Number Three

Could be good?

This is how today started.

Not good!

This is how this day started.

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!

No luck!

You will understand my surprise the other morning when I went to the chicken barn and opened the door, fully expecting to find a skunk in my live trap, and instead - NOTHING!  I have no idea how he managed to get away.  He must have been small enough to squeeze himself under the door.  I am however, happy to report that I have not seen the neighbors cat - at all!  I am certain he is trying to recover from a few bruises here and there.

So, here we are two days away from Christmas, and I have no idea where my skunk went.  This concerns me because we had that one skunk that showed up on Thanksgiving morning a few years back.  Who needs an uninvited guest like that?  Certain days are stressful enough.  I need no added pressure.  Just so you know, for me, having a skunk roaming around is like seeing a snake and then running to get the hoe, only to find him gone when you get back.  I hate that feeling.  You know, 'cause then you are constantly looking for it, and every little thing scares the crap out of you after that.  

And, as if all that weren't bad enough, I have a very brazen coyote running around.

I was hoping to tell you the story of his demise, but that story has not been written yet.  So, in the interest of a million things to do, I will just leave you with the link to the Thanksgiving Day Skunk!  If you haven't read it before, you will be very surprised.  Go ahead (Click HERE.)

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 are the odds?

Went for my run today.

Ran yesterday.

Pretty good after taking a week off.

Today - hips hurting.

Laced up anyway.

Stretched.

Started walking.

Minding my own business.

Walking with the wind.

Get ready to pick up the pace, and what do you think I see up ahead on the road?

A Buzzard.

He was pretty busy with something on the side of the road. 

I kept walking.

As I got closer, I was pretty sure he was busy with something black, and I was pretty sure it was not a cat.

Crap.

I picked up the pace to a jog after grabbing a rock off the side of the road.

As I got closer, a car drove by. 

He flew off. 

As I passed, it definitely was not a cat.

I gasped for some fresh air, and picked up the pace a little.

I was now down wind.

Surprisingly, it did not last long, and it was not that bad.

About a 100 yards up, what do you think I saw?

What are the odds that two skunks were run over on the same road in the same night?

Lucky me.

This one had two buzzards. 

Another car went buy and they flew off.

I was sort of stuck between two stinky places.

Not much benefit from turning around at this point.

I made it past the second skunk.

Whew!!!

Way worse than the first one!

Running...not jogging!

Now, a number of scenarios ran through my brain. 

• Keep running and get to a point that I thought was my usual distance, then call someone to come give me a ride home?
• Suck it up and do my usual route.
• Repeat first option.

I went back to that first option several times.  I just didn't want to cheat myself out of any distance.
Not wanting to be a sissy, I stuck with my usual route.  When I reached my turnaround point, the wind was full on in the face and strong.  Luckily, I was on the downside of a little hill and the smell was going above me.

I pushed on.

As I came upon the first barrier between me and home, the smell was absolutely ridiculous.  The buzzards were still at work.  I just started yelling at them.

Hey!

Hey-Hey-Hey!

Every time I yelled, they stopped ripping the thing apart.  For some reason, I felt this was a benefit.  It was already smelling pretty juicy, but I just kept picturing something really foul popping open as I got closer.  I tried to cross the road to the other side, but once I got over there the smell almost made me vomit.  The wind had a slight angle making that side of the road worse.  I quickly crossed back and decided to run at the thing full on. 

Passing the first one was not as bad as I thought.  I just tried to not look down.

yuck.

The second one was a very different story.  The Buzzard working on that one was working alone.  Since he had no one to battle over the carcass with him, he had aggressively reached the nastiest parts.  I yelled at him, too.

Hey!

Hey-Hey-Hey!

Heeeyyyyy!

I don't know if anyone was outside.  If they were, they were probably wondering a lot of things about me.

I did not care.

I really thought I was going to lose it on the second one.  Once again - RUNNING!

After I made it passed the second skunk, I started contemplating what to do tomorrow.  Which route?  What do I do?  Go to the High School?  Run the track?  If I head the other direction on my street, there is a huge, long hill!  I am not ready for that hill.  I just knew there was no way I could stomach that again until those things were gone.

Got home.

Cut five minutes off my time from yesterday.

My time from yesterday...best time since I started.

This is quite the quandary.

A damn dilemma.

I need some help.

Maybe someone in that little north-west neighborhood could help me out?

You know?

Go scoop 'em up and get rid of them for me?

Bill?

Kurt?

E. J.?

Anybody?

Can a girl get a little help here?

Please?

Pretty Please?




P.S.  You know what the Man in Charge said?

"Well.  At least now you know you can do it."

Big Adventures in Chicken land

I know I have been M.I.A.

I think I may suffer from a late summer brain disorder.  It's symptoms are directly related to the heat.  It certainly inhibits my writing ability.  After doing a little checking, I am at least consistent in my seasonal writing inabilities.  Apparently I do this every year.  As far as I know, there is no cure at this time, but the good news is, fall is here!  A high in the 50's this Saturday.  Can you believe it?  I have my coveralls washed and ready to go.

Literally.  I washed them last week.

Some of you may be aware, some not, that we have been having egg production issues.  It really has happened over the last three weeks, and it has been miserable.  Not only do I have concerns over filling customer orders, but I also have the anguish of walking into the chicken barn and wondering what may be waiting for me there.

Possum?

Skunk?

Snake?

How about just some eggs?

I have been trying to correct the issue, but no culprits as of yet.  Then, as if things weren't bad enough, we had a coyote attack on Sunday evening.

Yes, I am certain it was a coyote.

Apparently the girls were out minding their own business the other evening, when a coyote caught them by surprise.  I was not here, and no one had any idea of what was going on.  I went to the barn that night with my Full-timer, and we were talking when she all of a sudden screams and jumps back from the feed bin.  There was a gray chicken hiding behind that bin, and when it saw her, it moved.  When it moved, all my Full-timer saw was some gray thing moving.  Past experience has taught us...possum!  She was quite relieved to find out it was a chicken, but then that begged the question, "Why is she in here?"

I grabbed her and headed out to the chicken barn.  I was very surprised when I flipped on the light and started doing a head count.  I was missing seven hens.  There may have been some expletives at this moment in the story.  Then I started looking around.  I was able to find three girls, one of which was injured.  I got her separated out and looked over, and while she was missing a lot of feathers, and a chunk of her behind, I felt like she would make it.  I took a quick look around outside, and all I found were a lot of feathers.  Four separate areas with a lot of feathers.

Not looking too good.

I came inside and got the Man in Charge and the spotlight, and we walked around the creek.  We looked in all the trees, but nothing.  We grabbed the cat, and headed in for the night.

