The nesting turkey hens occasionally fluff nesting materials over the eggs so they can slip out into the barnyard for a few minutes to stretch their legs, get a drink of water, maybe snack on some corn. One pretty young turkey hen, walking alone, attracts a lot of attention from the the gang of guys loitering
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Farm chores are messier on rainy days.  There’s the mud.  There’s the wet underbrush you have to run through and the rising creek you wade through while chasing escaped calves back through the hole in the fence.  You get soaked to the knees if you’re lucky, and to the waist if you’re not.  Eight or ten hours later,
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Old fences of hedge posts and rusted barbed wire mark some of the pasture boundaries here at the farm.  We have newer fences, too, some with metal posts and wire that’s maybe a decade old.  Others have been repaired and partly replaced as needed through the years, as is common on farms like this in
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