I Have Missed You!

At my desk, with my second cup of coffee, and I am thrilled to be having it with all of you.  I have so much to tell you, I'm not sure where to start.  I am sure some of you are a little lost about what's been happening in my world.  Especially if you follow me on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter.  Feel free to click the links below and join the group if you like.

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If you've checked the blog lately, then you know we have been back in The World of Trapping.  Can I just say, I love my chickens?  I do not love the endless string of critters they attract.  Whether it's snakes in my nesting boxes, or possums looking for a chicken dinner, or skunks looking for whatever skunks look for, They wear me out!  I spent a lot of time one summer trapping possums that had taken up residence in my horse hay, also housed in the same barn as my chickens.  This event was not pleasant, and was one I never wanted to repeat.  I devised a plan to stop the onslaught of critters digging under the wall of my barn and moving their families into a nice new home.  I blogged about the beginning of said project years ago.  If you missed it, you can catch up here...

How to Vermin Proof a Pole Barn

It was not fun.  It took a long time.  It was a lot of work, but I managed to get the entire area surrounding my hay storage sealed off.  I buried wire around the whole stinkin' thing.  I also did the same thing around the section of my chicken barn that houses all the baby chicks.  Vermin love the baby chicks.  They are easy prey.  I have since tabled the rest of the project around the rest of the chicken coup.  It hasn't been necessary, and I don't do anything that isn't necessary.

Fast Forward to present times...

I went to put my horse up the other night and close the chicken barn.  There was a skunk roaming around in there with the big chickens.  It was late and I was tired.  I took a different approach this time.  I simply stood in the door way and yelled at the skunk.

"Skunk!"

"You are not welcome here!"

"Now get out!"

I went and put my horse up, and then came back to close the chicken barn.  The skunk was gone.  I was very pleased.

A couple of nights later, the same scenario played out again.  I took the same action.  It worked again.  Then I came out and found this...

MY HAY IS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS WALL!

I put up 170 bales of hay this summer.  I have made a nice dent in it.  The last thing I want is a skunk or something else living in there.  You can clearly see the wire that I spent so much time burying.  This discovery really made me mad.  This is something that will stop all other projects and get my full attention.

THIS WAS WAR!

I set my live trap that very night.  I baited it with a can of Fancy Feast and went to bed.

This is what I discovered the very next day.  While pleased with my catch, this is not the skunk I had seen on previous nights!  The skunk I had seen was your usual black and white variety.  Clearly, this thing is not black and white.

After having a conversation with the Blue Dog Bee Lady down the road, she agreed to come help me relocate this guy.  I don't know what to say?  She loves me?  She's a glutton for punishment?  She's a little crazy?  Just like me?  However, I love her for her bravery!

We met for lunch, you know, because it may be our last meal.  I paid, you know, to ease my guilt in case I get her sprayed by a skunk on our adventure.  Then, we came back to the house and went about loading this little guy up.  It was a little stinkier than I've experienced before, but we walked away scent free.  We did move it to a nice location, free from homes, barns, etc.  While this was awesome, and a bonding experience between friends, the war was not over.

I set another trap, and caught another skunk on the other end of the barn.  

This one, black and white!  

Yay!  

For some reason, I don't have any pictures of the latest catch.  I did call my faithful friend, and in true friend fashion, she was up for another round of Catch and Release!  We did let this one sit in the trap for an extra day before releasing it.  We came to an agreement that this is the better plan.  No stinking this time.  We took the last one to the same location and released it as well.

Could this be the end of this adventure?

No!

I went to the barn yesterday morning and found a new hole dug under the chicken coup wall.

Ugh!

I set two traps last night.  I was certain I would trap my cat because he was very interested in what I was doing.  I tried to catch him several times, but he was on the move.  I left to make a grocery store run, thinking I would check the traps before bed and free my cat if he was locked in one of them.  Also, hoping to teach him a lesson in the process.

I pulled in the driveway, opened the door and my first welcome home was Eau de Skunk!  My next welcome home, Kid came running around the corner wanting inside the house.  I was relieved to find out he wasn't locked in a trap with a skunk, but concerned because there would be no break in the action on my trapping adventure.

I went to the barn this morning.  Something ate the Fancy Feast in one trap and tripped it, but managed to escape.  The second trap still had Fancy Feast, but it also had been tripped and was empty as well.

Apparently, the skunks are now in War Mode as well.  They have upped their game.  It's now my turn to counter.

Game On!

Success or Failure!

I committed to posting on this little blog of mine for the entire month of November, and I almost made it.  I missed the last two days!  I was really bummed about this, but this is the closest I've ever come to actually doing it!  I posted something every day!  Days that were crazy busy!  In the end, we were just having too much fun!

Both the girls came home for the holiday weekend, and it was a packed weekend of events!  They both rolled in on Wednesday evening and the games began.  We stayed up until 2:00 in the morning cooking for Thanksgiving Dinner!  It was fun and there was a lot of chatter and cooking happening.  Our dinner was perfect this year.  I'm not just bragging on the food.  We also had the cutest two year old at our table this year.  He was very entertaining.  He brought his mother and his baby brother, and we had a blast.

My new worker in training.

We took him out to feed the chickens and he was a little hesitant at first.  After dinner, we asked if he wanted to feed them again and he was all over it!  He ran across the yard, calling them up and throwing out bread.  When the bread was all gone, he ran back to the house giggling and wanting more bread!  The girls ended up having an awesome Thanksgiving as well.  I think they ate about a half a loaf of bread!

Friday, we put Thanksgiving behind and went to Ft. Worth to watch the Parade of Lights to kick off the Christmas season. We met everyone at the train station and made our way into the big city.  This time we had two of the cutest two year old's in tow.  This was their first train ride and their first parade!  The weather was brisk, but pleasant, and we had a great time. We finished with dinner and after we made it back home, we stayed up into the wee hours of the morning playing cards. Saturday started out a little slower, but we finished strong with a late night movie with friends.  So again, another late night.

Sunday - I took a long nap!

This week has been a struggle to get going.  I am so far behind on my life, but oh well!  I did celebrate my wedding anniversary yesterday.  The Man in Charge and I decided to have a quiet evening in with take-out!  Some may say, "Boring!" For us, it was perfect!

Today, gulping coffee and trying to get myself together!

Sometimes you reach a point...then have to choose a direction.

Going to let you guys in on a little secret.  

I'm trusting you to keep this just between us.  

We're friends, right?

The name of my farm is CrossRoad Farm.

The little slogan I do my best to tag on everything... 

"Sometimes you reach a point...then have to choose a direction."

It has been with me my whole life.

At first glance, you may think my property is located at a crossroads.  Not hardly.  Or, located in Crossroads, Texas?  Not even close.  When I originally came up with this name, I lived at the end of a long, winding road, on a cul-de-sac.  At present, my property is located on a regular street.  I'm not at the end.  I'm not in the middle.  Just the second house down on the left.  It has never been about location.  It has always been about a state of mind.

Where am I?  
Who am I?
What's happening in my life?  
Where do I want to go?  
How do I want to get there?  
Who do I want to take along for the ride?  
Who am I kicking out of the truck?

