It’s been a busy morning. I took the rest of the week off…well, really just today…you know, holiday and weekend coming. You know my whole routine. I have all these huge plans to get all the things done that I didn’t do the LAST time I planned to get big things done. I always talk to Tom about all the things that I want to do because for some reason, I think if I say it out loud, then it means it will get done.
I’ve operated in this fashion for just over 45 years and it never changes. I NEVER get any of it done.
So…who cares…let’s talk CHICKENS!
I’m all hopped up because the lavender Orpingtons are on their way from TEXAS. SQUEEEEEEE! This morning, when we should have been doing something else, Tom and I ran to the farm supply store for feed and shavings. Earlier, I had opened the door to the chicken coop and it smelled a bit…chickeny…so I decided I’m going to change out the bedding this weekend (I REALLY AM) and rearrange the nest boxes, rearrange the work area and sweep out the roughly 87 pounds of feathers that have accumulated around the inside of the coop. Honestly, I think the majority of them are Vinnie’s, but to look at him he hasn’t got a feather out-of-place. I think some other barred Rock broke in and exploded in the work area because there are enough feathers to make another chicken. I also think, they think the feathers add to the decor. I think they just add to my allergy issues.
I actually, sorta, pretty much behaved myself at the farm supply store. I didn’t cram too much unneeded stuff in the cart (which is usually a giant plastic jar of “PARTY PEANUTS”). I think in addition to the needed chicken supplies, I only threw in a shirt for a friend of mine that says “I kissed a farmer and I liked it” and a bag of 86,000 wildflower seeds. I’m not kidding…that’s what the bag says. It’s not like me to exaggerate. (insert eye-roll here) Tom got some kind of saw on a stick that he’s going to use this weekend to cut branches off of some of the trees. So, you can count on one of us getting injured this weekend.
When we got home, we set up the dog run for the new lavenders and I opened the coop pen door to let the Beaked Wonders come out to free range. After several minutes of heated negotiations (read as: I told them to get their fuzzy butts outside), I went back outside and just left the door open. If they want to be whiney babies and stay in the coop, FINE. They can’t say they didn’t have the opportunity to come outside.
Of course, Vin Diesel (that’s what Vinnie insists we call him now), was the first one to discover the open door and since I’d spilled the bag of dried meal worms this morning, he felt it was his responsibility to come out and clean them up. Opal, Mary and Nina saw him eating and followed him out…because that’s what chickens do…if one is eating, you can bet that two or three more will show up and try to take whatever it’s eating.
I let them wander around while I held fence panels for Tom to bolt together. This run was a GREAT buy. I’m just tickled that I actually saw something for sale and actually got to buy it. Usually the Craigslist stuff is sold by the time I call.
Speaking of Craigslist…there’s someone on there with 3 month old Black Australorp pullets…about 15 miles away…and they’re CHEAP. Guess what Tom said.
He just doesn’t understand (you know he reads this, right?) what a complete BARGAIN that is and they’re the same age as the two lavenders and it would be best to just integrate ONE group into the flock instead of waiting and adding them later and I don’t HAVE any of this kind and I never get to do what I want never-never-never!!!! (<–tantrum)
It’s such a good deal, unless their heads are falling off or something, and chickens lay eggs and they’re chickens (this is totally for Tom’s benefit) and if we wait too long SOMEONE ELSE WILL BUY THEM.
And my birthday is coming up (cheesy grin).
Anyway, the four chickens had a bit of free-ranging while we worked on the pen and while they were at it, thought they’d check out the woods and become Jungle Fowl. I reminded them about the three extremely skinny foxes I saw run across the yard last night. I started rounding them up after we finished building the new pen. I always try to herd them toward the open coop door, but the dorks absolutely refuse to step foot inside. They run back and forth along the run fencing with the others who are inside, running alongside. They always make the fatal mistake of running into the fence and I just reach down and scoop them up and take them inside. Today, I took Vinnie in first because being the dimmest of the dimwits, he was the first to try running through the fence. Next, I came out for Mary or Nina and she also tried to run through the fence and I reached down to scoop her up and Vin Diesel lost his mind again. He charged the fence and rooster danced and clucked really deep and basically made a fool of himself over me picking up a chicken. I took Mary inside and set her on a roost and Vinnie came thundering inside in a cloud of testosterone and dust. He didn’t come after me, but instead ran up to Mary (who was now on the floor) and checked her over from head to scaly toe. She pecked him in the face and went outside.
Now. Seriously. Why doesn’t that just make Tom want more chickens? It made ME want more chickens (black Australorps). We have a WHOLE other garden shed that just needs 20 truckloads of stuff cleaned out of it and then I could start a little breeding flock! OOOOOH. I suggested that recently…you know, emptying out the other shed and getting more chickens and Tom asked where we would put all the stuff. I suggested renting a storage unit. Which I instantly regretted because now he can blame the chickens for having to pay for a storage unit and they aren’t even providing eggs for their OWN rent yet.
I’ll keep working on it. I think once we have those fresh tasty golden yolked eggs, Tom will want to fill the place with chickens.
They totally need to start laying eggs THIS WEEK to soften his heart because next Saturday, I’ve got a lady bringing splash Cochin pullets to a swap meet we’re going to. (grin)
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