Our five goslings are 2 weeks old today, and probably twice as big as when they arrived. To get to them you have to go perilously close to the adult geese who hiss and snap at you. The gray one bit me last week and left a big black and blue spot on my arm. He’s just doing what he’s supposed to do as the gander of my breeding pair. We all hope the white one is a female…
75 chicks arrived this morning, much to my surprise. The hatchery said they’d send a postcard so I’d know when to expect them. I didn’t get a postcard, just a call from the post office this morning to let me know the chicks were here! One hastily erected brooder and an afternoon of coop cleaning later and all 75 birds are happy, safe, and warm. Whew!
Then there’s the garden. And the patio fireplace I’m building. Dinner. But by far the most important and the most demanding of my time are my kids. They’re with me while I weed, while I cook, and while I chase the geese back into their pen. And they have projects of their own – Like flooding a hole in the ground where I dug out a rock so that they can float their boats in it and make a waterfall that flows all the way down through my garden. Ah, my busy boys.