Morning chores

There's something special and fulfilling about doing chores. I fed the animals this morning, as Kev is off watching turkey and Andy didn't have school. Andy usually does the morning chores, as he is quicker about getting ready for school than his mother. I often do chores on the weekend, and share in the evening chores. I find I'm rather picky in how my young chicks are cared for, and just feel better when doing it myself.

But, this morning, I did all the chores. I got up earlier than normal, let the dogs out, then got myself ready for the day.

The first critters who get fed are the pesky cats. The outside cats. They have an instinctive knowledge of when you will exit the house, and all gather for breakfast. They all gather at the door and send a chorus of "meows" that isn't quite melodic or soothing. As I step outside the door, they twine their supple bodies around my feet, practically tripping me. That is probably their true intent--to trip me, causing me to spill their food, and in doing so, fill their hungry bellies. I perform my Pied Piper impression, shaking the feed can, enticing them all to follow me to the shop where I disperse their meal. While walking towards the shop, they continue twining themselves around my feet. It's a constant obstacle course.

Once the cats are cared for, it's off to the goats. Winter is a true Nubian. She is loud and can be annoying as she announces her hunger. Grabbing her grain, I quickly enter the pen. She rubs against me, encouraging me to hurry up and deposit her meal into the trough. She weighs around 130 lbs, and it's not necessarily easy to get around her to the trough. Once accomplished, I have another goat who now demands my attention by butting my legs. Miss Monkey quickly grabs her bottle and finishes it rapidly, while her siblings sniff me, nibble on my clothes, check out the bottle, etc. Then they decide to investigate what Mom is eating and maybe sneak in a drink while she's distracted.

The pigs are next on the list. Walking toward their pen, I scare up a pheasant who takes off to the west. No sign of the pigs as I enter the pen. They are snuggled up together inside the shed, sleeping in late this morning. But once they hear my voice, they come to investigate. No need to feed them, as they have a self feeder. I just check feed levels and water then exit the pen. Of course while checking, the pigs bless me by pressing their noses against my pant legs. Four pigs, pressing around one human. It's a very similar feeling to that of walking amidst the cats.

The only remaining animals are the chickens. Upon opening the door to the coop, I'm greeted by the 5 adult critters who dash into the clear morning sun. The chicks are cheeping in their brooder. It always surprises me to witness their panic every time I remove the "lid" on the brooder. I do it twice a day. In my mind, they should expect it. After all, I bring fresh water and food which they attack with ravish attention. I note that they are outgrowing their home and wonder when I can introduce them to the adult population. Today, I turn off the heat lamp for the first time. The temperature is forecasted to be 88. They are big enough, that a day without the heat lamp will do them good. And, soon, they will have to learn how to deal with the dark. As I leave the coop, I toss the adults some grain and take a few indulgent seconds to watch them scratch.

On the way back to the house, I take time to look around. The grass is greening up, weeds are popping out of the ground. The dew is heavy on the grass. There's wisps of fog sliding down the valleys of our gentle hills. The lilacs are budding. It looks, smells and sounds like spring. It's peaceful. It's beautiful. It's home.