Paris Muscovy:
2006/02/25
2006/02/20
Babysitting, by Nancy
My friend Nancy graciously volunteered to look after the family while I was out and about in exotic lands. Here is her report.
--
Greetings from the Alpine Lodge!
It's just another day in paradise, tho the temperature
has dropped to its usual 50F. Near midnight on
Thursday when I landed in San Jose it was 55F, and got
up to 70F the next three days. I'm in the hills west
of Palo Alto, with a view of the ocean off the back
porch, through a dip in the mountain ridge. The sun
sets directly over that bit of ocean, just because I'm
here. We're bordering Portola Redwoods State Park so
there are gorgeous tall trees everywhere, and not a
single sign of man from the house. Every window has a
breathtaking view.
The bird-sitting is wonderful, and so entertaining!
Who'da thunk. The guinea hens have a window which is
left open during the day so they can come and go.
They'll disappear for hours at a time, visiting the
neighbors above or the field below. They remind me of
Victorian ladies with their constant pick-pick,
chatter, big bustle skirts and their fluttering about.
They enjoy a few modest piles of millet in the
morning on the front porch. Some of the guineas have
names but I'll be damned if I can tell their colors
apart, much less which is which. There are 5 brown
guineas, 5 jumbo pearl, 6 lavender (well, maybe only 5
now), 5 royal purple, 1 buff, and 1 white. Some of
them have the most beautiful white spots, like a
ladies' expensive blouse. I have a lovely feather I'm
taking back to show my grandmother.
The gander, Pate, is a scream. He is the most
prominent and the friendliest. You can pick him up
and pet his brown mohawk. I've finally mastered
answering his call so he loves coming right up to me
and squawking loudly right in my ears. He's probably
trying to figure out with which end to mate, on a
strange bird such as myself. The geese, Foie and
Gras, are plain white and have been taking turns
braving a closer look with a staring blue eye.
There are 9 female Pekin ducks called The Michelles,
after their previous human. Sure makes greeting them
easy! They are all plain white, but I'm sure they can
tell each other apart. The two male Pekins are
Snowball and Jack. My friend Lissa came up to visit
for a bit yesterday, and was disappointed that
Snowball hadn't run right to her in a tearful reunion
after she'd been his first human and raised him from a
chick.
There are 6 male Rouens that look like Mallards, they
are beautiful ducks. One is called Frenchy, he is
missing his tailfeathers and has white eyebrows! He
says (pinch nose) "quaque". The others are unnamed
except for RF1, RF2 etc, which stands for Rouen Food
1, Rouen Food 2 etc.
And now my favorites- the Muscovies. Muscovies are
plain white with a red face. They appear to be more
docile, and sweeter, maybe even a little more
intelligent. ;) The first Muscovies they got were
Paris and Nicole, but Nicole turned out to be a dude
so now he's called Nic. Or, nic-or-doodle. Little
Sally is considerably smaller than the rest of all the
ducks, and she's my favorite. I always toss her a
shovelful of dirt since she's standing politely away
from the rabble when I'm digging for worms.
Unfortunately she and Paris are also everyone's
favorite conquest, so they both look rode hard and put
away wet. The back of their necks are bare and their
featherbones are dirty and sticking out from the
others' rude feet. At first I thought Nic-or-doodle
was sick, since he aspirates when he talks rather than
a loud quack. He's quiet, and slow-moving, has dorky
feathers that stick straight out from each side, and
wags his whole feathery hind-end just like a dog when
he's happy to see me. He waddles right up and says
hello.
There are a bunch of runners; slender ducks that stand
up nearly straight. White with some gray, white and
brown, dark brown, lovely black with some blue-violet.
The males have curly-q tails! They all love to crowd
around the shovel when I dig worms for them. It's my
rule that if someone is in the way of the shovel, they
get petted. The ends of my pink fingers poking around
the shovel have gotten a light clamp or two, as have
my trousers, shoelaces, and glasses. I'd been warned
that getting "goosed" is not just an farmyard myth!
All the ducks pause when a jet goes overhead, tilt
their heads and look up at the airplane with one eye.
It is hilarious. They also stand on one leg, slowly
and gracefully stretch the other leg up and behind
them, just like a ballerina. There is rampant
barnyard sex, although the cooler weather has put a
bit of a damper on things. My favorite activity is to
walk up to the coop, stand in front of the door for a
bit while they get really excited, then quickly throw
the door open and step aside. There is a deafening
roar and a mass stampede for the freedom of the
out-of-doors. I learned my lesson the first day when
I was nearly mowed down.
