Daisy at the Poultry Show

A hot six hours in the poultry barn.

Daisy showed a lot of birds. Was it seven?

Her Buff Orpingtons came in third.

Frederick Greets the Dawn

Frederick greeted the sun this morning

as I drank my tea.

During the Molt

Daisy's hens are molting. Let's call it a Chicken Crown.

Daisy Shows Her Chickens

4H continues to bless Daisy with opportunities to get out there and do new things. Like show her chickens in a poultry competition.

She entered a single hen, an Araucana pair, and a cheery trio of Barred Rock hens.

All of this was new to us, and I was so proud of this formerly painfully-shy child who's learned so much confidence.

Although, she confessed, her thumbnails are bitten just a little low tonight.

Next time she probably won't be so nervous.

Walking Towards Sister

It's harder than you'd think to get a picture of the two of them together, because when Frederick heads her way, the kitten scampers off. It's unrequited love.

A Brief Grey Hello

Just popping in to say, in Frederick's words, "Hello!" We're just back from Clara's graduation from college. Her graduation from college! Life will return to normal tomorrow.

Half-Grown Chicks

Daisy's Barred Rock chicks are growing fast--they've moved from just a box into the "chicken tractor" which is a wooden box attached to a little fenced-in coop. We move it to a fresh spot in the grass every day. For a random reason, the box is painted to look like it's made from bricks. Not my doing.

Because the Composer loves weather so much, we happened to have a wireless thermometer handy to stick in the box. It transmits the temps to a display in Daisy's room. On occasion the chick's box temperature will spike up to 90. The first two times this happened we rushed out to see what had gone wrong. Turns out it was just a chick sitting on the thermometer. I guess their bottoms run about ninety degrees.

Daisy's New Chicks

Daisy just got a batch of Barred Rock chicks through her 4H club. We've stowed them in the incubator, and will be tending to them twice a day until they're ready to move into a pen. Expect cuteness.

 

 

Frederick in the Sewing Room

Because you get a lot more done with a parrot on your knee.

Bill Forward

Frederick was looking very "bill-forward" this afternoon.

Frederick, Soft and Gray

Here's a greeting from Frederick, just because he's soft and gray. I'm so lucky to have him. This is what he looks like when he's keeping me company in the sewing room in the very early morning while we tidy up.

Frederick and the Hipster Sweater

Felix and his friends troll the thrift stores for large and ugly sweaters to study in. Lounge sweaters.

Felix brought this one home and then realized he had picked out the sweater equivalent of Frederick,

who was hip before you were even born.

Frederick's Shadow at Sunrise

Frederick Has a Bath

If only you could see Frederick have his bath. It happens exclusively during the vacuuming--I suspect he thinks the noise covers his bath sounds and keeps him safe.

 

Like the circus man who dives from a high platform into a tiny bucket, Frederick plunges down into the water cup from above.

To the extent he can, he throws water all over himself while keeping his feathers outstanding. He triples in size.

 Water gets all over the floor, and I hardly need to add, it's funny.

 

Frederick Ducks In

Keeping his keen eye on things.

Frederick Doesn't Make a Friend

For a moment there, Frederick thinks he has met a tiny Amazon parrot.


Nope, not really.

Paper and Pine Cone Birds

My mother gave me these life-sized bird decorations. I love the soft colors for the dining table, but I love even more that Frederick thinks they *might* be real and so says hello to them when he has the opportunity.

Frederick in His Cup

Sometimes, Frederick just spends a cozy half hour sitting in his grit cup.

The Side Eye

When Frederick looks at something potentially dangerous, he uses the Side Eye. Always employed for conversations with the Composer, and often for the camera, but not for me. Frederick always puts his head down for me, just in case I feel like offering him a tickle.

Better safe than sorry.

At the Veterinarian's Office

My mother is here for a few days for a little sewing festival--we designed a simple dress pattern for her to use again and again, and we're sewing up three dresses. She has had so many spine and hip problems since she last sewed for herself that she has literally lost three inches of torso height. That throws things off, but we're righting them in the pattern department.

Knowing that we would need a break from sewing, and that she shares my love for the Big Bird, I scheduled Frederick's wing-clipping trip to the vet for today.


He watches suspiciously from his travel caddy as we settle in to wait in the veterinarian's lobby. There is a loud (so loud) sound of large parrot.


It's this brilliant blue and gold macaw. I say "brilliant", referring only to his feather colors. He's a bit of a dim bulb.


Thinking that Bella is going to tickle his neck just because he puts his head down and looks at her winsomely. Not with that bill, fellow.


But this cat got it right. Clara got the message loud and clear.

Frederick's spirits were much depressed by the trim. In spite of much cooing and loving admiration and corn on the cob, he wasn't quite ready to forgive me until bedtime.