Meanwhile, Back in the Barn

We did borrow a ram last December, so we are hoping some (if not all) of our sheep are pregnant, but how do you tell? Is that fluff, or little lambs inside? Only time will tell! 

The one on the left is called "Little Lamb." This is what happens when
you let a four year old name your animals. Now, if Little Lamb
has babies, what do we call them? Little Lamb's Little Lamb?

The guinea hen came to live with us last summer. That's right. Our farm is so nice, other people's animals defect, and come to live with us! She's a bit of an emotional nightmare in winter, though. I don't think she bargained on being cooped up for the winter. I keep the door shut when it's below freezing out, so they can stay warm. I did open it a while back, just to let her go, if she wanted to, but she came back in at night. So, I guess she's happy, sort of? I couldn't get a good picture, because she was running around, throwing one of her fits. Just not a winter person, I guess. You can see all of the chickens cowering in the corner, staying out of her way. 

And this is my current favorite chicken: 

Nesting in our shredded junk mail. 

Mr. and Mrs. Turkey are spending the winter perched up by the sunny window, chillaxin'. In the summer, they make a terrible racket and terrorize any child who dares come near them, but in the winter, they are quiet and mellow. They save their drama for other seasons. They seem grateful to be fed, this time of year. Of course, we see hundreds of their wild cousins, roaming around, looking for food, so I suppose they have it good. So what if we eat their babies? 

That's the infamous Tom Turkey on the right, attacker of trucks.
But if you compliment him, he leaves you alone. This seems like
it cannot be true, but it is. Little Z figured it out. She told me,
"Just tell him what nice feathers he has, and he'll stop gobbling
at you." Sure enough, it worked. Everyone just needs a kind word,
now and then. So now whenever he gets upset,
"What a good turkey you are, such pretty feathers."
"Hmph," says Tom, and stands proud and quiet.

And, last of all, the bunnies. We didn't really know how the bunnies would fare in the barn, since they were house pets, but they just grew thick coats and burrowed into the wood shavings. They seem quite content. Also, I figured out they like orange peelings. Since I eat about two oranges a day all winter, this is a good thing.

Marshmallow eats her orange peels. 

Coming soon (I hope): baby chicks. Due to hatch this Sunday.