…with these goats at the Fryeburg Fair last weekend:

They are Nigerian Dwarf Goats; the breed is a mini-version of a dairy goat. About 50 years ago dwarf goats were imported to the States from Africa. Two lines have developed from that original stock. One is barrel-chested and stocky and used widely in petting zoos. I hear that they are escape artists, bossy, mischievous. Fun, but too much trouble. The other line is used on small homesteads that want to have just enough milk for a family. These goats, though still with that humorous goat-nature, are more docile. They’re also, I think, more elegant and have a kinder eye. I like their leggier proportions. I think they’re beautiful. But then, I’m a woman in love.

We are thinking about getting two wethers (gelded males) in the Spring. Am mulling over fencing options. Anyone out there have experience with these goats? Know a good breeder?

The weather forecast for the next several days is cloudy but NO rain. We are giddy here. It’s blustery, chilly and windy, yet we’re all smiling and saying, “isn’t it lovely?”

I am hoping that the green tomatoes still clinging to the plants will ripen. To help them along, I decided to cut off all the excess foliage and clear away the rotting pieces. Let the sun in to dry out those plants! Most of my garden is done for the winter though, I’ve got a good patch of rutabagas and I’m slowly harvesting carrots – none of which will be harmed by chickens, so I invited the girls into the garden.

They’ve been eyeing this fenced off area and were eager to see what I’ve kept from them. They scratched. They explored. They tasted a bit of the remaining lettuce. Then they left me to my work. They fanned out over the yard, gleeful at being out and about. I’d let them out the other day, but their forays were cut short by a hawk that swooped low over the yard and around the big barn. I think it was looking for a bantam to pick up. Luckily, my husband saw it and chased it away and hustled the girls back into the safety of their yards.

In any event, today the chickens had a nice long outing. I was still working when they decided to go back to their coops. The hens that live in the big barn (Eleanor, Edwina, Maizie, Alma, Twinkydink and Blackie) all meandered back inside that building. The rest of the girls all found their way back to the smaller coop.

Isn’t it something how the hens, even with their freedom, stay in their own social groups and go each to their own homes for nap time? I’m anthropomorphizing, but, it sure is sweet.

My lawn is usually parched and bare because it is in full sun and I don’t water. But what’s growing there this year? These:

Yes, it’s been so wet (and dreary and soggy… and, okay… I’ll stop whining) that mushrooms are growing in my lawn.

We justifiably brag about Fall color in New England. Depending on the weather (and the species you’re looking at) the leaves change to reds, oranges and yellow. One year, due to perfect conditions, the wetlands in my neighborhood were purple! This year I see this in the maple tree outside my office window:

and this in the border between my yard and my neighbor’s.

I think it’s clethra. I can’t tell you exactly the variety. I do label all of my plants. I’ve got a nifty label maker that makes waterproof, long-lasting signs. I have copper stakes. So, why don’t I know what my plants are? One word – chickens. The girls pick up the stakes and toss them. I no longer know which rubedekia is which. My named peonies go unnamed. It’s not entirely their fault. I’m not a plantsman – I’m not one of those gardeners who know latin names, or have an unfailing memory for a plant. I just like getting my hands dirty. I thought that labeling my plants would help. The chickens say that the signs get in the way of their business. The chickens, as usual, won out by their sheer persistence and industry.

Candy’s hutch has been around the corner of the barn, in the shade. This keeps her cool in the summer. But in the winter, she likes to sunbathe in the morning, so we move the hutch about six feet so that it gets the first warm rays of the day. You’ll see more of Candy now. You’ll also see more of the hens – in wet weather they stay sheltered under the hutch. They’d rather be there than indoors (except for the smart and more delicate bantam leghorns who know better and stay inside.) Since the weather forecast for the next week is, “rain, showers, torrential downpours and more rain,” you’re likely to see the girls under that hutch a lot!

By the way, wet weather can make your hens sick. Be especially aware of how your silkies, frizzles and Polish breeds are doing. They don’t have the same warm feather insulation as the other breeds and can catch cold and die, all in a day. Make sure they are warm and dry! Feather-legged breeds like cochins are sturdier, but check that they aren’t damp 24 hours a day. They should be able to roost and dry out. I lost a favorite silkie to cold, wet weather one winter, so I’ve learned the hard way.

One of the joys of keeping chickens is that they make a big happy fuss about things that you hate – like grubs and Japanese Beetles. And they eat kitchen scraps, like leftover pasta and carrot tops and apple cores. So, when they don’t eat something, it’s a big letdown.

My hens refuse to eat my worst garden pest – sawfly larvae. These nasty caterpillars decimate my favorite birch tree that graces the front walk. Not only do the larvae scream a warning with their yellow and black coloring, but they do a backwards curl and wiggle their nasty feet at any danger. Despite the fact that chickens are always hungry and always on the look-out for something wiggly, they won’t go near these. Buffy pecked at one and then walked away. Perhaps the sawfly larvae taste as bad as they look? Does anyone know about a chicken’s sense of taste?

The girls also refuse to eat fuzzy caterpillars, which means they aren’t helpful with the tent caterpillars either. The bantam hens don’t like tomato horn worms. Too big. Luckily, the large hens in my flock fight over them.

We tend to think of chickens as indiscriminate eaters. But they’re not. Fortunately, they do like enough of the “bad” stuff to do good. My girls, at this moment, are feasting on crabgrass seeds. Active Lulu is chasing down cabbage butterflies. So, I forgive them for not doing in the sawfly larvae. I’ll get out my oil and soap spray and do the job myself.

What don’t your hens eat?