Big Hot Tranny Mess

Many of you know how much I love Ruthie. Up until this past weekend she would sit on my lap and nap, watch t.v., and generally be sweet. Then she bit me. And now she is crowing. Although I paid extra for females, turns out this is a rather inexact science, shall we say art, and my Ruthie girl is a rooster. A chickooster. Mike thinks he remembers me saying that if we ended up having a rooster, I would find him a good home or if I didn't, Mike would put him in a pot. I don't remember saying or agreeing to either of these things. I have a plan, however. My goal is to completely emasculate this chicken so that she always thinks she is a girl, just with boy parts.


Luckily, she is a perfect gentleman with the other ladies. When I open up the chicken door that folds down into a ramp leading into the chicken yard, she lets all the other girls go outside first, then she makes her grand entrance by flapping her wings, crowing, and basically hurling herself down the chicken ramp. Silkies are not known for their ability to fly, so rather than being graceful, this is really quite hilarious. I tell her that she is terrifying, and this seems to sufficiently mollify her. But honestly, the reality is that she is one hot tranny mess.

Of course, I can't get her to do any of those things on video because she seems to be rather camera shy, so rather than flapping, crowing, and hurling herself down the ramp, here she is in at least half her glory, crowing, pooping, then crowing again. Please forgive the amateurish video. I'm new.

Something New, Something Lu

I Really Hope My Sister Doesn't Read This

I have been working on knitting a lace shawl for my sister Kate's wedding for about a year now. I kid you not, it has been almost exactly one year since I knitted that first stitch. Kate's dress is gorgeous, and I truly believe that only something hand-made could complement it properly. This shawl is really quite beautiful.

Alas.

Ivy hates it. She hates it so much she tried to derail the project by chewing up my knitting needles. What I don't understand is that this particular project was stored in a cubby, nicely folded, and when I went to work on it, it was still folded up, but the needles were chewed. Fiendish and diabolical is Ivy's particular brand of magic.


Sadly, this is not the first pair of knitting needles I have lost to a dog. Milo once had a fondness for the bamboo as well. Wood is a difficult drug for these dogs to avoid.

Happy Chicks

The coop is now finished, except that I would like to paint some flowers on the front (it is inhabited by a bunch of ladies, after all). Valynne and I painted it all pretty-like. The girls seem very happy in it.

There is still just a bit of work to be done. The fenced run is being built this Wednesday. By the way, the saw on the right was for cutting some trim. It's not for the chickens. I need to move it. It looks unseemly.


One very exciting development is the silkie's ears. As you can see on Ruthie, they are an iridescent blue. Am I alone in my envy here? Granted, the hair and feathers will cover up the blue soon enough. Ruthie is the best chicken of them all. She sleeps in my lap on the couch and watches t.v. with me. Tonight when I took her back to the coop, she started to cry when I set her down. It was very touching. Then she pooped on my shoe.

The lovely Ruthie

Goodbye, lemon soap. I loved ye well.

Ivy has learned to open the shower door. This is unfortunate, as she polished off the lovely lemon poppy seed soap given to me by my friend Valynne, brought all the way from Idaho. I actually put the tiny chewed up remaining piece of the soap on the table to take a picture tonight, but while I was zooming in with the camera, Ivy snatched the remainder and swallowed it whole. So no picture of the soap. If Ivy starts burping bubbles, I will be sure to try and catch them on camera.

Thoity Doity Boids

Coco, Vivi & Mavis

As you can see in the photo above, Coco, Vivi and Mavis have taken to roosting on top of the pen. We really need to finish up the coop, which is pretty much completed except for the run. We've run into a bit of a rock problem in digging the fence posts. "We" meaning, of course, "Mike."

Most days the chickens seem to like me, and Coco loves to be held. However, they do have their psychopathic moments. Vivi especially. Serious breaks from reality occur on a fairly regular basis.

I spoke too soon when I said that chickens are not Things Great Danes Eat. Chickens are, in fact, Things Great Danes Try To Eat When Humans Are Not Looking. Both Ivy and Milo have tried to set their jowls on tiny fowl, but have instead wound up with mere feathers a-flying. Danes are no longer allowed in the garage.

Bird in Bowl (Polly), Still Life (or, Terrified to Move)

Although it's hard to tell, that red bowl above is a very big bowl. Bigger than half a basketball for sure. Polly is a big girl. It looks like she is pigeon-toed, but in fact, her feet are pointing directly forward and those are just lots of feathers coming off of her feet. She is a bit camera shy, so this is the best I could do.

On Sunday, friend Valynne helped me install the floor. Isn't it beautiful? We were pretty proud of ourselves. We high-fived.

Award-winning Floor

Valynne

Mike is still my hero. He even used decorative hinges on the human and chicken doors (that he made totally from scrap lumber!). The doors fit perfectly and the entire coop is looking beautiful. I am going to paint the inside a lemony yellow, and the outside will be some sort of pleasing green.

Mike and the door. It has a handle!

Oh Really? This Was a Structural Support?

former fence post