It has always been about food to some extent.  I've had a passion for organic gardening since the beginning.  After planting the first seed, and enduring the challenges of nature, organic or natural gardening has been important to me.  My first challenge came when ants took up residence in my garden.  I did what most do.  I went to the store to get some ant killer. Ants can be mean, and I wanted them gone.  The problem came when I started reading the labels.

Ha!  My label reading affliction started long ago!  

I couldn't find anything that I wanted near my food, or the food I wanted to feed my children.  I was also going through a lot of bad stuff in my life.  Bad relationships.  Bad self-image.  Bad decision making.

The name just grew out of the dysfunction.

I wanted to start my own organic farm all the way back in the late 90's.  I was a member of the Texas Organic Grower's Association.  I subscribed to a ton of publications, like Acres, USA.  I even went to an organic gardening convention in Austin Texas.  It was a dream.  Then, life happened.  Jobs changed.  Relationships changed.  A plague of grasshoppers moved in.  I had to make decisions for my family.  My dream was moved to the back burner, and life moved front and center.  I'm not complaining.  I just had to do what I had to do.

Fast-forward to the beginning of this blog.  Completely different life.  Completely different relationships.  Completely different goals.  Completely different location.  Same dream.  Trying not to disrupt everyone's life in my household, I started small.  I had fun.  Crazy things happened.  Then, a drought and a second plague of grasshoppers that tried to rival the first I'd seen.  When out of the chaos, a new love happened.  My bees!  I really do love my bees.  It was unsuspecting.  It was challenging.  It's very rewarding.  Even though it's crazy hard at times, I love it.  I also love honey, and I feel very good about the crop I produce.

Yet, I'm still standing at that same CrossRoad!

A lot of things have changed in my life.  Life does that.  The only constant is change.  Whether you refuse to see it, and the world is changing around you.  Or, you grab on to it, and see where it takes you.  There is, and always will be CHANGE. There is change ahead.  I can feel it.  I can smell it.  I can even taste it a little.  I don't know what it is, and because I am controlling by nature, it frustrates me a little.  I like to have a plan.  I like to have a direction.  I don't like standing in the middle of a CrossRoad waiting to figure it out, but I am.  I'm just hanging out in the middle of the road.  Looking from one direction to the next.  Turning in a circle.  Trying to decide which path is the right one.

The facts are, I don't have enough information at this point to choose.

I've been here for a while.  Trying to define myself.  Trying to consolidate who I am.  Trying to wrap it all up in a pretty package.  I think this partly explains why I have been neglecting this blog.  I know I've been busy, but really, I've just been undecided.  I've been trying to define this space.  Trying to understand who I am and what I want to put out there about myself.  I don't have those answers, and I finally understand why.

I don't fit inside a pretty little package! 

I can not be wrapped up in paper with a pretty bow on top.  It doesn't work.  You can't shove me inside a gift bag with tissue paper either.  I'm that annoying present that can't be wrapped in a manner to make a presentable gift.  There is not a box I fit in, and even if you find a box large enough, it will be one larger than the paper is wide.  You're going to have to use two sheets to cover all the sides.  There's not enough ribbon to cover all the seams and hide the truth.

Not going to happen!

Today, of all days, this is finally okay with me.  I can't define, or redefine, this blog.  This blog is about me.  I'm a retired stay-at-home mom.  I'm an empty-nester.  I'm a wife.  I'm a Christian.  I'm a sinner.  I'm a gardener.  I'm a beekeeper.  I'm a do-it-your-selfer.  I'm a horse owner.  I'm a dog lover.  I'm a cat lover.  I'm the egg lady.  I'm the bee lady.  I'm a city girl. I'm a country girl.  I'm a rebel.

I'm all over the place!

If you come here to learn about bees?  Keep coming.  You'll learn a thing or two.  If you really want to learn about bees? Contact me.  I teach beekeeping.  If you want to learn about gardening?  You're going to have to dig in the archives.  We've had terrible weather and it has not been successful for a long time.  If you want to talk about raising kids?  I know a thing or two.  Shoot!  I'll do my best to answer.  If you want to read crazy stories that give you a little insight into who I am?  Check back daily.  You never know what you'll find.  I don't fit into a category, and today, I'm no longer going to try.

Oddly, I'm breathing a little easier.  

Now I feel better.

Chicken or Bee?

What's worse?

Chickens or Bees?

Saw this a while ago...

It actually blew out of the top of a tree along the creek.

Then I found this...

I didn't scream.  I didn't freak out.  I simply turned to go get the hoe.  It's been a while since I have had to deal with one of these guys, but I knew I could handle it.  The weird part came when I stepped in to take this picture.  This stupid thing decided to raise its tail and rattle it at me.

In all the snakes I have killed, I have never had one do this before.

This is where I may have freaked out a little.  I called the Man in Charge and explained what I was seeing.  He explained that I should leave the building and lock up all the animals

Then what?

This thing gets away and I find it another day?

I have a policy when it comes to snakes.  They must be dealt with right away.  I don't want to be peaking around every corner and looking over my head and freaking out every time I am in the barn!

After a short discussion, the Man in Charge asked me what I wanted him to do?  I explained that I was going to stand there and keep an eye on it, and I wanted him to come home and kill it.

We are talking at least an hour here people.

He didn't think that was practical, but said he would do his best.  Once I got off the phone, I stood there for all of about three minutes.  Then, I took a good look around that barn.  There is nothing about that barn that I hold any special feelings for.  It is a piece of crap basically.  It has served its purpose, and it still does, but, by no means, is it a great building.

I ran to the house and got my shotgun and six shells.

I don't know why I got six shells.

It just seemed like a good amount to grab.

I ran back into the barn and loaded my gun.  I put it to my shoulder, and took aim on the box containing the snake.  Then, it dawned on me, I have not shot my gun in a long time.  I clicked the safety on and ran outside to an old wood pile.  I clicked the safety off, put my gun to my shoulder, and took aim at a spot on a log.

Kaboom!

I have a full choke on that gun, and I felt I needed to know how big an area I was working with when it came to aiming at my new friend.  I clicked the safety back on my gun and ran back into the barn.  I then took aim once more, only to realize if I missed and the thing came after me, I would be running through an obstacle course to get out of the barn.  I stopped and moved a feeder and removed an obstacle at the doorway.  Coming back to my spot, I clicked the safety off and took aim once more.

I just kept thinking, "I can't believe I am doing this!"

I took my first shot.  I am sure the first one hit him in the head.  His body started to curl up in the middle, and I shot him again.  I then reloaded my gun.  He was still moving at this point.

What the hell?

I shot him again.  After the third shot, it was obvious that his movements were involuntary.

The photos below are graphic.

When I picked him up, egg was running out of every hole.

The chickens nest box survived.

I did blow out a chunk of the 4X4 support post behind it.  Not really enough to cause a structural issue, but a chunk anyway you look at it.

I then had a friend come out and look at my snake.  He said it was just a chicken snake and they like to pretend to be a rattlesnake as a defense.

I bet he wishes he could rethink that decision.

The bigger lesson here -

I can defend my animals if I need to.

