Smokey Mountain Breakdown

I really have nothing appropriate to say today so I took some pictures of the guineas. They like dogfood and come to the house to beg for it in the late afternoons. Max tried to run them off so he could grub through the dirt for it, but, surprisingly, they held their ground.

Here's a wonderful Fourth to everyone.

So, Saturday I go pick up spaghetti dinners to share with my friend. Her son bought us tickets. It's okay--the standard sort of spaghetti dinner one expects from a charity event. It's not vermicelli, it's those big ropes of pasta. The decision is made for me to go earlier than later.

"It's sort of hard to mess spaghetti up."

"I've seen it done."

But it's nice to share a meal and it was good. Particularly since I went early.

There, down the cliff in the road are the guineas. This is where they disappeared to. The locusts started up right around the time they disappeared. Locusts are what we call cicadas here. I think the guineas went in search of them--imagining in their tiny brains buffets of fat juicy cicadas emerging from their shells like oysters.

What they found was potato beetles and larvae. They'd been in the neighbor's garden gorging themselves. I despaired of seeing them again. I felt certain they'd just keep on chattering their way to Del Rio--aimlessly wandering and every once in a while wondering where they left their car keys.

"If you have to shoot them, that's fine. Just bring me a carcass. There is a dish I want to try."

"They've got blue meat, you know?"

"Really? I knew it was dark. Blue? Really? Gotta see that."

Sunday, I wake up and they are perched on the roof of the house like turkey buzzards. I wanted to give them some feed to reward them for miraculously figuring out they belonged here. But Max and Shadow harassed the two who were not on the roof and the entire lot flew up to the safety of the chicken shack. They've been up there eating bugs. I really need them here in the yard eating ticks. But the dogs just don't know what's good for them.

I installed the new security system today. Guineas. Betsy gave me six.

If you aren't familiar with these birds, they are sort of prehistoric looking. They are from Africa. They are known for a number of things. They lay lovely spotted eggs that make great French toast. They have loud raucous cries that can be heard over long distances--they make these when anything in the slightest bit new appears in their vicinity. They will clear your entire farm of ticks. If you have pheasant in a restaurant, you are most likely eating one of these--they are all dark meat. Their young are called "keets". Unlike many domestic fowl, they do fly.

The other thing they are known for is their monumental stupidity.

These guys will be caged up here for six weeks since it takes that long for them to register a place as "home".

Max is so wildly happy about them that he's had to be tied up. He is already imagining lots of fun games to play with them.

Bebe Goat and I went to Betsy's for his "tutoring" with her burdizzo. She disbudded him for me too. He's pretty pissed but at this age he won't remember anything by tomorrow. Like most Nubians, he's pretty whiny so it's taking him a bit to get over it.

He now has a name. It is "Yang", for the perfectly formed Yang symbol on his forehead--his only white marking.