These banty hens don’t know when to quit. They don’t consult the calendar — or the farmer — and they just don’t recognize that it’s the wrong season for bringing more babies into the world. They keep nesting. They keep hatching out chicks, leading them through the leaves, teaching them to scratch in the dirt for seeds and other tasty snacks.

Lamb Chops and the rest of the herd are celebrating with a day of grazing out in the orchard . . . as soon as I take them out to the orchard.     Ingrid, the American Buff goose,  and her snowy white Embden companions heard the news that I’m making a special trip today,
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  That’s twenty-two ducklings in the bathtub.  Go ahead, count them.    This is their first swim.  Ducklings are hard-wired with swimming skills.  They don’t need to be taught.  As soon as their fluffy bodies land in the water, their webbed feet start paddling.  They swim back and forth, peeping with delight.  They’re the ultimate
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Tucked into the edge of the woods on our farm is the neglected, overgrown remains of an old farmhouse.  There’s not a lot left of it, some foundation stones, rusting roof tin, bricks strewn here and there — and some hardy survivors in what probably were well-tended flower beds in the yard.      I suspect this
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They’re hunting rabbits.  Actually, it’s just Dinah, the farmcollie, hunting rabbits.  Tiny Lamb’s following close because that’s just what she does.  She follows Dinah everywhere unless one of the other dogs distracts her and takes over lamb-sitting duty. Dinah’s our best small pest hunter.  She particular excels at hunting down moles, mice, voles, and rabbits
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Here’s what a spoiled rotten house lamb wears for playtime in the barnyard on a cold morning.  Tiny likes the red flannel ‘coat’ with its black trim and faux fleece lining.   It has velcro closures at the chest and belly, and the two sleeves fit her front legs perfectly.  Tiny likes the chickens’ cracked corn, too. 
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Tiny, the bottle lamb, took her first stroll outdoors late yesterday.  At first, she stayed close to Dinah, the black farmcollie who’s adopted her.  Dinah watched her like a nervous mama, too, and gently nudged her out the front door when I called them both from the porch.  They explored the porch, then followed me
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I found these two under a cedar tree at dusk Saturday.  That’s Lamb Chops on the left.  He weighed in at 7 3/4 pounds.  He’s more than double his twin’s weight.  We’re calling the little one on the right Tiny since she’s only 3 3/4 pounds.  I missed their birth by minutes, but got to
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About those dogs . . . see the farmcollie on the far right sneaking in for a playful nip?  That’s Bebe.  She tugged hard on a tuft of old Blue’s fur.  Blue curled his teeth back in a snarl.  It’s a very careful snarl, not too much growl to it, not too much teeth, maybe
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Even the chickens huddle up close to the fireplace when the temperature drops and the snow flies. Really, there’s a fireplace in this picture with the chickens — the back of one, at least.    The wide base of the chimney is the barely visible section of concrete wall jutting out behind the pile of straw
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