The next morning, first thing, we were back out there.  To our surprise, two hens were waiting outside the door ready to go in.  We then started looking around in hopes of finding some tracks, or other evidence of what might have happened.  It was at this time that we knew it was a coyote.  I spotted fresh prints, and as we were looking at them, I looked up and three feet in front of me was another hen hiding in some weeds.  When I saw her, I yelled, "Chicken!", and she hopped up.  So, at this point, we were thinking we had only lost one hen.  As the Man in Charge was walking out of the pasture, he yelled back at me.  There was the final hen, walking down the driveway.  She must have been hiding up around the house somewhere.

Crazy!

I spent the rest of the morning really looking them all over, and making sure they were okay.  I had to doctor the one up a little, but she should do fine.  She is living in an area by herself, so no one will bother her.  The rest are looking a little frazzled.  There are some feathers missing, but they all survived.  My guess is that the coyote had the one that ended up injured, and she managed to get away.  At that time the alarm had already been sounded so he was really having to chase the others, only getting a mouth full of feathers each time.  All I know is that it was so scary that some of them chose to hide all night.

I did check the creek, and I can see his prints coming in, and then where he turned to come up out of the creek.  The girls have been inside this week.  The eggs are slow to come.  They are still counting their blessings, and I don't blame them.  Now we have a whole new predator to deal with, so, wish us luck...Joy!  On the up side, there are 18 baby chicks in the garage.  I had them on order prior to this little ordeal.

But that is a whole other story...more to come now that the heat wave is over.

Sounds of Summer

It has been a while since I lived in the big city.  I remember noise, but more the constant sound of traffic and people. 

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

There is an element of anonymity that comes with living in the city.  At times, I have missed that.  Living in a small town, you can remain a secret...for a while.  The Man in Charge remained anonymous a lot longer than I did once we moved to the sticks.  He went to sporting events for the girls, and things like that at school, but at sporting events he rarely sat with me.  You see, I am a yeller.  I liked to encourage the team, heckle the referees for bad calls, etc.  For this very reason, he always sat a few rows away from me. 

This is just another reason why our relationship works.  He sat away from me verses telling me to shut-up.  I didn't mind him sitting away from me because I was involved in the game.  We are independant thinkers that way.  This did lead to a few years of most of the people in this town thinking that I had an imaginary husband.  They never saw us together, so we were sure that most thought I was just making him up.  The secret is definitely out now though.  He can't hide any longer.

The anonymous factor is really the only thing that I miss, and it is very rare that I even think about it anymore.  Living out in the country has a lot more perks in my opinion.  We have the peace and quiet.  Plus a little room to breath.  This is foreign to a lot of people, but valuable to me.  I have to tell you that I might argue the quiet part though. 

Right now things are in full swing out here, and it is anything but quiet.  We can hear the crickets chirping.  We can hear the clicking of the grasshoppers when they jump from one of my plants to another.  We certainly hear the chickens clucking as they go about their business.  There are several times during the day that you hear the horses communicating, especially Duece.  I really miss his mother.  She had such a deep knicker that it just sounded sweet.  He squeeeeals!  I can't forget the coyotes.  They were quiet for a while, but they are back in the area.  We have heard them several nights in a row howling and making your skin crawl a little.

But the real racket these days, the constant racket that is non-stop all day, is due to these little guys.

There are hundreds of them out there.  Any guesses on what they are?  They are hard to spot without a zoom.  Can you see this one?

The trees are full of them, and they are constantly talking back and forth.

I spent quite a bit of time under the trees trying to take pictures of these noisy little guys.  When they make their noise, their abdomen expands out fully and there wings move.  Their little bellies are white and I tried for a long time to get a picture of one fully extended.  I guess they are camera shy because once you focus on one of them, they shut up.  I did catch this next shot, but it is either at the beginning of an inhale or on the exhale, because it is not fully extended.

Now, if I was a technically savvy kind-of-chick, I would figure out how to record a sound bite, and post it on my blog.  Then you could hear how not-so-quiet is it out here in the country.  I would really love for you to hear the coyotes.  Maybe I will see if I can figure that out this week.  We'll have to see what the heat does to me.

If you know what they are...leave it in the comment section.  You can also double-click on the photos and they will enlarge on your screen.

Until next time.

Buried, but Alive

I am still here.  Apparently, I still have slacker tendancies.  I won't apologize for them because I said I would stop doing that.  None of this should come as a surprise to any of you because you really should know me by now.  Here is the run-down of what has been happening...

1.  I had to get out of this screen just now, so that I could go back and see the last post that I wrote.

2.  Sad. 

3.  Made even worse by that fact that I just went back again, to see the date of the last post.

4.  Real sad.

5.  The bottom section of the bee hives (called the brood box), are assembled and painted.  Painted a very nice Martha Stewart shade, Fennel Seed.  Do you think that is what she intended when she came up with her line of paints?  Have I ever told you how much Martha irritates me?  It is a love/hate thing, and I will save it for another day.  Back to the bee hives...they are in the bee yard, at bee school, with bees living in them.  I pick them up next month and drive them home.

6.  I have rearranged several things in the chicken pen, and built three new nesting boxes.  The Golf babies, which are not babies now, are living happily with the big girls.  All of the anxiety of the pecking order has been worked through, and the girls have all been pretty happy these days.  The weather is good, the grass is green, and the bugs are a'plenty.

7.  Once the flock became aquainted with each other, I decided to do a little personal hygiene treatment, and give them all a good dusting for mites.  This took place one morning when I was the only one home.  It took about an hour to catch and dust all of the girls.  The more interesting part came towards the end when I was down to about ten girls.  Being the last ten, they were the most efficient at evasion, and I had definitely put in some time towards my cardio work out.  Never one to shrug off a challenge, with the Rocky theme song playing in my head, I proceeded to catch the final few.  One of the Golf babies was among the group, and when I caught her, she flipped out.  Not being handled a lot by humans, she was certain she would die, and was acting accordingly.  To my surprise, Izzy came to her rescue.  That crazy chicken charged me twice in an attempt to free her little one.  Let me remind you that once Izzy was done with the maternal thing, that was it.  She never looked back.  I couldn't believe she still felt compelled to stick her neck out for her young. 

For those of you who may be concerned, no, she did not literally stick her neck out.  It still attaches her head to her body, and she did not end up in the frying pan.  I may elude to it, but unless the family is starving - won't ever happen.

8.  On the same morning that I spent chasing chickens around to groom them, my neighbor was robbed.  Did I mention that I was home?  Did I mention that another neighbor was home?  Did I mention that no one saw a thing?  This was very disturbing for a number of people.

9.  When I tried to express my concern over the robbery to my Part-Timer.  She laughed.  When I tried to explain my uneasy feeling about the event, she laughed again.  Getting a little more than irritated, I adamantly expressed my concerns, and the fact that when faced with a situation like this, one would only have about 10 seconds to react and respond.  Still laughing, she said, "I feel sorry for the guy that tries to break in our house when you are home, Mom.  You will spend the first couple of seconds trying to figure out what is going on, and the next eight seconds, mad as hell because 'how dare someone' do this to you!"  Still mad at her, I had to laugh.  She knows me well.
 
10.  I have spent days trying to get may garage back in order.  I think I spent one entire day in the same corner.  I am not done.

