Guess which llama is made to sleep just outside the roof of the former horse barn - now - llama - barn?
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Now we have his feed on the porch, since he feels so free to come up and drink from the dog bucket. We give him warm water, too.... and keep a tub of feed. Today he came up to get a drink and eat a little, and just stand out of the sleet and snow for a while, even though it is concrete. He was Beau, the Snow Pony.
Your blogger has been gone for a while, but surprise... the three week respite from snow is gone and .... it's BACK! Punxatawney Phil predicted six more weeks of winter, and Mother Nature listened. Today we awoke to ice on the windows and miserable outdoor animals, covered in snow and ice, and back to shivering in the cold. Neither horse has used it's barn today, preferring instead to (Beau) stand on the porch and (Lilly) stand out in the cold near the stall at the chicken house.
All chickens are locked up after a week of playing in the pasture and a Saturday of running back and forth between pasture and henyard. The ducks and geese gloried in the thawed pond and deep puddles in the pasture, where they could clean themselves thouroughly. I took advantage of warmer temps Thursday evening and dumped one of the winter troughs and cleaned the goo out of it, and gave the llamas and birds clean, clean water to drink after two months of green water. Now we are all back to carrying buckets, marauding starlings (eating and drinking everything they can get to) and general misery. Ugh.
Yesterday afternoon was spent at the Home Show and Flower Lawn and Garden show which was curiously bereft of most things flower, lawn or garden. Disappointing, it was a chance to connect with some old friends and former co-workers, so was a success in that respect. That is one show that has changed so much it will be crossed off the list for further visits. We came home to snowflakes, but firm opinons (from me) that we were "not going to get it this time". How wrong was I!
Our three baby chicks born on Super Bowl Sunday are thriving with their two mamas in the nursing cage, and Ratchet the Rooster has begun living in the rabbit hutch. As he is a true son of Curley, the deceased frizzle bantam, I want to preserve his frizzle genes to pass down. There are two little roosters in the little henhouse beating up on him, so they will not be with us long, I am afraid. Rambo, son of the mighty Rambo, has also taken a drubbing from Studly, so to be imprisoned with him for a long Sunday will be hard... he has no where to run but up onto a roost. It's too cold and still spitting sleet to let them out, though, and why make it easier for the starlings to get in???" As it is, when I go out shortly to check feed and water, scores of them will fly out the openings in the eaves. Next year those will be closed off... I am tired of feeding wild birds, and taking a chance with their diseases.
I wish I could remember how beautifu the snow truly is... but we are all, animal and human, tired of it.