If any of you are mothers, you all dread the day when you go pick your kid up at daycare, just to be notified that your child...your precious angel, is the daycare "Biter". Knowing all little children toddle away in horror from the gnashing jaws of your baby. Just as bad, is finding out your child is the "Bitee". The victim with the half moon marks in random places on their skin. And you want nothing more than to smack the "Biter" and meet his/her mom out in the parking lot...
Well...Patty and I soon came to realize that one of our children was a "Pecker" and one...a "Peckee". Now I personally would rather be a biter than a pecker, and I am pretty sure I speak for most of us out there....anyway, back to the situation at hand...
"Jun" our free exotic chick is black with a white dandelion afro on his, (we think he is a rooster,) head. We have started calling him "Papa Steve" because he looks like my stepdad. Bald on top, with a halo of white hair...or feathers in this case. Several times we have gone down to the coop and Papa Steve's head is bald/bleeding. Someone...the Pecker...has pecked his poor little head, and pulled out all of his head feathers. We have been treating his head with a tar/aloe/teatree oil black goop that we have found....and the pecking has seemed to stop...but then again, he has nothing left on his head to pull out. Now its hard to tell who the pecker is. I personally think its Lucy or Ethel, our two Rhode Island Reds....I have seen one of them peck another in the head....but no one actively pecking Papa Steve....So how funny is it that our Cock is a Peckee...and not a Pecker?
Hopefully, once they can be outside, the pecking will stop since they will have more to do, and can stay out of eachothers way.
So...hopefully after what happened to Alice, Papa Steve will be ok...we check on him every day...And be thankful if your kid is just the biter....at least they aren't a pecker...
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
The Stalker
A few weeks ago when we ordered scaffolding from a local rental company, the creep...I mean gentleman, who worked there helped Patty unload the truck. He enquired as to what projects we had going, and she told him we were refurbishing our old barn and building a chicken coop and chicken run. He said he would love to come see it one day, and my Patty who trusts everyone said, "sure! Come on out sometime." When she got in the truck I asked her what her new best friend had said. She told me and I told her that was creepy. For the record, she called me paranoid...
3 weeks later we rented the hydraulic auger again from the same company. And guess who dropped it off?? Creepy McCreeperson. I can't even describe him...he reminds me of someone I've seen on TV....Not sure if it was Lawnmower Man or on The Muppets but it still bugs me... I was in an extreme hurry because we had to get Mariah to her track meet...and Norman Bates wanted a freakin tour of the farm. "Aren't you going to show me your projects?" he asked. I felt like dragging Patty down to deal with him, but since we were in a hurry I pointed..."barn", "chicken coop" etc. He wanted my help getting his truck out of the field, but I told him I had to go. I left him there...greatful the babies were padlocked in their coop.
When we got back home, Jeffery Dahmer was gone, and we were able to start putting our holes in the ground. We expected it to take a few hours...but 13 holes took us all day. After a quick visit from my mom and Steve we called it a day.
On Sunday morning we went out to breakfast leaving the gate open so Ted Bundy could come get the auger. When we got home it was still there. We started putting our posts in the ground and I got an "URGENT" message on my cell phone around 4 o'clock from Jack the Ripper. So I called him back and he said he hadn't come out to get the auger because I hadn't called to say I was done. I told him he said he would be back at ten that morning. He assured me I wouldn't be charged for the extra day, and that he would come get it Monday, the following day. He then asked me what time I left for work the next day, and I said, "early".
I was really proud of the work P and I did that day. We got 3 posts in, and the 2x12planks connecting them. It looked like the stocks people were kept in during the wild west except without the holes. We were badasses!
The next morning about 10:30, Freddy Kreuger called me on my cell phone at work. The conversation went a little something like this...*____* Names and businesses are made up...all though I don't know why I am giving the courtesy...guess I don't want to provoke Pennywise anymore than necessary...
ME: "Hello?"
PSYCHO: "Hi this is *Loser* from *Fisher Price Rentals*. I'm just calling to let you know I picked up the auger, but you knew I was getting the auger, and when you get home tonight, and see its gone, you would have probably guessed I got it, so I guess I didn't have to call...."
