The colors of autumn are all around us.
There she is in the back with chickens.
Mr. Cottage is back home from the hospital. His surgery went very well, better than we anticipated. A nurse comes twice a week and physical therapist 3 times a week for the next two weeks. He has good moments and days and then some that aren’t so good. I guess it is all to be expected.
I was so tired and full of anxiety by the time I brought him home from the hospital I was a total Nurse Cratchett, so frustrated that I couldn’t seem to do anything to make him comfortable I ended up being short-tempered with him. That first night and the next day he was home was pure hell. The doctor injected a pain/numbing/anti-inflammatory during surgery that is supposed to last up to 72 hours and it worked quite well, of course by the time I brought him home it had worn off and the pain was off the chart. I hate that. We are getting by now. Very grateful that he is doing as well as he is.
Our community hospital is a very attractive facility with amazing views of the Blue Ridge Mountains, excellent care and all around a good place to be, even though you never want to spend time in the hospital it isn’t so bad here. Since surgery was scheduled for Halloween, I suggested to Mr. Cottage that we dress up for the big day.
His surgeon got a big kick out of his chicken outfit.
Our two Polish chicks decided about a week ago that they were not going to roost in the coop at night and would fly up high in the dogwood tree next to their coop at roosting time and there was no getting them down. The night of the surgery, I came home and found that Augustine had been decapitated. I was so grief-stricken and of course, there wasn’t a thing I could do about it, but bury her and move on. The morning after I brought Mr. Cottage home from the hospital, I found that Pocus too had been decapitated during the night. And that was that. This is the ugly side of farming that I hate and no matter how often it happens it rocks my world. I can’t seem to honor them with grieving the way I need to because something else happens and I have to move on to the next event. Just venting a little.
I was standing at the kitchen window the other day, watching the chickens when I saw a movement under the Magnolia tree, I thought to myself, that isn’t a chicken. There, there it goes again. A juvenile female Pheasant. Sure enough, I grabbed my camera and took a few shots. She spent the day hanging out with chickens. When evening came and I was locking up the coops I looked everywhere for her, hoping maybe she would go in with them, then I wouldn’t have to worry with finding her dead in the morning. Morning came and I couldn’t find her anywhere. I searched all day and there was no sign of her. The next day I was heading down to the farm stand and I saw something move over by the blueberry bushes and there was a beautiful male Pheasant, he quickly ran off into the woods. I haven’t seen either one since. I like to think they are hanging out together and all is well.
Thank you all for your support and sharing your thoughts on Angels. It’s all good.