Char's Blog

Going down the trail.

Peeking to see if we’re coming.

Having a good time.

Miss Sunshine has been quite frightened of thunderstorms.

Granted there have been a few unsettling things happen during last years thunderstorms- branches breaking off, eletricitiy going out, trees breaking in half.  Stuff like that.  But she does go a bit overboard in the frightened department and, in typical for her fashion, will not listen to any reason becuase she is too busy making noise herself.

A few weeks ago we had a thunderstorm roll through the hills around us.  We had a meeting in town so the kids and I headed out to the park where the meeting was being held.  We looked at the gray skyes and hurried through our meeting as the kids played.  There were a few flashes of light in the distance that Sunshine commented on as we drove in.

“What was that?”

What?

“That flashing?”  sounding nervous.

Oh, probably nothing much. 

We went to see some friends afterwards and a few flashes were seen and a few low rumbles were heard.

On the way home Sunshine’s high voice proclaimed from the back:

“There was a thunderstorm, and I wasn’t afraid!”

Oh that’s good news honey!

“…because I’m five now!”

Makes all the difference in the world.

We had the Little Chicks outside in the pen one day.  Most stayed in their box but one was out exploring.  He had someone keeping a pretty close eye on him.

The Dog made sure the ones in the box were doing fine too.

He was very attentive to his little, self appointed, charge.

The Dog still likes to go out and check on all the chickens.  He’ll watch the Littles when they hide in their corner of the pen.  Sometimes he’ll get pretty excited and chase them out- just to see them scatter.  He’ll try to help round them up when they are out in the yard.

Want him to come baby sit for you?

You have to see this one to believe it.

Yes, Miss Pixie is wearing sandals (jellies) with socks, her nightgown, heavy jacket and mittens.

It’s June.

I will say that our mornings can be rather chilly sometimes but I do think this is a little extreme.

Then she gives me that Otter smile….

(Click to enlarge and see her shoes.)

She has her googles on to be safe!

But maybe these two were better helpers.

What do you think?

My husband is very considerate.  He is always thinking of me, putting my interests forward and striving to do the things that make me happy.  Therefore, he was very concerned that I would feel the Empty Nest, the Chicken- less kitchen, severely.  He didn’t want me to go through that trauma so suddenly.  Ever thinking of me, he brought these home for me…. and my kitchen.

There are ten Black Australorps.  They are a breed that originally came from Austrailia.  They cheep with an Aussie accent.   They were a day old when they entered my kitchen.

The little guy in the corner, upside down is just sleeping.  They were so little they could get inside the feeder and would sometimes just fall asleep in there.  The white one is a Polish something that apparently doesn’t come from Poland but from Norway. I am very confused about his decent.   HIs accent is very confused.  It’s a fun one in that it’s feathers on it’s head will grow really long and floppy.

I no longer have a fowl-less kitchen.  A crisis was averted.

This shows how far behind I am at blogging but I wanted to share it.

This lovely thing, not the child doing a model impersonation, is my Mother’s Day gift.

It is tuned to the key of A or A minus, I can’t remember.   We hung it on the front porch but decided it wasn’t catching the wind there so we moved it out to the bird feeder.

I keep my kitchen window open a bit so I can hear them through out the day.

The chicks were growing up. Being teenagers, if you will.

The food would get low and they would fly to the fridge to get some more.

OK, maybe not. But they would get restless and start flying out of the box onto various nearby things. Like the table and the island. I was thrilled as I am sure you would be too.

They were staying up way too late at night, “talking.” We turned out their light.

They were simply getting too big for the box and needed more space. We’d try taking them outside for awhile each day to run off energy but it didn’t seem to be working.

Company was coming…the race was on to get a pen done.

The Col. had helpers.

Some were very enthusiastic and worked away even when a friend visited.

There were supervisors, too.

Nailing together the door.

In their very nice pen under their temporary shelter as they oversee the building of their coop.

Ah, I had a fowl-less kitchen again.