ME:"Ok...Thank you."
PSYCHO: "I really like the job you guys did this weekend...it looks great..." (he had to walk around to the other side of the barn to see what we did,) "and the chickens look happy and are doing good today..."(Had to peek into a window in the barn to see them) "and I guess I just wanted to let you guys know, that I really want to be a part of this out here! I am off Wednesdays and Thursdays and Friday evenings...and I want to offer my physical labor to help..."
ME:?!?!?!?!?!"Thanks, but we've got it..."
PSYCHO: "I had a heck of a time loading the auger by myself...good thing I lost all that weight...it would have been nice to have a hand though...Well do you want my cell phone number? Wait, you already have it because I am calling you from it..."
ME: (Note to self)
PSYCHO: "Soooo...give me a call, you have my number...and I really want to give you a hand..."
ME: "I really need to get back to work..."
PSYCHO: "Ok...well um...goodbye."
I immediately text P to let her know we weren't going to be renting from *Fisher Price Rentals* again. She asked why and I filled her in on the phone call. It freaked her out and pissed her off equally, and we both agreed the only thing Michael Meyers was going to be a part of was the back of our fucking shovel. I mean, if he is going to peek in our barn, is he going to peek in our house windows too? Would he call again? Or show up? We agreed to keep the gate to the property locked, and the alarm on the house set. I called my neighbor who is retired and home all the time, to let them know what happened and to call if they see a *Fisher Price Rentals* truck. P wanted to call the company, but I didn't want to give Candyman a reason to call or visit again...We agreed we would call the manager if he made an attempt to contact us again...which he hasn't...
I explained to P that although I am extremely proud of the fact that its all women who run this house...we don't need to advertise to perfect strangers that we're alone out here.
Since The Boston Strangler visited, P has been answering the door with the gun....we rarely have visitors. Funny that we've had more in the last few weeks than in the last year. Patty almost took the census taker out last week.
As for me? I don't think the Canadian Pig Farmer will be back....but I am ready with my shovel...and it's not too late to bury someone behind the barn....
3 weeks later we rented the hydraulic auger again from the same company. And guess who dropped it off?? Creepy McCreeperson. I can't even describe him...he reminds me of someone I've seen on TV....Not sure if it was Lawnmower Man or on The Muppets but it still bugs me... I was in an extreme hurry because we had to get Mariah to her track meet...and Norman Bates wanted a freakin tour of the farm. "Aren't you going to show me your projects?" he asked. I felt like dragging Patty down to deal with him, but since we were in a hurry I pointed..."barn", "chicken coop" etc. He wanted my help getting his truck out of the field, but I told him I had to go. I left him there...greatful the babies were padlocked in their coop.
When we got back home, Jeffery Dahmer was gone, and we were able to start putting our holes in the ground. We expected it to take a few hours...but 13 holes took us all day. After a quick visit from my mom and Steve we called it a day.
On Sunday morning we went out to breakfast leaving the gate open so Ted Bundy could come get the auger. When we got home it was still there. We started putting our posts in the ground and I got an "URGENT" message on my cell phone around 4 o'clock from Jack the Ripper. So I called him back and he said he hadn't come out to get the auger because I hadn't called to say I was done. I told him he said he would be back at ten that morning. He assured me I wouldn't be charged for the extra day, and that he would come get it Monday, the following day. He then asked me what time I left for work the next day, and I said, "early".
I was really proud of the work P and I did that day. We got 3 posts in, and the 2x12planks connecting them. It looked like the stocks people were kept in during the wild west except without the holes. We were badasses!
The next morning about 10:30, Freddy Kreuger called me on my cell phone at work. The conversation went a little something like this...*____* Names and businesses are made up...all though I don't know why I am giving the courtesy...guess I don't want to provoke Pennywise anymore than necessary...
ME: "Hello?"
PSYCHO: "Hi this is *Loser* from *Fisher Price Rentals*. I'm just calling to let you know I picked up the auger, but you knew I was getting the auger, and when you get home tonight, and see its gone, you would have probably guessed I got it, so I guess I didn't have to call...."