11.  Finding a place for old electronics is not easy.  No one wants them.  You can't give them away.  I did find out that Best Buy's Geek Squad will take them to their final resting place.  I will let you know if that is actually true.

12.  When you spend 20 minutes walking around in the dark, calling for your cat to no avail, then hear a large group of coyotes howling all around you...your hair will stand on end.  I held my breath, and prayed that where ever he was, he stayed there.  After going outside every 15 minutes or so, and calling for him, he finally showed up...wet, muddy, eyes huge, and breathing very had.  He now sleeps inside and he knows it.  Dogs be damned, his words-not mine, he has earned his place inside.

13.  In the fall, when you think it is a good idea to plant rye for the winter, don't.  With the rain we have had, I can watch it grow, and it is too wet to mow it.

14.  I want a cow.  I want to raise it and eat it, but I am afraid that I will name it Chuck, and we will own it forever.

15.  I am fascinated with Bulls.  This fascination is renewed every spring when I see a huge bull on one side of the road, and a herd of young heifers on the other side of the road.  You know he is saying, "Hey Baby!  How you doing?"

16.  My Full-Timer and I moved approximately 70 cubic feet of compost this past weekend.  May I add that it was the most gorgeous compost I have seen in a long time.  Yes, I can describe it that way.

17.  I spent time running my tiller, and again was impressed that it started.  However, by day two, it decided it didn't want to run continuously.  I am putting it in the shop this week.  This scares me.  I am always afraid that if I put it in, it will never come out.  Have I mentioned that this farm is poor, and we can not afford new equipment.

18.  I have seen my chiropractor already this season.  He works on a barter system.  Eggs, honey, tea, etc. = full spinal adjustment.

19.  March Madness is crazy this year.  Have you watched any of the games?  My bracket is a wreck.

20.  Every year it is my job to get the tax information together and organized, and the Man in Charge handles the rest.  Guess what?  I keep putting him off.  Telling him that I will get to it when it rains.  Well, it rained.  I am stalling.

21.  To top it all off, I am sick.  I came down with a nasty head cold last week.  I picked it up at the pharmacy.  I usually use the drive thru window, but I had to go inside for a few things.  Sick people go in there, and they share.

These are a few of the things that I have thought about sharing with you over the past days, but haven't made it to the computer.  I landed here today, and am sure that I am forgetting something.  I may post random pictures to illustrate some of the above mentioned items. 

Wile E. Coyote

Ever watch Wile E. Coyote and Road Runner?  Before you jump to conclusions, no, they have not made a visit to the farm.  I was just wondering if you ever watched them.  I bet ACME has gone out of business since they took them off television.  Another sad, sad example of a weak economy.

This will be a short, short story.  I know you don't think that I am capable of such a thing, but I am going to prove you wrong.  Here we go...

Last weekend, my Full-Timer was on barn duty.  She usually takes one day of the week-end and that is her shift.  She headed outdoors, and I was trying to get my day going.  I think I had showered, and was in the process of trying to get some coffee made. 

A critical step in any successful day.

Like most women, I already had fifty-two things running through my head.  One item in particular revolved around my Full-Timer, and I had it in my mind to talk to her about it when she came back inside.  It wasn't long, and she busted through the door, into the kitchen.  She was talking and I was talking.  Neither one of us hearing the other, and we were repeatedly interrupting each other.  We were both getting really agitated, me probably more so because I am the elder party here.  I mean, really?  A little respect.  Besides, what I had to say directly related to her and a situation that she needed help with.

Finally, between words, she blurted out, "It is about your Chickens!" 

Okay, so she had my attention.  What about my chickens?  Apparently, she had let the girls out, and was inside checking water and filling feeders.  As she was winding things up, she came out the door just in time to see the cat screaming by.  He was in a full sprint from the pasture to the horse barn.  He was cruising at a speed that made her stop and wonder what that was all about.  About the same time, she heard a chicken.  She stepped around the back of the barn to see a coyote in hot pursuit of one of my girls.

I didn't have to ask what she did about the discovery, because by now she was spilling the story as fast as the words would come out.  She didn't take a second to think about the situation, she just yelled, "Hey!"  That was enough to make the coyote stop, and allow the chicken to keep running back to the barn.  As the chicken ran by my Full-Timer, the coyote considered the meal he was losing.  He took his eyes off of my Faithful Helper, and looked back in the direction of his breakfast, as if considering to continue his pursuit.  At this moment, my Full-Timer again yelled, "Hey!"  She also made a move to step between the hunter and the hunted.  Mr. Coyote could tell she meant business, so he turned and ran back to the creek.

Now, all of this is shocking to me on so many different levels. 

1.  I have never seen a coyote that close to the barn.

2.  My girl confronted a coyote to save a chicken.

3.  My girl did not run for the house, leaving said chicken to deal with it alone.

4.  Not only did she confront a coyote, she then made it clear that she meant it.

5.  She was willing to take me on so that she could tell her story first.

As if that wasn't enough, as the coyote ran to the creek, she pursued it to see where it was headed.  Upon reaching the creek, the coyote was gone.

This may be a little more understandable if you understand past behavior of my Full-Timer.  I think I have written about her usual behavior during times of excitement on the farm.  As a matter-of-fact, I know I have.  If you missed it, you can catch up on things by clicking here.  To say that this new behavior blew me away would be an understatement. 

After telling her tale, she then immediately went on a rant about how I don't listen to anything she says.  She told me how rude I am because I don't listen to her.  She expressed how frustrated I made her because I kept interrupting her.  She then closed with how ungrateful I am because I did not stop interrupting until I learned that she wanted to tell me something about my chickens.

At times I am a little slow, but I think she was insinuating that I put my chickens above her. 

Once she paused to catch her breath, I did tell her I was going to write about this on my Blog.  She said that she knew I would.  She then informed me that if I didn't share how I was trying to talk over her until I learned that it was about my girls, she would tell her side in the comment section.  At this point, she turned and left the room.

I hope I have satisfied her requirements here.  I will again close with the fact that what I had to say revolved around her, and therefore I was putting her above anything else. 
   
P.S.
She did get the chickens back in the barn before she came inside and had it out with me.  They are all safe and sound for now.  We have not seen the coyote again, but I feel like he will come back eventually.  We are taking measures at this time to be ready for him.  If either one of us has our way, it will be the last chicken hunt he goes on.

What did you do for Thanksgiving?

Thanksgiving.  What a great holiday.  You spend hours cooking a huge amount of food, you spend about 30 minutes stuffing yourself silly, and then you are miserable for the rest of the day. 

I love it!

We had great food.  We had a wonderful time, but you know how there are always some odd things that happen during the holiday?  It could be the crazy uncle that does something embarrassing in front of the co-worker that you invited to dinner.  It could be the turkey that turns out miserably dry or the dressing that just won't cooperate.  It could be the family members that don't necessarily get along, and you have to play referee for the day.  I personally think the use of a whistle and flags would make it more manageable, but I am not sure it would be socially acceptable.  The possibilities are endless, and if you can keep the right frame of mind about it, it can be down right amusing.

