Good Morning Puff

On the one morning when I am able to sleep in, I get a 6am wake up call. From who you ask? Puff, my injured chicken who lives in a cage in the run. I do not want a noise complaint filed against us, so I go outside to see whats up. Puff, all up in hysterics is puffed up to twice her size standing on top of her water feeder yelping for dear life. I can't help but laugh, and suddenly I find myself not so upset that I'm up at 6am on a Saturday. I really love having chickens, even ones with gender confusion. Dear Puff, you are not a rooster, therefore you do not need to cluck at 6am.

While the cats away

So while Annie was at school today I went to a friends and learned how to kill, pluck and clean a chicken. I was a little nervous about the whole thing, but I figure if I eat chicken I should just as well deal with the fact that someone is killing it before I buy it at the store. So I put on my big girl panties and got to work. It wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Definitely not something I'd want to do alone, (mine almost got away). I had the dumb luck of missing on my first swing accidentally knocking the poor guy out with the butt of the hatchet (yeah, I really missed). I got him on the second swing though. Me holding the rooster getting ready to chop (not my best picture, but I dressed to kill chickens not go out on a date). His head is held between two nails hammered into the table.Richard ( with his wife Merryl behind him) carrying his out to the chopping block.
Sorry if some people are grossed out or possibly even offended by this post, but unless your vegan I don't think you have an argument. I thought it was very educational and I'm glad I went. I feel a little more prepared for Thanksgiving. I'm going to need a lot of help holding down Norton though. By then he should be huge. I'm not posting the more graphic pictures, but if you are ever interested in learning to prep a chicken from start to finish let me know. Merryl is more than happy to have the help, it's not much fun to do this kinda thing along.

Tail Feathers

This morning Annie and I went out to feed the Chickens and change their water. Surprisingly Norton, our male turkey, met us at the gate with full feathers. He doesn't normally walk around with his feathers out. I think it's because yesterday I chased him with a broom when I caught him attacking my chickens again. Annie was so excited she made me run inside for the camera. So here he is. Our male Turkey, Norton (short for Narragansett) showing off his feathers. He is rather handsome.

Our female turkey, Jane was named by Liz Forsythe because she is just that, a plain Jane. If you noticed Norton's missing one of his tail feathers, that's because Jane plucked it. She definitely wears the pants in their relationship.
Annie was in a fun mood this morning so I got a few pics of her being silly with her girls.She really loves her girls. Getting the eggs is her favorite part of the day. Not sure how she'll take it when the Turkeys move to their "New" house come November.
Annie took this one of me while I was opening up the water feeders. The other photos she took were a little hard to decipher.
Here's one of the fence and the trees.

Annie's Husband

Annie informed me as I was getting dinner on the table to "get another plate, momma, my new husband is coming to the party." I wasn't sure how to respond when she continued with, "her name is Carissa, and she is coming over to the party, and she is going get her own plate." I tried without success to explain that husbands are boys and wives are girls. That didn't get a good response. "My husband is A GIRL!"
I moved on and decided to ask other questions.
When did you meet your husband? "Oh a few weeks ago."
Where did you meet your husband? "Oh a few weeks ago."
How old is your husband? "She is not old, she is new."
What color is your husbands hair? "the color of her hair is sparkly golden like mine."
What do husbands do? "They play princess."
Are you Carissa's husband? "No, I am a big girl."

Annie's Booboo

Annie got a booboo earlier today when walking into Gigi's house.  While sitting on the couch she looks up and says:

"Mommy, a part is missing that goes to my ankle," pause while she thinks on how to describe said part.  "It's the color of my leg."

Pasta

Wow, I think we did too much yesterday. Here's photos of miss Annie Rolling out pasta last night before bed. Annie loved that we made yellow pasta, "it looks happy" (it was because we used our own eggs this time, the yolks are brighter in color than store bought eggs).

Tomato Picking!

So I hear going fruit picking is all the rage, and after our exhausting magic house visit, I thought Annie and I would do a little Fruit picking of our own. Only in our own back yard, because I have no idea where you go to pick someone else's fruit on a Saturday evening.
I gave Annie the go ahead to pick as many as she wanted. She filled a huge bowl full of all different types of tomatoes. She picked brandywine's, Roma's, Marzano's, and yellow pears. Tasting each type as she went. It was hilarious, she was like a kid in a candy store. The tomatoes have always been here, but I've never let her go wild and pick everything. I usually set the limit at a small cereal bowl size. When she'd filled her bowl and camped out on the porch I thought it would be good to wash the tomatoes, but Annie informed me that it was fine, stating, "my mouth is a sink," and with a smile pops another yellow pear in her mouth.

Filling her bowl.

The classic Annie half smile. Usually only seen when she's talked her way out of trouble and ends up getting her way. It's a very hidden little smile.

Pointing to her mouth, "it tickle my tongue mommy."

Realizing she gets the whole bowl to herself gets a big smile out of her.