Thursday, March 12, 2009

Anybody want Chicken for Supper?

Damn chickens!! I think the rooster got confused when daylight savings time went into force last Saturday. He starts crowing at 4:30 a.m.! And then he crows non-stop for the day until it gets dark again in the evening. Wouldn't you think he'd get hoarse? I'm about ready to yank his little vocal cords out with my bare hands.


As I said in my previous entry, we're in a little town called Bosque Farms, about 20 miles south of Albuquerque. Bosque Farms is a rural community that kind of grew into a small town without any zoning rules. So things are pretty intermixed - beautiful homes intermixed with hobby farms that are intermixed with businesses.

We're parked on a friend's acre beside her beautiful home. Beside her property on the west is a business, on her east is another home where the guy has a mini junk yard and behind her is a residence that not only has chickens and horses, but goats also. So it's quite an interesting mix. But the folks that live behind her with the chickens have a rooster than may just get his neck in a noose before I leave here. He starts crowing at 4:30 a.m. and doesn't quit ALL DAY LONG. I thought roosters just crowed in the morning to wake everybody up to start the day and then just strutted around for the rest of the day pecking at bugs on the ground or something. But not THIS rooster - he's a bantum, so I think he suffers from the Napoleon Syndrome and is trying to prove his "manliness" or some such thing. All day long - urrr-ur-ur-ur-urrrrrr!! Jeez! Go fertilize an egg or something but quit that confounded crowing. We KNOW you're there.

And then there are the goats. They don't cause any problems - but this big billy goat doesn't smell of the sweetest perfume either. I think he's the patriarch of the group and has a lot of self-confidence. Doesn't seem to have to prove his manliness like the damn rooster.



Urrrr-ur-ur-ur-urrrrr!

Love Lena (as she spits feathers from her mouth!)

4 comments:

Susan said...

Ah--farm life. Sure beats I-94 being closed in Fargo, don't it now?

Carolyn said...

Noise like that can make me crazy! Perhaps it's time for an old fashioned chicken fry!

Meggie said...

Bantam rooster. Reminds me of what my mother used to call our next door neighbor -- a short man with the same Napoleon complex you described. For the longest time I had no idea what a Bantam rooster was. Guess why? We lived in town where livestock (such a goats) and chickens were a countryside novelty. Not the case anymore. My MIL used to keep chickens. Roosters were a fact of life, but they were "normal" roosters not those cocky Bantams. Aren't they pretty little things though?

Paula said...

So the thought of spending time in an idyllic rural world complete with red crested rooster crowing on the fence isn't so pleasant huh???