I am plugging away at the final details of this chicken saga.
I told my sister-in-law that this feels a little like how it was when we were preparing for babies to arrive.
You just KNOW that once the longed for infant finally shows up, you won't have time to decide where you want to store the baby wipes… you just need them RIGHT NOW!
I think preparing for these chickens is a lot like making a really big playpen for a very clever and resourceful toddler who has escape artist written all over him.
I've been spending my time on all sorts of details.
Planters with clover, bee balm, oregano, and sprouting broccoli seeds in them. I'm hoping that they can snack on these plants when they get beyond the chicken wire barrier.
We'll see how my idea works. As you see, I still need to get some rocks to finish the look.
I had to hang a little feeder with oyster shell in it:
This afternoon I hauled up several rocks to block access to the underside of the coop. Sunny signed off on it.
[A. I am taking your advice under consideration. But for now, this is my plan.]
Then I had to affix a metal strip on the linoleum because it was lifting up just a little bit on the edge. [The hardware store guy loves me. I'm in there every day.]
And of course there was the interesting and time consuming job of tying the chicken wire to the horse fencing for strength. I did this about a hundred times….
Lord help me.
So, as far as I can tell, once we affix the gate, and I haul up straw for the coop, and mix up my chicken food… I'll be ready.
(Is there any way that I can possibly express how weary I am of this entire subject?)
I don't know. You could try. But in the meantime, go to the creek and bring me back about 2 dozen round white rocks will you?
(Fat chance, Cupcake. You're on your own with the beautification of what is about to turn into hen pecked bare dirt. I give that grass in there about 2 weeks.)
Don't I know it. But I can't help myself. I want it to be kinda pretty.
(There's nothing pretty about chicken poop.)
Fine. No omelets for you.
(Promise?)
Sigh.
We'll see how my idea works. As you see, I still need to get some rocks to finish the look.
I had to hang a little feeder with oyster shell in it:
This afternoon I hauled up several rocks to block access to the underside of the coop. Sunny signed off on it.
[A. I am taking your advice under consideration. But for now, this is my plan.]
Then I had to affix a metal strip on the linoleum because it was lifting up just a little bit on the edge. [The hardware store guy loves me. I'm in there every day.]
And of course there was the interesting and time consuming job of tying the chicken wire to the horse fencing for strength. I did this about a hundred times….
Lord help me.
So, as far as I can tell, once we affix the gate, and I haul up straw for the coop, and mix up my chicken food… I'll be ready.
(Is there any way that I can possibly express how weary I am of this entire subject?)
I don't know. You could try. But in the meantime, go to the creek and bring me back about 2 dozen round white rocks will you?
(Fat chance, Cupcake. You're on your own with the beautification of what is about to turn into hen pecked bare dirt. I give that grass in there about 2 weeks.)
Don't I know it. But I can't help myself. I want it to be kinda pretty.
(There's nothing pretty about chicken poop.)
Fine. No omelets for you.
(Promise?)
Sigh.