Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Jake's house and other photos

This is the kind of yard I'd like to have. Pesticide and fertilizer in one efficient package that also lays eggs. Not that this one can lay eggs. It's a rooster. But he does have a lady friend.

I keep going by to see my friend Jake, the owner of this chicken and this yard, but he's never home. He's got the ultimate lifestyle in many ways, as far as I'm concerned. Jake lives in the thick of town - he can walk to Jack's Corner and First Carolina Deli on Spring Garden Street. He could even walk to Bestway on Walker Avenue if he didn't mind lugging his groceries home that far.

A lot of Jake's food comes from the back of his lot. He's building a sauna to the left just out of the picture and there's a hellacious stack of firewood stacked along the fence you see - it's out of view to the right.

I can't believe the size of those chard leaves. Double click on the garden photo to enlarge it and get the full effect.

As you can see, Jake also has some chickens in his yard. They eat the bugs from the garden and provide friendly company while he's out there working. He gets a few eggs out of the deal, too.

Jake gets attached to his chickens.

Which is unfortunate, because characters like this one here keep picking them off. Nothing like rounding the fence to find a hawk standing in the remains of your favorite fowl.

But I don't think this one is the guilty party, because it lives in Fisher Park and probably lives off baby squirrels or something.

Activity was heavy in the beehive next to his front porch.

One night we were eating dinner on the porch and insomniac bees kept flying out to bounce around the porch light. Jake suddenly leaned over and said, "Hey, is there a bee on my head?"

Sure enough, there was. It was meandering around, exploring Jake's cranium, and it appeared to be too interested in the adventure to want to leave soon.

"Yes," I told Jake. He told me to take a deep breath and blow the bee off his head. At first I refused. "It'll sting you," I said. But he insisted. "If you blow really hard on it, it'll slide right off." I did as he requested. The bee didn't budge, but I saw its little hind end dip to make contact with Jake's skull. The whining commenced pretty soon after that.

These baby swallows were not feeling photogenic. They were creating a ruckus, but the minute I started taking pictures they hunkered down and got quiet. I guess it was rude of me to use a flash on them.

They live under a Wendover Avenue bridge. They're swallows, and their parents flock around with a bunch of other swallows there. They all make nests out of mud and they're feisty - they like to dive-bomb the heads of visitors.

I include this next photo because it shows the phenomenal amount of shit these birds can produce. They can make another nest out of that pile of doo.

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