This morning, hubby and I went out to feed the goats and discovered that the farm’s welcoming committee had arrived. We have a free-range flock of 12 or so guinea-fowl that rush around the farm very importantly, clucking loudly all the while. It’s hard not to imagine them as middle-aged women from the 1930s wearing straw hats, chattering excitedly about the next Ladies’ Guild meeting. Well… okay, maybe I’m getting carried away with the imagery. Here’s a shot of them inside the goats’ pen:
The goats, by the way, stayed as far away from these birds as possible. Here’s a closer shot of the flock a while later:
Can’t you just picture them with little straw hats, carrying a purse and gloves? I get the mental picture of Almira Gulch (the “real” Wicked Witch of the West) riding around on her bicycle every time I see them racing off to some new important guinea-fowl event:
Am I wrong? Okay, okay, I’ll drop the imagery, but really – these birds are hilarious! Anyhow, the goats are doing much better today:
The stuff stuck in Hamlet’s coat is just straw this time:
This morning was sunny for a change – and we were all out enjoying it.