I am a much better shot under pressure than I have ever been in practice.

I have threatened all my chickens, if they don't straighten up and stop letting just anybody come in and hang out, I will sell them all and buy more bees!

The Real Story...

Okay - Girls and Boys!  If you follow along at all, you know we had a small contest.  It was an exercise in imagination.  I posted several pictures and asked you to come up with the story.  The day you were describing was a really long day.  From time-to-time, it gets crazy around here.  So crazy I don't believe everything that happens.  Which is really crazy because I am here, and I walk each and every step.  I told you I would give you the full story, and here it is.

Ladies - there is going to be some terminology that is going to bore you to death.  Things like:  splice, vice-grips, channel locks, threaded fittings, Tephlon tape...just skip over that.  I am only putting it in here because I know a few boys that will be reading, and going, "Yep.  That's what you do.  That's how it goes.  Yes.  You have to have that."

To be fair, let's start the day before.  It started off wonderfully.  You can catch up on the events.  Go ahead. I'll wait.

Click HERE - Man It's Cold Out There!

After having an awesome start to the day, it turned ugly on me very quickly.

My barn cat, Kid - Billy the Kid,  has decided that he wants to be a house cat.  He has taken over the mud room.  He spends his time in deep, coma-like naps or teasing the dog under the door.  He does everything very innocently.  I mean, just look at him.

At some point on Tuesday, he started feeling bad.  He left a few things on every, single rug in the mud room and had stopped eating.  I just assumed he ate something that did not agree with him, and he would work it out.  I was not too concerned because I know what he eats and I believe he has an iron stomach.  I feed him Fancy Feast and Cat Lover's Soup for the Soul cat food.  He supplements his diet with the heads of many things.  I know this because he leaves me little decapitated bodies around the barn.

Nasty.

Because Kid was not feeling well, he had spent the day running in and out.  One minute he meowed to go out.  The next he meowed to come in.  It was back and forth.  He finally went out and just disappeared.  I thought he probably went to one of his usual spots to take a nap.

I was trying to wind up a very busy day.  I was in the process of cooking some bone broth.

click HERE to find out why - excluding #4

I was also in the process of trying out a new soup recipe for dinner.

Curried Cream of Broccoli Soup

(I reduced the curry to about 1 tsp in this recipe.  I am not a huge fan of curry, but it was okay.)

So with pots full of liquids on the stove, the Man in Charge came in from his day with a scared look on his face.

What's for dinner?

We talked for a few minutes about our day.  Then, I told him to keep an eye on things because I wanted to go outside and find the cat before it got really dark.  I knew it was going to be really cold and I didn't want him sick and freezing outside.  Plus, if he felt really bad, I was certain he would stay hunkered down where ever he was, and I did not want to be wondering around late at night looking for him.

On my way across the back yard, I noticed something on the other side of the creek.  It was Deuce.  He was laying down.  He was upright, but down and that is not typical.  I switched gears from the cat to the horse and made my way across the creek.  He stayed down until I got over there.  Then he popped up and stood in place until I reached him.  I asked him what he was doing.  He looked at me.  I told him we didn't have time for any messing around and he should get back to the barn so I could keep an eye on him.

He blazed a trail to the barn.  Running ahead of me.  Then, turned and waited for me to get there.

I closed the pen outside of the barn and turned on the lights so I could see him from the house.  My plan was to keep an eye on him while I finished dinner.  I opened the door to his stall, and before I could get out of there, he went inside his stall and dropped down.

Crap.

Deuce has not had a bout of colic.  Not once in his entire life.  This looked like colic.  He had a look on his face like he didn't understand what was happening.  He kept looking at his sides.  His belly was hurting, and he did not know what to do about  it.  This was new to him.

I ran inside.  Turned off the soup.  Grabbed the Man in Charge and our evening began.  As you read, it was after 10:00 when the vet left.  My horse was resting comfortably.  He had been sedated.  Given pain medication.  A tube had been run up his nose, down to his belly, and we had pumped him full of mineral oil. The only thing left to do - wait!

And go eat!

My Full-timer had come home, and in the madness, finished dinner for me.  I said I wasn't a fan of curry, but I was hungry.  I ate, and it was good.  It was warm.  That was important.  I probably won't ever make the soup again.  If I did, I wouldn't put curry in it.

We took a short break, and then the Man in Charge headed back to the barn to check on our guy.  This was when we realized our other horse was not feeling well.  She started trying to go down in her stall.  We called the vet.  Luckily, I had enough medication on hand to get her under control.  We were just hoping that we did not need to pump her full of mineral oil.

I can do a lot of things.

Tubing a horse with mineral oil - not one of them.

I want to learn...but not on my own horses.

Is that rude?

You see, if you take a wrong turn going down and end up in the lungs, dead horse.

Well, we had several discussions that night regarding what could be causing our problem.

One horse with colic - unfortunate.
Two horses with colic - environmental.

Going to bed at 3:30 in the morning, fully dressed, does not promote restful sleeping.  I flew out of bed the next morning and ran to the barn to make sure everyone was still standing.  Laying eyes on them, and sighing with relief, I had a busy day ahead of me.  My first plan of action was to go to the feed store and buy some shavings that were not cheap and not dusty.  The dust in our barn had reached epidemic proportions.  While I would have bet you the dust would have caused respiratory issues instead of colic issues, I wanted to get it ruled out as a possible trigger.  The stalls were dusty.  The hay was dusty.  Their water was constantly getting dirty.  Everything was dry.  Possibly this was part of our problem.  It was certainly something that both horses have in common.  Their feed diets are completely different, but as a precaution, I have removed all processed feeds.

Hay Only!

I knew that my Full-timer was going to need my truck that day.  So I ran through the shower and headed out to the feed store early.  Running to the truck was when I noticed this:

The white ribbon you see whipping around in the breeze is electric fence tape.  No, it does not hold anything together.  It is a nylon strip that has wire running through it.  It is used in electric fencing (especially for horses) because it is highly visible.  This photo is along the back fence line of our pasture.  You see, my horses live on the right.  My neighbors horses live on the left.  I have a stallion.  They have two mares.  One of their mares is really young, and she likes my stallion.  She vocalizes her admiration often.  This makes it necessary to put a little distance between them.  He is a good horse, and he has never been bred, but we all have our limits.  This fencing has been taking a beating.  I didn't realize how much so, but the wind has switched from north to south and back again, at 30, 40, 50 mph, repeatedly this winter.  It just simply ripped in two pieces.

Now, I had a mental list of my own things to do on this morning - this was not one of them.  On this particular day, the wind was cruising above 25 mph with gusts over 35 mph.  I ran to the feed store and grabbed what I needed for the day.  I came back and unloaded my truck before my Full-timer needed to leave.  Then, I put on my coveralls and all my gear and headed to the back of the property to address this mess.

When was the last time you had a good game of tug-of-war?

This fence tape is only two inches wide.  At 30 mph, it was whipping me around like a rag doll.  That stuff was blowing over the neighbors fencing.  Their horses were freaking out.  They were doing their best to stay as far away as possible, and I could understand why.  Once I laid hands on it, I was a little scared.  I gathered the pieces together, and quickly saw the problem.  Then, I quickly assessed my capabilities of dealing with this alone.  Zero.  There was not a single thing I could do to fix this.  It was not humanly possible to get this stuff put back in place and then pull it together to splice it.

