It’s been a pretty good week. On Sunday, there was Quarry Fools Day, in which many people came out to take a tour around the Quarry, hear all about how the business aspect of it works, be convinced to invest in the whole thing, and of course, admire my baby chickens. (At least two people admired my baby chickens that day.) People also admired the house that Jason had built for the chickens.
Fancy chicken house, with windows!
That is Jackish. Jackish is turning out to be the favorite chicken. This is because Jackish likes to jump up on our heads/shoulders/collar. We think it’s a cute behavior, and cute behaviors=better chickens. We don’t let her hang out there very long, though, because chickens have a tendacy to poop, a lot, and it smells just terrible.
On Monday, it was another beautiful semi-sunny day. I took the opportunity to get some mildew cleaning done on the tiny house.
Meanwhile, my faithful pooch Franki kept watch.
Just waiting to punch a sucker in the face with a medicine ball should they decide to try to sneak up on me while working. She is an amazing dog, and has been totally amazing out at the Quarry. When I first moved out there with her I was a little worried that she’d chase some of the smaller creatures around. So far, however, she has shown absolutely no interest in eating chicken or chasing ducks (although they do like to run away from her regardless) and is more or less indifferent to them altogether. Which is great. She is a good dog.
It’s hard to believe that she is ten! I have a hard time believing it myself. And people have been asking me a lot lately, “How long have you had your dog?” or “How old is Franki?” And when I respond, “I’ve had her for nine years, she’s about ten,” they have all said, “WOW! I thought she was much younger than that, she looks like a puppy!” She acts like a puppy still. She has been getting the ball thrown for her almost every morning and she tears off after it almost at the same lightening speeds she did when I used to throw it for her in the field across the street from my mom’s house nine years ago. Amazing!
What’s all this talk about the dog, though? This is chicken Friday, not Franki Friday!
So I present to you, without further ado, more adorable chicken pictures:
Do not be alarmed. This chicken is NOT dead. This chicken is taking a nap. We were admiring her impressive little wingspan! No little stubby wings for our banties, they are already almost ready to take flight!
Remember that picture from a few weeks ago? When these three chickens were all bundled into a pile, in one hand? Now it takes two hands to pile them up. And they’re quite a bit more squirmy and spry, so it’s trickier.
They got to run around in the grass for several hours on Monday while it was still sunny. It started to get a little cool and breezy, though, so I brought them all in for a nap under my wing.
D’awwww.
As for the rest of my week, not bad, fairy uneventful. Oh wait, that’s right, except for Tuesday which totally blew. It was super pouring down rain, and Jason and I got into a car accident! A minor car accident (most of them have been), thank goodness! But still, that means I have been in a total of seven car accidents, of which I was a passenger for 5, and two of which I was “driving” but was actually stopped and then hit by other people—meaning in every single accident I had no control over the situation. At first I was thinking, “I have the worst luck as far as car accidents go! Who has so many car accidents happen to them?” But then I thought, “I have been in seven car accidents, and never been seriously injured, and I am still alive. That is pretty good luck.” It’s all about positive thinking, folks.
And positive, sweet little chickens.
D’Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw. Chicken hug.