Goats investigate their world with their lips. I think that’s why they have the reputation for eating everything, from laundry to tin cans. We’ve learned never to leave an open tool box within reach. They’ll mouth everything in it – but the goats don’t actually eat the screwdrivers – they just toss them about. If a cord dangles from a sweatshirt, they’ll chew on it. Shoelaces are also fair game.

Goats will taste just about anything, but that doesn’t mean that they’ll chew and swallow. I’d heard that goats like peanuts and bought a bag for the boys. Pip munched the whole peanut, crunchy shell and all. Caper tasted one and said patooie! I’m trying to train the goats, and would like to find a treat that both like that I can use for rewards. They love goat sweet feed, but I dole it out in very small quantities – you have to be careful with wethers, who are prone to urinary calculi.

One thing I’d like to have the goats do is to walk nicely on leashes. Goats are easily distracted, skittish around new things, and really don’t like to be told which way to go. It’d help if I had a reward that would keep them focused on me.

I’ve found out which food makes their tails wag with excitement. Unfortunately, it’s on the ground. Now I really can’t get them to walk on the leash. I can’t get them past the sprouting acorns. Last fall, they ignored the fallen acorns. But, this spring green shoots have cracked the nuts open. It’s like the difference between a mung bean and a salad sprout. One is hard and bitter, the other sweet and chewy. It’s goat candy.

See the acorn in Pip’s mouth?

It’s been a beautiful spring.

This is an ornamental cherry. I used to have a tag on the bush so I’d remember exactly what it is – but the nameplate disappeared one winter. Whatever it is, it’s delicate, blowzy, pale pink and the first to bloom in the spring. The blooms don’t last long. One strong wind, and poof, they’re gone.

The only flowers that can handle our late frosts are pansies. Here are planters by the HenCam coop door. The chickens look longingly at them.

One fall, I planted 500 bulbs in the front yard. There were very fat chipmunks that year…. but a few daffodils survived.

Violets have naturalized in the poor soil on our septic mound. Soon, I’ll be spreading all of last year’s compost out there and planting pumpkins. Little by little, the soil improves.

These marshmallows bloom in the water feature. Frogs hide in them.

There are plenty of vegetables that do well, even when there are early morning frosts. The radishes are up, as are the kale, spinach, and chard. I’ve planted peas. They’re still holding out for a tad more warmth before they emerge. Meanwhile, the goats are “helping” with the spring clean-up by eating acorns. More about that in my next post!

Tillie Lays an Egg is a work of fiction. She didn’t really lay her eggs in those silly places. However, it was inspired by a bird who did not bother to lay her eggs in the nesting boxes. It looks like I have another one of these hens.

An astute HenCam viewer emailed me with concern. Tina was walking funny. Was she ill? No. Tina was about to lay an egg. Most hens hunker down in a nesting box, where they are safe and comfortable. It takes a bit of an effort to lay an egg. Some chickens are drama queens and make it clear how hard they are working. It’s almost as if they squinch their eyes shut and push. Others sit prettily, lay an egg, then daintily leave the nest as if nothing has happened. Others, lay their eggs, and then loudly announce their achievement.

Then there are the hens who would like to ignore the whole business of egg laying. They’d rather not take a moment out of their busy days to lay their eggs. If you know a toddler who refuses to go to the potty, and has that look, well then, you know what Tina is like. She walks around, getting more and more uncomfortable, and finally leaves an egg wherever she is.

Sometimes hens avoid the nesting boxes because of fear – perhaps a predator has been in the coop. Sometimes, there aren’t enough boxes for the number of chickens. Or, maybe, there’s a nicer place, like a pile of hay in the barn. None of this applies to Tina. The other day she left an egg near the chicken ramp. I didn’t see it until I closed the girls up for the night. Luckily, Tina lays white eggs that are visible in the dark. There’s not much that I can do about this except to watch where I step.

I received a gazillion entries in the win a chicken purse contest. (Actually, the real number was 209, which is A LOT!) Thank you so much for all of your sweet, funny, notes. I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to write to each and every one of you, but I appreciated every letter!

I’ve been asked about how I deal with the lack of privacy, what with being on camera whenever I go out to the coops. The answer is – I no longer wear PJs out to the barn in the morning. Honestly, sometimes I am self-conscious. But, the trade-off is that I’m able to share this small, delightful, corner of the world with people who need it. I’ve heard from a teacher of a special-needs deaf boy, who watches the goats on a computer in his classroom. I’ve heard from people who work in windowless beige cubicles who keep HenCam on as their window to sanity. I’ve heard from elderly people who used to have chickens, but no longer can, and they watch my girls with nostalgia. Then, there’s the soon-to-be urban hen keepers looking for advice, and the chicken owners who just can’t get enough of the poultry experience and use HenCam as a community of like-minded chicken-lovers. I’ve heard from 4-H kids, and 3-year olds  who love Tillie. So, the trade-off of not wearing PJs to the barn is that I get the joy of sharing this “happy place” with so many people. On balance, I think I get the best end of the deal.

I wish that I had a purse for each and every one of you! But, after using a random number generator on my computer, the winner is Katie Johnson! Congratulations!

I’ve been feeling a bit out of sorts for the last few days. Partly, it’s the post-MARTHA let-down. I’d been running on adrenalin, and you know that can’t last. Partly, I’m betwixt and between writing projects. My agent is shopping a few books around. Hopefully, one or more will be bought, and with the input of an editor I can get back to work on them. I’ve had a picture book rejected for “having too many words” so I need to get back to that and cut, cut, cut. Another book proposal needs rewriting and a sample chapter finished before my agent can show it to an editor. Basically, I’m in the middle of a lot of projects. I’m not at the beginning stages with the “aha” thrilling moments of invention, and I’m not at the nuts and bolts of the final edits. I’m at the hard work stage.

But, I’m not writing. Instead, I cleaned out my file cabinets. Now there is a clear place for each project (there are nine files – I’ve had a lot of “aha” moments.) I’ve cleared off my desk. I’ve moved compost. I’ve bathed the dogs. I’ve been reading many, many wonderful emails from readers of this blog. (Thank you! I’ve been enjoying every note!) I planted lettuce.

I was about to sit down at my computer and finally get to writing work. Really and truly. But the mailman drove up with a package for me! From my friend, in England, Celia Hart. It was an out-of-the blue, unexpected Easter gift. Here is what she sent.

Chicken ornaments! Heritage bean cards! A raffia flower! All made by her. Some of this is available in her store, but you don’t have to buy a thing. Her blog is a gift in itself.

Now, I am ready to get to work. After I hang the ornaments in my office window.