Cricket Pate (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alittlehinky) wrote2021-03-22 04:16 pm
alittlehinky) wrote2021-03-22 04:16 pm
Spring chickens.
The dandelions are the first things to bloom in the early spring, followed by chickweed and henbit. Sometimes they'll start springing up through the last of the snow, but the thaw came a little early this year, so Cricket's yard is mostly soft ground and green. There are tiny vegetable plants in the windows of the room of his house that opens toward the sunrise. Too early yet to put them in the garden, but they're waiting, strengthening, getting ready.
Outside, little flowering quince shrubs flank the porch and parts of the walk, and they're in full bloom, dotted with coral-colored blossoms and the occasional early bee. This year, he wants to get some hives, only he'll have to keep them a safe distance from the chickens.
The delivery he was waiting for arrives at last, the truck moving carefully up the graveled drive. He's on forearm crutches today, but he has words of welcome for the driver, and a nice tip. Cricket doesn't slaughter his chickens, despite their food-related names. They're egg-laying pets, and fancy breeders, and he has ambitions to sell some as pets and show animals one of these days, but mostly he just likes them.
The coop, which was already pretty extravagant, has been expanded over the winter, and there's a sheltered chicken run all the way to the barn where the three cows he and Loki own live. So, there's more space now, and more space means more babies. The delivery driver places three crates carefully in the fenced yard around the coop, and Cricket thanks him, then sits on a stool in the sunlight and begins prying the nails out with a hammer. It's warm out, and the chicks look healthy, and it's time to welcome them to their new home.
Outside, little flowering quince shrubs flank the porch and parts of the walk, and they're in full bloom, dotted with coral-colored blossoms and the occasional early bee. This year, he wants to get some hives, only he'll have to keep them a safe distance from the chickens.
The delivery he was waiting for arrives at last, the truck moving carefully up the graveled drive. He's on forearm crutches today, but he has words of welcome for the driver, and a nice tip. Cricket doesn't slaughter his chickens, despite their food-related names. They're egg-laying pets, and fancy breeders, and he has ambitions to sell some as pets and show animals one of these days, but mostly he just likes them.
The coop, which was already pretty extravagant, has been expanded over the winter, and there's a sheltered chicken run all the way to the barn where the three cows he and Loki own live. So, there's more space now, and more space means more babies. The delivery driver places three crates carefully in the fenced yard around the coop, and Cricket thanks him, then sits on a stool in the sunlight and begins prying the nails out with a hammer. It's warm out, and the chicks look healthy, and it's time to welcome them to their new home.