I’ve been thinking about, and tinkering with, names lately. When I can’t sleep at 4am, my mind has lots of time to roam. (My ability to sleep somehow has gotten worse over the past year. That’s kinda like a bald guy losing more hair. But I digress.)
I listen to the BBC overnight when I can’t sleep, so I’ve gotten more information than I wanted on the new baby prince. That poor kid had no chance of getting an interesting name. No, he got three plain names. George. Alexander. Louis. What if, deep in his soul, he was really a Dweezil? I hope not. He’s not going to be a very successful monarch if his inner soul channels Frank Zappa.
Another night I thought about weeds. Yes, weeds. My nighttime thoughts are never earth shattering. I’ve been taking iPhone photos of bindweed on my daily walk with Keela. It’s actually quite a beautiful plant. But they’re named “weeds” and we think of them as a nuisance. Maybe we should just let the damn things take over with their beautiful flowers and long green vines. Let’s rename them grass. Sell the lawn mower! Crush the weed whacker!
We spend hours and hours pulling bindweed. Why???
Now, on a less good-lord-you-really-should-get-some-sleep-you-sound-crazy topic…
We’ve finally settled on a name for the baby goat. He is, officially, Jessie Phornau. As in For Now, just like Very Excellent Husband Don named him, except the accent is on the first syllable. Phornau. Jessie Phornau is a beautiful, exotic little man who deserves an exotic name. No boring British monarch name for my goat.
However, we still on occasion call him Jester, Jake Little-J, and Baby. Cuz we can.
My name is Jessie Phornau. Mess with me. I dare you. I double dog dare you.
This name-changing theme does not end there, my friends. Oh, no. I’m re-naming teenage chicks Loretta and Patsy. Those names did not fit their personalities. Not at all. It was a good try, but as they grew up, I realized those name just weren’t working.
After watching them skitter and flitter and dart and dash, and observe there’s never more than a foot between the two of them, they are now Lucy and Ethel. Partners in hilarity.
I don’t think of Patsy Cline or Loretta Lynn as funny.
Here they are practicing for the synchronized skittering competition.
Those of us who have chickens will frequently use the word funny to describe them. And these are two of the funniest chickens around. As they run around the barnyard I swear I can hear them talking to each other.
Psst! She’s looking at us again. Ignore her.
Lucy is smaller and her tail goes STRAIGHT UP. She is quite the show girl. Ethel is a little larger, a little more shy. They are both fearless.
That is some kinda tail, Lucy!
Last week I closed the brooder and put them in the barnyard 24/7. They had been there during the daytime on and off over the past week with no problems.
Night one, they roosted on the window sill of the coop. Looked VERY uncomfortable. Night two, they took their rightful place on the roost. They huddle together but they don’t move. Maybe they think if they’re very still they’ll be invisible. Invisible or not, as far as I can tell nobody is messing with them.
WHAAT??
Welcome to the barnyard, Lucy and Ethel! You’re running with the big girls now!
(Shared at Clever Chicks Blog Hop, Homestead Barn Hop, Backyard Farming Connection Hop, Tuesdays with a Twist, Down Home Blog Home, HomeAcre Hop and Frugal Days Sustainable Ways!)
I love the girls new names and am happy they have taken their place with the big girls without any problems. Jessie is a cutie patootie pie and looks like he has settled in too, yay. I’m sorry sleep is evading you, perhaps it’s something in air? I haven’t been sleeping well for the last month or so which is really strange since I am a HUGE sleeper 🙁
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Ah, I have not slept through the night for 24 years. I don’t have that skill set! On the flip side, I do have lots of time to think about weird things!
I can totally relate – to the not sleeping and to the renaming. My children (all of whom have boring monarch, well actually saints names) are 17, 14, 12, and 9, and I’m still trying on new names or new versions of their actual names. Jack is lucky. He just gets called Jackie. Mary Michael was renamed Nay Nay by her baby brother years ago and it stuck. But recently when she introduced herself to our new pastor, he thought she said Mary Magdalene (he was a bit startled), so I’ve been calling her that. When Catherine Carter was two we almost legally had her named changed to Halley Catherine Carter. It was too expensive to do that, but I did have some of her stuff monogramed with Halley. But that didn’t stick. Now we just call her Kit, Kitty, Or Cat. Finally John Chester goes by Chet, but when he wrestles we call him Johnny C! Don’t even get me started on the animals.
Hahahaha! Love it! Thanks for giving me a laugh with my morning coffee!
I am new to chicken keeping and have been enjoying your blog! I too have to combine a young flock of chicks (seven 4 week olds) with and existing flock (four 15 weeks olds) I have been wondering when it will be ok to do so. They all look at each other through chicken wire now because the brooder box is built right next to the coop where the big girls stay. Sometimes it seems they are all laying next to each other when the big girls and the little ones all snuggle close to the chicken wire partition and right next to each other! I am glad to see it went well for you! I hope I have the same luck.
They’re so close in age, I bet you’ll have no problems at all! Good luck!
I love, love, love, your sense of humor! Your blog is hilarious and I do so look forward to reading it. Lucy and Ethel are great! Good pics too! Keep up the great blog! :o)
Well, I’m blushing! Thanks for the kind words and thanks for stopping by!