I'm gathering about 10 eggs per day. The first
morning I had a record-tying egg, 122g! As Chris
said, "poor girl!" There are three wading pools that
I empty and re-fill daily, plus a cornucopia pellet
feeder that never runs out, some chicken scratch, and
some whole wheat berries. Every evening at dusk the
guinea hens all gather around the coop, running in and
out until it's dark enough to stay inside for the
evening. Kiki, the oldest female guinea, is the last
one in. After that it's easy to herd all the ducks
inside and lock them in for the night.
Today I had some big excitement. I'd let the ducks
out early and had been checking on them periodically
since they'd settled quietly in the center of the
yard. I left a window open to listen for trouble.
Mid-morning I heard the guineas making a lot of noise
and look out just in time to see them all soaring from
the hill above into the barnyard. A beautiful sight!
I had been counting one guinea short for the last few
evenings, so I thought this would be an opportune time
to see if I can figure out which one is missing. No
sooner was I standing at the edge of the yard, all the
ducks napping in front of me, when right in front of
my eyes a coyote bounds out of the brush and pauses,
as if he couldn't believe his feasting eyes. He was
brown, the size of a medium dog with long legs, a big
head, and big ears. I thought surely he saw me, but
then he lunged forward towards the literally sitting
ducks in front of us. So I run forward too and he
immediately turns and heads back into the brush. I
run after him, throwing stuff, yelling and arms
flailing. I spotted him a few minutes later in the
brush on a nearby hill, trotting away. Wow, that was
close! And in broad daylight. Hope the coyote is
able to find some food somewhere, but not on my watch!
There's a mouse that lives right outside the front
door, I heard him chewing up a storm last night. I
have the chocolate carefully stored up high in case he
breaks through. I frequently see hawks circling
overhead. The wood stove is to die for. That kind of
heat is a dream come true. I'd propose if it didn't
already belong to Chris. I've locked myself out
twice, luckily they knew I was going to do this and
had prepared accordingly.
Until next time,
Nancy
--
Greetings from the Alpine Lodge!
It's just another day in paradise, tho the temperature
has dropped to its usual 50F. Near midnight on
Thursday when I landed in San Jose it was 55F, and got
up to 70F the next three days. I'm in the hills west
of Palo Alto, with a view of the ocean off the back
porch, through a dip in the mountain ridge. The sun
sets directly over that bit of ocean, just because I'm
here. We're bordering Portola Redwoods State Park so
there are gorgeous tall trees everywhere, and not a
single sign of man from the house. Every window has a
breathtaking view.
The bird-sitting is wonderful, and so entertaining!
Who'da thunk. The guinea hens have a window which is
left open during the day so they can come and go.
They'll disappear for hours at a time, visiting the
neighbors above or the field below. They remind me of
Victorian ladies with their constant pick-pick,
chatter, big bustle skirts and their fluttering about.
They enjoy a few modest piles of millet in the
morning on the front porch. Some of the guineas have
names but I'll be damned if I can tell their colors
apart, much less which is which. There are 5 brown
guineas, 5 jumbo pearl, 6 lavender (well, maybe only 5
now), 5 royal purple, 1 buff, and 1 white. Some of
them have the most beautiful white spots, like a
ladies' expensive blouse. I have a lovely feather I'm
taking back to show my grandmother.
The gander, Pate, is a scream. He is the most
prominent and the friendliest. You can pick him up
and pet his brown mohawk. I've finally mastered
answering his call so he loves coming right up to me
and squawking loudly right in my ears. He's probably
trying to figure out with which end to mate, on a
strange bird such as myself. The geese, Foie and
Gras, are plain white and have been taking turns
braving a closer look with a staring blue eye.
There are 9 female Pekin ducks called The Michelles,
after their previous human. Sure makes greeting them
easy! They are all plain white, but I'm sure they can
tell each other apart. The two male Pekins are
Snowball and Jack. My friend Lissa came up to visit
for a bit yesterday, and was disappointed that
Snowball hadn't run right to her in a tearful reunion
after she'd been his first human and raised him from a
chick.
There are 6 male Rouens that look like Mallards, they
are beautiful ducks. One is called Frenchy, he is
missing his tailfeathers and has white eyebrows! He
says (pinch nose) "quaque". The others are unnamed
except for RF1, RF2 etc, which stands for Rouen Food
1, Rouen Food 2 etc.
