Last night I went outside for 2 reasons. One, to shut the chickens in their hen house, do a last egg check and two, get some firewood for the stove. Once the boys settled down for bed and the noise was at a dull roar I headed out to do my evening chores.
When I go to the hen house the birds are all roosting on their bar to sleep and keep warm. I always stand just outside the door to do a count just to be sure they all made it back inside. Fifteen, all are accounted for. Once I have the count I do a last check in the boxes for eggs. There is one last egg of the day so I proceeded to put it in the pocket of my jacket and shut the door to the hen house. All is well with the birds for the night.
Next is to fill the wood box and bring it into the house to maintain warmth. The wind was cold last night and we live in an old house. It likes to find cracks and crevices so that it can swirl its way in in an attempt to battle me and my attempts to keep the house warm. With the wood box full, I slowly work my way around the obstacles that are in my path. I get the box to the porch and proceed to put it in the living room so that I can feed the beast his nightly meal of wood.
Once I put the wood box down I notice something wet on my pants. Completely baffled I touch the wet spot and look around the box to see if there was a hidden pocket of water somewhere. Nothing. Then I put my hand in my jacket pocket and feel more wetness. Still baffled I look around to try and figure out what is going on. Why am I wet? Again I stick my hand in my jacket pocket only to find a puddle in the pocket. Why is there a puddle in my pocket? Finally my brain kicks into gear and the connection is made.
When I picked up the wood box the forgotten egg went SPLAT! Sadly it took me about 90 seconds to realize what the puddle of goo was in my pocket, the last egg of the day.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
F'n Roosters....
Roosters suck! I, the one who takes good care of the birds, was attacked by not one, but two roosters today and let me tell you I was in no mood to tangle. My mood and or tolerance for any such altercation, bird or boys, was very limited indeed.
It all started with Mr. D, a Danish Leghorn, who happened to be in my personal space. He was between me and my door. I needed to get into the house and he was in my way. I calmly start to walk by and what do I get? An attack of the fowl. Well let me tell you he got an attack I hope he remembers.....he was, literally, kicked off the porch, but came back for more. I gave him another kick, a hard one and then I picked up the nearest item, which happened to be one of the boys mud boots and hucked it as hard as I could at the da** bird. Nailed him! Boy that felt good. After a good a** kickin' Mr. D decided he was done tangling with me.
Not two seconds later I am headed into the coop to collect eggs, clean water, and make sure they have some food and Rhodie follows me into the pen. Well he has had his eye on me for some time. I think he decided he had big enough balls to attack......and attack he did! Well, I gave him a good a** kickin' too! He went a** over tea kettle and slammed into the fence. That one felt good too! I could tell he wanted more, but I think he thought better of it. Instead he just watched me to see what I was going to do and where I was going to go. He eyed me all the way out of the pen. The worst part of it is that I lost an egg in my altercation with Rhodie.
If those 2 cocks think they are going to have a piece of this chick they are going to have to think again. I just may have to go in there and wrap my hands around their necks and let them know that they will be dinner if they decide to challenge me again. Da** birds! I WILL get the better of them, I will!
It all started with Mr. D, a Danish Leghorn, who happened to be in my personal space. He was between me and my door. I needed to get into the house and he was in my way. I calmly start to walk by and what do I get? An attack of the fowl. Well let me tell you he got an attack I hope he remembers.....he was, literally, kicked off the porch, but came back for more. I gave him another kick, a hard one and then I picked up the nearest item, which happened to be one of the boys mud boots and hucked it as hard as I could at the da** bird. Nailed him! Boy that felt good. After a good a** kickin' Mr. D decided he was done tangling with me.
Not two seconds later I am headed into the coop to collect eggs, clean water, and make sure they have some food and Rhodie follows me into the pen. Well he has had his eye on me for some time. I think he decided he had big enough balls to attack......and attack he did! Well, I gave him a good a** kickin' too! He went a** over tea kettle and slammed into the fence. That one felt good too! I could tell he wanted more, but I think he thought better of it. Instead he just watched me to see what I was going to do and where I was going to go. He eyed me all the way out of the pen. The worst part of it is that I lost an egg in my altercation with Rhodie.
If those 2 cocks think they are going to have a piece of this chick they are going to have to think again. I just may have to go in there and wrap my hands around their necks and let them know that they will be dinner if they decide to challenge me again. Da** birds! I WILL get the better of them, I will!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
GRRRR....
So what is it about a child who lovingly gives something and then takes it back or destroys it when they feel they are in trouble? Anyone? Yeah, I can't answer that one either.
Yesterday is a prime example of this. We went to a place called Pump It Up for a birthday party. Great place to have parties and tires the kids out so bed time is easy peasy. Anyway, we get home and my #2 decides to GIVE me his balloon.
#2: Here mom, you can have my balloon.
Me: Thanks, that is very nice of you to share.
