to have more on her in the weeks to come as we break the walls of silence that currently cage her. I can tell she has a heart of gold we just need to draw it out of her!Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17058787823567798882noreply@blogger.com1