And now my favorites- the Muscovies. Muscovies are
plain white with a red face. They appear to be more
docile, and sweeter, maybe even a little more
intelligent. ;) The first Muscovies they got were
Paris and Nicole, but Nicole turned out to be a dude
so now he's called Nic. Or, nic-or-doodle. Little
Sally is considerably smaller than the rest of all the
ducks, and she's my favorite. I always toss her a
shovelful of dirt since she's standing politely away
from the rabble when I'm digging for worms.
Unfortunately she and Paris are also everyone's
favorite conquest, so they both look rode hard and put
away wet. The back of their necks are bare and their
featherbones are dirty and sticking out from the
others' rude feet. At first I thought Nic-or-doodle
was sick, since he aspirates when he talks rather than
a loud quack. He's quiet, and slow-moving, has dorky
feathers that stick straight out from each side, and
wags his whole feathery hind-end just like a dog when
he's happy to see me. He waddles right up and says
hello.
There are a bunch of runners; slender ducks that stand
up nearly straight. White with some gray, white and
brown, dark brown, lovely black with some blue-violet.
The males have curly-q tails! They all love to crowd
around the shovel when I dig worms for them. It's my
rule that if someone is in the way of the shovel, they
get petted. The ends of my pink fingers poking around
the shovel have gotten a light clamp or two, as have
my trousers, shoelaces, and glasses. I'd been warned
that getting "goosed" is not just an farmyard myth!
All the ducks pause when a jet goes overhead, tilt
their heads and look up at the airplane with one eye.
It is hilarious. They also stand on one leg, slowly
and gracefully stretch the other leg up and behind
them, just like a ballerina. There is rampant
barnyard sex, although the cooler weather has put a
bit of a damper on things. My favorite activity is to
walk up to the coop, stand in front of the door for a
bit while they get really excited, then quickly throw
the door open and step aside. There is a deafening
roar and a mass stampede for the freedom of the
out-of-doors. I learned my lesson the first day when
I was nearly mowed down.
I'm gathering about 10 eggs per day. The first
morning I had a record-tying egg, 122g! As Chris
said, "poor girl!" There are three wading pools that
I empty and re-fill daily, plus a cornucopia pellet
feeder that never runs out, some chicken scratch, and
some whole wheat berries. Every evening at dusk the
guinea hens all gather around the coop, running in and
out until it's dark enough to stay inside for the
evening. Kiki, the oldest female guinea, is the last
one in. After that it's easy to herd all the ducks
inside and lock them in for the night.
Today I had some big excitement. I'd let the ducks
out early and had been checking on them periodically
since they'd settled quietly in the center of the
yard. I left a window open to listen for trouble.
Mid-morning I heard the guineas making a lot of noise
and look out just in time to see them all soaring from
the hill above into the barnyard. A beautiful sight!
I had been counting one guinea short for the last few
evenings, so I thought this would be an opportune time
to see if I can figure out which one is missing. No
sooner was I standing at the edge of the yard, all the
ducks napping in front of me, when right in front of
my eyes a coyote bounds out of the brush and pauses,
as if he couldn't believe his feasting eyes. He was
brown, the size of a medium dog with long legs, a big
head, and big ears. I thought surely he saw me, but
then he lunged forward towards the literally sitting
ducks in front of us. So I run forward too and he
immediately turns and heads back into the brush. I
run after him, throwing stuff, yelling and arms
flailing. I spotted him a few minutes later in the
brush on a nearby hill, trotting away. Wow, that was
close! And in broad daylight. Hope the coyote is
able to find some food somewhere, but not on my watch!
There's a mouse that lives right outside the front
door, I heard him chewing up a storm last night. I
have the chocolate carefully stored up high in case he
breaks through. I frequently see hawks circling
overhead. The wood stove is to die for. That kind of
heat is a dream come true. I'd propose if it didn't
already belong to Chris. I've locked myself out
twice, luckily they knew I was going to do this and
had prepared accordingly.
Until next time,
Nancy
2006/02/07
How many ducks does it take to...
...build a coop?
Answer: None. They supervise.
This is the beginning of an outdoor, fully-enclosed, predator-safe coop. It increases the nighttime safe zone by 50%. In the picture they are jockeying for position to get the worms I shovel at them.
Answer: None. They supervise.
This is the beginning of an outdoor, fully-enclosed, predator-safe coop. It increases the nighttime safe zone by 50%. In the picture they are jockeying for position to get the worms I shovel at them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)