As the afternoon progresses he starts to antagonize his 2 brothers and they are about to lose it, big time. They tell him over and over to stop whatever it is he is doing.............he doesn't. What a surprise!
I walk over to him and take the items in his hand, his beloved dog (which he has had since the day he was born) and a soft ball with nobbies on it. As always I am deemed "The Bad Guy" and he begins his rant.
#2: Fine mom, I'm gonna take MY balloon back and POP it.
Me: Okay, if that is what you want to do.
#1 & #3: Mom he is going to pop your balloon!
Me: Yeah, that is typical! He always offers to give me something and then when he is in trouble or feels he is in trouble he takes it back and destroys it.
Who does that? Am I alone? I am at the point where I want to tell him NOT to GIVE me anything. There are always conditions with his "gifts" and I don't want them if I have to jump through hoops for the gift to be a "genuine" gift.
Yesterday is a prime example of this. We went to a place called Pump It Up for a birthday party. Great place to have parties and tires the kids out so bed time is easy peasy. Anyway, we get home and my #2 decides to GIVE me his balloon.
#2: Here mom, you can have my balloon.
Me: Thanks, that is very nice of you to share.
As the afternoon progresses he starts to antagonize his 2 brothers and they are about to lose it, big time. They tell him over and over to stop whatever it is he is doing.............he doesn't. What a surprise!
I walk over to him and take the items in his hand, his beloved dog (which he has had since the day he was born) and a soft ball with nobbies on it. As always I am deemed "The Bad Guy" and he begins his rant.
#2: Fine mom, I'm gonna take MY balloon back and POP it.
Me: Okay, if that is what you want to do.
#1 & #3: Mom he is going to pop your balloon!
Me: Yeah, that is typical! He always offers to give me something and then when he is in trouble or feels he is in trouble he takes it back and destroys it.
Who does that? Am I alone? I am at the point where I want to tell him NOT to GIVE me anything. There are always conditions with his "gifts" and I don't want them if I have to jump through hoops for the gift to be a "genuine" gift.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Rooster Alert!
My #2 can be a pill. I love him to death, but he has a knack for tormenting his brothers and cousins. He likes to stir the "proverbial" pot just to get things going. It is aggravating to all involved. He is afraid of a few things, one of them being his "beloved" roosters. He gives them great accolades, but when it comes down to it he is terrified of them.
I sort of take pleasure in the fact that he is terrified of the roosters. Here is a great example of some simple humor for a mom of a ruffian. I went next door, for what reason I cannot say as I have forgotten. At the time of my disappearance my 3 boys were winding down from school and carpool, I let them watch a 1/2 sitcom on Disney or some such thing. Well when I got back from my SIL's house I hear some whimpering coming from behind our garbage can, lo and behold there is boy #2 in a crouch squeezed between the garbage can and the fence it backs up to, more whimpering. I take one look and ask "What's the problem? Why are you sitting back there whimpering?" He is too upset to answer me so I take a look around. What do I see? The roosters. Minding their own business, scratching, crowing, pecking, looking around. They don't have a care in the world and the last thing on their mind is a 6 year old too afraid to move for fear of being spurred.
Call me cruel but when he is reduced to tears and in fear of a silly little bird it makes me laugh. Not just a giggle, but one of those laughs that come from deep in the belly, make you want to cry kind of laugh. I just can't help but laugh. This boy who struts around trying to reduce his brothers and cousins to this state has been given the hammer, so to speak, by 2 territorial roosters. Don't get me wrong, if they feel threatened they will inflict pain, but this is something only #1 has experienced. I think seeing him get the brunt of the fowl has scarred him for life.
I sort of take pleasure in the fact that he is terrified of the roosters. Here is a great example of some simple humor for a mom of a ruffian. I went next door, for what reason I cannot say as I have forgotten. At the time of my disappearance my 3 boys were winding down from school and carpool, I let them watch a 1/2 sitcom on Disney or some such thing. Well when I got back from my SIL's house I hear some whimpering coming from behind our garbage can, lo and behold there is boy #2 in a crouch squeezed between the garbage can and the fence it backs up to, more whimpering. I take one look and ask "What's the problem? Why are you sitting back there whimpering?" He is too upset to answer me so I take a look around. What do I see? The roosters. Minding their own business, scratching, crowing, pecking, looking around. They don't have a care in the world and the last thing on their mind is a 6 year old too afraid to move for fear of being spurred.
Call me cruel but when he is reduced to tears and in fear of a silly little bird it makes me laugh. Not just a giggle, but one of those laughs that come from deep in the belly, make you want to cry kind of laugh. I just can't help but laugh. This boy who struts around trying to reduce his brothers and cousins to this state has been given the hammer, so to speak, by 2 territorial roosters. Don't get me wrong, if they feel threatened they will inflict pain, but this is something only #1 has experienced. I think seeing him get the brunt of the fowl has scarred him for life.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
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