Torturing the Toms
If we could bottle that level of resigned hatred, we could rule the WORLD. Or blow it up.
The best part of this experience was the part I didn’t catch on film. Fred put Tommy down on the table with the purple braids still on his head, and Tommy tossed his head back and forth like a headbanger at a concert. I thought I was going to pass out, I was laughing so hard.
Death of a Watermelon
Watermelon, about to go off to be sacrificed to the chickens.
“WE CAIN’T EAT NO WALLAMELLA LIKE THAT!”
10:07 AM: Let the nomming begin.
11:07 AM: The nomming continues.
1:07 PM: Not much left to eat, but they’re giving it the ol’ chicken try!
3:30 PM: Nothing left but the rind. They’ll continue to pick at the rind until there’s nothing left but the skin. And then they’ll continue to pick at the skin ’til it’s either eaten or someone (ie, Fred) comes along and picks it up and tosses it on the compost heap.
Pics from around Crooked Acres
Hummingbird in the mimosa tree.
The little bitty newborn chickens are cute, but it’s when they get a little bigger that I have a hard time not picking them up and squeezing them with the fangers.
The babies are getting brave, venturing into the back yard.
It makes the Mommas nervous when the babies go through the fence into the back yard. Can’t say as I blame them.
Teeny web in the fence, covered in dew.
Big web, built between the end of the house and the fence. I never did see the spider responsible.
I’m confused – are these crocuses? And do crocuses (crocii?) normally bloom in the late summer/ early fall? I thought they were a spring flower!
Fred put the baby chickens out in a “playpen”, because they like being outside. Maxi was watching them. She watches the chickens all the time and we’ve never had a problem. Five minutes later, Fred found her with a dead baby Rhode Island Red chick. Grrr.
Can’t really blame her, since she was just doing what cats do, but I’m not really thrilled with her right now. (We’ll be keeping a closer eye on her from here on out, and probably putting the “playpen” in the chicken yard from here on out.)
“I would never kill and eat a baby chicken. I am a good girl.”
2007: They’re awfully sweet and awfully cute.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.