I think if we end up adopting another Guinea … s/he will be called ‘Sangfroid’ … as a total joke. Seems the last thing the Guineas are is that. What a funny bunch these birds are. Each day I sit with them for about half an hour. It is entertaining! The coop is not a big space. Even so they move as a tight knot. Once I settle in they approach – as I usually come bearing gifts – tonight’s being a new armful of fresh hay. They cautiously approach the pile all the while talking in their sing song voices. And then SWOOSH! Pure pandemonium! Four Guineas take off at once in all directions. Pure confusion … right … that is what a group of Guineas are called. Not sure what set them off. But if one senses trouble they all react. Like snowbirds … only turkey sized!
I on the other hand held my sangfroid overnight. I decided yesterday to gamble that the forcasted freezing rain would come through here. So I did not plow the paddocks or the Bully road on the hillside. I left the snow as a ‘buffer zone’ to soak up the rain. Good choice! That made it much easier to move it all today. Hard crust on snow … not solid ice on packed paddocks. When I went out this morning Darby really let me know how unpleasant it was to try to walk through that crust. Rosie and Bella brayed from the barn. Darby broke through to get to the gate – wincing with each step that broke through to her fetlocks. Somehow my explanation – that I was saving her from having a paddock paved in glare ice – didn’t help any. All was fine by noon. They were running and chasing each other over the hillside to flop into the shelter out front in the sunshine. A lovely day!