Wednesday, April 13, 2011

The Apple vis a vis the Apple Tree.


Freyda at the same age as Linden, her ram lamb.
They say that the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree - it sure is true in the case of Freyda and her ram lamb.  I was watching the sheep this morning -- in between sheets of rain and gale force winds -- and noticed that, just like his mother, Linden curls up next to Hoosier whenever possible.  It is too cute for words, but I haven't been able to catch them with my camera yet.  As soon as I appear, the dinner bell goes off in all those sheepie brains, and everyone rushes the fence.  Freyda was also the first to try hay.  Ditto Linden.  Freyda was the 'leader' of the lamb pack.  Ditto Linden.  It's fun to watch.  They both shared the platinum white curls.  I am very interested to see what Cocoa(nut) comes up with, lamb-wise.  And Juno.  I hope that Juno's sweet, sweet nature is passed along to her lamb(s).

And, speaking of sheets of rain and gale force winds, all that was mentioned last night AND this morning - while it was occuring - was that we would be getting brief periods of moderate rain, with a light breeze.  Am I on the same planet as these guys?  Not only was it more than a 'light breeze', it ripped the lids off all of my poultry feed cans (which was followed by the aforementioned sheets of rain), knocked a dirt-filled window box to the ground, toppled my giant wheelbarrow/cart, and threw Hoosier's feed trough through the air and accross the paddock.  Holy-moly.  After the initial fear that ALL the poultry feed (plus the very expensive kelp meal) was ruined, I found that only the top three inches of the cans had gotten wet, so everyone got an extra large helping of breakfast.  No on complained.  And - hurray - I had decided to keep the kelp meal in it's original bag, instead of dumping it loose into the can.  I quickly emptied it out of the soggy bag and saved it.  That stuff costs at least $50/bag.  I then went and bungeed the cans to within an inch of their lives.

I got the news from Melanie that three of the six Barnevelder eggs hatched!  That's a pretty good ratio, given we weren't sure that Kees was up to the task yet.  So Kees stays and, alas, Junior must go.  I need to put the flocks together and the two roosters spend most of their time trying to kill each other through the fencing.  I am having to do some culling of the flock anyway.  That is not something I relish, but a lot of the hens are getting up there (cover your ears, Lucy) and with the cost of feed, I cannot afford non-egg producers.  I've started a list - Junior (check); ill-tempered Home Girl (check); egg-eating Ameracauna (check); slightly-crossbilled, loudmouth Prissy (maybe).


  1. I am coming up soon on the "lighten the flock" decision and dreading it. Not to mention with 27 hens trying to figure out who is laying is a tough one. And yes, that guy resembles his dad a lot... too cute for words also.

  2. This spring is sure keeping you on your toes! I really hope the weather gets nice for you very soon!

  3. Wouldn't you love to have the weatherman job. You never need to be right and you still take home a very big paycheck. And the lamb is sooooo cute.

  4. Ruth - it's never an easy choice and you are so right. I have a total of 28, including two roosters, and get 18 eggs a day at most. That leaves a lot of freeloaders. However, the ones with names stay.

    Erin - it sounds as if everyone is getting a bumpy ride into spring this year! Loved the whining videos. You can use them as ammo in about 6 years...

    Jane - I bet weathermen are the dentists of media. Everyone hates them! I love my lambs.

  5. Thanks for the peek at what are the everyday goings on at your place. I never tire hearing of just the ol' regular things . . . which are as interesting as could be. They are REAL, Folks. Not like on "reality" TV!! (Forgive me, I forgot to take my meds this morning.)

  6. Mama Pea - it's funny, isn't it, how what we think of as humdrum is so fascinating to other people? It's like when I have to write down my morning/evening chore routine for someone. I just do it without thinking. Everyone else thinks I'm nutso.