We had our share of odd moments this year, but none that I have listed above.  Our moments were not typical to say the least, but they were every bit as comical.  I would like to share some of them with you today.

First off, we procrastinated a little on our cooking duties.  When I say we, I mean me.  I went to Ft. Worth and watched the NCHA Cutting Futurity on Monday.  I did get my grocery shopping done that night.  On Tuesday, I cleaned the place up and got that out of the way.  Wednesday rolled around and I went back to Ft. Worth and watched more of the Cutting Futurity.  Then, I went and did some shopping with the Full-Timer and we came home and took a break.  A long break.  My Part-Timer blew in late that evening and we visited with her for a bit.  We didn't start cooking until about 8:30 p.m.  I have to give a lot of credit to my Full-Timer, she really kicked it in gear and went to work.  We stayed up until 3:30 am.

What were we thinking?

The alarm went off at 7:30 on Thursday, and that was a little more than painful, but the bird needed to be in the oven by 8:30.  The Man in Charge always has bird duty.  He is great at it, and his recipe is amazing.  By the time that Turkey was done cooking, we only had 1/2 cup of drippings in the pan.  There were never any drippings to baste with.  They all stayed inside and it was the juiciest turkey that we have cooked yet. 

Odd moment #1:  As we stumbled out of bed, the Man in Charge came to the kitchen and let the dogs out.  As he stepped out on the back porch with them, he heard...

"Gobble, Gobble, Gobble"

Apparently we have a wild turkey in the area.  I have heard it over the last several weeks.  We have only seen one in the early years of living out here, but that is it.  Well, as the one that was about to stick a turkey in the oven, this was a little unsettling.  Could this be an omen?  We shook it off and went about our cooking. 

I had to drag my Full-Timer out of bed because I needed her to go to the barn and wrap up all of those duties before the day really took off.  She forced her eyes open, and headed out. 

Odd moment #2:  She was definitely awake when she came back in.  She immediately tracked me down, and said...

"Guess what?" (her)

"What?" (me)

"We trapped the skunk in the chicken barn!" (her)

(If you are behind on why we would be doing this...you can catch up here, What do you do on Monday night? )

"What!" (me)

"What are we going to do?" (me)

"We don't have time for this." (me)

"What did you do?" (me)

"I slammed the door and ran back to the house!" (her)

Now ladies, for those of you that have been in the throws of putting together a Thanksgiving Day feast, you know that there is never enough time to do what you need to do.  If you are like me, you have an extensive, Martha Stewart day planned, and then you start cutting corners or cutting things out all together, because it is not all possible.  We are not Martha Stewart!  We do not have a team of 20 to help us pull it all together.  I can live with that fact, but this extra chore was out of the question.

After a little discussion, we decided it was best to leave the barn shut, and leave the little guy in the trap.  My girl said that he was curled up sleeping soundly when she stumbled upon him.  I am sure he was exhausted from spending the night trying to get out.  We agreed that he could wait.  Besides, there is always the risk of getting sprayed when you have to deal with one of these things, and I don't care how good the food was going to taste, it would not be desirable if any one of us smelled like a skunk.

We proceeded with our list.  We wrapped up all the cooking and got the table set.  We had a good friend come over to join us, and we all feasted.  Slowly we made it to the living room, and everyone settled in for the Cowboy game.  Some of us decided to see if we could watch it with our eyes closed, and some of us watched it the regular way.  It didn't matter.  We were all full, content, and comfortable enough to make the choice individually.  We enjoyed ourselves and had a relaxing afternoon.

Odd Moment #3:  Later that night we knew we had to go to the barns.  My girls and I were sitting in the living room discussing our dilemma and I asked,

"Who is going to pull the trap out of the hay barn so that I can get inside the chicken coop to collect eggs?" 

Immediately my Full-Timer said,

"Not me!" 

I said,

"I vote Part-Timer!"

My Part-Timer said,

"Hey!  Not fair!" 

Then we began to debate the fairness of Two against One.  It didn't work.  We all agreed that we were too full to deal with this issue.  It was late, and we postponed the inevitable.  The Egg Thief would live another day.  After gathering my courage, we headed outside.  I opened the door and the thing was curled up sleeping.  I had originally tied about 10 pieces of bailing string together and fastened it onto the trap.  It was late when I had stumbled onto the varmint earlier in the week, and I couldn't find any rope to use.  Later, after finding rope, my Full-Timer had tied another rope onto the trap before setting it Tuesday night.

Carefully opening the door, I grabbed the ropes, and started easing the thing out of the barn.  He woke up, but I had a good deal of distance between us, and he was still focused on how to get out.  I pulled him out of the barn, and about 50 feet away from the building.  We had decided that he could spend the night out there, and we would deal with him in the morning.  We gathered eggs, fed the horses and went in for the night.

The next morning when I finally started moving around, I looked out to see what he was doing.  I could tell he was moving around, probably still working feverishly to get out.  My Part-Timer and I discussed how sad it was.  Still, I knew we had to deal with him.  Everyone got up, and we started our day.  My Part-Timer was sad to go, but decided to get on the road back home.

Who did she think she was kidding?  I know a  Chicken when I see one!

After thinking about it all morning, I wanted to give him a chance.  We had left the thing in the trap for about 36 hours.  He had had no water, but had managed to eat the entire can of cat food that I had baited the trap with.  I mean, on some level, this was just bordering being mean. 

What was I supposed to do? 

I decided, in the spirit of Thanksgiving, and no, I do not really know what I mean by that, but I felt like I had to try to relocate him.  This is not a course of action that I would normally consider.  Loading a skunk up in my truck.  Driving him to another location.  Unloading him.  Then releasing him. 

No, Thank You!

What can I say, though?  I am a softy, and so is the Man in Charge.  For the record...my Full-Timer...Just shoot the thing!

Odd moment #4:  He was sound asleep when I went out there.  He had worked all night trying to dig out.  There was a little trench dug around the trap as far out as his arm could reach.  He had managed to grab the bailing string and pull the entire length of it inside the trap, and he had pulled the rope about halfway in.  He must have been cold because as I was trying to get a picture of him, and I couldn't find his head.

You should know that my Full-Timer was beside herself while I was doing this.  She couldn't understand why I kept walking around him.  I was really glad that we had added the second rope.  He had the first one completely inside with him.  I then put a blanket over the trap and used the second rope to tie it down.  I picked him up, and carried him to the back of the truck.  He never moved.

We drove about 5 miles west of our place, crossing a creek, and passing by many houses.  Once out in the middle of no where, I scouted a new home for him.  Trying to decide where to release him, I realized that we were almost out of gas.  This was the second heart attack that I gave my Full-Timer.  She informed me how mad she would be if we ran out of fuel, in the middle of nothing, with a skunk in our care.  After surveying our options, I found a place near a tank of water and a small brush pile. 