ME:"Ok...Thank you."
PSYCHO: "I really like the job you guys did this weekend...it looks great..." (he had to walk around to the other side of the barn to see what we did,) "and the chickens look happy and are doing good today..."(Had to peek into a window in the barn to see them) "and I guess I just wanted to let you guys know, that I really want to be a part of this out here! I am off Wednesdays and Thursdays and Friday evenings...and I want to offer my physical labor to help..."
ME:?!?!?!?!?!"Thanks, but we've got it..."
PSYCHO: "I had a heck of a time loading the auger by myself...good thing I lost all that weight...it would have been nice to have a hand though...Well do you want my cell phone number? Wait, you already have it because I am calling you from it..."
ME: (Note to self)
PSYCHO: "Soooo...give me a call, you have my number...and I really want to give you a hand..."
ME: "I really need to get back to work..."
PSYCHO: "Ok...well um...goodbye."
I immediately text P to let her know we weren't going to be renting from *Fisher Price Rentals* again. She asked why and I filled her in on the phone call. It freaked her out and pissed her off equally, and we both agreed the only thing Michael Meyers was going to be a part of was the back of our fucking shovel. I mean, if he is going to peek in our barn, is he going to peek in our house windows too? Would he call again? Or show up? We agreed to keep the gate to the property locked, and the alarm on the house set. I called my neighbor who is retired and home all the time, to let them know what happened and to call if they see a *Fisher Price Rentals* truck. P wanted to call the company, but I didn't want to give Candyman a reason to call or visit again...We agreed we would call the manager if he made an attempt to contact us again...which he hasn't...
I explained to P that although I am extremely proud of the fact that its all women who run this house...we don't need to advertise to perfect strangers that we're alone out here.
Since The Boston Strangler visited, P has been answering the door with the gun....we rarely have visitors. Funny that we've had more in the last few weeks than in the last year. Patty almost took the census taker out last week.
As for me? I don't think the Canadian Pig Farmer will be back....but I am ready with my shovel...and it's not too late to bury someone behind the barn....
Vegetarian Patty
Oh my poor Patty...it was fate...destiny...what happened to her. I went out to sea for 8 days for work...no contact with the family. When I got home, I had been off the boat no more than 20 minutes when she texted me that she had to tell me something...and did I want her to tell me then or when I got home. Good Lord...things were racing through my head...Mariah got in trouble, Bubba got away and was hit by a car, the barn collapsed, she enjoyed her free time so much she was moving on....I had no idea...but I sure as shit didn't want to wait till I got home.
"One of the chickens died..." she had texted. And then the texts started coming one right after the other..."It was the speckled one"..."She hadn't been doing well"...
Before I had left one of our Speckled Sussex who I named "Alice" (after the vamp in Twilight duh) hadn't been doing well. It seemed she hadn't adjusted to the coop very well, and was just lethargic. She ate and drank with the others, but didn't seem to want to join them in their clucky games. We had big rocks in the corners of the coop holding down the linoleum, and every time we went to check on them she was roosting on a rock, all puffed up...so I figured she was broody...early puberty maybe. While I was out to sea, when P went down to the barn she was just laying in the corner on her rock. The next day she came down she was dead, in the middle of the coop, under the heat lamp. The chickens had taken it upon themselves to peck all of the feathers and skin off her head. Now Patty can kill any bug for me, and can scoop our dogs kennel or the cat boxes without batting an eye. But the sight of Alice was too much for her...She still won't talk about it, but after much gagging she managed to get Alice in a bag and into the garbage. She is still traumatized, and has refused to eat meat...especially chicken, since I got home. Hopefully that will eventually change....kind of hard to run an organic farm and not be able to feed her some of the fruits of our labor. My poor Patty. :(
RIP Alice...we are down to 25 chickens now.
"One of the chickens died..." she had texted. And then the texts started coming one right after the other..."It was the speckled one"..."She hadn't been doing well"...
