Ironic, isn't it

Today I walked out of the local big-box home improvement store with over 80 lbs of bird seed and a 700 square foot roll of bird netting. Both actually were for the chickens, sort of. The chickens have learned to become opportunistic moochers when the song birds get messy with their feeders. On the other hand, the other purchase is intended to prevent them from mooching off the appetizing veggies in the garden.

I appologize for the lapse . . .

It's been one of those weeks where I could have used a weekend on Wednesday. Last week already feels like a month ago. Amazing how any preconceived notions on how the week's work will go gets thrown out the window before things even get started.

On top of still trying to catch up with various work projects that were put on hold during my working vacation, I had a horse increase my stress-level and rearrange my schedule. In short, the old horse let me know that his body was worn out and it was time to let go. After two and a half years, the pasture looks strange with just the two mares, but I no longer wake up every morning and rush to the bedroom window to count heads in fear that the old guy had something happen overnight (or do the equivalent as I pull into the driveway after work). 

With another multi-day rain event in the forecast for the weekend it looks like I do not have any excuses for further procrastination on indoor home projects.  I tried catching up on a few last things outside tonight, like transplanting cool season veggies in the "salad garden" and moving the chickens' feeder to where it would be protected from the rain. I thought about refilling the wild bird feeders, but after the effort it took to clean out the finch feeder when the thistle seed got wet in the last deluge I decided that the birdies should just fend for themselves for a couple days.

Dumb birds?

We were sitting at Busch Gardens last week, enjoying lunch, and commenting on how food service puts way too many french fries on the combo baskets. As expected in any outdoor eating space at a theme park, the opportunistic birdies were making their presence known. And of course there were signs discouraging us from feeding the birds (and squirrels).

So my friend, who happens to have a bit of a bird phobia, decides to throw a french fry across the open space to try and draw the birds away from where we sat. The flying fry made a beautiful arc and landed about 20 feet away, with three starlings in chase. After a brief squabble one emerged victorious and perched on the perimeter fence holding its prize.

The odd part was while other birds did arrive to check out the commotion, they all start staring gaped-mouth at the ceiling expecting more greasy potato goodness to come falling from the sky like manna.

Non-birds of a different feather

Apparently I also attract people in bird-like costumes.

Watch out for the street performers at Busch Gardens.

Birds of a different feather

I've had birdfeeders out since I had my rental house in town. Usually it's one of mixed seed and one of black oilseed, and then a hummingbird feeder in the summer. The hummingbird feeder is a cheap source of evening entertainment, with me sitting on the back porch watching those little suckers fight over feeder space. One time I counted as many as seven ruby-throats dive-bombing each other. Adding the trellis and cages for the pole beans and tomatoes last summer changed the airborne tactics, in that the wires were just the right diameter for a hummer to pause and plan it's next path of attack.

The latest change was switching out one of my winter mixed-seed feeders for thistle (niger) seed. Growing up in the Great Lakes region, goldfinches were a ubiquitous part of the summer flora and fauna. Down here in the Deep South I'm in their winter range, and when a co-worker mentioned how many were spotted around her feeders I took the plunge to try attracting them too. They don't have quite the markings I remember because they are in their winter plumage; they are more of an olivey yellow-green to faded yellow but the personality is all there.

I never thought much about feeder placement other than keeping them out of reach of the cats and horses, and away from the garden should spilled seed go uneaten. I'm just now realizing the retrofitted thistle seed feeder is in a prime viewing location from my living room sofa thanks in great part to the new flurry of activity. I've seen as many as a dozen goldfinches around the feeder as they battle for one of four feeding ports. They aren't as territorial as the hummers, as the finches will somewhat patiently wait their turn in the branches surrounding the feeder compared to the ruby-throats that don't want to see another bright green "friend" while they enjoy their nectar. However the finches are chow-hounds - I've watched the seed level drop an inch in the past hour of their morning feeding frenzy.

The mixed seed is still out there, but I moved it to the other side of the house. Now I can watch that one from my bedroom window as I get ready for work. And so far the horses have not payed much attention to the pinata-of-seed that is the new mixed seed feeder.

As for the chickens? I think one of the side benefits of all these bird feeders is that they are opportunistically waiting under the songbird feeders for any sloppy eaters. And I'm hoping this means they'll leave my daffodils and pansies alone. (knock on wood)