We jumped out of the truck, and I unloaded the trap.  After fiddling with the door for a few minutes, I was able to get it open, and loop the end of the rope around it so that I could step back a few steps and give him some room.  Then, we waited.  He wouldn't come out.  I couldn't even tell if he was awake yet.  I slowly raised up the blanket on my end to take a peak.

He stared at us for what seemed like an eternity, and then slowly started backing away.  Once he realized the door was open, he took off right for the brush pile.

I knew we had done the right thing.  I was glad that it all went well, and we headed home.  We did not run out of gas, but it was close.  Of all my Thanksgiving Holidays, this one will definitely go down in the record books. 

Feel free to tell me about your Thanksgiving Holiday in the comment section.  Any great stories?  You don't have to use real names, and you can leave your comments anonymously. 

We are all just thankful that we managed to get through ours without getting stinky.

What do you do on a Monday night?

I have been dragging a little lately.  I have had a few health issues.  Nothing major, but they have not helped my productivity.  I have also been very busy with numerous projects.  This also has not helped. 

I have tried to wrap up all of my gardening chores, working to get things winter ready. 
I have been cleaning and trashing my garage, over and over. 
I have tried to tackle some of the chores in my home that were neglected over the summer months. 
I have made a trip out of town to lend a hand to someone very dear to me.
I also managed to squeeze in a trip to Will Rogers Coliseum today.

After all of this, I thought I should go to town to do the shopping for our Thanksgiving Dinner.  My Full-Timer and I did a little shopping first, then headed to the grocery store.  We managed to find all of the things on our list, and made our way to the check out.  We were surprised when we were standing in line and we heard thunder.  We grabbed our shopping cart, loaded with bags, and ran for the door.  It was pouring down rain.  By the time we got our things loaded in the truck, we were soaked.  The more interesting thing... not one person standing in front of that store trying to decide their best plan of action, uttered a single complaint. 

It was raining! 

Hard!

Yea!

After getting home, taking care of the things we needed to do, I was tired.  Really tired.  All I wanted to do was go to the barns, do my chores, and head to bed.  I still had a few things to do in the kitchen, and the more I thought about how tired I was, the more I wanted my Full-Timer to do the barn rounds.  I asked her if she would, and of course she agreed, but she was trying to finish some home-work first.

Yes!

It didn't take me as long as I thought to wrap up my things, so, I just decided to go to the barns myself.  While it was very sweet of her to say she would go, I know that her work load isn't a piece of cake either.
I get to the horse barn, and find my cat going absolutely bonkers.  His eyes get huge and dilated, and he hides behind things and jumps out at you.  Anything he can do to get you to play with him.  Most days, I would give him some undivided attention, but not today.  I didn't want to.  I was too tired.  You have to know how hard it is to ignore him when he jumps out from behind you and grabs onto your pants leg, swinging back and forth.  You can't help but laugh.  Especially if you are wearing sweat pants, and your cat is yanking them down.

Crazy cat!

I decide to go collect eggs first, this would at least give the cat a chance to run around outside before I lock him back up in the horse barn for the night.  Swinging from my pants leg and swinging from one of my horses tails...two very different things.  He seriously needed to blow off steam.  I turn the lights on at the back of the barn, and head out the door. 

I don't know any other way to tell you the last events of my day, other than to just go step-by-step.  So, that is what I am going to do.

I open the outside door to the hay barn.
I step inside, but close the door behind me.
It is dark in the hay barn.
I reach around until I find the extension cord for the baby chicks heat lamp.
I fumble around in the dark until I get the cord plugged in.
I turn to see the babies, Izzy, and the Hooligans all doing well.
I walk the three steps or so to the door of the coop.
I notice a hole dug under the door.
I open the door, and step inside.
I walk to the right, to the wall, to plug in the big girls heat lamp.
Plugging this light in takes some acrobatic moves because the outlet is up high.
As I am climbing up to plug in the light, I talk to my chickens.
"Are you girls hanging out with someone in here?"
The light comes on.
I step down and turn at the same time, and catch a glimpse of something.
As I fully turn, I realize I am in my chicken coop with a skunk.
He is closer to the door than I am.
I did not scream.
I pressed myself into the corner.
I literally made myself as small as possible.
He sort of moved around in circles.
I begged him through mental telepathy to not get mad.
Please, do not get mad?
He ran along the wall, away from me, looking for a way out.
I took advantage of my opportunity, and ran out of the coop.
I opened the outside door.
I ran to the horse barn.
I turned out the lights, and waited.
He finally ran out.

After coming inside and telling my Full-Timer,

"You are so very, welcome!"

I explained to her, and the Man in Charge, what had just happened.  The Man in Charge looked at me, and very calmly said,

"Well, I am glad to see that you two didn't get into a fight."

I then went back outside and set the trap.  It is inside the hay barn, loaded with cat food, with a rope tied to it.  I will let you know what I find. 

I really hope he doesn't come back tonight. 

My heart has finally stopped pounding.

Why?

There are days when my vocabulary becomes very limited.  I am proud to say that it doesn't usually revolve around a curse word.  Although, I would be telling a story if I told you that never happened. 

Lately the word of the day has been...

Why?

I went to the hen house to do a few chores and collect some eggs, and I was shocked to find an egg the size of a marble. 

Why?

I have seen eggs this small before, but usually when the temperature drops below freezing.  In my mind, one of the girls just says, "I don't think so.", and I can understand that.  On this particular day, we were not having adverse weather, and I saw no reason for it.  The funnier thing was that I collected eggs and headed inside to find my Full-Timer in the kitchen.  I asked her if she wanted to see something funny, and of course she did.  I then proceeded to dig through the egg basket and try to find the little thing.  Once I had it, or at least I thought I did, I pulled it out to show her.  At this moment I bobbled it, proceeded to juggle it around about six or seven times, and then it fell on the bar and cracked.  She looked at me, and said,  "Well, that was funny!"

Why?

I also headed out to do some manual labor the other day.  I have beds to clear, compost to turn, and various other chores.  Due to the nature of the work, I felt I should grab some gloves.  I head to my mudroom, where I keep a basket on the dryer just for such things.  I dig through this basket, and find various different items, pulling out gloves as I find them.  There was one problem though.

All I could find were left hand gloves.

Why?

You should also know that when this originally happened, I found three left hand gloves.  No Right gloves.  By the time I took this picture, I only had two.

Why?

Between the time I took this picture, and the time I am writing this, I have found the missing glove, plus an additional one.  Yes, that is correct, four left hand gloves.

Why?

I am right handed, and it is frustrating to try to do some things with gloves on.  Apparently, I remove my right glove to accomplish these tasks, and I don't know what happens after that.  I have always been convinced that a sock monster lives in the washing machine and eats random socks at will.  Thus explaining the number of single socks lingering around in my sock drawer.  Possibly, he has a distant relative that prefers a diet of gloves?  I am currently looking for a left handed pal with the same problem.  I figure between the two of us, we could make some sense of this strange phenomenon.  Please send emails if you are interested.

