Last, but not least, the grapevines! They are almost waist-high on the trellis now! I’m so excited!
P.S. I thought I should note that, I don’t know exactly what all of the plants in the garden are because they have been shared from friends, who may or may-not recall what exactly they are sharing 🙂
We have two older hens – one of which survived the fox massacre last Spring (she is about 5 years old now, and still laying!). Neither of the old hens are pictured here…
In this picture, however, is the rooster who was supposed to be a hen. Whoops. I guess if we are going to have a single rooster, a barred rock roo is pretty hip, though. I’ve heard they tend to be pretty aggressive… so, on “grazing” days, we’ll have to leave him cooped up. Literally, haha!
I mentioned I grow weeds, right? Yep. In and amongst the weeds are a few lavender plants, a few tomato plants, a few succulents of unknown origin (okay, so I DO know that one of them is a “hens and chicks”), and a cucumber plant. Oh, and a few varieties of basil.
I also planted some flowers this evening.
As you can see, however, the weeds have pretty much consumed everything except the garden boxes. Even those are a daily battle to the death. I hate thistles. I think I covered that already though, right?
Hedwig, our resident garden owl, is not so useful in scaring away weeds. Just sayin’…
In the background is a lovely sitting area… except that pesky chair with the bum leg. Oh, and the in-need-of-repair picnic table. My handy-dandy husband may have accidentally knocked off the leg while trying to move it out of the way of the lawn mower. Whoops.
The Coop is undergoing massive renovations. My husband is a pretty handy fellow. Originally, the coop was a playhouse that he and his father built for his children. It has since been repurposed, and we are adding an “upper” area with a window, and enough room to stand up.
Collecting eggs while crouched down inside the equivalent of a hobbit house with chicken poo is kinda gross. Just kinda…
Pogo: named because, as a few day old youngster, he’d randomly bounce about in a fit of excitement. Nowadays, I’m not sure if the lack of bouncing is due to his realization that he is a fainting goat, and too much excitement renders him immobile, or just that he’s too mature for such nonsense now.
Pogo (aka Mr. Social), and his shy mother, Pearl.