BUGS

My grandson Owen has a great dislike of insects and his powerful child's eyesight can spot the tiniest of them. His normal response is to holler out "BUG" which is the signal for us grandparents to search it out with our failing aged eyesight. When we can't spot it, we say "where I don't see a bug"  to which he replies, "There it is.!!!"

Fern ate it !!!

Clean-up on isle 9.  "Gramma Fern needs a wipe" !!!!



Shhhh.....They can't see us in here...FERN leave my hat alone!!!

Peaches and the back 40.

The girls new pen. Made from mostly recycled materials including a very large doghouse and some fencing from my son's old dog pen. 

........Fern sees a bug....

,,,,,,it's Owen.!!  Checking out the lavish space inside the dog er... GOAT house.  Plenty of room for both girls to sleep in.

Bugs.  That was Owen's response to his first introduction to newborn quail. And the name has stuck, Wifey and I now commonly refer to them as "the bugs" to quickly identify the difference from the other chicks we are brooding on the back porch.  We have not lost a single "bug" since my last post and the cats have had to resort to eating only cat food.

Silkies.

A mixed batch of chicks from our hen's eggs.  Ten of which have already found a new home when I sold them to a neighbor.  Life on the farm is good.  Lots of fun....especially with Owen's BUG games.

THE END