The Blustery Day.

The flock is really antsy to get out today, but the winds are ever so ‘blustery’. No, Owl’s tree hasn’t blown down, and there is no chance that our ‘piglet’ will blow away … but our hens would be blown hither and fore until they are ultimately plastered against Bob and Barbara’s fence unable to fend off the late autumn gusts.

The sparse lean time of late autumn also brings its more treacherous dangers as Mr. Hawk was back just yesterday. Got a closer look at him and he was … well … CLOSER! He took wing not a few feet above the chicken run yesterday and his wingspan was magnificent. I hold no ill will toward him as he needs to gather what he can before the winter snows begin to fly, but he will NOT ‘gather’ one of my own!

I know my poor hens are desperate to forage the yard, but with the winds high and the birds of prey low, this will not be.

In other news, the neighbor cat (who is still not my cat!) has not been seen. But if the dead mouse on my porch is any indication, he still intends to ply the object of his ardor (our ‘daughter’ Osha) with courtship gifts. Sorry, young man, but the gifts must go unreceived.

Lastly, speaking of our ‘piglet’ Ruby, now that heating season is upon us, she has retreated to the comfort of the baseboard.