A New Room for Ducks

These are vicious terrorists. 

"What?" you say. "Ducken Hines and The Wacky Quaker?"

Yes, indeed. They obsess over the hens. Given access, they are thugs and rapists. 

And so a while back I separated them. But given the layout of the barn, the divider gave the ducks control of the door to the outside. The hens had technical access, but were forced to run the gauntlet of ducks to get out. 

Finally today I fitted out a temporary pen so the ducks could relocate. They were less than thrilled. The chickens, however, were delighted to regain control of the access ramp. Soon I hope to catch photos of the babies outside in the sunshine!

 

 

A little blip

 

I've had one of those little blips in life that necessitate charting a new course. Please be patient while I recalculate and I'll be back soon. 

 

A Little Bundle of Joy

The first pictures of the latest Busy Solitude chick!  It was pipping last night when I turned off the barn light, so it was not a total surprise. 

A new chick is always a joy!

Watch for photos and video on the Busy Solitude Farm Facebook page

 

 

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful!

Pollen hangs thick on the goldenrod this time of year. But don't fear--this heavy pollen sticks to insect legs to be carried to the next plant. It's not in the air to cause allergies. 

Instead, it's the ragweed, seen in the foreground of this photo, which sends its pollen out in the air in search of other ragweed plants to pollinate, and in the process causes misery in people!

The gorgeous gold of the goldenrod celebrates the change of seasons. I welcome the beginning of autumn.
 

 

Could it be five?

Back on July 19 (a full four weeks ago) I wrote that the Cuckoo Marans hen had taken to the nest. At one point she had ten eggs under her, but she's gradually eaten up the ones that weren't developing. 

This afternoon when she hopped out there were six, but I rolled them around and one was too light to have anything worthwhile in it. I threw it in the garbage can in the barn. Unfortunately I forgot that I'd emptied the can earlier thus week. When the egg hit the bottom it broke, emitting the gaggy smell of rotten egg. Eck!

So now there are five. I long ago stopped marking them. I don't know if she's been on those specific eggs for weeks, or if they were freshly laid in the past few days. 

But I can tell you that I dreamed last night that she hatched five eggs!  Foreshadowing?