Peacock on the Chimney, Eggs in the Carport

Such is my life.

Let me state for the record that the peacock is not ours. Or, apparently, our neighbors'. We have no idea where this bird came from. Last Monday evening, I was helping my husband change the oil in his truck (It's a whole new world under there!). When l came back up to pour oil topside, I glanced over to the backyard and had to register a double-take. "There...is a...PEAcock in our backyard!" Given that I had never seen one outside a zoo before, and given that they aren't exactly native to Oklahoma, this was a bit of a shock, to be sure. He had a beautiful tail which trailed behind him as he moved from place to place. I was rather surprised to find that he could even fly a little with that long thing weighing him down! Anyway, we assumed it was a neighbor's bird who just got a little confused. We enjoyed watching it while it strutted around the yard, and thought it would return to its home before sunset.

It had other ideas. It roosted in the large sycamore in our front yard the first night and on our roof the second night. Peacocks are loud. Very loud. Late at night, too. Their call sounds something like a musical crow caw followed by a monkey call. They also make this weird high-pitched imitation of a semi horn on occasion. The next night, he sauntered over to the neighbor's field, but apparently decided that he preferred our lifestyle and has slept on our chimney ever since. The good news about this situation is that we now have a guard peacock. Every time we return home, he calls out. Whenever we move around the yard, he calls out. Whenever a possum sneezes, the bird calls out. Who needs a dog?

The funny thing is that he has decided he needs a mate. Well, you know how peacocks try to attract a female, right? First, he noticed that we have other large birds on the property; next thing we knew his long tail feathers were up from the ground making an eight foot wide semicircle, and he was shaking his wingfeathers like crazy. The hens were singularly unimpressed. For that matter, so were the teenage roosters--particularly the rooster to whom Mr. Peacock was really turning up the charm. I tried to tell him that this relationship wouldn't work, but in this case the term "birdbrain" comes to mind.

So Mr. Peacock appears to have adopted us for the long term. Name ideas? Montmorency? Throckmorton? Thurston Howell IV?

My chickens have enough issues without having to deal with a peacock displaying to them. My husband spent an evening several months ago building the laying hens a nesting box for their laying pleasure. Well, my girls used it for several weeks, but then the Americaunas started laying and things began to get a little crowded. I left a cardboard box to "air out" in the carport one day after its use as an indoor duckling habitat had come to an end, and a couple of hens started appropriating it as their personal spot. They were apparently the cool hens, because it took less than a week for the rest of the flock to follow. For the last several months, the nicely-constructed nest box has had little to no usage, while an old box in the carport is THE place to be. Figures.

Life on the farm. It doesn't always make sense, but at least it is never boring.

While the Husband's Away, the Mice Will Play...

Yesterday was a difficult day, for many reasons. First my husband has been out of town all week on a business trip. I can safely say that now because he'll be home this afternoon. As a result, I've been the total keeper of the farm. Now, this really doesn't make a whole lot of difference as far as the animals are concerned, because I'm the main feeder/water/cleaner of the chickens and ducks as it is, and I've gone out to feed the cattle before as well. But now there's the garden to consider. And then whatever goes wrong is up to me to fix. And things that go "bump" in the night all the sudden get louder and need special attention paid to them. Why are there so many more of those sounds when my husband is gone?

So I was already missing my husband like crazy yesterday, got some hard news in the afternoon, and then went home to find a dead steer in the field. Now, we knew he was feeling under the weather, but my father-in-law was going to come down from the Tulsa area this weekend and help us administer some treatment. It was under control, so we thought. Apparently not. So all the sudden I had a dead steer calf on my hands, 1 1/2 hours left of daylight, and definitely not enough energy or ability to dig a hole to bury it or drag it anywhere. I ended up calling Husband, Father-in-law, and Dad (who lives nearby) to get advice, along with going on a phone hunt for anyone who could take the carcass away. Seriously, why doesn't the yellow pages have a "carcass removal" section in bold and highlighted?!? :) We ended up using my dad's truck to remove the animal to another part of the field and then covered it with a tarp. This got done at about 11 last night.

