Snakes in the Chicken Hilton!

Mr. Pat shows Michael the proper way to hold a snake

I missed it this morning, but there was quite a ruckus.  A snake was discovered in the Chicken Hilton when Lori and the team showed up. 

Said snake was, ironically, snuggled up right against the cannister of snake repellent.

It was a medium-size snake (although it grew impressively in the telling). 

Lori sent for Mr. Pat, not a friend to snakes, and he showed Michael how to hold it. 

When I heard about all the excitement I hurried to the coops to see what was going on.  Michael was so excited he could hardly speak.



Michael bravely holds the perp

 "I did it, Judy!  I held the snake and it was still ALIVE!" he finally blurted out.

We don't know if it was an egg snake or a chicken snake, and couldn't figure out how it got inside, as it did seem far too large to get through the few warped areas where the nesting box doors were warped. 

In any case, nobody was missing, and the snake had no tell-tale lumps.

Just another adventurous day at Down Home Ranch.

Death Comes to the Chicken Hilton

Jerry holds hen just killed by hawk

It had to happen sooner or later.

I'd just walked out of the barn to go get my camera in the car, and saw a large hawk standing on the ground just the other side of one of the garden beds.  A blizzard of tiny feathers were streaming away from his feet, caught up on the brisk southern breeze.

Jerry was over by the Chicken Hilton.

"Hawk!" I yelled, and ran toward the predator, which quickly took to the air and settled on a nearby bush. 

The audacity of that bird!  I thought. 

He'd struck not 20 feet from where Jerry was working.

Not only that, he showed no signs of leaving his kill, either.  I finally ran after him and shooed him further away, but I know where he lives--over in Sara's Garden--and I know he'll soon be back.

I hoped against hope that maybe the large buff hen I saw lying on the ground was just stunned, but no such luck.  Hawks probably don't make mistakes like that too often.

I picked her up. She was so warm.  Her pretty head drooped loosely, the neck neatly snapped.  If only I'd come out of the barn 30 seconds before!

I walked over to the Hilton, put the hen on the back of Jerry's cart, and helped him coop up the rest of the chickens.  They were rattled and skittish, and it took a while to get them in.

Guess we'll have to have a chicken shepherd from now on when we let them out to roam.  A new job description to write!

It's a little death, I guess, but Jerry and I were talking just yesterday about how much sheer fun the chickens are, what joy they bring, and how much joy they seem to get from their simple little lives.

Not to mention the eggs.

Well, if He knows when the sparrows fall, He knows when the chickens fall, too.  He cares about the hawk no less, and in the end we shall all be delivered into a mightier hand.

Life is Complicated

Back in November Jerry and I promised Michael a date with Natalie for his birthday: a movie and dinner.  They wanted Kelly and Sterling to join them so off we went Tuesday afternoon and had a wonderful time.

Then driving back home in the dark Michael began imitating "the GPS lady" as we approached the Ranch.

Michael's an incredible mimic with superb comic timing and had us in stitches as we passed the Ranch.

The GPS lady became indignant: "You did NOT stop at your destination!  I TOLD you you were at your destination! You have PASSED your destination!  And what's that smell!?"

We dropped Sterling off and backtracked to the Ranch.  First we had to stop by the Chicken Hilton for Natalie to check the chicks, turn on the heat lamp and bar the doors. 

Then I made the rounds of the Village dropping off Kelly at Martha House, Michael at Barnabas, and Natalie at Teresa.

Then it was back to the barn to fix bottles for the Dude and close up his stall, since it was forecast to freeze.

Finally, back at Benedict House, Jerry was awake but already turned in, so I said goodnight and settled in to watch the "Good Wife" on TV and decompress a little from my busy day.

Twenty minutes in, the screen went black and a gigantic hissing sound began emanating from the set.  Not a good sign.  After fiddling with the controls I gave up and went to bed.

Next morning I was up at 5:30 AM to drive into Austin and meet the cable guy to hook up the new TV at the condo.  Which he did, and it worked fine. 

While he was here. 

Early Thursday when I discovered it would not turn on, I resolved to call the cable company later in the day.  My immediate plans included checking out furniture at Lack's for the new houses and buying breakfast items at Costco and then heading back to the Ranch.

Alas, the best laid plans...

