…here in the first week of March, where it doesn’t belong. It’s supposed to cool down a bit after the weekend, but even then we’re looking at days in the sixties and nights in the high twenties, and only for a few days. We’ve had a month of nearly unbroken gorgeous weather, and I thought the price for that would be higher.
Went to check for eggs, and got “A little privacy, please?”
Seymour continues to grow, and he has turned into a fine looking boy. He’s only the second cock bird we’ve had in the whole gulch that doesn’t make too much noise or abuse the hens, and with him around the hens have calmed amazingly. It really seems he was the missing element, a sentiment likely to infuriate any feminists who blunder by.
And last summer’s new pullets, by and large, don’t think I’m the antichrist. Other than picking them up daily since they were chicks until now they either don’t mind or actually like it, I haven’t treated them any differently than any of the others. They’re still not mature enough to be productive, just eating like maniacs and popping out occasional practice eggs. Yesterday I got one without a shell.
And my pear tree is budding! Which would normally be a very bad thing this early in the year but what the hell? It looks like Spring is coming early this year*.
*Not making that prediction! No! You did NOT hear that here!