Wednesday, September 20, 2017

New Roost ~ Old Hens

Freshened up and ready for the flock.

Last night was the third night for the chickens with their new roost and shelter. The thing is, our roost is new, but our hens are old. And chickens are creatures of habit, with very wee noggins, so it takes a bit of negotiating and manipulating to get them into new routines.

See Trillian, the golden Ameraucana? She's roosting on the tension cable. That is the spot where most of the hens roosted, back when I provided them with a cottage and actual roosts, and other suitable refuges. Even in the middle of our worst storms, I would rush to their aid, and discover them all, beaks and breasts to the gale, swinging and clinging to that cable, and mad as wet hens. Crazy birds, indeed. But with the old cottage out, and the shade cloth taken down, too, they have no easy way of reaching that slim cable, and on this third night, only Trillian managed the feat of flying up and nailing her landing.

Cocky little hen. Two hens, Liberty and Emma Thompson, opted to sleep in the nest box. And four hens, the ones I manually placed on the roost the first, and second, night, had it figured out... Fiona, Mako, Koa, and Momma Thomson were settled in on the new roost. Only the two Wyandotte hens, Pepper and Pippi, were pacing and eye-balling the cable. Those two hens are pretty sure of themselves, and have not taken kindly to my interference in their bedtime routines. I managed to park Pippi on the roost. She was not happy about it, but she finally calmed herself, and stayed put.

Pepper paced and squawked, and kept measuring the cable. You can practically see the gears turn, hear the motor hum, in their tiny heads, when they are calculating a move. She decided to approach the second cable, from an old pine trunk. She studied her target, measured the distance, took wind speed and direction into account, and I waited for her to make the attempt. I've diagrammed the scene for you...

"Spot where Pepper almost lost her head..." that was not a pleasant thing to witness. Her plan may have been sound but the execution was almost a beheading. She slammed into the cable, neck first, then fell gracelessly. I would have been about 75% more concerned and sympathetic if Pepper weren't such a mean chicken. I think she must have some bounce to her, because she walked off and looked ready to try again, but I intervened.

This is your roost, now, Pepper. And it seemed she'd never stopped squawking her objection.

Hello, clucked Fiona, amiably.

Cluck-off, squawked Pepper, anxiously. I'm flying the coop!

She paced and squawked, shifted, and huffed, until the light faded, and she could not see the ground, or any reason to jump, after all. I suspect she woke up with the rising sun, and fancied she'd always roosted in this spot, and always will. With a little negotiating, and a little manipulating, even an old hen can settle into a new roost routine.

Tasha and Ada have had an easier time adjusting to their new shelter. Their only concern is that Geoff installed a hose, and to their dismay, I was hosing off fences and equipment. Water! Shudder! Our dear ungulates think water, especially the kind that splashes and sprays, is the worst, most cringeworthy substance imaginable. Neither of them got a drop wet, but long after I put the hose away, they approached warily, deeply concerned.

All clear, Ada. You're safe.

All clear, all safe, and oh-so beautiful.

With Infinity More Monkeys, a picture a day.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Tea & Company

Maria tiptoed into our room with a big cup of hot tea, for me. Suddenly a cozy morning, beneath an open window, with hints of fall blowing in, became even sweeter. I sat up to sip my treat, Maria slipped between the covers, and the cats positioned themselves for snuggling, too. What could possibly compel me to leave this nest? While Geoff slept, Maria and I chatted in whispers, we giggled, sighed, and doted on cats. I picked up my shawl, added two more rounds. Now it's at the plodding part, where it takes a lot more effort to show any results. It progresses, somehow.

Maria and I talked about the first, official, day of fall, and how soon is not too soon to bring out Halloween decorations. We talked about all the pretty things we saw when we went window-shopping, and then we played with the collar of fluff Cairo wears around his shoulders, and admired how regal he looks. I reflected that I will be making a floral crown for a friend, this week. Then, Maria described our shared desire to return to Massachusetts. We don't need much prompting to think of why we should go, what we would do. This time she declared, "We could add maple leaves to the crown," and we both recalled the maple leaf roses we made in Jennifer and Ken's garden. And we sighed some more, wistfully, longing for New England and our friends there.

Tea in bed. What a thoughtful gift. And clouds, and open windows, cats, and Maria's joyful, generous company... it's wonderful to be in a beautiful moment, to feel it, and hold it, and store it up for happy recollection.

With Infinity More Monkeys, a picture a day.

Saturday, September 16, 2017

While The Washers Spin...

"Email us if you know of or have a weird home," Weird Home Tours. I read this description, aloud, from an Instagram account that started following BOoMNerds, our page for Benevolent Order of Makers. I looked up, from my phone, and was face to face with this familiar face, who asked, wryly, "Do we have a weird home?" On the whole, we are flattered.

It's alright that I am sitting at my desk, editing photographs, examining my deep thoughts and other musings, because I am parallel processing. That's right, while I compose insightful reflections, and cover significant news of the day, my washing machine is spinning clothes in soap and water, and my dishwasher is spinning soap and water on our cups and plates. And for a shiny moment, I congratulate myself and feel a brilliant, if brief, sensation of accomplishment, success.

In other news, Maria and I figured out that there hasn't been a post or picture about, or of, our kitty, Neo Cairo Nepenthes, in over a month. We would like to remedy this sad oversight with a fresh crop of pictures of The Boop, our Puppy Cat.

Neo Cairo Nepenthes I, in repose~

Neo Cairo Nepenthes I, in indifference~

Someone forgot to return this chair to it's usual spot, and it's been wandering from room to room since June. Recently, it settled on a niche at the bottom of the stairs, next to the side table that also established itself at the entry, and has since become an established fixture. Cairo has claimed the chair as his own. The cat glares mercilessly at people, or objects, that avail themselves of his property. And this is, in part, how we decorate. Something finds its way into our home, and inevitably it assumes a purpose, or it becomes so conspicuous that it, paradoxically, is invisible, and is left alone.

Observe: Conspicuous, leave it alone.

Chango, on watch for things that may be trying to find their way into our home.

Oh! I hear the dulcet tune of our washer, and so I must away!

With Infinity More Monkeys, a picture a day.

Friday, September 15, 2017


Dare I say... summer is waning? We had a terrible spell of record heat, and humidity. But that was over quickly, mercifully. Days are perceptibly shorter. I bought yarn. Yarn in a decidedly autumn hue, golden and spiced, like pumpkin, like leaves still hanging in trees, but ready to fall. I am ready to fall. Ready to crochet shawls, and make soups. Ready to anticipate falling leaves. Ready to read aloud, not sitting between two fans and open windows, but near the fireplace, with quilts, and cats, woolen socks. I feel the tug of home, and as I was browsing through my phone, I thought my longing for comforts and coziness of home are pretty evident in the pictures I've been taking. It makes me thankful, glad.