Bird Brains

In the last post, I promised you an update on Plan473.  Unfortunately, there has not been much going on as all the time is devoted to the Work Box and it entails.  There have been so many trips to the Big City #1 and #2 over the last six months I can't even keep count.  Miles and miles of Texas...

Or how about this one: the sun has risen, the sun has set, and we ain't left Texas yet.  One of my all-time favorites.  Traveling for days in a hot summer car with no AC, vinyl seats with sweat pouring down your back and sticking to your legs, and the lovely smell of exhaust coming in the back window.  Oh, don't forget this is at a steady clip of 55mph.  Yee-haw boy howdy those were the days. 

On one of the many trips we made a side trip and collected grain buckets.  No, we are not getting horses or cows or goats (much to my dismay as goats eat poison ivy).  The buckets are going to be used for an above ground bucket garden (hopefully) and to replant many of the potted plants.  Each bucket will take one and a half maybe even two bags of dirt/mulch they are so big.  Just look at this poor bottle brush, not only it is wind burnt, his growth has been stunted by the too small pot. I can't fix the wind, just the growth room.  Ugh, wind.

Remember I told you about the wind. I am sure it has been mentioned a time or two or twenty.  The wind is a constant thing here. Constant.  As in when the wind does not blow, people are standing around with a confused look upon their faces.  Who? What? Where? Huh? Aliens? Is the end of the world coming?

The wind does crazy things.  In the winter, the wind blows from the north and only slows long enough to blow once again from the south. Long enough here means a few hours. It blows and blows turning sand into stinging bits of grain.  It blows until leaves are burned and plants are withered.  It blows leaving weird impressions on the ground where plants rub.  Heard of crop circles, right?  These are wind circles.

With no time to wait for desirable weather, the planner had to modify the welding basket with a tarp and boards to secure the tarp. It was debated to add pool noodles to create a soft barrier to push against the box when welding but decided against it as the sparks would cause the noodle to catch fire, melt, cause drama.  The wind is drama enough.

The wind blew the bale of hay off the water toter and the bird brains had a field day.  A FIELD DAY.  Hay was spread for miles and it wasn't even a full bale of hay.  It less than half.  Could they scratch this effectively in the field?  No.  Guess greenish grass doesn't fly into the air when scratched ferociously. Scratch, fly, scratch, fly.  Birds have been known to have little to nonexistance brain capacity.  I don't really believe this rubbish, but then there are times...

 
And since their ryegrass bed in the coop had exhausted itself by mid-March, they have been forced to venture out more and more.

Venturing is important as the temperatures are rising and they still do not have shade in their coop.

 

First, they started with areas close to the boxes.  Safe places they have been to before.  An added benefit was the dog's water bowl.  Why go back to the coop when we can just drink here?  The dog doesn't seem to mind. I tried to catch a picture of two chickens standing on the bowl.  It was a feat. Two birds worked fine.  A third try to join, the bowl tipped, and birds fell off in a rustle of feathers and squawks. Yet still no pictures.  Hard to take when your laughing so hard tears are building up. Bird Brains.

Then they ventured out into the field where they should have been this whole time as it full of lovely, healthy coastal grasses. Farmers pay a pretty penny for grass like this. They did this for a couple of days maybe even a week.  Then the scary thing happened.  Scary.  What bad dreams are made from. A great blue egret flew over low and screeched his dinosaur sounds.  It truly is a scary sound.  Tail feather held high and fluffy butts waggling rapidly, their feet patted across the sand as fast they could back to the safety of the trees.  The rooster was beside himself.  Trauma drama.  Chickens walking is funny.  Chickens running is hilarious.  Bird Brains.

These birds are a mess.  Sometimes I think they have forgotten they are chickens.  Climb a tree, venture among the trees in chicken made paths.  Do something other than stand on my porch.  One day the Kid and I were pulling sunflowers from the walkways when we a rustle in the coop.  It was a cacophony of irritated chickens.