I started the dishwasher going and as I put the detergent back under the sink I noticed water pooling on the the floor of the cabinet.  Further investigation revealed that the whole undersink plumbing assembly was on the verge of collapse.

I quickly turned off the dishwasher, sopped up the water, and called Fox, who promised to send someone over that afternoon.

It was only about 9:30, so I drove to Lack's.  Alas, as I entered the parking lot, the Granny Charger began to cough and sputter.  I went inside, took pictures and noted prices, then drove straight to a local car repair to see what was going on.  I left the car and walked back to the condo.

About 1:00 the plumber arrived and worked for a few hours redoing the whole installation under the sink.  Then the shop called.  They couldn't diagnose anything with the car and suggested I take it somewhere else.  I walked to the shop, got the car, and lurching and coughing made my way up Burnet to Gordon Automotive.  They couldn't promise to get to it today, so I called a friend and asked him to pick me up.

Since Gordon's isn't very visible from the road, I went next door to the Waterloo Ice House, where I was held hostage and forced to consume coffee and a piece of apple pie a la mode while waiting for Greg.

Greg arrived and brought me back to the condo.  Fortunately, it would be easy to live totally without a car in our condo neighborhood.  Everything one could ever conceivably need is within a one-mile radius of the Tiffany Condominiums: movies, grocery and department stores, parks, gyms, yoga parlors, craft shops, bus lines, candy stores, coffee shops, a gazillion eateries, and our church, St. Louis Catholic.

Jerry and I bought the condo a few years ago as we became increasingly reluctant to come into Austin in the evenings for concerts, church activities, or to visit family.  That drive back at 11:00 PM is no fun for the old folks.

It's a nice contrast to Ranch life, where our motto is: "If they don't have it at HEB, Wal-Mart, or the feed store, you probably don't need it.")
There was one surprise however when we bought the condo.  We expected a lot more noise--sirens and car noises and alarms and such.  After all, we're just off Mo-Pac and Anderson, with the train tracks a block away. 

But at the Ranch, the coyotes start choir practice at dusk and the donkeys and roosters fire up their serenade at dawn.   All we hear at the condo most of the time is the gentle trickle of Shoal Creek, if that.

Anyway, it's been a puzzling and frustrating couple of days this week, what with my infrastructure crumbling about me, but I don't suppose it has any greater significance than coincidence.  Everything will be fixed, we will be a little poorer, and our local commercial establishments will be a little better off.

And life will go on.

New Life at the Ranch!

New life at the Ranch!

Oh boy my mother hen complex came in handy today!

Got the call about 11:00 that our chicks had arrived at the Elgin post office and they were--ahem--ready to have them picked up.

I snagged Matt out of Ranch Camp with Denise's blessing.  Matt's our main Chicken Wrangler and has helped engineer this segment of Operation Independence.

Right now our little friends have a lot of growing to do, but we look forward to the day they will provide major assistance with grasshopper control and give us yummy eggs each morning.

Two of them have names.  Their names are Clara and Ray, because Heidi Clara and Gary Ray Holliday, parents of Rancher Christopher, bid on and won naming rights to the Founding Flock hen and rooster.  We don't, of course, yet know which ones are Clara and Ray, but they're in there.

Proud of our brood!

I have frittered away a good part of the day hanging out with the wee ones.  We have 40 chicks, several each of nine different breeds.  They are so incredibly dear and small and busy, runnning from wall to wall inside the Chicken Hilton. 

They're about two days old, and I don't think they'd eaten until they arrived, but the moment we let them out of the box a gigantic grasshopper leaped through the wire and they were after him immediately.  I guess they got him eventually because when I came back to check on them later there was no sign of the grasshopper.

Casey & Matt check the chicks

Already when I come into the enclosure and call "chick chickee chick chick"  they come running.  When I sit down on the pine bedding they gather around me.  They'll go exploring busily around and then just stop, wobble this way and that for a few seconds and then plop down and close their eyes.  This was a little alarming at first but then I realized they're just taking a quick nap.

When the Ranchers got off work at 3:00 they started coming by to see the new additions.  Alaina said she wanted to name all the boys Tim and all the girls Faith, which was fine I told her except for Clara and Ray.
Tomorrow the Garden Team will begin caring for them.

As you may can tell, I'm nuts about chickens and for me this is a very happy day.  Stay tuned to watch our flock grow and thrive!