The other afternoon, I headed out to the throw the horses some hay for lunch, and noticed something odd.  All of my chickens were laying just outside their barn.

Why?

It was a gorgeous day, and they should have been out foraging and enjoying themselves.  I went inside the chicken barn, and checked on the babies, made sure they had water, and topped off their grain.  I happened to notice that one hen was missing, and this was fairly easy to notice because she is the only Silver Laced Wyandotte that I have.

Why?

I decided to go look for her, and when I walked around the corner, I saw a hawk.  He saw me at the same time, and he flew off.  Once I saw the blood on his chest feathers, I knew what I was going to find.  We have had hens for three years now, and we have always had hawks in the area.  We have never had a problem until now.

Why?

After burying my bird, I now knew why the others were hanging out around the barn.  I put them inside and shut the door and took a head count.  I was missing another bird.  I walked the entire creek line three times, and couldn't find her, nor did I see any evidence of her being eaten by the hawk.  I finally just decided that maybe he had carried her off to dine on her.

Why?

To my surprise, the next morning, my missing chicken was waiting very impatiently at the door.  I couldn't believe she was there.  My guess is that whatever she saw her friend go through was pretty bad.  Bad enough that she hid, and hid well.  Once I opened the door, she ran in and immediately hopped on a nest and laid an egg.

Poor thing.

I am in the process of hunting a hawk.  I hate to do it, but once they start feasting on chicken dinners, they won't stop.  My guess is that the drought has made his usual prey of field mice and rabbits scarce.  The bad news is that the girls have been staying inside.  They are not happy about this arrangement, and they are eating me out of house and home.  Not to mention, we are getting fewer eggs.  I think this is their version of a strike.  Hopefully we will get this problem under control soon so everyone can go back to the usual.

Ever have days like these?

What is your word of the day?

The Downside...

If you know me, you know I really enjoy my Chickens.  They are my girls.  I have raised them.  I have taken care of them.  I have laughed at them.  I have cried over them.  Can I just tell you something, though?  There can be a downside to the things that you enjoy.  The major downside to chicken ranching, or farming, or wrangling, or whatever you want to call it, are the predators that they attract.  If you have read any of my ramblings here, you have read about skunks and possums.  I am not a fan of either. 

We had our first possum encounter this year.  It happened about a month or so ago.  My Full-Timer and I went out to make the rounds at the barns.  We went to the hay barn and gathered eggs, made sure their water and feeders were full, and were on our way out to head in for the night.  As I reached over to turn off the lights, I caught a glimpse of a tail hanging down from the rafters.

Dang it!

I told my girl to take the eggs and go in and get the Man in Charge.  "Tell him that I need his help and to bring his gun."  Well, I waited for what seemed like forever, and she finally shows up alone.

(me)  "What the heck?"

(her)  "He doesn't want to come."

 Now, I have to say that it was about 11:00 pm, and I know that he was already in bed, probably watching television, but this is no excuse.  So, I send her back inside to tell him that if he doesn't want to bring his gun, fine, but I still need his help.  I know this is one of the times in life when she really hates the fact that she still lives at home, but I didn't ask her to stay and keep an eye on the possum while I went inside.  Plus, I know her, and this was the slowest walk to the house that she had probably taken in a long while.

He finally shows up, with his gun, and I point to the perpetrator, and we discuss a plan.  The plan went something like this...

(him)  "I can't do anything with it if it is still in the barn."

(me)  "What do you want me to do?"

(him)  "I don't know, but hurry."

So, I grab a shovel and start poking at the thing.  My intent is not to let it get into my hay.  Well, it's intent is not to leave.  I have never seen anything like it.  It ran back and forth, all up in the rafters, in and out of my chicken coop.  The girls were all on their roosts, and other than the fact I was running around, they didn't seem too bothered.  Finally it lodged it's self up at the ridge of the barn, and wouldn't move.  I managed to get a shovel stuck up there so that it couldn't enter the coop, but it wouldn't back out and leave.

(him)  "Hurry up.  What's the problem in there?" 

When I ran out of things to try, the Man in Charge came in and gave it a go.  The thing would not leave.  We were hitting it with the shovel.  Poking at it.  No luck.  Now, you can't really shoot it in this position, or we would have been blowing a hole in the roof.  Finally, my Full-Timer heads to the house to get the pellet gun.  The plan is that I will stand on one side of it (inside the coop), and block it with the shovel, and he will shoot it in the backside with the pellet gun from the door, until it gets so uncomfortable that it leaves. 

One problem with the plan.  We have a metal roof on that barn.  All I can think about is, what if he misses the backside of this thing?  That pellet is going to hit the metal roof and ricochet somewhere, right?  Probably in my direction, right?  Isn't that how things usually go?  I did not like this plan.  I voiced my concerns, but no one was listening.  The next few minutes went like this...

(him)  "Okay, have you got it?"

(me)  "No!  Not yet!"

(him)  "What about now?"

(me)  "Okay, but wait..." 

at this point I cover my face with my hands

(me)  "Okay - now!"

This went back and forth forever!  There were times when he hit it, and times when he didn't, but the thing still would not move.  No, I never got hit by a stray bullet, but that is beside the point.  Finally, out of frustration, I was kicked out of the barn, and the Man in Charge came inside and took aim from another angle.  The thing jumped down and ran out the door.  At which point, I started chasing it and swinging at it wildly with the shovel.  We managed to get it trapped at the fence and my Full-Timer was there with the trusty Muck Bucket.  With precision aim, she threw the bucket over it and we had him.  At this point, she looked at me and said, "I hate being the one with the bucket."

This little adventure took about 45 minutes.  It was absolutely ridiculous.  The Man in Charge just looked at me, and said, "Can I go back to bed now?"

Our most recent adventure happened yesterday...

I went to the chicken coop to gather eggs in the afternoon.  I usually try to check on them a couple of times during the day.  I have felt like our egg numbers have been low, and was thinking that the cooler weather should be making a change in the numbers, unless...

I went inside to find most of the girls laying around taking their dust baths.  They scratch holes in the dirt and then jump in.  It is kind of fascinating to watch them throw dirt all over themselves in an attempt to clean up.  This is what chickens do.  At the first nesting box I check, along with some eggs, I find a shell that is open on the end, but empty.  I pick it up, and start in with the questions.

"What the heck?"

"Who did this?"

"Is somebody breaking eggs and then eating them?"

As if one of the girls is going to stand up and confess the truth, I had turned to face them.  Only to have my heart jump out of my chest because the watering can that was about a foot in front of me has a snake curled up in the base.  All of my chickens are laying all around this thing.  Like it is no big deal.  Looking at me like,

"What?"

I am pretty proud of my behavior at this point.  I did not break a single egg, and I did not scream.  I calmly walked out of the area.  I set the eggs down in a safe place and grabbed a shovel and a hoe.  I walked back into the coop, and picked up the watering can.  I carried it outside about five feet and sat it down on the ground.  I picked up the shovel and the hoe, and began tapping on the base with the shovel. 