Thinking the worst, we hustled over there to nothing more than chickens.  No opossum, no raccoon, no snakes, no cats.  Just chickens with a pecking order issue.  The rooster was in the nesting boxes.  Not only was he in the box itself which was enough of an issue to cause a squawk.  He had squeezed himself into the CHOSEN nesting box.  The CHOSEN box.  Needless to say, the hens were not having it. It was impressive he could fit inside and have the ability to turn around so he could get out.  The boxes are designed for the small hens.  He is twice the size of the largest Black Sussex and three or fours times the size of the little Americana. Bird Brains.

While this was not our bird, the beautiful bluebird, flew into the glass door one day and instantly died.  I have read about the number of birds that die year and year for this same reason.  But the office door is on the ground, not a high rise.  He even left a little bird dust on the door.  It was so sad.  He received a proper burial far away from the gopher digging dog-o.  Poor little bird.

Finally, we had an alien outbreak.  For weeks, mysterious circles were appearing on random mornings and partially throughout the day.  But with the wind always blowing, the sand was dry and the circles were not completely understood.  One morning when there was a high level of morning dew, the true image presented itself.  Not alien circles.  Not wind circles.  Not crop circles.

Dog-o circles.  She did this last year but time erases the memory.  As this is the only time of the year she does it, the circles must have something to do with a skin allergy in the spring.  While chomping and chewing in a frenzy she turns in a complete circle. And she usually only does it in the mornings.  Chomping Circles.  Dog Brains.  

See not much has really happened at Plan473.  Just the normal everyday life things.  Hopefully, as the Work Box settles down, Plan473 will pick up again.

Work Box Update

Stress. What an amazing experience.

The last post about the Work Box left you with the framework that needed sandblasting and painting.  That was at the end of January and today it is the end of April.  How did it happen three full complete months have passed with little to show for it?  Stress.  That is how.  It is not as there was not plenty of work accomplished and completed in those three months.  It is just that there are little to no pictures to show the work that was done.  As in whole steps and procedures missing.  Weeks went by and not a single picture was taken.  Crazy.

At the beginning of March, the frames were blasted and prepped for painting.  This was the last stage of ample pictures taken.  But since this step has already been done once, no need to rehash with those pictures.

Next painting.  This is the ONLY picture taken during the entire painting procedure.  The ONLY picture is of the Planner wearing his painting jumpsuit and facemask looking like some space alien.

Oh, and the celebratory dinner.  Dessert actually.  All the same.  Half of the sandblasting was done one da.  The other half and all the painting was done the following day.  These are long days leaving little time for dinner preparation.  Tired of eating sandwiches, we ate WB.  Like we would eat anything else.  If you leave this blog learning nothing else, you will have learned that I have an addiction to WB!

Already into April, the next picture showing work being completed was of the boxes already slid together.   Not a single picture of the work it takes to slide over two connex boxes.  Unlike the last two, these two were placed in a confined area making the slide challenge.

NOT A SINGLE PICTURE OR VIDEO.  Amazing.  Sad.

Ditches were dug to connect the electricity from the Shop Box to the Work Box.

This took both the tractor, a spade shovel, and a straight shovel.  Working under an established box proved challenging.

Using the same technique with the drill and a rope, the electricity was pulled and awaited a panel.  Still deciding how large to make the outlet.

The Planner with his tools bought this handy dandy, oh so wonderful, electric caulk gun. This gun is the cat's meow.  Made caulking so easy even twigs could do it.

Twigs, aka the Kid.  He is in a growth spurt.  Tall and super lanky.  Eats everything in sight.  I am sure the food is being stored for later usage somewhere.  Right.  In this new stage, he eats, he sleeps.  Eating four to five times a day.  Sleeping for 12-14 hours.  Remember those days????

By the middle of April, window and window hatches were installed.  Unlike last time, these had to be done one at a time ensuring the windows were always secured against the elements as work was already inside.  Can't have product getting rained in on.

The same went for the door.  In just a few short days, the door was cut out, the frame installed, the hatch hung.  This despite spring winds.  Rage winds.  Howling winds.  That will be for another post. 

By the end of April, there was a ramp instead of a ladder.  This lasted for less than one day.  The Planner and the Kid thought it was fun.

