We incubated our first batch of eggs last month, it was a particularly warm day which made our rooster quite 'active' and we thought it'd be a sure thing. The eggs were supposed to hatch at 21 days. We listened for peeps, nothing. We watched for movement. "Did you see that?" "Did that blue one just twitch?"
Day 21. Nothing. Day 22. Nothing. Day 23, Rog's birthday. Nothing. So we weren't ready to throw in the towel quite yet so we did some research. Low humidity, low temps can slow things down so all bets are off until day 25 passes.
Day 25. Nothing.
We cracked the eggs, carefully awaiting the stench. Zero development, zero embryos, zero signs that they even started to do something. Hatching fail #1. We candled them but had no clue what we were seeing. Incubator 12. Us zero.
Rog's birthday had an up side though. Or is it a down side. He grew up working with Nubians. Our first goat, Avery was a Nubian. A loud, obnoxious Nubian. So dummy bought him one as a birthday gift. Dummy being me. . .
She is fantastically cute. And he loves her. She is Rock-E-Timber ET Sabine. She came home with us during a tornado and we couldn't find anything catchy related to the gods/goddesses of wind, storms, etc. so we settled on an ancient Roman name, Sabine which means the calm after the harvest. Pretty fitting, I think!
So we have sold most of the available kids, chores are smoother and easier, and I had to go and buy a freaking newborn Nubian. Sheesh.
More fatty fat meat birds joined the crew yesterday. 20 this round, 30 more coming in July.
The chickens are being inundated with birds. Starlings in particular. This year more than ever, nests appear overnight, poop covers every available surface. Yet another reason I hate birds. Dirty messy listeriosis carrying pests. This nest WAS quite lovely though.
Blessing did remarkably well through kidding season. She adores the babies and lets them climb and bounce all over her. She is not fond of visiting dogs and voices her distaste, repeatedly. In other words, she is doing her job...well.
She earned a spa day after completing her first kidding season with us. We are much more comfortable with her now, haltering, catching, feeding, even trimming her feet have gone pretty well. But for shearing I thought I'd leave it to the professionals. A neighboring alpaca farm had hired a service to come out so I simply had to walk her next door and watch them get the job done quickly and efficiently, she handled it like a trooper. I think she looks creepier now. Tail is up all the time and I am definitely not interested in seeing the goods. She looks tiny now, but she tips the scales at about 280.
Say cheese!
