around these parts means time to plant. Nothing about sports, sorry. (please. As if...)
So yesterday I may have overdone it a bit. We let the little biddies out of their confinement in the morning, allowing them to integrate with the hens and Stu but this meant I, as the mother hen of the nest, had to stick close to protect them from the flock. Poor little guys..... the big ones were hard on them.
Even Little Bit, who I as a human steeped in Disney thought would be at least somewhat sympathetic, got in on the act. She was merciless, taking every opportunity of my back turned to dash over to them and knock one on the back or head or ANYwhere her aim could land a blow.
So I hovered and John preached that I was wasting my time, there HAD to be a pecking order, Give it up! "That's what they are for!" And in truth, I get why LB is acting out, she's glad to be left in peace for the first time since Dec. It's someone else's turn to be the pinata!
But while I was out there, fretting, I planted the azaleas and a viburnum and something I bought thinking it was a garden herb, only to learn it's the herb that ate Texas. Lots of digging, (this is where I think I may have overdid it) and dragging more soil and turning, etc. It looked great! all soft and loamy.
I had to run an errand so I gathered up the chicks and protected them in my absence. When I returned a few hours later and went to release them again, I found that freshly-dug, loamy piles of garden soil are exactly the place a group of chickens would scratch out of existence in search of the worms that live in this milieu. (she slaps her forhead) duh!
I love the quizzical looks they give when the head is cocked to one side!
Oh NO!!!! the Brussel Sprouts in the Valley of the (everybody sing! hohoho!) Green Giants!
that's a pretty good shot!
Here, try this:
I'm Watching YOU!!!!!
I'm feeling silly.