Above: two hens do what chickens do.
Below: One good dog. Max doesn't miss a thing.
Guineas in the morning.
Guineas. Can anyone say dodos from Ice Age?
Funny story. The laying hens are a year old. We butchered the roosters last year, who harried them constantly, and have had peace in the chicken house ever since. The roosters this year typically stayed well away from the layers. Until, one morning, Dad opens the coop door in the morning and out strolls a Buff Orphington rooster with the hens. Dad scratches his head under his hat and says, "Well, girls!" Apparently our girls decided Little Jason, as we dubbed the rooster in homage to the tv comedy series Seinfeld, wasn't such a bad guy after all. And hey, he's as good looking as my Jason ;-)
Little Jason and some of his harem.
The Matriarch.
New steps for an old grainry door.
A sustainable-ish hen in the dormant garden. (Asparagus is on the right.)
Two very pregnant (and super-late calving!) cows
Ye Ol Scratching Spot.
The chickens love to dust themselves here and catch the warm afternoon rays.
The Herd
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