Not happening.

My next plan was to try and gather each end up, then tie it down somehow.  This would keep it from blowing across the fence and causing issues for anyone else.  I would have to enlist a lot of help to get this fixed, and it would not be on a windy day.  Sorry to disappoint some of you.  I know you have been holding your breath, waiting for me to get to the part where I zapped myself on the electric fence.  I was awake enough to turn the fence off before I started.

I finally managed to get everything under control, but it took up a lot of my morning.  With the fence tied down, I headed back across the creek to the barns.  The first task on my list - repair the water leak in the chicken barn.  You see, I raised about 30 guineas and at some point they decided to peck all the insulation off of the water spigot inside the barn.

I do not know why.

Then, during one of our many freezing nights, the pipe busted.

See.
Insulation at the top.
Insulation at the bottom.  
Nothing in the middle.

Okay.  So, it didn't help that I must have turned the red valve off, turned the water off to the barn, and did not drain the water between the valve and the actual spigot.

Ugh.

It doesn't matter who's fault it is.  I needed water.  I was going to have to fix it to get the water back on to both barns.  My goal was to strip the stalls in the horse barn and get as much of the dust out of there as I could.  Water was a necessity.

To start, I cut the pipe just below the red valve.  Then I cut the pipe just below the spigot.  Then, I grabbed a coupling I had from previous repairs and glued the thing back together.  For some reason, I was so confident this would solve my problem, I re-wrapped the whole thing with insulation before turning the water on, and testing it out.

My spigot was leaking on the top.

I ran back and shut the water off.  Not to worry, though.  I was not going to let this beat me.  (Sorry.  There are no pictures of the first repair.)  My next plan - unwrap everything and cut the spigot off the top of the pipe.

This is when the search began.

What parts could I find to repair this thing?  After searching through more fittings than any one person should have, I found a valve and a 90 degree fitting.  If you look closely, you will see that this is a gas valve.  

Yes.  I knew this going in.  

I don't know why I had it.  I did not care.  It was on another fitting, and I had to get them apart before I could use it.  This involved a vice grip and some channel locks.  You will be proud to know that I had not used one curse word up to this point.  I had my headphones on.  I had my music on shuffle.

You would not believe the variety of music that I can listen to in one afternoon.

I was singing.
Out loud.
I did not care.

Some may look at my feeble attempts at repairing this leak as rigging things.  I prefer to look at it as MacGyvering things.

On a side-note:  Had I been MacGyver on this day, all I would have needed was a compass, a transistor radio, and a bag of fertilizer, and I would have just blown the whole thing up!

On a super-side-note:  Top Ten MacGyver tricks you can use in your everyday world.  Click HERE.

I know I am all over the place.  

Is everyone still with me?

Don't worry.

Do what you need to do to catch up.

I'll wait.

On with the plan...I removed the valve from the old fitting and found a threaded fitting that I could glue onto the 90.  Once assembled, and yes, I used Teflon tape, this is what I had.

Hard to tell from the photo, but the valve is doing it's job.  It is the threaded fitting behind it that is leaking.  I ran and grabbed the channel locks and tried to tighten it.  Each time, the stream shooting out of the pipe just switched locations.

I ran and shut the water off.

Again.

My next plan.  I cut the valve and the fitting off the pipe.  I went back and rummaged through all of the fittings again.  I did not have another valve.  I did not have another threaded fitting.  I found a cap.  I could just cap the line and put this project off for another day.  This would not solve my water problem in the chicken barn, but it would let me have water in the horse barn.

I went back to the barn.  I put primer on the pipe and on the cap.  I put glue on the pipe and on the cap.

The cap did not fit on the pipe. 

I may have muttered a word or two at this time.

I got up from the ground.  I walked around a bit.  I thought.  I went back and looked through all the fittings AGAIN!  I walked around a bit more.  Then something hit me like a post driver on the top of my head!

I have about five water hoses that are 50 feet or longer.  
I can easily get water - where ever I want it - from my house.

I put a piece of duct tape over the pipe to keep the dirt and debris out.  This could wait.

So stupid!

I grabbed all the garbage from my little repair endeavor, and headed to the other barn to get started on what was really important.

I still had a pretty good attitude.

Even though I had just lived through a serious blond moment!

Then, I looked up and saw this:

I am serious when I say the wind has been brutal.  It has been so abrasive and abusive and destructive. For about five seconds, I considered grabbing the ladder and the hammer.

Nah.

Instead, I headed to the house to drag some hoses out and put them together so I could have water in the barn.

Duh.

So stupid.

I put Deuce out in the pen.  Then started the daunting task of stripping his stall.  All of the dirty shavings went out to the pile.  The cleaner shavings went to the chicken coop.  No sense in wasting them.  I drug the hose inside the barn and sprayed the stall down several times during the process.  It didn't make much sense to stir up even more dust while trying to remove it.  Once the stall was empty, I sprayed it down and swept it out. It was a lot of dust.  I felt like I had eaten buckets of dirt.  I was coughing.  I was blowing my nose.  It was bad.

Even if this has zero bearing on the colic issue at hand - it needed to be done.

I washed his buckets.  I placed a huge rubber tub on the ground to keep any hay off the ground.  I gave him a 50 lb. salt block to encourage him to drink more water.  I put down four bags of the best smelling shavings I have used in a long time.  I mean, I worked.  I had the same to do in the other stall, and when that was all over, I drug all the hay in from the hay barn.  I was starting to run on fumes.  I stacked the hay.  I rummaged through every bit of tack we own until I found hay nets.  I used the hay nets to dunk their hay in water, in an attempt to rinse any dust from it before I gave it to them.  

I did every-single-thing I could think of to make sure they were eating clean food.

By this time, we were into the evening hour.  I had raked, sprayed, swept, cleaned, lifted, hauled, moved, glued, cut, stretched. pulled, you name it, and people were getting home and wanting something to eat.  Dinner had not been on my radar.  The Man in Charge made it home, and we met in the kitchen.  His first act, open the pantry and simultaneously ask,

What's for dinner?

Why are there sardines in here?

Who's eating that?

Why?

You're not eating that?

Are you going to sneak those into something we eat?

This made me start laughing.  You see.  A couple of night's before, I had gone shopping with my Full-timer.  I stopped on the canned meat isle.  She was talking about something, and I am certain she thought I was going to buy tuna when I said,

I suppose if you are going to eat sardines, skinless and boneless would be the way to go?

This freaked her out.  Rapid fire questioning:

Sar what?

Who's eating sardines?

Are you really going to eat that?

You're not trying to sneak something in our food are you?

Currently neither one of them believe I am going to eat sardines.

The sardines are still in the pantry.

I've got a quarter that says - both the Man in Charge and my Full-timer freak out when they notice the sardines are gone.