He didn't like it.

I disturbed his afternoon swim long enough that he finally decided to leave.  As he slithered around the base and made his way out of the water, I pinned his head down with the shovel.  I then proceeded to chop it off with the hoe.  All of this took place very calmly and methodically.  Like I have done it a million times before.

What is happening to me?

You will probably never see pictures of snakes on this blog.  I have a theory about snakes.  Don't walk away from one.  This is based on the fact that I feel like if you walk away to grab a camera, or, I don't know, some help.  It will disappear.  Then you will have to be thinking about it every time you go out to the barn.

No, thank you.

People will generally ask me, "What kind of snake was it?"  My answer is always the same, "A dead one."   I have another theory on snakes, and that is that it is not dead until it is in two pieces.  Sorry for being so graphic, but it is the only way that I like mine.

Once this task was so calmly accomplished, my heart started pounding, and my adrenaline was pumping.  I went about the task of washing the watering can and refilling it.  I returned it back to the coop, only to see that the cat was in there asleep on my hay.  Really?  Let's get every one involved, and no one do a thing!

Lazy!  Just Lazy!

This is when I noticed something a little funny.  Chickens love anything that is different.  Once they spot something, they fixate on it.  They can't help it.  It is their nature.  A small group of hens had gathered around the body of this snake.  I would say it was about three feet long, and they were really giving it a look.  There was some low clucking as they were discussing their new find.  Then one of them pecked at it, and it caused the thing to move, which freaked them all out and they ran off.  They all came back.  This time, one of them tried to pick it up.  This again caused it to move, and they all freaked out and ran off.  Then they came back again.

Now I was watching, and thinking that there may be some poetic justice happening here.  What would be the correct thing to do?  Is it wrong to let them rip this thing to shreds?  Then I was thinking that would probably just get them accustomed to being around the things, and that couldn't be good, so I was going to have to stop this comical little game.  As this conversation was taking place in my head, one hen noticed the other part of the snake.  The much smaller part that was laying near by.  Before I knew what happened, she had the head and she took off running.

Well, this started a whole game that chickens love to play.  The game where one of them gets something and instead of just being quiet, she announces to everyone that she has something and then runs.  This is where the chase begins.  They do this all day long with grasshoppers.  The one that has it will run, and then she drops it.  Another one will pick it up, and then they are chasing after her.  The only problem was that this was not a grasshopper.  So, get ready for the visual.

One chicken has the snake's head.  She is running for her life.  About 10 other chickens are chasing her.  Following that mob is, yours truly, with the shovel.  We must have made about three trips around the barn.  All the while, I am yelling at her to "Drop It!"  This command works with my dogs.  It does not work with my chickens.  Finally she ran inside the coop, and when I got her cornered, she spit it out and just walked off, like,

"Oh.  Where you talking to me?"

I picked the thing up with the shovel.  Walked to the door.  Took a good look around to see who might possibly have been outside to witness this adventure.  Luckily, I did not see any of my neighbors.  Then I disposed of the predator, and the game was over.  I have now become de-sensitised to disposing of snakes, and am apparently not above embarrassing myself in front of my neighbors. 

I am not sure where we will go from here.

One of the Worst Experiences that we have had.

We have had some experiences here on the farm.  We have caught possums.  We have killed snakes.  We have even trapped a skunk in a live trap.

Have I ever told you that story?

We have had our share of possum infestations, among other things.  You can scroll down this page and on the right there is a Tag box...one of the topics is wildlife.  If you think you are having a bad day, check out a few of those posts sometime. 

During one of our possum infestations, I saw evidence of another invasion.  Since we had recently trapped and relocated  possums, I assumed we had the same problem.  As if it were a normal part of every day life, I grabbed a can of Fancy Feast, headed to the hay barn and set the live trap.

No big deal, right?

As desensitized as I may be to some steps in this process, the next morning is always nerve wracking.  I do not like to open the door to the hay barn and see what the catch of the day is.  I never expect it to be anything different than a stray cat or a possum, usually a possum, but it still unnerves me.  For one thing, I don't like possums.  They creep me out.  They have big mouths, long tails, they stink, and they are usually hissing at you.  I have been in the trenches of possum removal.  I have experienced the hand to hand combat, and while I have personally tried to reassure my help that it is okay because they can only run 7 mph, they are not fun and they do not play dead.

On this particular day, I slowly opened the barn door, not hearing anything and feeling relieved, I entered a little faster than I should have.  I was totally caught by surprise when I realized that I had a skunk in my trap.  To say that I jumped backward and screamed would be an understatement.  After I got a grip on myself, I managed to sneak back in and open the door so the chickens could get out.  I wasn't sure, but I didn't want them to do anything to alarm the thing and cause it to spray.  After all, this is my hay barn. 

I go in there everyday. 

I keep hay in there.

The next thing I did was run for the house and call the Man in Charge.  He was at work and immediately started chuckling at my dilemma.  Always being the calm voice of reason, he said, "Is this something that we need to deal with now, or can it wait until I get home?"

It could wait, alright.

I spent a large portion of my morning reading about trapping skunks, and all the things you should do, like:

Use an enclosed trap so that you can remove it.
Trap in an open area.
Make sure to tie a rope to the trap.

All very useful information, but not very helpful in my situation. 

As a side note:  I have to tell you that after spending my morning on the Internet searching for answers, I called a friend of mine in a nearby town.  He is in his 70's, and without a doubt, I know that he would do anything that he could for me.  I gave him a call and started to explain my situation.  Well, he was shocked.  Shocked to the point of stuttering, and he was full of questions.  The number one question being, "What are you going to do?"  It was at this point that I decided to play a little trick on him.  I asked him if he would come and help me get the trap out of there.  Without missing a beat...without a single stutter or hesitation...he started in with...

"What?"

"Are you still there?"

"There is a lot of static on the line, I can't hear you!"

"Call Jim!"

Jim is another friend of ours, and after yelling at me to call him, he promptly hung up the phone.  Well, I was laughing my head off.  Little brat.

Back to the story - After the Man In Charge got home, we devised a plan.  It went like this...I would sneak into the barn, go up to the trap, and throw an old blanket over it.  Everything that I read said that they very rarely spray when they are in the dark.  I had also read that when they are going to spray, they stomp their front feet first.

Good to know...watch the feet.

Then, once I had the trap covered with a blanket, I would put a rope around it, and the Man in Charge would pull it out.  That was the extent of the plan because we were just hoping to get that far without getting sprayed.  I will tell you that talking about a plan and implementing a plan are two different things.  If you want to get your adrenaline pumping, try doing something crazy like this.  My knees were knocking, I was shaking so bad.  It took several attempts to get the blanket on the trap.  Every time he even flinched, I screamed, dropped the blanket and ran.  You can ask my Full-timer, the policy when it comes to skunks is every man for himself.  If you are in front of me, you better run because I will run you over.  The ironic part is that the Man in Charge was standing outside during the initial phase of this plan, complaining because it was taking me so long.

