At 11 am this morning I get a call from “Neal” at the Post Office in Minneapolis. Our chicks are here and we need to pick them up by 2pm at the East Docks. Really? I am at work, on my way to an appointment. No way I can get to downtown Minneapolis by then. Luckily Patti was able to head over there once Claire got off the kindergarten bus at noon. 27 cute little fuzz balls are now under the watchful gaze of my bird dog (whom I had a stern talking to) in the first of the boxes. As they grow we will graduate them to a larger enclosure, until we know what sex they are. Being where we are, we cannot have a huge flock of chickens. This cluster of cuteness will eventually have the males (once it is evident which they are) removed, (fried chicken anyone?) and we will only keep a few of the females, giving away the rest to friends who have also expressed an interest in having a few chickens.
I have been itching to get into the dirt, so when I got home I cleaned out the front-most of my gardens. Not too much to do, but the shadows were already showing long down the street. I just raked back the leaves that covered it, turning over surprised worms who dove back into the soil. I pulled out what was left of the dead pepper plants which had been there the year before, dug up the soil a bit, raked it flat, used a 10′ section of pipe to make straight row indentations for planting, sowed the seeds, covered, patted it down, and was done.
Not more than 30 minutes of work, but by then the sun was diving behind the houses so I ducked in to wash up and have something to eat.
The dog had still not eaten the chicks, and the cats are not paying attention to them yet. Hard to keep the kids out, and I suppose at some point one of the birds will get loved just a little too much. Oh well.
The season of growing and gathering is upon us. Ice on the lake is turning black, and melting back from the edges. Today was bright sun and temperatures close to 60. Felt like mid-summer after the blizzard on my birthday just two weeks ago.