I have trouble relaxing enough to go to sleep when Husband is gone, so I ended up going into a semi-coma on the couch sometime after midnight. I woke up to move into the bedroom at about 3, and heard a distinct bang/scratch sound that sounded like it came from the side door area outside. This of course freaked me out and sent me running for the firearm I always have available for protection. I am an Okie who believes in Second Amendment rights, by the way. Actually, that's almost redundant. But I digress. I heard the noise again, but it was hard to tell which direction it was coming from. So I did what any girl spending the night alone and hearing a possible intruder would do: I called my mom. I don't know what I thought she could do, but it sure helped to know that someone else was "with" me in this. I turned on all the outside lights and turned off all the inside lights (easier to see out), but saw nothing. Eventually, my nerves settled down and we determined that it was probably just a large junebug or something similar hitting the storm door near the porch light. By this point I had lost an hour or so of precious sleep. So I woke up forty minutes after my alarm this morning (Oops) and went in the kitchen to find...a chewed up part of a banana. I investigated further to find a piece of partially-chewed taffy that had been left on the counter and little poop bits everywhere. Oh, yeah, we have mice in the kitchen. I'm going to WallyWorld today to buy approximately 30 mousetraps. OK, fewer than that, but these rodents are going down!

It does kind of make me grin that I was stealthily looking around the house in the dark last night with a loaded gun all because of a mouse, though. :)

So, some things we've learned in the past year or so of starting our little farm:
-Ducklings make a huge mess; ducks make a bigger one.
-I'm never keeping 19 chicks in a box in the den for 4 weeks again.
-Always buy more than you think you'll need when working on projects. Special emphasis on pipe and fencing in this.
-My favorite farm equipment is a pair of rubber boots. This is closely followed by the wheelbarrow.
-It takes a while to paint 24 cabinet doors. One of these days these will be done.
-Snakes an inch and a half in diameter can eat two chicks four inches across...easily. He does, however, go into hibernation afterwards, making it very easy to get rid of him.
-A family of a few mice allowed to spend the winter in the spare section of the coop will exponentially increase in numbers to a family of roughly 3,205 mice. They also might be smart or quick enough to set off traps without getting caught in them.
-Fence around the new fruit trees BEFORE a buck rubs his antlers on them.
-Never spontaneously butcher an unrepentant incessantly-crowing rooster in your favorite jeans.
-Having a mom living nearby is a huge help. Especially when she has experience in home repairs and loves the animals. This is even better when she can be drafted to take care of the animals in exchange for eggs. :)
-A possum can be capable of tiptoeing his way through a virtual minefield of traps and eating the bait meat. All of this is without actually setting off a trap. Although, he actually is capable of this as well; he just isn't necessarily in it at the time.
-One can never have too many egg recipes.
-A coon (That's RACcoon for the Yankees out there) is not necessarily phased one bit by a flashlight in the eyes or a rubber boot banging on the side of the coop.
-Ducks can potentially be herded into their coop. Chicken herding is impossible. Very, very impossible. They also cannot be bribed.

Let's See How This Thing Works...

I have often thought about starting a blog about my husband's and my adventures, such as they are. If for no other reason, my in-laws enjoy hearing the tales of the farm, and I'd like to think that some of my friends might too. Maybe. Anybody there?

Myself in a nutshell: Conservative Christian. Happily married. Analyzing. Stubborn. Scientist. Opinionated. Half-city, half-country. Grammar nerd. Nature admirer. Reader. Eclectic tastes.

Likes: My husband, of course! My home, my family, science (microorganisms to outer space), reading, the farm, the chickens, chocolate, bright colors, cooking, the feeling of a done project, the South and its history, college football, and a great many other things...

I was born and raised Southern, mostly in Oklahoma. My husband and I have been married over 2 1/2 years; I have spent most of that time realizing even more how imperfect I am and how patient my husband is. We bought our little farm last year and have been fixing up our house and readying our land for our homestead project. We have a good-sized garden going right now, along with 7 laying hens, 19 teenage chickens, 2 ducks, 1 steer and 1 heifer. And a partridge in a pear tree. My husband is an engineer, which is quite handy around a fixer-upper farm, let me tell you! I am a "professional scientist" (aka research tech) at a nearby lab for another few months, but then I get to be a stay-at-home wife! I am greatly looking forward to this. I enjoy reading and writing, although I do far more of the former than the latter.

So far I have learned a great many things about what to do and what not to do when starting a farm...but that's another post.