Having competitions on how fast they could go up and down was great. For them. 

For me, by days end there was a temporary steps being built.

And that my friends brings you up to speed with the Work Box.  There were some other Plan473 adjustments made but those will have to wait until the next post.  It is a nice box.

Nature's Time to Play

There is nothing more spring than colors.  And this spring is becoming more spring than last year and Spring Has Sprung was nothing shabby either.

I am not even going to attempt to name these fantastic beauties. That would require a degree in plantology.  Yes, plantology.

 

A botanist I am not.

Nor a Master Naturalist which I would love to become if I had 500 hours of time to devote to class and field study.  Okay, not 500 hours but more time than I can devote right now.  Schooling is something I take seriously.  If I cannot guarantee I will achieve a 4.0GPA or the equivalent then there is no reason to do it.  Those who waste learning waste both their time and their professors time.  Other people could have been taking that spot.  One day, TAMU, I will take your class, learn your lessons, and spread your knowledge. One day, hopefully before I am too old to get my times worth.

Good grief, for that matter, I am not even a local plant store professional.  There is a local team here, a husband and wife and child team, that are the guru of local plant species. Native plants at that.  They are awe-inspiring.  They specialize in restoring native lands to native species. Plant only native species.  If paid, will assess your wild kingdom several times a year for selective removal of non native species. Being able to distinguish a plant by the flower is easy but by the leaf.  Amazing.

 Luckily there are some flowers that I do know like these Mexican Hats (above left)...

and of course the common ditch sunflower (above).  What we discovered this year when removing from undesired locations was a two different sunflower plant.  How you ask when they look the same?  Root variations.  Some sunflowers have long deep roots others are just shallow large balls of roots.  Those are much easier to pull up.  When closely inspected the leaves were different on the two plants. Nice.  I wonder which one regenerates easier?

And lastly, I know butterbups (left).  What child/adult who has ever played in fields all across this state does not know buttercups?  They were cherished possessions growing up.  As a kid in school, it was a mad dash to the soccer field at lunch recess to pick buttercups.  Delicate, sweet, and soft.  Precious.

Even the salvaged oleanders (right) from Harvey plant sale are blooming.  Must have done something right to save them.  Not knowing what colors I was getting when choosing them, it turns out I selected all three colors.  Red, pink, and white.

Spring, what a sight to see.  In order for spring to bloom year after year, bloom spreaders.

Yup as you may have guessed.  I am not a bugologist either.  With an exception to the ladybug (below), I do not know the names of these blossom spreaders.

While I do know this is a ladybug, what I do know is it a native ladybug or not.  There is some trick about dots vs no dots but I cannot remember that tip either.

The world is full of bugs.  More bugs than scientists even know about.  So that fact that I do not know what these cool yellow bugs are or what they are doing crawling all over this vine does not make me less informed.

 

To be a fully versed entomologist in all bugs in all lands is impossible. Impossible.  According to the Smithsonian, there are something like 10 quintillion insects.  So it is okay I don't know these bugs.  What I do know is important enough.  Bugs spread pollen and pollen is good.  Therefore we are kind to all bugs, insects, bloom spreaders.

Weeeellll.  Not kind to all bugs.  If this ridiculous horned caterpillar was eating my tomato plants he would have to go.  But since he was only munching his weight on a yaupon sapling, it was spared.

I even spare these nasty little creepy things.  Black and orange usually are signs of danger.  Danger danger cause these have been told to cause great pain when they sting.  In fact, the only bug/insect/nasty buggers that are NOT spared are roaches.  Figured there are plenty of them to spare killing a few (as in all I see) is tolerable.  However, since having the chickens, roaches are harder and harder to find.  YES! And if you are thinking where is the picture you can just keep thinking cause there is no way I am going to disgrace my blog with those things.  Nope. Not gonna happen.  This is a post for beauty, not ugly.  Jesh.

Beauties such as this, my favorite wildflower.  Petals so blue it was almost purple.  Purple and pink in the middle.  Bright yellow-orange anther.   Perfect representation of spring.