I missed two days of work due to the storm this past week, so when my boss sent a text saying this weekend was available, I decided to accept the hours. In the meantime I found the backyard snow sculptures pretty impressive. Half of our snow accumulation blew away before the warm up even began.
Out by the door to the chicken coop and all along its outer edge was a drift of sculpted snow sharpened into pointed peaks along a narrow pathway between the drift and the coop. The bin of feed was all but buried, the hinged lid barely, but still accessible, between the pointed peaks and the wall of the chicken house. We could get the door open just enough to squeeze through to feed and water the peckers. (They were a little over zealous today and pecked my fingers...)
Today the melting snow, which had collected on the roof of the coop (which is underneath the barn roof), dripped water on my head as I unhooked the door and filled my container with feed. I was puzzled at first, but then I remembered the ferocious swirling blizzard and how it had even made it's way around the backside of the enclosure and lay in a thin blanket across the rear edge of the interior. The chickens have been inside for about a week's time. The one day I offered to let them out, they took one look at the snow and decided to stay in. I am struggling with their insistence on crossing the street to visit the neighbor's yard. I am less worried about their safety, than that of my neighbors. Mr. Rooster has quite the attitude and I really don't need him deciding to take out his aggression on any unsuspecting victim. It's been suggested that maybe I should try keeping him in when I let the hens out. Maybe I'll try it.
Things and places, people and faces
1 hour ago