Oz Whiston writing as Oz Drummond (birdhousefrog) wrote,
Oz Whiston writing as Oz Drummond

May Day or is that M'Aidez!

I always loved May Day as a child in Ohio. Lots of flowers to be picked. Somewhere, a May Pole calls me, but I need a partner for that dance. Our dining room table is covered with glasses filled with sprays from the flowering trees: dogwood, crabapple, lilac...

Weatherdude is away for a day. One never appreciates the little things until they're not there. As a result of the dude being away:

1) I had to put the chickens to bed, which I forgot to do until after dark. Resulting in 2 chickens out of the run and missing. Search in the dark for missing chicken because only Walkabout is smart enough to come to me after it's dark. Other chicken finally located huddled and cooing by the barn door. But only after counting 10 chickens five times to be sure one was still missing.
2) I have to read bedtime stories. I don't read other people's stories very well. I always want to change the wording.
3) E did not fall asleep until 10:30 and watched Dancing With the Stars.
4) I fell asleep to the 11pm news and woke up with tv on at some ungodly hour.
5) No one was up at 4 am to feed the animals, so the dog got into the trash (for no apparent reason). The 'end' result is flatulent dog.
6) The cats are vocal about the delay in breakfast and Mrs. G kept jumping on the counter in spite of being tossed to the ground repeatedly.
7) Last night's dishes are still in the sink and still dirty.
8) And the final indignity to my morning: the coffee pot ran over.

As for the chickens, interested readers have queried whether Walkabout might teach offspring to fly over the fence. As she's a hybrid, she's not breeding stock. The hybrids don't breed true. Plus, ain't no rooster in this joint except Weatherdude. However, we have now established that flying over the fence can be learned behavior. We have a second flight bird. She is now as good at flight as Walkabout, though still stupid about being outside the fence after dark (see above). Walkabout runs to me at the gate.

Naming. Anya is the noisy bird. It isn't why she was named Anya. She was named Anya because she's the lightest colored bird and very pretty. But she is also the most vocal of our birds. Walkabout is Walkabout. She's now identified by two white spots behind her comb and her behavior. She hangs up at the house the most, runs to us more than the others, still has very individualized behavior patterns. Featherless Biped is a chicken that has lost most of her feathers and is showing no signs of replacing them. When she stretches her neck out, it's not a pretty sight. She looks like she should be hanging on a hook. Still pondering a name for walkabout's girlfriend who also gets out. She's another alpha chicken and I'm actually happier that Walkabout isn't wandering alone. E claims another chicken has the name of Daphne and one of Beffy, but until she can identify the birds consistently, I reserve judgment.

Oh and after five years and many attempted names playing on E's name and the Plaza Hotel, the name for our property finally became evident. It is, of course, Walkabout Farm.

Frog Out
Tags: farm, house

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