Feeding chickens, free-ranging turkeys, managing weeds, and being tired...
In the last few weeks, we've named the remaining turkeys: Effingham Sandwich, Christmas, and Thanksgiving. Effingham has become a little aggressive to everyone but me, so turkey chores rest solidly with me. I open the coop in the morning and round them up in the afternoon. Last night, in preparation for a brutal cold front (FINALLY), James and I moved the turkeys to the old guinea coop. Turkeys are not small animals, so James had quite a task to wrestle all three. Now they'll stay cooped for a week or two, to familiarize them with their new home, before we try letting them wander again.
The chickens are moving closer to their stationary winter homes. Egg production has dropped dramatically with the shorter days, and one flock has chosen this rather cold time to molt. It looks like Armageddon in their coop from the number of feathers.
James mowed down the weeds in the strawberry patches. I'm afraid many of the strawberries died over the summer, since I couldn't keep up with the weeding. Next year, God willing, we will mulch thoroughly, replant as needed, and manage better. The three big kids are big enough to weed, so next year that will be part of their morning chores.
A happy and blessed Thanksgiving to you, in case I forget to blog next week. Support your local farms and grow some of your own food!
Until next time, remember, this is not paradise. It's Purgatory Ranch.
In the last few weeks, we've named the remaining turkeys: Effingham Sandwich, Christmas, and Thanksgiving. Effingham has become a little aggressive to everyone but me, so turkey chores rest solidly with me. I open the coop in the morning and round them up in the afternoon. Last night, in preparation for a brutal cold front (FINALLY), James and I moved the turkeys to the old guinea coop. Turkeys are not small animals, so James had quite a task to wrestle all three. Now they'll stay cooped for a week or two, to familiarize them with their new home, before we try letting them wander again.
The chickens are moving closer to their stationary winter homes. Egg production has dropped dramatically with the shorter days, and one flock has chosen this rather cold time to molt. It looks like Armageddon in their coop from the number of feathers.
James mowed down the weeds in the strawberry patches. I'm afraid many of the strawberries died over the summer, since I couldn't keep up with the weeding. Next year, God willing, we will mulch thoroughly, replant as needed, and manage better. The three big kids are big enough to weed, so next year that will be part of their morning chores.
A happy and blessed Thanksgiving to you, in case I forget to blog next week. Support your local farms and grow some of your own food!
Until next time, remember, this is not paradise. It's Purgatory Ranch.
Effingham Sandwich, huh? I've had one of those.
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