Baby Noisemakers

Spring is long gone, yet we have some new babies on the farm, as of yesterday. We’ve had some guinea fowl eggs stuck underneath a broody hen (chicken) for what seems like months now (probably four weeks really)… so I decided to poke around underneath her and see if there was any activity. There was!

Guinea Hatch

As you may be able to see, I discovered a guinea chick peeping around underneath the hen. Broody Hen (that’s what we’ve taken to calling her) quickly got used to everybody poking around underneath her to get a look, and now doesn’t even peck at you as you root around under her warm blobby broody body. The chicks are up and about today, pecking at some mash and getting wee baby drinks of water.

Guinea Daylings

Guinea Daylings

So that’s what passes for excitement around here. Entertainment, really. I realize I may have spoken poorly of the guineas in the past, but they’ve really grown on me this summer. They eat a lot of ticks, and don’t eat the vegetables in the garden. They run much faster and more elegantly than the fat chickens, have some level of personality (mostly “stupid”), and roam far and wide on the property, often stopping traffic in the road and exploring the neighbor’s yards. Plus, they can actually fly a little bit, yet choose to stick around and roost in our half-dead apple tree. How sweet. So in summary, I’m happy we’re growing up two more, and I hope they make it and I probably wont even try to slaughter them and bring them back to Rochester in freezer bags.

In other news, we’re catching up with our weeding, sortof. It was a long day in the tomato patch today, and my grab, twist, and pull muscles are tired. I reserved enough strength to do the evening milking, and now I get a rest. I suspect tomorrow will involve some weeding of the melon beds. And the winter squash. And the corn. And the pumpkins. Blah. It is rather hot and humid here, and today I considered becoming one of those people who complains about the weather (a retiree?)… but, anything under ninety and I refuse to change out of my work pants and into shorts… so no bellyaching. There was a nice breeze today, but apparently not at ground level. The trees whooshed and swooshed, yet there was stillness down in the weeds. Hot days make me wear sunscreen. Obviously that’s stupid, as the quantity of solar radiation apparently has no bearing on my application, just warmth. I guess it correlates pretty well. I’m rather tanned, but still feel I could get pinky after a long day in the sun.

I’m babbling. It is time to shut in the chickens and chicks, and then head to bed. Much visitor preparation is needed tomorrow, along with weeding and laundry and on and on.