Monday - Day 63 - Chickens and Humans and Baby Birds

I slept well last night again.  I'm hopeful this is such a good streak that I don't feel the need to mention it again.

I'm tired of the simple countdown titles.  I'm going to try others for a while and see if creativity holds.

I called the feed store this morning to order curbside pick-up.  I also had a chance to talk about the Americauna strike.  The general consensus is that there's nothing I can feed them to encourage them to lay if they are scared.  Some hens are more scared than others and they are likely being hassled by wildlife.  This was confirmed when I mentioned the bobcat in the area.  I'm considering what to do to make them feel more comfortable and make sure nothing is roaming around the coop.  I'll try setting up the camera again once weather dries out.  I am considering moving the coop closer to the house.  That could be a challenge.  Right now it's near the house, but the far side abuts a wild area full of blackberry bushes where the bobcat is probably hanging out.

The drive to and from the feed store was uneventful.  I was glad to see less traffic still, though the roundabout in Healdsburg was surprisingly busy.  I also stopped by Joann's to pick up an order of thread.  I grabbed a cold beverage from Starbucks drive-through on the way home, using my mobile app to place the order.  Apparently I can now use Siri to do that for me.

I made pretzels today.  Because Bex and I love them.  And because I cannot face a cracker failure - or potential failure - yet.  I wanted a smashing delicious success, and that's pretzels.  With mustard.

Mandi sent me a photo of her salsa in the food processor.  I love it when the kids share food that they made from recipes I shared with them.  It's an invisible thread between us that contains joy now and in the future and memory all at the same time.  And it warmed my heart earlier this week when she sent me a photo of her sliced apples and peanut butter and told me it reminds her of me.  My favorite snack.  And sometimes breakfast these days.

I miss my kids.  And I love them so much.  And I am so proud of them.  I'm listening to the podcast, Everything Happens For a Reason and this afternoon finished Kate Bowler's (yes, isn't that awesome, just a single letter off in her last name, pronounced the same) interview of Alan Alda.  Alan Alda.  And his interview of her at the end.  And I said out loud, "What a beautiful human being you are, Mr. Alda."  And I reflected on how I want to see more human beings like Alan Alda and Kate Bowler and the incredible, loving, wise, empathetic, and funny humans she interviews who are struggling and reaching and finding some answers and sharing them with love and laughter.  And then I realized that I have grown three of those.  And the ripple reaches out and out because Angelo is so wise and loving and funny already.  And I hope and pray it spreads fast and far and wide because we need wisdom and empathy and humans trying with laughter and love.  We need it so much.

I think the little nest in the shed has been abandoned.  After I found the one egg on the ground, scooped it up and put it back into the nest as quickly as possible, Mama Bird continued to shoot out of the shed when I opened the back door.  Then when I saw the five had dwindled to three and I heard something moving in the shed, I was so mad and so protective, I grabbed the bottle of coyote pee and applied it around the outside to keep predators away from the eggs.

But what if I scared Mama Bird too?  I think it was around that time that I stopped seeing her fly out of the shed.  I wrote it off as timing.  I checked the nest every other day.  Then I realized that the eggs hadn't been moved.  Typically, they should have shifted position from time to time if Mama was on them.

I wish I had recognized what could have happened with my intervention.  If I caused it.  I don't know.

I knew when I found the nest that the odds of a happy ending weren't good.  But I always hope.  I always do.  I'm really sad that I might have messed this up on my own.

Howl was another duo.  We take turns howling so we can listen for others.  I wish we had a whole bunch of us who could howl all at the same time.  I still enjoy the evening walk out.  I took the opportunity to fill the goats' water buckets tonight instead of in the morning.

We are well.  I hope you are too.