The dogs are snoring at my feet. Charley's fur is so thick...he especially feels the heat.
Shoot, I do, too. The keys on the computer board keep sticking to my fingers in a thin pool of sweat.
But that's summer for you.
The 'baby' chicks are now out in the yard, mixing with the older hens. The chicks are now awkward teenagers, with gawky legs. They forever look like they're pulling down too-tight skirts, and God forbid any of the chicks go anyplace in the yard by themselves. Instead, they run in a tight, nervous group. (Sound like any of the teenagers in your life?)
They remind me a lot of the velociraptors in Jurassic Park:
The chickies would be doing this too, if they had teeth and thought they'd get away with it. The strange thing: they make a half-peeping, almost-clucking noise that reminds me of the velociraptors. They've got to be related, the little terrorists. (They're supposed to be related, scientifically speaking.)
Meanwhile, now that articles and e-mail are done, lawn mowing awaits. And cleaning out the chicken coop. Stacking some firewood. Planting more beans. (The terrorists took care of the rows I planted a few weeks ago, in spite of netting and muttered curses.)
Maybe a crisp salad and iced tea for supper...and a movie about snow.
|Our new threesome, the Rhode Island 'Production' Reds, are this orange color. The rest are glossy black Australorps.|
Go here for a chicken/dinosaur progression...scroll down to see the graphic. Yup, I agree!