I’m told I’m a terrible blogger, because I’m supposed to write more regularly, and keep it short and to the point. But I write when I feel inspired, and then I write essays with too much introspection. So shoot me. I’ll try to adhere to proper blogging standards from now on for all those friends with the short attention span, but for all that I understand the appeal of brief blogs, I can’t help but think if all you’re doing is sending out short reports of what goes on in your days, what is the point? Does anyone really care what I had for lunch today?

 Anyway - It's spring, and I am long overdue on a farm update. Here goes.

 As the winter began to fade, I was bummed that my female peacock no longer had a mate. Peacocks are not like chickens that lay eggs all year round. Peafowl (the official term for a peacock) only lay in season, and I knew spring was coming and I’d have some unfertilized peacock eggs soon – and we already know my family freaks out when I feed them a peacock omelet.

 So when a friend ran across a gorgeous male peacock for sale at a flea market and sensed he could talk the seller down to a slick 80 bucks (I guess the global economy crash has affected the peacock market as well) he called Mark and asked if he should pick it up for me. Mark made arrangements, and I came home from a yoga seminar to an unexpected bonus birthday gift. I was delighted.

 I named the new bird Elmer, (because I want this one to stick around). Elmer adjusted to his new digs quickly enough and began spreading his tail and flirting with Prism (my female) and I was privy to more than a few peep shows of peacock passion.  Spring came and Prism began laying eggs, (which I can attest are fertilized) and she’s been sitting now for two weeks.

 Yesterday, I pushed her aside (which made her really cranky) to check out the nest. There are 5 peacock eggs under her, and two chicken eggs from my dopey Rhode Island Red that is always laying her eggs in the wrong place.  I removed the measly chicken eggs because chickens hatch in 21 days and peacocks in 31, and Prism won’t know the difference – once chicks hatch a mother will only wait two more days before abandoning the nest to raise her young. Can’t have her bailing on the baby peacocks just to raise more trouble-making Rhode Island Reds.

 I was standing there with these two half developed eggs in my hand in a moral dilemma. I could throw them into the woods for some creature to eat, but they were probably only a few days from hatching and that felt a little like murder.  So, I shoved them under one of my nesting chickens, but as I drew my hand away, I heard a slight peeping. I looked closer at her eggs. One was cracked and a new chick was making its premiere. Cool. This morning I checked again and there are three healthy chicks in the nest, and a few more eggs still under her that may or may not hatch. This will make the third chicken I have raising a few spring chicks – not that I need more chickens, but I can’t resist the pleasure of watching motherhood in process. I have them in cages all over the place. Crazy, but fun. 

 My turkeys are huge, stupid and totally attached to me. They throw themselves against the side of the cage when I walk by, trying to follow me. The plan to eat them is curling up at the edges, as you probably knew it would. Meanwhile, they are stinky and rather a nuisance to raise. I don’t know what the heck I’m going to do with them. I thought of putting them in my huge chicken run, but they are simply too messy– perhaps I’ll just open the cage door and see how they fare roaming wild around the barn. But first I’ll wait until they are fully-grown. I want to hear them gobble and see them all puffed up like the preening turkeys you see on thanksgiving décor before anything happens to them. Seeing them change and grow and interact is half the fun.     

 I am forever starting animal projects out of curiosity, then cursing myself because I want to scale back rather than get more involved. Ah well – might as well enjoy this stage of life while I can. I’m quite sure I won’t be playing around a barn forever.

 My Angora rabbit had a litter and I took all eight beautiful babies to the feed store to swap for a store credit. They sell the rabbits for 50.00 each, but I am given 10.00– which is perfectly fine with me. I really just want to find the rabbits a good home. I even wrote a two page “how to care and feed your angora rabbit” document to go home with each pet. Linda, the store owner, laughed at me for being so worried about their fate.  Originally, I planned the litter because I wanted a second female angora, but on second thought, I decided to adhere to my “scale back” plan. So I also gave the store one of my adult male angoras to sell. I go into the store everyday to visit him (and whisper apologies into his cage for sending him away).  Then I pick out plants for my new garden to use my credit – plants are a temporary responsibility and I'm leaning in that direction now. Got some big rhubarb plants last week and stuck them in the ground in my new raised beds. Maybe by next year I’ll be trying out some of those rhubarb recipes I keep cutting out of Gourmet magazine. I’m ready for some new cooking exploits, and the best part is, if the Rhubarb isn't happy, I won't feel any guilt about it.

 This is getting too long, and I imagine my readers are starting to crinkle their brow as they think "get on with it" - so I’ll wrap it up.

My llamas are for sale, but I haven’t gotten any calls. I’m committed to having fewer creatures to care for by winter, but scaling back is heart wrenching. I really love my young llama, so I’m on the fence with this whole “lose the llamas” thing. I'll let fate decide.

I’m selling one of my two horses – the high-spirited, high maintenance one. I’ll keep the quarter horse as long as I live in Georgia. That animal owns my heart. One horse is a joy. Two is simply too much work.

Donkey is fine, and remains my favorite. He’ll be the last animal standing in Ginny’s world.

 Speaking of donkey, I should write about my book (entitled, My Million Dollar Donkey). It rests with four agents now, and another spoke with me at a seminar last week and asked me to rewrite the opening (she was giving me a critique) and said she would like to see the entire book after I make some suggested changes. So, as always, it is still a waiting game. I could talk more about my writing, it’s going well – but that would break my new blog rule, so you’ll have to wait.  

Had lunch with Kathy last week. Great to see her, but she won't  be returning to her reading studies anytime soon. That is one project that ran it's course. Sniff.

Times up.