Saturday, July 27, 2013

Life of Foo

Mister Washburn Foo, 17 weeks old... Huh, guess this makes him an Aries. 

Today's forecast:  an uneasy recovery from Thursday's surgery.  Lots of sleeping, coughing, shivering, tenderness, a return to the vet's office, a fever, a shot, a big pill, more sleeping.  

Poor, poor kitty.  He probably thinks the run of bad luck started early Thursday, when no one would feed him.  Then he was plucked from his morning nap, on Maria's head nest, and had to endure a car ride.   Not to the fish market, or the yarn shop, but to the place.  As much as they love Mister Foo at the place, he's probably begun to notice a pattern of awkward circumstances, probing, poking, and questionable inquiries into his personal habits.  Also, the place is frequented by dogs.  No, the morning did not begin well.  

He came home feeling less himself, and under advisement to 'avoid heavy lifting, refrain from leaping, chasing, darting, flying, and limit activity of a kittenish nature.'  And, to be perfectly honest,  he did not, strictly, follow doctor's orders.  

Poor, poor kitty is mellow now.  He's a quiet kitty.  A tender kitty.  We love our Foo.  We are watching him, and catering to his needs. We wish him well.  

Well, most of us are concerned.  Some of us are enjoying the peace and quiet of Mister Foo's convalescence.  

Meet Las Chiquitas

Thompson, Cuckoo Maran... 
Showing rooster signs.  Tail feathers are showing a tiny droop at the tips. 

Liberty, Cuckoo Maran...
She still has no tail feathers, just downy bloomers, and lots of white on her wings. 

Liberty is a little sweetheart. 

SootSprite, Cuckoo Maran...
She has a hen's tail and lots of white in her wings. 

Thomson, Cuckoo Maran...
She looks a lot like Thompson, but her feathers do not curl.  

Totoro, Ameracaunas...
Our biggest Chiquita.  She of the eyeliner and racing stripes. 

Totoro finally agreed to have her portrait taken.  So, we should share her pretty pictures. 

Mako, Ameracauna...
Cinnamon and spice, and very, very nice. She pecks fingers, eagerly, but she is a sweet girl who is happy to sit in your hand, perch on your knee, pip and chat. 

Friday, July 26, 2013

{this moment}

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.  A simple, special, extraordinary moment.  
A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.  

Inspired by Soule Mama.
If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments, for all to find and see.

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Las Chiquitas

They're growing, right?  They must be growing.  Friends tell me they are growing, but they still seem so teeny to me!   

I should try to get a picture of the Juniors for comparison.  The Juniors have already moved into Camp Whoop-Up with the rest of the chickens, rabbits, and goats.  No fuss, no muss.  The older chickens were mellow, and the Juniors were happy in the big mix.  So, I guess that hurdle is behind us.  

The Cuckoos and the Ameracaunas, the wee ones, still sleep under their heat lamp, and take lots of spontaneous baby naps.  They're basically adorable. One moment they are six feathered wind up toys, spinning in every direction, and the next they are like one organism... They hear something, dash toward the same point, and sit as still as can be.  They share a sense.  

The best part is that they know us and like us!!  I wish I could say the same for the Juniors, but I'm afraid we came on their scene a bit too late.  We'll keep trying, though.  The Chiquitas hop onto our open hands, and clamber up onto our laps.  We can hold them, pet them, and even sit as living roosts!  Maria had all six of them napping on her extended legs.  We think they are attracted to the calico print of her dress, which we now fondly refer to as the mother hen dress.  

All the chicas have names, too.  At least nicknames.  Only Maria and I can tell them apart, though not always readily.  We have:
Mako Mori
& Thomson... Who are hardly distinguishable at all!

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Life of Foo

We pulled back his lip, stared at his teeth.  He never moved, except to breath.  Vengeance was his:  At two in the morning he sprang onto the bed and gnawed on my knee.

To be continued...

Tuesday, July 23, 2013


Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.

Sunday, July 21, 2013


We have bread and cakes to barter with, fruit, too.  We slept in the barn, under our Scratch 'n' Peck quilt... The brothers slept by our campfire, under night clouds, a coastal blanket.  

Today, Maria and I are baking, painting, sewing, tending chickens and goats... And turning off the power. {Special exemptions for blogging, of course}