Too Hot to Move

This morning, Brett and I were a bit late getting up.  I am exhausted by the end of the work week and I just couldn't wake up.  It was 7am by the time we got ourselves outside and started chores.  The sun was already up and beating down on the pastures while we mucked.  The air was very still and moist.  We were sweaty by the time we finished up at 8:00.  Our plan was to go to the farmers market and run other errands in the morning.  We would ride in the afternoon when their was a breeze.

Or not.  The afternoon temperature climbed past 90 and the breeze never came.  Brett stayed in the house where it was cool.  I refused to go inside.  I am stuck in an office all week and the last thing I wanted was to be inside.  So, I sat outside on the front porch, next to a citronella candle burning and smoking away the mosquitos, sweating.  We never did ride.

Our injured chicken has recovered although her neck feathers still look pretty mangy.

It's hard to get a picture of her; she is always on the move.

I decided to let the chickens out so they could scratch and peck at the ground, eat grass, and be too busy to pick on little Amelia or any of the other hens.

They started out hugging the chicken run for safety.

Then they discovered the cool dirt next to the stream bed and dug themselves in.

Lord Byron, our Blue Andalusian rooster, stood guard.  Isn't he gorgeous?