I was still laughing.  The Man in Charge was not laughing.  Then, he turned and noticed:

Remember the bone broth I had started?  Well, I forgot about it.  I guess I turned the burner off, but the pot was still sitting on the stove the next day.  Full of broth and bones.  I have to say, after sitting out all night and all day, not really smelling so great.  I had fished the bones out and rinsed them off.  My thought being that I would give them to the dogs.  Then I dumped the rest of it.  I thought about saving it, but then decided it was probably not worth it.

He was looking slightly horrified.

Then, when I said I needed to run to our local veterinarian's office, and I was thinking I would pick something up for dinner while I was out...everyone jumped on board!

Awesome Idea!

You've worked so hard today.

Ladies - there is a lesson in having sardines in the pantry!

Once the Man in Charge was relieved I wasn't going to try to feed him something gross for dinner, he asked the next question,

What are you going to the vet for?

Remember how this whole thing started?  Kid.  Not feeling well.  Well, he still didn't.  I had given him some Pepcid to calm his stomach down, but no luck.  I had smeared Vaseline on his paw in the event he had a hairball blockage.

I read that they lick the Vaseline off their paw and it lubes up the hairball.

This seemed like a good plan to me.  Due to his extra-curricular diet, he has hacked up some pretty nasty stuff in the past.  He did not like it at all.  The facts are, nothing was working.  He had not eaten for two days and he was starting to get pretty lethargic.  As tired as I was, if I hadn't been looking for the cat in the first place the other night, I would not have found my horse.  If I had not found my horse when I did, there is no telling how late we would have been up.  Not-to-mention, the longer the horse suffers, the worse things can get.  Besides, I have different vets for all these guys.  I might as well be sharing the wealth, right?

This is Kid.

Please note how muscular his thighs are.

The white, fluffy stuff in his abdomen is his small intestine.  If he were to have a blockage, it would have been there.

Whew.

Dodged a bullet.

The dark line in the center of his abdomen, is his large intestine.  My vet informed me that it was dark because it was either full of diarrhea or gas.  Impossible to tell by the film.  He checked his bladder (it is on there somewhere), and it was full, but felt fine.  He gave him two shots.  One to help calm his stomach.  The other to help with the pain.  His opinion, he should be fine in a couple of days or sooner.

We load this guy up in his carrier.  We put him in the truck.  We go across the street and grab dinner.  Then we head home.

One problem.

By the time we get home, Kid has relieved his bladder inside his carrier.  He was laying on a bed, but that just made it worse.  His whole belly was drenched in the foulest smelling urine.  He was a little wobbly and very sad.  We couldn't just leave him like that.  I grabbed my Full-timer and we devised a plan.

I started filling the sink in the bathroom with warm water and baby shampoo.  A little bubble bath, if you will. The plan -  I would grab him and hold him suspended over the sink.  My Full-timer would grab a cloth and wash his under side.  Then we would do our best to rinse him.  There was just one down-side running through my mind.  You know, beside the fact that we were going to bathe the cat.

That large intestine.

I looked my Full-timer dead in the eye.  The conversation went like this:

Me:  If this cat poops all over the place, I am going to throw up.

Her:  If you throw up, I'm going to throw up.

Me:  Well, we may have one heck of a mess to clean up by the time this is all over.

Being the brave little troopers that we are, we plunged right in.  I grabbed the cat.  She grabbed a hand towel.  She started bathing.  At precisely the same moment, Kid let loose with some really toxic gas.  Only I didn't know it was gas.  You see, at the exact same time the smell hit my nose, a rush of warm, wet, ran down my leg.

I flipped out.

I almost dropped the cat.

It took a few seconds before we all realized that my Full-timer had just been a little over-zealous in her washing, and had dumped warm, soapy water down my leg.  We laughed hysterically.  We finished with the cat.  We laughed more.  We dried the cat.  We were still laughing.  My sides hurt from laughing.  I can not express the exhaustion I was feeling by the end of this day.  I have never loved my bed more in my life.  The real crazy part - It's was just another day, like any other day.  

I wouldn't trade it for the world.

The End.

We Survived...

the weather, that is.

It is really cold and we did have some precipitation, but nothing debilitating.  This is good because I have enough things in my life that are doing their best to be debilitating.  Saturday was very busy.  I had to get caught up on some house hold chores. *yuck*  Plus, get a grip on what I was behind on.  This is what you have to do when a large part of your week is diverted to emergency duties.  No worries.  All is still possible and I managed to maintain a positive attitude.

My positive attitude had started first thing that morning.  This may seem trivial, unless you understand the seriousness of colic, because let me tell you, it is serious.  Horses in this world die from colic on a daily basis, but the fact that I rolled out of bed on Saturday morning and tore into a sprint for the barn should tell you something.  Upon arriving, gasping for air, I quickly celebrated the piles of poop both my horses had deposited in their stalls.  This made my morning start out something like this...

Most definitely, had you been present, you would have seen me bustin' a few of these very moves, right down the isle-way of my barn.  I danced on over to collect the rake.  Then, I danced on out to collect the wheel barrow.  Then, I danced back in and proceeded to scoop up every bit of poop like it was gold.

Money in my pocket!

After that, things got really crazy.  I cleaned.  I laundered.  I cooked.  I rearranged.  I made a ton of bee syrup.

Well, not a ton, but almost four gallons.  The problem with bee syrup.  You can not help from making a mess.  You end up with sugar on the floor.  Syrup all over the counter.  Syrup on the mixer.  Syrup on anything that touches anything.

Crazy.

I fully intended on reporting these facts to you on Sunday, but my day did not start out so good.  For one thing - COLD.  I put on my sweats, and then I pulled on my coveralls.  I headed out to the barn.  Did a little jig for poop!  Sorry, it may be a daily thing from now on.  Took care of the horses and proceeded to the chicken barn.  I had a heat lamp bulb out and I wanted to check their water and feed status.  It ended up not being just a bulb thing, but a light thing.  Not to worry, I had an extra light.  It was just a matter of getting it into place.  I filled feeders.  Water was good.  All I needed to do was gather eggs and head inside.

One problem - I forgot my egg basket.

This would normally not be a huge issue, but I had other things to carry as well.  Stopping to think about how bad an idea this was, I slowly started slipping eggs into my front pocket.  There seemed to be room, but my concern was with any possible bending that I may need to do.  As luck would have it, there were several times when I needed to bend at the waist.  Each time, holding my breath and moving very slowly, I bent.  Each time, doing my best to keep me leg as straight as possible on that side.  Each time, success!

No broken eggs! 

I made it all the way to the kitchen.  As I was explaining the above to my Full-timer, I was reaching in my pocket to retrieve said eggs.  The first one I grabbed busted.  In my shock, trying to keep my hand closed around the gooey mess that was exploding in my pocket, I couldn't get my closed fist out of my pocket.  This created a bit of a panic and more mess.  By the time I got the bulk of the broken egg out of my pocket, plus the other eggs, the yolk had soaked through to my sweats.

Dang it!

My coveralls went straight into the washer.

This did not ruin my day.

I managed to have a relaxing Sunday.

