It was a gorgeous afternoon today. While my work day was scattered and fraught with angst, my afternoon was much more mellow and full of golden light. I didn't get to play outside very long--too many inside chores like laundry, washing dishes, and mopping up email messes--but I did get to commune with the chickens a bit. The girls are getting big and sassy, with that teenage "spread" that heralds soon-to-arrive eggs. No joy yet, but it is getting much more exciting to check the nest boxes daily. They don't seem to like my faux eggs and keep flinging them out in disgust. Who knew chickens would be so opinionated about wildly colorful, striped-and-spotted plastic easter eggs? I keep reminding them that to be rid of the horrible fake eggs, they need to start laying their own. I don't think they believe me.
The rabbits are happy and hoppy, with the babies surviving the current relative heat wave. They are almost big enough to be in a cage of their own. I think Little Mama is determined to wean them. Little does she know that this weekend, she and Bucky have a hot date...hee hee. I feel like a bunny pimp. I wonder if all farmers feel this way, just a little, when they go to breed an animal? I mean, seriously...sheep farmers dress their rams in S&M leather vests, dairy farmers stick their hands waaaaaaaaaay up there and then squirt these little syringes full of bull's delight, turkey farmers have to do obscene things to the breeding toms to get them to do their "thing". You'd think there would be a regulatory committee or something to manage all this wild kinky stuff occuring in the bucolic countryside. Oh wait, there is: The Ag Department. Man, their Christmas parties must be really fun.
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