By the time this article crosses your doorstep, the proverbial groundhog is getting set to see, or not see, its shadow.
But here at the farm it has been cold, cold and colder. My personal thoughts on the matter would question the sanity of any creature wanting to stick its nose out, shadow or no shadow, when the weather is so cold and blustery.
When the weather dropped far below zero on the Fahrenheit scale, with the wind chill accenting greatly, my father had an expression that explained it succinct, sufficient and to the point, but I have editor’s sanction to cope with. Suffice it to say that I am glad I don’t own any brass monkeys in danger of having their masculine appendages drop off.
Meanwhile, out in my well-insulated, large thermopaned birdie bungalow, things are warm and bright and progressing along very well. As a matter of fact, with their song and bird chatter, along with the radio softly playing country and western in the background, I find it a very satisfying place to bide a few hours each day.
As a point of interest, I have over 60 cages that I add feed and change the water in daily. This may sound to some like tedious work, but it is broken up into three two-hour shifts: two in the morning, which encourages me to rise and shine, two just post to my noonday snooze, with the final two prior to lights out at 9pm.
Having in between times, gives them a break from me, allowing them to chuckle their off-coloured tottering old man jokes away from my earshot and me away from their constant demands for treats every once in a while.
I usually check all the canaries with eggs and young on the first shift. The rest on the second shift, with the 20 or more cages of bantams fed and re-watered just before their bedtime. This allows them to fill their crops as a bedtime snack with enough left over to slacken their hunger until I get off my butt and get out there in the morning.
This may seem to some like work, but when you like what you are doing, time literally flies, no pun intended. The things I do each day seem to keep my weight in check, allowing me to eat what I want, when I want. It gets me outside into the fresh country air for a short walk, six times daily, and saves me both the cost and time of going to a gym and paying the piper to pedal my butt on one of those so-called therapeutic contraptions.
What I do usually pays well for itself, puts a little what I refer to as “mad money” into the pockets of my jeans, and keeps me occupied. Need I say more?
Oh! By the way, folks, if any of you happen to be in the area, would you please let the “Bureau of Bird Count Statistics” know that on Jan. 20, in the year of our Lord, two thousand and thirteen, the world canary population increased by one.
My first canary egg of the season hatched early on that particular morning. Thank you.
Take care, ‘cause we care.’
barrie@barriehopkins.ca
519-986-4105