Fast forward to this morning...I roll out of bed.  I stumble to the laundry room to find my sweat pants from the previous morning.  My Full-timer was nice enough to wash them for me.  Then, I made my way to the kitchen to fill some buckets with warm water.  I wanted to take them with me to the barn.  I have been hauling buckets with each trip.  I noticed a large box of spinach on the table that had been meant to go to the chickens.  I had asked my Full-timer to carry it out there on one of her trips yesterday, but she looked at me all confused as to how she was supposed to carry two five gallon buckets of water and a box of spinach?  I told her to leave it - I would get it later.

Well...24 hours later and it was still there.  I grabbed my two five gallon buckets of water and made my way to the door.  Then I stopped, grabbing the box of spinach and tucking it under my arm.  Once I had it secured, I reached down and grabbed both my buckets.  I headed across the back yard.  As I approached the barn, I was thinking to myself that it really had not been hard to carry all of it.  I was already relishing in the fact that I was going to be able to brag a little when I got back to the house.  It was at precisely this moment that I hit a small patch of ice on a slight downward slope that leads to the door I wanted to enter.  I slid a little, staying up right.  Then - it all went haywire.  I was slipping and sliding and skidding - swinging my buckets wildly while trying to save every drop of water inside them - while squeezing my box of spinach under my left arm.  Without the box of spinach the whole adventure would be pointless.  By the time I finally came to a stop, I was on the ground, on one knee, other leg out in an attempt to do the splits like Bruno Mars during the Half-Time show!  I only had a half a bucket of water left.  I was wearing the other bucket and a half of water, but I was still holding my box of spinach.

I am still trying to decide if I count this as a success or failure.

Are you ready for Christmas?

I have to say, earlier today, I was sort of surprised at how much stuff I have done.  It doesn't feel right.  You know what I mean?  It kind of has me worried that I must be forgetting something.  Something big.  I keep looking at my list, and as far as I can tell, I only have a few things left.  I have to wrap up my cookie making.  Make some hot cocoa mix.  I need to wrap a few gifts.  Then, go do some grocery shopping on Monday.  I guess that may sound like a lot, but to me it is totally manageable.  Can things really be going that smoothly?

Who am I kidding?

Nothing goes that easy.

You know why?

I went to the chicken barn tonight and found a dead guinea.  I didn't see any marks or bites on the thing.  It sort of appears that the little thing had a heart attack or possibly ran head first into something and broke it's neck.  Weird.  I looked around and quickly spotted the neighbor's cat in a panic.  You see, the cat couldn't get out because I was in the way.  I promptly shut the door behind me and grabbed the broom.  I may, or may not, have beat the crap out of that cat with my broom.  I can say that he made it to the door and was headed for home the last time I saw him.  After catching my breath, I went about filling feeders and gathering eggs, only to turn around and have my heart jump out of my chest.

A skunk.

Hiding in the corner.

Can this be happening?

I don't know how I didn't get sprayed while I may, or may not, have beat the crap out of the neighbor's cat with a broom.  I am certain there were some words spoken rather loudly while that incident was, or wasn't, taking place.  I mean, I seriously dodged a bullet on that one.  After regaining my composure, I locked my chickens and guineas up in the main section of their coop.  I then proceeded to bait and set the trap.  I then placed the trap in the same section as the skunk.  Feeding the rope that I keep tied to the trap outside, and securely attaching it to the latch on the door.

Guess what I get to add to my list of things to do?

I hope things aren't taking a turn here.

What a Week!

This past one has been a killer.  We had a trip out of town.  We had a massive ice storm.  I had some place to be every single day of this week, which is so not me.  I like to be home a little.  I have crap to do.  I can't run around all the time or things start to stack up or back up or get messed up or whatever you want to call it.  Then, if that wasn't enough, I ran the local feed store on Friday and Saturday.  BUT WAIT, that's not all!  After all that, I went car shopping with my Full-Timer.  We hit three dealerships after work on Saturday.

whew!

I am poopered out!

Before the storm, I had made time to get the barns ready.  I had filled water tanks, chicken water, added extra shavings to the stalls and to the chicken barn, and hauled in extra bales of hay for the horses.  Well, who knew this crap was going to last for so long.  We had been hauling warm water from the house for the horses.

I know.

Some of you are saying, "What?"

But, it is important for horses to drink water during this crap.  This is prime weather for colic and if you have ever spent a night out in the cold with a colicky horse, you know it is not pleasant.  I may be a slow learner about some things, but for me, this is a no brain-er.  Every time I go out the door, I haul two five gallon buckets of hot water.  I mix it with water from the water tank, and TA DA - spoiled ass horses that drink a lot of water.  After a week it will wear out your elbows - plus I think my arms are a few inches longer - but, it is so worth it.

Any-who-da-lolly!

By Thursday, we were out of hay in the horse barn and the chickens needed their water things filled up.  They have two five gallon water containers and one three gallon container.  I put on all my gear and headed out the door.

Now, mind-you, this is one week after the ice storm hit.

This may be crazy, but chopping the ice with the ax is sort of fun.  I would not want to chop ice in a pond, like what you would do for cattle or something, but this seems relatively safe to me and does help work out some frustrations.

Then, I opened the door to the chicken barn.  The girls and the guineas have been in there for quite a while...

All the white, slippery stuff really messed with the guineas.  They have so much to learn about this world.  I still had to haul in some hay bales, so I went around to the door.  This is what I found.

I could not get the doors open.  This was a little more challenging to chop through.  You see, I was standing on solid ice.  Yes.  Standing on solid ice and swinging an ax.

You did not know I was so talented.

To be cont.

Day #7

I may have mentioned this earlier, the blogging challenge that I have accepted gives daily prompts during the week.  The weekends are all mine.  I can do whatever I like.  So I thought I would let you in on the latest adventure out here on the farm.

We have chickens.  Lots of chickens.  This is no a secret.  We started the year with a certain number of chickens, then over the course of the last few months, we lost a few.  Well, more than a few.  The culprit - coyotes.  I get that predators have their place in the world, but could they move it on down the road a little?  We managed to do a few things that really seem to have made a difference, and I am happy to report that we are holding our own so far.

We have been in the chicken business for about five years now.  I sort of have a love-hate relationship with my chickens.  I love the birds themselves.  They are very entertaining and interesting.  I love the eggs.  My birds are really well taken care of, and I am very particular about their diet.  This makes me feel very good about the eggs they produce.  I am not a fan of large, commercial animal operations, of any kind, and do not want to eat eggs that come from them. 

The hate side of things comes from the friends they attract.  If you have chickens, you will have snakes, skunks, and possums.

Not fun.

They also tend to be a money pit.  I sell my eggs, and have yet to make a profit on my chicken operation.  It can be a little depressing at times.  You do all this work, and then this or that happens, and you either have to reinvest or hang it up.  If you had asked me at the beginning of this year, I would have told you this is it for me on the chicken thing.  I actually did tell several people this very thing.   My intentions were to let the flock dwindle down to a manageable level that would supply eggs for my family and a few friends.

Well...

I happened to be at the feed store when they brought in a batch of new chicks.  I bought eight.  I have no photos or video of them as of yet.  I have actually had them for a few weeks.  I also bought four birds that were about eight weeks old at the time. 