Before I had left one of our Speckled Sussex who I named "Alice" (after the vamp in Twilight duh) hadn't been doing well. It seemed she hadn't adjusted to the coop very well, and was just lethargic. She ate and drank with the others, but didn't seem to want to join them in their clucky games. We had big rocks in the corners of the coop holding down the linoleum, and every time we went to check on them she was roosting on a rock, all puffed up...so I figured she was broody...early puberty maybe. While I was out to sea, when P went down to the barn she was just laying in the corner on her rock. The next day she came down she was dead, in the middle of the coop, under the heat lamp. The chickens had taken it upon themselves to peck all of the feathers and skin off her head. Now Patty can kill any bug for me, and can scoop our dogs kennel or the cat boxes without batting an eye. But the sight of Alice was too much for her...She still won't talk about it, but after much gagging she managed to get Alice in a bag and into the garbage. She is still traumatized, and has refused to eat meat...especially chicken, since I got home. Hopefully that will eventually change....kind of hard to run an organic farm and not be able to feed her some of the fruits of our labor. My poor Patty. :(
RIP Alice...we are down to 25 chickens now.
CATCH UP!!!
Sorry it has been so long! Life and a business trip have intervened with my blogging, but I am here to jump back on the wagon so to speak...
5 weeks ago, after we finished putting up the siding with the scaffolding, it was moving day for the girls. They were 5 weeks old and out growing their little tub in our extra room. So P, Mariah and I got up early and went down to the barn. We filled their feeder and their water, and threw new pine shavings down, (about 4" deep). I came up to the house to get them...my plan was to put them into one of our old dog kennels. I got the kennel, put a towel in the bottom, and started putting them in one by one with Mariah's help. A few tried to "fly the coop", but it only took about 15 minutes to get all 26 of them in there.
Our plan was to put them in their new coop and then continue working on the back of the barn for the day so we could monitor them. And everything went great! They huddled together for a little while, and I was afraid they wouldn't be able to find their new water....so I dipped a few beaks (I guess I shouldn't have done that at their age...) but I wanted them to know where it was at and to tell the others!!!
So we watched them for about 30 minutes, and then Mariah and Patty climbed up the scaffolding to paint the barn. There was no way it was going to be safe for the 3 of us to get on the scaffolding, so I pulled up a lawn chair and watched them. It looked like a Norman Rockwell painting...two girls painting a barn red...butt cracks peeking out over the tops of their jeans... And it was such a perfect day...the chickens in their new coop...my girls and me...a beautiful day, sun shining...and my dreams coming true seeing the barn turn a beautiful red. Patty kept complaining that the red looked pink, and Mariah managed to get the paint all the way up her brush, her hand and up to her wrist. Thats my girls. :) After the paint dried it was perfect barn red...( "Cherry Tart" at Home Depot).
They ended up painting the top half of the barn, we closed up the coop and returned the staging. Later that night, we both looked at the barn from our window. It was pitch dark, and we were both worried, but not wanting to admit it. We knew they were secure, and they had their heat lamp that was also secure... Wait...was that a flame? I cupped my hands to the sliding glass door and strained my eyes at the tiny orange glow which seemed to flicker in the black barn. I asked Patty if she could see it as I started to pull my jeans back on. We grabbed the binoculars (the barn is about 300 feet from the house,) and I located the orange glow. I called Mariah, (her young eyes are better than mine) to determine what the orange glow was in the barn. My only solace was that I had been staring at the barn for 5 minutes, and it hadn't erupted into flame....were they being abducted by aliens? Was somebody down there? I was about to walk out the door to go check on my children when Mariah and Patty said almost at the same time, "Isn't that the end of the extension cord? The cord you used to plug in the heat lamp?" Oh....I didn't want to go down to the barn anyway... :/
In the past 5 weeks, "The Girls" have grown tremendously. They know where their water and food are, they show off by jumping up on their 2nd and 3rd perches, and a few of them cluck now, but most of them still peep. We give them vegetable scraps, (they love tomatoes, cucumbers and strawberries the most. They also love grapes, but we have to slice them in half because the skins are too tough for them to peck through.) A few weeks ago we gave them their first treat of cottage cheese which is suppose to be really good for them...It was gross to watch them try to scratch in it, but I imagine the cold felt really good between their toes? We also started them on grit. We give it to them in a separate feeder.