Really?

Long story short, we got the thing covered and out of the barn.  The next phase was to open the trap, let him out and then we had to dispose of him. 

Not in a very nice way.

Some of you may wonder why we had to dispose of him, but I draw the line at skunks. We don't kill things unneccessarily.  We are all about catch and relocate if at all possible.  The Man in Charge really does not like killing things.  He is not a hunter.  He used to be, and maybe that is why he has a bad taste for it, but if he can avoid it - He will!  It just is not that easy when it comes to skunks.  If we just let him go, he would be back.  They love eggs and they will kill chickens.  My first priority is to protect the animals that I am in charge of.  To relocate him...I would have to load him up in my truck.

Absolutely out of the question!

Also, skunks carry rabies, and we have had big rabies scares in our area.

After discussions and further planning, I was to sneak up on the trap, pull the blanket back from the release door, and then open it.  That being easy enough, I tied a rope to the door, and slowly backed away while holding it open.  Problem - he wouldn't come out.  I handed the rope to my Full-timer, and went back up to the trap.  I shook it until he started to come out. 

Can you imagine?

At that point it was up to the Man in Charge.  He did his duty, and when it was all over, I grabbed a rake and went to scoop him up to take him down to the creek and throw him over the fence.  I made sure to position him down wind from me, and headed out.  Luckily there was no smell at this point.

This is when my lovely family decided to have a little fun.  The two people that I do the most for these days, decided to play a trick on me.  The Man in Charge yells out, "It's alive!"  At which point, I scream and jump. As I scream and jump, I look at the rake.  Well, when I jumped it caused the thing to move, which did make it seem like it was alive.  At this point, I yelled, threw the whole thing in the air and ran.  Now you have to know that they were laughing their heads off. 

That was it. 
I was done. 
They were on their own. 

As bad as that day was, what I am about to tell you was even worse.

To be Cont...

Stop!

It is amazing that I get things done.  It seems like every time I turn around, there is a distraction of some sort.

I told you recently that I have a new list of things that life is too short to live with.  One of those things is tree branches that you have to duck under.  Low tree branches must be dealt with promptly and without regard to anything other than my head.  I have proven that I can dish out enough blows on my own.  So, with hand saw in hand, I set out to accomplish this task.

I assess the first tree.  Considering the branch to height ratio, which is the deciding factor in determining my removal selections, I quickly get to work.  I have had my hand saw for about 12 years, and it is surprisingly sharp and still in relatively good shape.  This is a miracle on it's own, because I am not usually good at keeping up with my things.  The Man In Charge will attest to this, and it is one of his biggest pet peeves.  It is also the primary reason that he doesn't like sharing tools with me.

I know.  Rude, right?

First tree, first branch, and wait, "What is that?"

Stop!

I run inside and get the camera, and well, you decide.

On the very day that I decide to take extra precautions against self-inflicted head injuries, these little guys decide to come into the world.  Here is a closer view.

The thing that really caught my attention was the color.  It was such a gray day, and to see these bright orange things moving around, it really was almost pretty.  Strange to say about spiders, but true, and unlike most people, I have to stop what I am doing and get the camera.  I can't help it.  Then I have to shoot as many pictures as I think I need, and then stop to go put the camera up.  This last step being the most critical step because I have learned my lesson about expensive photography and video equipment the hard way.

Prior to buying my camera, we had a nice video camera.  We bought it back in 2002 when our horse foaled and we all became blooming idiots, finding every excuse possible to sit outside and watch the baby.  If you look at this picture of my mare...

You can see that it is not a great quality shot.  This is because this is actually from a video.  It is a good shot of her because she is squared up nicely, but resolution/pixel/and all the other technical terms, this is lacking.  Still, it was a good camera when we bought it, and it was a good camera right up until the time that I killed it. 

Public Service Announcement:  Once you are finished taking picture or video, you must stop what you are doing and put the equipment up inside the house.

I learned this lesson on one of those weather days when I leave my horses in their stalls for various reasons.  After one of these weather events, they can get a little frisky and want out to have a run.  It is usually during these times that you can get great video of them doing what they do naturally.  This will include all of their crazy antics and the absolute raw explosive power contained within them.  They are truly athletic and can move in ways that look effortless.   

It was on one of these days that I had the video camera out.  I was shooting video of our stallion at his best.  He was running and loving life.  When he had calmed down and began grazing, we stood outside and watched him for a bit longer and then the Man in Charge wanted something from the little BBQ/Gas Station/Grill that is in our town.  I had one more thing to do in the barn, so I sat the camera down on the rear bumper of his truck, and headed to the barn to knock it out.  When I came back, I jumped in his truck to run to the store.  My Full-Timer was with me on this excursion, and we made it all the way back home before I was like, "Where is the camera?"

Well, you can only imagine the panic when I realized where I had left it.  We jumped back in the truck and started re-tracing our route, all the while looking along the side of the road with a spot-light.  I was seriously panicking when we had gone more than a few miles and still hadn't seen it.  When we came to a highway intersection, that we had turned left at, I spotted it.  It had made it all that way, and then when I had turned it fell off.

There it was.

Smashed into a million pieces.

I will say that the Man in Charge took it a lot better than I did.  I was sick about it. 

Literally...physically ill.

So, I have learned to keep my camera in the house.  I go get it when I need it, and then I put it up when I am done with it.  This makes it really hard to get things done because I always see stuff that I want to share with you.  Stuff like the little guys up there, and stuff like this...

I was doing a little weeding in an area that I wanted to plant, and I stumbled upon these little things.  At first I didn't know what they were.  Then when it dawned on me that they were little baby Lady Bugs...

Stop!

I threw down my tools and gloves and went for the camera.  It is a little hard to judge the size, so I did something to help you out with this. 

This is not for the squeamish.

I know it is gross, but it was the only thing around, so I placed a dead June Bug in the shot to give you an idea how small these little things were.  No, I did not kill the June Bug, I found it that way.  I did not feel bad because I do not like June Bugs and it is only April and they are already here, but that is beside the point. 

Mom was close by also.

Or, it could have been Dad.

Probably was Dad because he got the heck out of there.

This may not be very exciting news to some of you, but I was ecstatic.  It may help you understand why, if I explain to you that I have actually purchased Lady Bugs before. 

Yes!  That is correct!

I have paid cold-hard cash for bugs.

Some of you just grabbed your wallets.

It may sound crazy, but Lady Bugs feed on aphids and aphids are an enemy of The Farmer.  To see that I am actually breeding my own bugs was great news.  I did see this several times in the area that I was working.  I made every effort not to disturb them too much, and to leave some weeds around so that they will have something to feed on.

I could be in the Lady Bug business if I only knew how to ship them.

Did you know that you can mail order Lady Bugs?

This is why there are some days that it doesn't look like I have done anything at all.