Here they are in their new digs, which were cobbled together in a hurry when their deluxe indoor accommodations started to stink beyond what I could tolerate. Now they live in the garage inside an old dog crate that has been wrapped in cardboard (including their old box, so they shouldn't feel too uprooted) and tootsed up with some perches that we made from scrap lumber and an old cucumber trellis.
You can see from the picture that we are, unfortunately, down to five chicks. When last we discussed chickens, we were concerned that one of our chicks did not seem to be growing at all. Poor Tiny peeped and squirmed for most of that first weekend while we tried to get her to drink and eat, but in the end there was nothing we could do.
In the mean time, the remaining chickens are suitably ridiculous, which is why we love them.
They are on their way to becoming handsome birds, but for now they look a bit like vultures since their necks and heads have not yet feathered out.
See what I mean?
Lest you fear that I will let you escape without your dose of knitting, here is a little lovey that I made to send out with last month's baby cardigan. This is not for the baby, however; it is for the new big sister so that she doesn't have to feel entirely left out of all the gift-showering that tends to accompany new babies.
And last, for your viewing pleasure, some natural works of art.
The first one is how, after an extremely stormy night, we started the first morning in November. We were actually treated to three rainbows, all in the same morning, but I was driving when we spotted the other two and picture taking seemed contraindicated.
This last picture falls into the category of unintended art:
Does anyone else see the face of Bambi-- or maybe Brother Fox-- in this paint-by-numbers-ish chunk of bark? I came across it on my walk last week. Tempted as I was to bring it home and hang it by the coop to see if it would freak out the chickens, I thought it might be better to leave it for others to enjoy, which I hope they did.
