Tag Archives: chickens

Finally, after quite a bit of hand wringing and prognosticating by the weather men, the storms arrived.  As I was leaving my hair appointment across town, a wall of black threatened from the west, and I high-tailed it home.  The rain caught up to me and then met me in new waves when I got to the farm.

Rain at the farm is a blessing.  A mixed blessing, but one I cannot begrudge.  I honestly believe the animals are a bit inconvenienced by the wetness, just as I am.  At least from judging their faces as I made my rounds this evening.


A very bright spot near the house, from time to time, is this crazy amaryllis plant.  It was here when we bought the property, survived all the construction and re-landscaping, and bursts forth in exuberant bloom every once in a while with no warning.  Clearly, it belongs here.


Poor boys.  The next big project, as soon as it dries out a little bit, will be to build a shelter for the wethers and rams.  Since our huge hay haul filled up the Cadillac shed, they've had no place to get out of the rain.  And it has rained three times.  Yes, I know they're sheep, but I feel like an animal ought to have the choice to stand in the rain like a ninny if it wants, or get under cover.   Next week.  Tarps, cattle panels and baling wire, and we're golden.  Then I can sleep better at night.



The ewes (and Moses the yearling wether) are snug under their little hoop house shelter and don't mind the current weather at all.  Their number one concern is how fast I can get them a little treat of grain, if you don't mind.


Speaking of ninnies...  The chickens are so single-minded about grazing in the fields that they ignore the rain till they realize they're sopping wet and uncomfortable.  They puff up, shake out their feathers, and gripe at the top of their little chicken lungs, like someone pulled a really mean prank on them.


Then it's back to the pasture for more grasshopper hunting.  Go, girls.


Poor Vanni - he hates the thunder and lightning.  I found him in a new little cave he built for himself in the alpaca barn.  Judah's the same way.  Judah figured out how to weasel into the hay barn when I thought I had all the entrances shut tight.  These LGD boys, brave in the face of a coyote or garbage truck, are no match for big, noisy weather.  And the girls just sleep through the whole thing.


The alpacas prefer to stay under shelter for the most part.  Although later, I caught Joseph out in the rain, completely unaware of the rain on his dense, fine fiber coat.


The temperatures have dropped blissfully into the 70's, and I'll definitely take that improvement.  I can hear the stream rushing by in its channel, but haven't seen it peek up over the banks yet.  We could still get a bit of storm surge even tomorrow, depending on how much rain gets dumped overnight.  The chorus frogs are in full voice at dusk, and I can almost hear the pasture gulping down the refreshing drink.   As we hear every day in casual conversation around here, "we really can use the rain."