Next is the chicken run. It is 24 ft, (the length of the back of the barn) by 15 feet. It is going to be made of pressure treated posts which will be set in concrete, pressure treated lumber, a combination of horse fence and chicken wire, and will be fully enclosed with a slanted roof for rain/snow run off. Now I know this is excessive. Most people build their chicken runs with pallets, a couple branches and some wire. But this house and property was a junk yard when I bought it, and the last thing I want to see when I look at my barn is a pile of pallets and junk housing animals. So we are going the extra mile!!!
5 weeks ago, after we finished putting up the siding with the scaffolding, it was moving day for the girls. They were 5 weeks old and out growing their little tub in our extra room. So P, Mariah and I got up early and went down to the barn. We filled their feeder and their water, and threw new pine shavings down, (about 4" deep). I came up to the house to get them...my plan was to put them into one of our old dog kennels. I got the kennel, put a towel in the bottom, and started putting them in one by one with Mariah's help. A few tried to "fly the coop", but it only took about 15 minutes to get all 26 of them in there.
Our plan was to put them in their new coop and then continue working on the back of the barn for the day so we could monitor them. And everything went great! They huddled together for a little while, and I was afraid they wouldn't be able to find their new water....so I dipped a few beaks (I guess I shouldn't have done that at their age...) but I wanted them to know where it was at and to tell the others!!!
So we watched them for about 30 minutes, and then Mariah and Patty climbed up the scaffolding to paint the barn. There was no way it was going to be safe for the 3 of us to get on the scaffolding, so I pulled up a lawn chair and watched them. It looked like a Norman Rockwell painting...two girls painting a barn red...butt cracks peeking out over the tops of their jeans... And it was such a perfect day...the chickens in their new coop...my girls and me...a beautiful day, sun shining...and my dreams coming true seeing the barn turn a beautiful red. Patty kept complaining that the red looked pink, and Mariah managed to get the paint all the way up her brush, her hand and up to her wrist. Thats my girls. :) After the paint dried it was perfect barn red...( "Cherry Tart" at Home Depot).
They ended up painting the top half of the barn, we closed up the coop and returned the staging. Later that night, we both looked at the barn from our window. It was pitch dark, and we were both worried, but not wanting to admit it. We knew they were secure, and they had their heat lamp that was also secure... Wait...was that a flame? I cupped my hands to the sliding glass door and strained my eyes at the tiny orange glow which seemed to flicker in the black barn. I asked Patty if she could see it as I started to pull my jeans back on. We grabbed the binoculars (the barn is about 300 feet from the house,) and I located the orange glow. I called Mariah, (her young eyes are better than mine) to determine what the orange glow was in the barn. My only solace was that I had been staring at the barn for 5 minutes, and it hadn't erupted into flame....were they being abducted by aliens? Was somebody down there? I was about to walk out the door to go check on my children when Mariah and Patty said almost at the same time, "Isn't that the end of the extension cord? The cord you used to plug in the heat lamp?" Oh....I didn't want to go down to the barn anyway... :/
In the past 5 weeks, "The Girls" have grown tremendously. They know where their water and food are, they show off by jumping up on their 2nd and 3rd perches, and a few of them cluck now, but most of them still peep. We give them vegetable scraps, (they love tomatoes, cucumbers and strawberries the most. They also love grapes, but we have to slice them in half because the skins are too tough for them to peck through.) A few weeks ago we gave them their first treat of cottage cheese which is suppose to be really good for them...It was gross to watch them try to scratch in it, but I imagine the cold felt really good between their toes? We also started them on grit. We give it to them in a separate feeder.
Next is the chicken run. It is 24 ft, (the length of the back of the barn) by 15 feet. It is going to be made of pressure treated posts which will be set in concrete, pressure treated lumber, a combination of horse fence and chicken wire, and will be fully enclosed with a slanted roof for rain/snow run off. Now I know this is excessive. Most people build their chicken runs with pallets, a couple branches and some wire. But this house and property was a junk yard when I bought it, and the last thing I want to see when I look at my barn is a pile of pallets and junk housing animals. So we are going the extra mile!!!
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