I may have a bit of a chicken habit?

My Full-Timer had a cow. 

She went on a rant like you have never heard before.  Sort of funny since she is gone all the time.

What does she care? 

This still does not completely solve my problem.  I can only do so many things to manage my birds.  They have to do the rest.  They also have to learn to pay attention to what is going on and get to a safe location when they sense something after them.  After a few brief conversations with the Man in Charge, I decided to get some Guineas.  I have heard they are fierce watchdogs, and after doing a little research, found that they can be beneficial to a flock of chickens.  They just tend to be more aware of their surroundings, and they know how to sound the alarms when something evil is lurking about.  They have also been known to kill snakes.

Killing two birds with one stone here.

Sorry.

Poor taste.

I managed to acquire two Guinea Keets rather quickly. 

Keets being the term used for baby Guineas. 

They were about a month old when I got them, and they are living with the eight week old birds I purchased.  Two is good, but I needed more.  I placed an order with my favorite hatchery, Murray McMurray Hatchery, and my birds were delivered this past Thursday.  If you have ever ordered birds, you know they ship in the mail. 

Yes, regular mail.

So, your post office will call you at about 6:30 in the morning to tell you to come pick up your birds. 
I ran down there, and they were making a ton of noise.  This is not uncommon.  They usually ship the same day they hatch.  Then they spend two or three days traveling without food or water.  By the time you get your hands on them, they need some attention.  I brought them home and transferred them to a larger box with food and water available.  They started eating and drinking and trying to run.  I say trying to run because they were more than a little wobbly.  Never-the-less, they were determined.  They also started screaming at the top of their lungs.  I have never heard anything so loud in all my life.  Ear piercing - loud!  I tried everything I could think of.  Nothing was helping.

What have I done?

In my panic, I did what anyone would do.  I jumped on Google. 

What was I doing wrong? 

What did I need to be doing? 

What? 

What? 

What? 

I was doing everything I was reading.  I even had them in the garage so they would be warm enough.  It was cooking out there to me, and it was pretty hot outside.  Surely, they are warm enough.

This is what they did for a good couple of hours.  You may want to cover your ears, or keep your hand on the volume.

This went on and on.  I was seriously trying to decide if I could put them back in their box and send them back.  Finally, I relented and put a heat lamp on them.  Mind you, it has been over 100 degrees here, but I was at the end of my rope.  Almost immediately they stopped screaming.  They did not stop running around though.  They were non-stop.  I checked on them several times during the day, and they were quite busy.  I had read on the Internet that they should be sleepy.  Sleepy to the point that I should not be concerned about them if they seem to sleep all the time. 

Not these little guys.

Later, before bed, I snuck out there and it was quiet.  I was very scared that I would disturb them, but I couldn't resist.

 

 

I was certain, the little guy with his eye open, would jump up and sound the alarm and get the whole gang going at it again, but he didn't .  They were worn out!

 

 

Thank you, Lord!

 

 

Here they are on day 2.  No screaming.  Nice and calm.  Still running, but they seem a little more stable.

 

 

 





Little Lola

Lola.

Crazy Chicken.

It has been long enough that I sort of miss her now.

She spent a lot of time making me crazy.  Always doing whatever she could to get into the horse barn and eat the cat food.  I spent a lot of time chasing that chicken.  She did her job well.  She laid a lot of eggs.  It was sad when she died.  Sad because she had a name and she became someone more than anything else.

(I blame a couple of readers out there for that.)

She didn't go without leaving her mark though.  She apparently taught one of the other girls about sneaking into the horse barn.  This little one isn't interested in eating the cat food though.  Her game is to lay an egg.  It has been a constant battle with her all winter.  If she finds a way in, she leaves an egg.  Now it is like Easter every day because I have to look for the egg.  The last thing I need is an egg that goes days on end without being found in the barn.

In a moment of insanity, Lola really did make me crazy, or clarity, because she was all business, I bought six more.  Can you say, "Little Lola?"  They haven't started making me too crazy, and they were the first of the little girls to start laying.  They seem to be all business at this time.

I have only had one incident with a Little Lola and the horse barn, and it started when my mare came down with her pigeon fever.  It was the day we discovered that we had a problem, and we were still trying to figure out what was going on.  We were in the barn and had all the doors open.  I had also opened the door to the chicken barn and the little girls were still trying to get up their nerve to venture out into the big, bad world.  In all the upset about the horse, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that a Little Lola had made her way to the back door of the horse barn.  I even commented to the Man in Charge about how brave she was to come all the way outside.  Then I went into Blaze's stall and my focus turned back to her.

Who do you think came around the corner to join me?

You got it.  Little Lola came running into the stall with us.  I tried to get her out, but every time I did anything, she ran under my horse.  This created a lot of commotion.  My horse was not feeling well, and this ended up being good for the chicken.  Blaze really wanted to launch her, but every time she picked up her hind leg it was only halfhearted.  Finally the Man in Charge had to jump in and give me a hand.  It took what seemed like forever to get this chicken out of the stall, and then out of the barn.

Initially, I was really worried about what I had potentially done to myself.  Six of these little monsters.  I think the whole ordeal scared the crap out of the chicken.  I haven't seen one of them near the barn, let alone inside the barn.

Keeping my fingers crossed.

Re-arranging Furniture

I have spent a lot of time with my chickens over the last few years.  I believe that if you are going to have animals, you need to take care of them.  Whatever that means, you do it.  I get irritated with people who constantly compare their domesticated animals with wild animals.  You know the ones.  They say things like,"Animals in the wild don't have this or that.  They do just fine."  Yes, there is some truth in that statement.  Funny thing about animals in the wild...they know what they need and have a way to deal with it.  An example, wild horses don't live in barns.  Wild horses also don't live in fenced in acreage.  Wild horses can move, as needed, with the weather to manage their own needs.  I would bet you a dollar that when it is cold and windy, wild horses can be found in an area with a wind block.  Not everyone can have a barn.  I get that.  Just stop and think about the animals that you have and do your best to give them what they need.  Can you tell that gets my feathers ruffled a bit?  Irritating.

I spend a lot of time trying to figure out what my chickens need.  I have read a lot of books.  I have tried a lot of things from said books.  There are different roosts, coop configurations, nesting boxes, feeders, etc.  It can get real over-whelming if you aren't careful.  What I have found to be consistent with my girls...try it, then they will let you know what they think about it.  I read a book that raved about a particular roost.  I built one.  They hated it.  Absolutely refused to use it.  I built nesting boxes and placed them strategically around my coop.  I imagine they like privacy during such an event as egg laying.  They go through cycles of which boxes they use.  There are always a few that become prime real estate.  I have watched them literally fight over a particular nest when there are three just like it right next to it.  Why?  No idea!  It is just what they do.

