It was, as I have said, a fine autumnal day; the sky was clear and serene, and nature wore that rich and golden livery which we always associate with the idea of abundance. The forests had put on their sober brown and yellow, while some trees of the tenderer kind had been nipped by the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, and scarlet.... As Ichabod jogged slowly on his way, his eye... ranged with delight over the treasures of jolly autumn. ~Washington Irving, "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow"

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Heat, Dust and Hen Holes

Will you look at this...
This use to be a nice garden area, with bark and some Iris lining the border. But the ecologically right thing to do is to let your chickens FREE RANGE these days. So we let our darlings outside to, supposedly, eat grass and bugs and produce quality eggs.
 But no... all they want to do is dust themselves.
I'm sure that it feels good to wallow in the damp dirt on a hot day... but my garden is taking a big hit. It's a good thing that the garden in the front of the house has a fence around it. It's safe from this blatant disregard for my efforts.
This "garden area" ( and I use the word loosely)  is across the driveway and fair game for the chickens, the turkey and anything else that happens along.
I know that my chickens are pretty. I know that they give us eggs.
But... between the chickens, the deer and the turkey... I have just about given up on trying to make the driveway look like anything but... a driveway.

 Napoleon, our rooster, is no help. The other day he got stuck in one of the hen's dusting holes. Like his French namesake, he is small.  He's a bantam rooster and sometimes he gets in over his head. Unlike his French counterpart, he is not a good military commander and  he doesn't like to start wars.
I think I made a mistake on the name.
Poor Napoleon. I'm sure this was quite embarrassing for him. I had to help him to his feet. He's really getting old.

One of the Roadies was driving my dogs crazy near the front garden fence. She was in the area I call THE BOMB DROP.
Look at her! 
This use to be a beautiful garden area... very Italian, with its Cypress trees and terracing.
Now, at the end of the summer, when the deer are hungry, even the "deer proof" plants are fair game. That's  chewed up Lantana, in the planter, in the foreground.
DEER... TURKEY... FOX... AND CHICKENS... they all come and find sanctuary here. It's an equal opportunity rest area.

There she is...
Looking at me like I'M bothering HER.
And see that plant next to her. Yes, It's a lovely, blue flowered perennial that I have to keep replanting.
You, Missy, are on my list.
What? You gave me an egg this morning?
Big deal!
Annie, watching all of this from the fence, sat up and said,
"Would you like some help with this, Farmlady? I can make it happen."
"Would you and the Prospector like CHICKEN for dinner?"









7 comments:

Rubye Jack said...

Very funny commentary and the chickens... Well, the chickens are what they are. The cat, indeed, is the wisest of us all it seems.

Teri said...

LOL, when I lived in Chicago, the doves would do that in my garden, but they never made such deep holes.

Teri said...

LOL, when I lived in Chicago, the doves would do that in my garden, but they never made such deep holes.

Brian Miller said...

lol...the cat def looks ready to jump in and help...smiles....very interesting on all the holes...

Kerry O'Gorman said...

Ah, yes...the dust bathing...we used to call them land mines! That rooster is quite pathetic...in a funny sort of good way! It's been so dry here...wish it would rain for about a week.

Madeline's Album said...

Chickens will be chickens. Annie looks like she really wanted to help you out. Have a blessed day. Madeline

Karen Deborah said...

this post is so cute the truth about free range chickens. you got fence?