Saturday, March 5, 2016

We All Love a Treat

A little ice hanging on.  This is the first time in 17 years little
Clara Creek did not freeze over.   
 Every morning that I do the chores I find myself thinking....why don't you come out and visit the hens and horses every morning.  Friday morning was one of those clean, clear, fresh smelling mornings.  A thin layer of snow had fallen overnight and it just added to the fresh beauty here in the valley.  All was quiet with the hens clucking from their coop and a lone Red Tail Hawk calling from it's perch near the edge of the woods.  He/she was either trying to scare up a breakfast or calling for a mate.  Every year since we have lived here a pair have nested and raised their young mid way up the hill behind the barn.  So far none have taken a hen, at least I don't think so.  I  blame a missing hen on coyote or fox.  Last week our oldest hen died, it was old age.  She had been looking her age for quite a while.

Nothing better than having Smokey and Gracie standing at the gate hoping for a treat.  This morning was their lucky day, a carrot.  They remind me of biting into a nice piece of chocolate the way they roll that carrot around in their mouth.  I also had a few old slices of bread for the hens.  Our animals are so use to getting a treat we feel guilty when we don't take them something.  The hens love their treats as much as the horses or even me.  I love my sweets, candy, cookies, pie and cake that is. 

The horses like their hay for the day put in the pasture.  If the wind is blowing, rain or a snowstorm we hay them in the barn.   I believe they actually pout when they can't eat in the wide open space of the field.  They will stand just outside their stalls and only after we leave for the house will they go inside to eat.  Friday, no wind, rain or snow, they were happy horses.  They should be, I say they live at the Barriot (barn+Marriot).  Once they eat their grain it is a race to see who gets what pile of hay.  Smokey is the boss and he gets first dibs on what pile is his.  He actually will eat for a few minutes and then chase Gracie away and start eating hers.  She will go to his and all is ok, it's the same every morning and night.  It takes about 45 minutes to grain, hay, water and take care of the hens.  Just enough time to clear my mind, feel refreshed and ready for the day.  I can't imagine living in a confined area where I could hear neighbors talking and smell their meals cooking.  We did for years but now it just wouldn't be right.


 
There are the girls waiting for their treat.  They will
soon be one year old and already have went above
and beyond the call of duty.  Eggs are plenty from
these Black Australorps.
 
 
Friday night fish tacos.  Fresh guacamole and homemade black bean
and corn salsa topped with chipotle sauce made last August.  A glass of
wine for me and a bottle of beer for the hub.  It's an easy fix and clean up!