The light was all wrong for my current camera settings but I didn't want to take the time to change anything because then I really would have lost whatever light was left. When you look at this picture I want you to imagine that this uptight, starch glands in the back of his neck, hair has never been out of place in his life, worked in a filling station for five years filling tanks and changing oil and other filling station related things and never once had dirt under his nails... I want you to imagine that what is coming out of this man's mouth resembles chicken sounds so closely I had to actually look at him to be sure he was speaking. This is my husband, he is cooing at his ladies. And make no mistake, these birds are his. He tucks them in at night, he cleans out the coop and pen and he hangs onto their baby eggs as if they were teeth right out of the mouths of his own children. Peeps, I present to you NoMans at home with his girls:
Apparently none of them stayed in the pen today. I'm perfectly all right with that as long as they all come home again in one piece. By the time we got home, at about 7:20 this evening, all but one were back in the pen. Here is the one holdout who may or may not be Frankie trying to get blood from a stone (bugs?):
There are no chickens in this hollow at the moment but this is where at least one of them likes to spend her days. This is the hollow that was created from what was a small hill after the 12 cubic yards of dirt were dumped and then carted out to the garden. Before I was aware of having a soil issue I planted a mess of perennials and then scattered the nasturtium, morning glory and cosmos about at will. What I got, while disturbing in some ways, is rather beautiful and I can understand why a chickin might like to hang out in this damp and sheltered hollow eating up the excess bugs (oh please, please, please be eating grubs and Japanese beetles and you can have some worms too). Here is Audrey's only baby. All those vines and just the one green sugar baby. If it doesn't rot on the vine
it'll make fine batch of pies.
And finally, here is my garden gate. Every year it gets like this for one reason or another but this year it is pole beans and Audrey and I open it carefully and slip through the gap into the green...