Chicks

Today, we drove out to Poultry Hollow to pick up some chicks.
We ended up with a mixed dozen... 2 Mottled Houdans, 2 Blue Polish, 2 Ameraucanas, 2 Production Red, 2 that might be Rhode Island Reds, and 2 mystery black ones. The Houdans and Polish were straight run, so we might get some roosters in the mix...

The chicks are now settled in a box, stinking up one of the back rooms. The kids, of course, are thrilled. Zivah nearly breaks down in tears when I shoo her away from the box and out of the room. I keep telling the kids that the chicks can't handle too much more excitement. In reality, I'm probably the one that can't handle the stress. Not having raised chicks before, I am overly anxious, and want to keep checking on them, and whenever one of them plops down and closes an eye to get some sleep, I worry that it is overly stressed and about to die.

Gardening on the Fly

It's happening again. While my brother has built two more raised beds and used a handy online planner to help layout his garden, and another friend is preparing what will be a killer urban garden in plastic tubs, I am once again... winging it.

I started my onions and broccoli indoor according to schedule, but I have done nothing with that plot of grass out back that is supposed to be my garden. In my defense, the weather has gone from extreme winter to spring in a millisecond, and I have spent the last week and a half being sick and taking care of sick children. Although we had several days of glorious weather, I had to spend them inside.

This week, my plan says I am supposed to be planting peas and spinach outside. So, today, ignoring the mucus in my lungs and the pouring rain, I wandered outside to the fairly weed-free plot where tomatoes grew last year, and, with a stick, drew two lines in the mud and dropped in some peas.
The spinach will have to wait. Maybe even until next year.

Juat Call Me Debbie Downer

Well. We lost another chicken yesterday. The neighbor's dogs must have snatched Granny while she and Elizabeth were grazing up next to the shop. There is a mess and a trail of feathers leading back to toward house. So Elizabeth is our sole survivor at this point.

This morning, we reinforced one of the gates to keep Elizabeth from crawling under it and escaping from our back yard where the old, little coop is. So much for using the new coop. We'll have to figure out a way to fence in a nice, big yard off the new coop before we can let Elizabeth or any new chickens we get live out there. No more totally free ranging until we can put up fencing around our property to keep the dogs out or until the dogs go bye-bye...

In other news, we've been sick. Finley came down with a fever on Valentine's Day while at school, Joe caught the bug Wednesday, and Z, who has had a cough and snotty nose for three weeks, ran a slight temp yesterday. I'm feeling pretty lousy, myself, although I can't seem to scare up a fever to give me a good excuse to relinquish all the household duties to Chris.

Looking on the bright side, Joe's illness paved the way for a few laughs. Apparently, his sickness led to some vivid dreaming. We heard him talking one night, so went in to check on him....
"You okay, Joe?"
"I just want everything to disappear."
...
"Just go back to sleep, Buddy."
"I don't want any rocks on my head."
...
Later, he wandered into our room and told me:
"I just want some real water."
In the morning, he asked for real water again.
"Was somebody trying to give you water that wasn't real?"
"Yeah."
"Who?"
"Daddy."
"What kind of water was he trying to give you?"
"He was squeezing some food."

Almost Finished

Finished laying the floor in the coop when Chris got home from work today. It's a little ridiculous, but we put some free, leftover, laminate flooring down in the coop. It felt a little like putting pearls before swine, but I let Chris talk me into it, since it will be easier to clean than rough plywood. We also hung the nesting boxes and mounted the roost.
I also made the chicken door. I still need to put an eye-hook at the top, attach some rope or twine, and rig it to make it easy to open and close.

And a picture of the outside, complete with the barn wood trim.

Now all we need to do to call it finished is put dirt up top. And plant the roof. And build a cage off the side. And...

These are the days I pinch myself to see if I am awake. After chasing some horses out of the yard, I mended the fence, soaking in the peace. The only sound was the wind blowing in the branches [weekend target practicers off to work, I assume], and I could smell the ground [and horse poo] warming up in anticipation of spring.

A year and a half ago, Chris bought me an orchid for an anniversary present. I have to admit, I was a little mad. I like orchids, but I didn't think my thumb was green enough to care for one. I had one before, and it died. I didn't like getting an anniversary gift that I was bound to kill. I didn't want to associate our marriage with a doomed plant.

Chris asked me if I wanted him to try to take it back. But I wouldn't let him. It was, after all, one of the most thoughtful gifts he had ever gotten for me... So I determined to give it a go. I did some research, learned a little bit more about orchids, and made a concentrated effort to care for this one.

I am happy to report that it is actually blooming again.

I read a daily meditation sent out by email every morning sent out by the Center for Action and Contemplation. A few weeks ago, it mentioned that sin was defined by St. Gregory of Nyssa as "the refusal to stop growing." I like that. I think, too often, we come to a place where because we are not intentionally doing something wrong, we feel like we're beyond reproach.

Being a parent, I can see right through that argument. Finley is a good kid, and it isn't often she acts in blatant disobedience. But the fact is, she has a lot of room for improvement. Take, for example, her habit of walking into the house and dropping her coat and shoes wherever she happens to take them off. She isn't intentionally dropping things on the floor to thumb her nose at me, and it wouldn't be right to burden her with some big guilt trip... but she needs to grow up and learn to act in a responsible way.

With adults, bad habits are often mental... attitudes or ways of thinking... There is a saying that we are either growing or dying. I like that, too.

Chicken Coop Progress

This past Sunday, I was able to spend a little more time working on the chicken coop. I started on the door...

After bracing the door panel with salvaged 2x2's, I wanted to spruce the door up a bit. I couldn't handle having a strictly functional coop... It's got to look good, too. So I grabbed a board out of the Broken-Down Barn that was a true 1" x 6" oak plank, then ripped it into 1/2" x 2" strips and framed out the door. I also started trimming out the coop itself, but don't have a picture of that yet...

I really like the contrast of the weathered oak up against the clean paneling. I'm wondering if I ought to put some sealant or stain over the paneling to keep it from going grey and maintaining some contrast. Sunday night, instead of watching the first quarter of the Super Bowl, I set the hinges in the door.

Yesterday and today, I caught moments to scrap together the nesting boxes. I was worried that they wouldn't turn out so well, as I didn't have a clear idea in mind of how I was going to build them... But I guess they came out okay.

Joe's Quilt: Finished

Me: Z, are you hungry?
Z: Uh-huh. I want pink cake.

Z has been at it for an hour... painting as she talks to/with her paper, paint, and brush (while giving the brush a bath, etc.), using her falsetto at times to differentiate personalities.