Karen Robinson was one of Candy’s many fans, and like all of us was saddened to hear of the great bunny’s passing. But, since Karen is also an artist who specializes in animal portraiture and wildlife paintings, she was inspired to do more than send me a sweet note (which would have been enough!) Karen was moved to paint a tribute to Candy. I received this in the mail today. It came all the way from Karen’s home near Devon, in the UK.

She painted it from the photo that I took of Candy and Pip conversing.

Karen’s website has a gallery of her work. Take a look at these. What great dogs! She keeps a blog where she writes about her commissions and her artistic process; I always enjoy a peek into the working life of an artist.

Thank you, Karen.

Aren’t eggs from you own hens the prettiest things? Even the basic brown egg isn’t so plain when you know who laid it. Of course you don’t want to break them, but, then again, you do want to eat them. Luckily, the expression, you can’t have your cake and eat it too, doesn’t apply to eggs. You can eat them, but still have the shells to keep.

When I was little my mother taught me to blow out eggs, using a big hole on one end, a small on the other, and lots of huffy breaths, which was fun when I was young, but I don’t want to do that now. Besides, I want the blown eggs to look as perfect as when they were laid, so I use an inexpensive German tool, the Blas-Fix Egg Blower.

First, I use the little pointy wand to drill a hole in one end.

Next, I insert the long needle into that hole and twist it around a bit to break up the yolk. Then I pump the bulb at the end to blow air into the egg. Out comes the egg white, saved into a clean bowl.

And out squishes the yolk.

Once the egg is empty, I go over to the sink, fill the tool with hot water and squirt that into the egg to rinse it out.

Then I set the egg in the holder, hole end down, to let it drain and dry.

From there it joins the other blown out eggs in my optimistic basket.

I’ll be getting some Ameracaunas this spring. I look forward to autumn when I’ll have blue eggs to add to the basket!

The goaties are adorable. They’re fuzzy, short, round, and friendly. Visitors always want to say hello.

But, when guests get close up, I often hear, I didn’t know they looked like that!

They’re referring to the goats’ eyes. The pupils are rectangular.

Other animals have rectangular pupils, too, but what makes a goat’s eye so startling is that the iris is a pale color (Caper’s is tawny brown, but some goats have blue eyes) so that the inky dark rectangle stands out.

This shape has a purpose. It allows for excellent peripheral depth perception – exactly what a hoofed prey animal needs to watch out for predators and make a quick escape. The goats can see about 320 to 340 degrees around them. Unlike horses, they don’t have a blind spot in the front. They have good night vision, too. My goats can see so well that when standing in the corner in their paddock they can spy me, through the screened porch, and then through the kitchen window, to where I’m working at the sink. They like knowing where I am.

There are other animals that also have rectangular pupils, like toads and octopi,

photo from howstuffworks.com

which are creatures that I like very much. However, these are the ones that I am ever so happy to have greet me in the barn.

This morning when I woke up and looked at the thermometer, it was 5 degrees below 0. That’s cold. The hens live in uninsulated coops with concrete floors padded in pine shavings. The bedding is not the “deep litter” system that (when done right, but only if done right) generates heat like an active compost pile. The only tiny bit of man-made heat in the barns comes from the electric water heaters, which, if you touch them, don’t feel warm at all when it’s in the single digits. Still, they do keep the water from freezing.

Despite this deep freeze, the girls were fine. Just fine! They did not turn into chicken popsicles overnight. In the morning, Grand Dame Buffy claimed the spot in the sun. That’s quite a feather coat that she has fluffed up.

I gave the old girls an extra handful of scratch corn and hulled sunflower seeds. They could do with the added calories on such a cold day. Greens are always a boost, so yesterday I gave them some fresh kale.

The Gems, in their sunny, dry, well-ventilated, clean, barn didn’t show any signs that the temperature had dipped so low. They didn’t require special care, but they lucked out;  I forgetfully left my stash of butternut squash in the garage, where it froze, which ruined it for cooking –  but not for the hens who were happy for something to do as the ground is frozen solid and no good for scratching in.

The goats, with their thick fur, don’t mind this weather, although somehow they managed to convince me that extra hay in their bellies would keep them even more comfy. It’s hard to say no to the boys.

So, for those of you who are skeptical when I tell you that hens do fine in bitter cold temperatures, without electric heaters, this is proof.

Eggs, though, do freeze and burst, so I’ll be going out to check for them a few times during the day. Winter eggs are too precious to let them crack (and become inedible to all but the dogs.) I’ll have to bundle up, coat, gloves, and insulated boots. I don’t do half as well in the cold as the chickens do.

For more about winter care of chickens, read my FAQ.

As much as holding the dinosaur chicken was a thrill, seeing others with poultry in arms was also fun. The most inspiring place to see chickens being handled was at the showmanship competitions for the youth.

These children don’t just show their birds; they dote on them.

This girl’s rooster loves to be cradled in her arms and have his belly rubbed.

I think that the “fancy” (as the world of bird shows is called) is in good hands!