Oooooh....pretty.....

Our local weather forecasters are all heaving a collective sigh of relief. They were right: the snow came!

It's not a lot, but it's enough to make everything look pretty:

and make me feel like I live in a mountain cabin:

I was anxious to check the chickens. For such a chilly morning, of course they received hot oatmeal delivered to their door:

When I opened their little door, they took one look at the snow and stopped dead in their tracks:

Nobody made it farther than this down the ramp:

So we tried the front door. What's funny about this picture is that whenever I open these two front doors, as a rule, EVERYONE comes flapping out:

Not this time. It was safer to stay inside, apparently:

So now, not only did they receive breakfast delivered, it was pretty much hand-fed. Spoiled chickens:

An oatmeal frenzy:

Finally, after a hearty meal, they decided to venture out. For about 90 seconds. All together. In a pack:

And then they all ran back inside:

One by one:

Until noone was left outside:

Except for Dot:

Silly Dottie. With snow on her back:

Hiiiii Roxy:

Then it was off to get our Christmas tree. There is a beautiful place less than a mile from our house:

It's not a power tool, but it's still sharp. Aidan's in heaven:

Here comes Jim. Following in the car, because he's sick with a cold and feels like crap really awful:

I picked....THIS one. The pretty colored one in the middle:

Just kidding. It's actually dead. That's why it's orange. Poor thing:

This is the one we picked. My strong son sawed it right down for me:

Hmmm...usually I'm better at these type of self-portrait shots. There's me on the left and Aidan's...bottom...on the right:

It was the perfect day for a Christmas tree hunt:


P.S.
As expected, due to the weather, the city and surrounding areas have almost completely shut down. We're *so* not used to snow and cold here in the west. Aidan has repeatedly measured (with my plastic ruler) and we got (no laughing, please) 2 1/2" inches of snow - total. A couple of hours ago, the Superintendant announced that Portland Public Schools are closed for tomorrow. Snow day! :-)

Things to do before everyone freaks out

It's that time of the year again when I start posting images like these:

This is currently *the* hot topic around here...on every news station, weather site, phone call, and friendly grocery store conversation:

Oregon has a fairly temperate climate, so when snow is in the forecast and temps are predicted to dip into the teens, Oregonians get nervous. Our local media takes advantage of this and soon every weather bulletin reads of imminent doom:
Chill is coming: are you winterized?
Coldest Weather in Nearly 5 Years Looms
Arctic Blast Bears Down on Region
9 Counties Now Under Advisories or Severe Weather Warnings

Being a small skeptic (and because our weather forecasters can be so terribly wrong), I tend to live by the "believe it when I see it" model, however, I also believe it's good to be prepared.

Preparation for me comes in the form of my personal priority list of things that need to be done prior to severe weather. An example of these things are:

Wash warm socks. I like warm feet:

Drain barn hose and shut off barn water for the winter:

Move Walter the wonder rabbit:

...from the way-too-cold barn:

...to the (warmer and closer) garage:

Lay down extra pine bedding for warmth in coop:

Get Vaseline ready (to prevent frostbite on chicken combs and wattles) if temps drop suddenly:

Put out extra scratch for chicken energy to keep warm:

Put up ceramic heat lamp in coop, just in case (I'm a nervous chicken mom):

Gather kindling for fireplace. Not nearly as much fun without the donkeys:

Make cookies. With extra dark chocolate chips:

Go outside with Jim after dark and fall over each other trying to turn off the outside water spigots:

And finally, sprain ankle. Yeah. Though, this wasn't on my original list - I added it on. I cleverly fell into one of those ugly potholes (the ones I've been griping to everyone about for a week) while trying to retrieve my garbage can in the dark:

If something is there, I will be the first one to fall into it, over it, or down it. That's just the kind of gal I am.

It's hard to tell from this shot, but it's turning greenish-yellow and I have no ankle. It's more of a cankle (no differentiation between calf and ankle):

Fortunately the swelling has gone down now to where I can pull my boots on and get around the property. Things are just taking a bit longer to get done.

"What can I do to help?" Bippity is always the first to lend a hand:

She ran away when I asked her to carry me.

It's hard being hen-pecked

This is my pretty girl, Dot. She's a White-Crested Black Polish hen.

Look at that beautiful head of feathers:

This is how the hens of this breed are meant to look...a snow-white, fluffy head of feathers:

..and a touch of black brow feathers for stunning effect:

Dotty has always been my special gal. When you see her, it's evident that she is a bit... challenged. She's smaller, twitchier, and more excitable than the other hens. Sometimes she does really goofy things that attract the attention of the other hens. These behaviors started when she was barely more than a few weeks old (read about Dot's early months here.) I attribute these behaviors partially to her being a specialty breed and partially because she may have some developmental issues. Bottom line, though, this gal is different and chickens in general don't like different.

Unfortunately, I have already had to deal with a situation like this before. You may recall that Dot's brother, Pip, (read Pip's story here and here) was picked on by the hens, but then was also being beaten up by my dominant rooster, Roopert. Ultimately, Pip had to be rehomed.

So when I went to let the chickens out and found Dotty like this, I was horrified:

She had done so well, for so long, to avoid any pecking, I was shocked to see her:

I've heard that chickens will peck another chicken to death if blood is visible. I think the only thing that saved Dot was her flightiness and the fact that she only stands still when she roosts:

I couldn't tell yet how wounded she was, so I put her in the utility sink and washed her off as best I could. It wasn't as bad as I had feared:

Then I used some baby shampoo and a Q-tip:

..to clean her up a bit more:

Roxy, my pup, was worried about Dot (and why she was sitting in my lap on the bathroom floor). She really likes the chickens:

Now I could see the extent of the pecking. Those big mean hens of mine really did a number on her:

Sniff, sniff, sniff:

After all the excitement, Dot napped in my lap:

Then came the blowdryer. She didn't mind the noise at all and seemed to enjoy the warmth:

No damage to her eye, thankfully. Looks like just the hair follicles were pecked:

On the bright side, it kind of looks like she had a trim. She had been having a hard time seeing through all those feathers. Now she can see just fine:

She spent one night in the 5-star Critter Farm Chicken Hotel (a.k.a. dog carrier in the laundry room) with some special chicken vitamin water and a bowl of oatmeal mixed with layer feed:

And went back to the coop the next day.

Poor Dot. There's a reason those chickens books recommend not mixing specialty breeds with bigger, hardier breeds.