I have added 18 hens to the flock.  I am actually calling them hens now because six of them have started laying.  So, in the interest of happy chickens, I took a day to re-evaluate the coop and their working area.  This upset a lot of girls that were on the clock.  Apparently, they don't like any interruptions to their daily routines.  I was thoroughly cussed out on more than one occasion, but I have pretty thick skin, so I continued with my work.  I ended up moving a nesting box that no one had used in forever.  Thinking that possibly a new location would make it a more attractive work space. This was fun, in the fact that I was working alone.  Not so easy to hold something in place with one hand and try to use the drill to attach it to a new location with the other hand.  All the while, chickens are running around trying to figure out what you are doing.  Then I worked on a little expansion of three nests.  Converting it into a two story work station and doubling the nests.

I used to load up and head to the big city before these renovations to load up on supplies.  Not this time.  Wrangling chickens for a couple of years has taught me that they don't really care how things look or if something is new.  The facts are, when given a chance, they will poop on it anyway.  It is just the way they roll.  No one can accuse them of being materialistic.  So, I proceeded to inventory all the left-over scrap material from other projects, and went to work.  There was no real measuring happening.  There was no real plan.  I just had an idea of how it should go, and did it.  It certainly wasn't my finest work.  Let's just say, "It ain't pretty, but it works."  Sorry, but I find when you rig things, you are required to speak about them that way.  I also added a few new roosts and moved some feeders.  Giving everyone the room they need.

Moving the furniture around in the house is one thing.  Moving the furniture around in someone else's house is totally different.  So far, so good.  They seem to be utilizing most of their space.  I do need to add more nests, but may go a completely different route next time.  I think I am interested in lighter, easier to clean materials at this stage of the game.  I will keep you posted on what I come up with.

It was back breaking work and I broke a lot of rules that day.  For one, I did not have my gloves.  I was also too lazy to go get them.  I also cut lumber without safety glasses.  I know.  Would it make it any better if I closed my eyes when I cut lumber without safety glasses?  Well, I did.  The whole time I kept thinking that OSHA was going to start banging on the barn door.  Or worse, the Man in Charge was going to pull up and catch me.  Also, ever-present in my mind, the fact that reporting an injury to you was going to come with a huge dose of ridicule.  I am so sorry I pranked you.  Please, please, forgive me?  Call me stupid.  Call me stubborn.  Call me whatever you like.  I did it anyway, and while I don't recommend it, I can still count to ten with my very own eyes.

My Sincerest Apologies

Okay.  Apparently some of you don't have the sense of humor that I thought you had.  It was just a little joke.  No harm.  No foul.  You should all know that the moment I hit "Publish", I knew that I would pay for this in some way.  You see, it is just how things work.  So do not think for one second that I am not aware that there will be a time when I will pay for my prank.  Hopefully it won't be by falling out of the attic, but it will happen, and I will know.

It was so worth it.

Nothing too exciting happening around here lately.  Just cold.  Really cold.  So cold that I have fallen in love with my coveralls all over again.  I don't know how I ever survived without them.  They even make them for women now.  Sort of funny, but all that means is a little area gathered in the back at the waist that makes it look like you are a little less square.  I say, "Whatever!"  They work.  So most of my days and nights have been spent pulling them on and going outside.  Then, coming back in and pulling them off.  I am sure I am burning a number of calories in this exercise, but I have no way of calculating the amount.  

Taking care of animals in the cold is always fun.   We feed them.  Then clean up after them.  Haul warm water, because it's the least I can do.  A regular schedule of events that seem to be working because the chickens are well.  The egg numbers are back up, and the little ones are not so little.  The rabbits in the yard are multiplying everyday.  The horses are a little frustrated with the lack of running around, but over all doing well. The bird feeders have been covered with a variety of birds, and the cat has been moving back and forth from the barn to the house.  That leaves the bees, and I hope to check on them tomorrow.

Between all of those chores, I have been trying to keep everything cleaned up from all the running in and out, and still taking care of the dog.  My lovely dog.  She is still progressing nicely, but the cold weather is making her feel a little more hyper than she should.  She can not understand why I won't let her run and play when it snows.  It's not like it snows around here all the time.  It has made me miss the days of just opening the door and letting them out to do their business.  Standing inside where it is warm and opening the door to let them back in when they are done.  Even with coveralls, it is not fun wondering around the yard at the other end of a leash trying to find the perfect spot.  Seems to me if it is below freezing and the wind is cruising, the logical place to go is the south side of the house.  

No, that is not true.  

The more I try to figure out this part of my dog's behavior, the more I realize that when it comes to finding the perfect place in the yard to poop...I know nothing.  

So you see...I digress. 

Day One...

Okay Kids ~ Get ready!

Just wanted to update you on my going it alone.  As you may have read yesterday, this new year they have officially all bailed on me.  Some were sure that I would be curled up in the fetal position hiding in bed all day.  Some were even more convinced that I would be moping around desperately depressed.  And then there were those of you that were certain I would spend some time in the Emergency Room.

Wrong!

For the record, my Full-Timer has never prevented me from injuring myself.  She has at times been present, but that didn't help me one way or the other.  The major benefit, as I see it, to having her witness my stupidity is that she is my witness when I have to explain myself to the Man in Charge.  Most of the time, I give my side of the story.  Then, he gets her alone, and drills her on her side of the story.  Maybe he believes us, maybe not?  On my own, not so sure how this is going to go.  Some things are just too hard to convince anyone.

Now that we got that cleared up.

So, I started out with a new list.  Yes, you always have to have one of those.  Mostly my day was spent doing back-breaking work.  I can say that because when I finished my back hurt...and both wrists...and, oddly, my right thumb?  The day's list included cleaning the chicken barn and rearranging the furniture out there.  This consisted of putting 5 loads of nasty bedding into the compost.  Which consisted of layering 12 totes of coffee grounds, citrus, and other compost items from a local restaurant.  There was a lot of heavy lifting involved in yesterday.  There was also a lot of scooping and shoveling.  Then there was the chasing around of mean chickens.

You heard me.

Have I mentioned that we have 18 new additions to the flock?  They aren't actually new.  I am thinking they are about four months old.  Can't really remember exactly when I got them?  I'll have to look that up.  When I ask if I have mentioned it, it is because I really don't remember.  Anyway, these girls are big enough that they have moved out into their own suite in the chicken barn.  They are doing great out there, but on cleaning day I decided to let everyone out to run around.  For the most part, this went well.  The little ones won't go out-out.  They stand at the door and maybe take a few steps out, but then turn and run back in.  They did venture into the rest of the coop that they have been prevented from exploring.  This made for a long introduction to the big girls.

Most of the big girls were out enjoying their day, but there were a few that decided to stay in and bully the freshman.  I try to be a fair employer, and I don't want to begrudge anyone their seniority because they have earned it.  I do have my limits when it comes to being plain mean, and some were taking liberties where they shouldn't.

Walk by a little chicken, peck her on the head, let her know you are the big chick.  Okay.

Pin little chickens in the corner and continually yank out feathers.  I will show you the big chick.  

The interruptions sort of drug the chore out, but I really was grateful for the breaks.  Interesting that running is a break from back-breaking.  That statement should be analyzed by a professional.

I didn't make it inside until about 4:30, and still had a mile long list of chores to do there.  I am glad to report...no injuries so far.  Didn't even tweak an ankle skipping around, singing my own tune.  Just checked the list for today, and I don't see any power tools in my future.

The thing is...everything is subject to change.