I am not in the habit of raking in the fall. I'm usually too tired, and leave it for the Spring when the idea of moving rocks, clearing land and hurting myself seems romantic. So much hope for a garden that always disappoints me by August; so much time and money spent imagining a beautiful yard that I can get a rotator cuff injury patting myself on the back for. Last Spring was the same. Then I got chickens.
Chickens are destructive.
I had a little white stone feature with a statue. I had collected the stones from beaches for decades. I had shells gleaned from shores all over New England and a nice generic statue of Mary all arranged amid the glacial erratics whose tips poke out of the earth in my front yard.
Now I'm finding shells and little pearly stones as far away as 50 feet from where I left them.
Chickens can't leave anything alone.
The real reason the timer doesn't work is that they get at it with their beaks and reset everything.
Sometimes, they disconnect it and hide it under the woodpile.
They don't get that it's there for their convenience, and if they could get that, they wouldn't care.
Chickens like to have things that they have moved left where they left them.
They are like me in this.
It's an impulse I'm in sympathy with.
However, I'm buying the food around here, and so I think I have some rights.
We have been having an Autumn that is so much like Spring, daylilies are sprouting and some things have decided to bloom again. The gooey front walk, combined mud, chicken droppings and uneaten lettuce is probably not very good Feng Shui, so I was out in the lovely 60 degree weather raking it again.
I had given up raking as a bad job because Buck would just come around with his brigade of females and get to work kicking all the leaves back on to the walk.
I reported this in a previous post - he is still determined to have the front yard evenly carpeted with leaves.
Today I raked and swept the walk 3 times, the third time, taking the leaves far, far away.
Chickens are destructive.
I had a little white stone feature with a statue. I had collected the stones from beaches for decades. I had shells gleaned from shores all over New England and a nice generic statue of Mary all arranged amid the glacial erratics whose tips poke out of the earth in my front yard.
Now I'm finding shells and little pearly stones as far away as 50 feet from where I left them.
Chickens can't leave anything alone.
The real reason the timer doesn't work is that they get at it with their beaks and reset everything.
Sometimes, they disconnect it and hide it under the woodpile.
They don't get that it's there for their convenience, and if they could get that, they wouldn't care.
Chickens like to have things that they have moved left where they left them.
They are like me in this.
It's an impulse I'm in sympathy with.
However, I'm buying the food around here, and so I think I have some rights.
We have been having an Autumn that is so much like Spring, daylilies are sprouting and some things have decided to bloom again. The gooey front walk, combined mud, chicken droppings and uneaten lettuce is probably not very good Feng Shui, so I was out in the lovely 60 degree weather raking it again.
I had given up raking as a bad job because Buck would just come around with his brigade of females and get to work kicking all the leaves back on to the walk.
I reported this in a previous post - he is still determined to have the front yard evenly carpeted with leaves.
Today I raked and swept the walk 3 times, the third time, taking the leaves far, far away.
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Glad to hear from you, but criticisms will be ignored. It's the beauty of the web. I will answer all friendly remarks. Buck handles the rest.