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!!!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010 "YOU ARE A FARM GIRL"
This was going to be the big weekend. The girls were 5 weeks old, and way too big to be in their little tub we had made for them. The house smelled like a coop, they "flew the coop" every time we lifted their screen cover and the dust was like a crematorium had exploded. It was gross. They finally had their feathers, (mostly), and we decided we were going to do whatever it took to get them to the barn this weekend.
We got up really early on Saturday, around 7am, and headed to the local rental place to pick up scaffolding. Dixie's running lights still don't work, (it's not the bulbs), so we had to wait till the sun was up to leave the house so we wouldn't be pulled over again.
About an hour later we were down at the barn, setting up the scaffolding. It was a little bit windy, but at least it wasn't raining. We got the scaffolding up...surprisingly it wasn't too difficult. We then finished stapling up the tyvek wrap and started putting up the top row of T1-11. By the time we hit the second piece, we knew something wasn't right. P was getting pissed, swearing it was the flashing we had put up. The bottom right corner would fit, but to make it level the bottom left corner had to be lifted about a quarter inch. We knew the bottom row was completely level, so we began to wonder if it was possibly the sheets of T1-11 that weren't cut straight. We decided to move on, lining up the grooves and keeping the sheets level, and gradually the problem got worse. By the time we put the second to the last piece up, the bottom right corner fit tight, but the bottom left corner was raised almost an inch. We decided that we could cover the seam with a 2x6 when it was done, and make it look like "trim". "Trim" solves many problems.
At this point we were only 5 feet up. The contraption was huge, and we were both stalling on putting the second level up to reach the peak of the barn which is 17feet.
We decided the best way to finish the day was to finish the inside of the coop so we could get the girls in there Sunday morning.
Patty got to work cutting out the vent hole in the wall, and I started the platform for their waterer to go on. Both jobs went fairly quick and once again we were very impressed with our skills. All that was left in the coop was to wash the walls with vinegar water, (I read somewhere it was safer for the chicks than using bleach, but just as effective,) and to recaulk some of the seams in the walls and ceiling of the coop. Well, after searching for about 45 minutes, high and low, we realized our caulking gun was missing. Damn it...guess we have to go to Ace.
So we jumped in my Tahoe, and on the way to town, decided to get chai's and run by the feed store for some more pine shavings for the girl's coop. While walking around the feed store, I went to scratch my belly...(oh come on! who doesn't do that?!) and I felt what felt like a scab or like a drop of sap or something about an inch below my belly button. So without thinking I began to pick at it...only half wondering how I could have gotten sap on my stomach, because it was really stuck there. I came around the corner behind Patty when I managed to pull it off. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! (sorry if that offended anyone) it was a %&#$!#^ tick!!! And it was alive! I dropped it and the room began to swim. I somehow communicated to Patty (not sure if it was grunts or sign language) that I just pulled the tick out of my stomach and probably more out of reflex, she stomped on it as the little mother %^#$*@ tried to make a quick get away. I felt my saliva glands began to overwork, and my eyes filled with tears. "I'm going to be sick, I think I'm going to throw up." I told her. She must have believed me by the look on my face because she pointed her finger at me and said, "YOU ARE A FARM GIRL! YOU STOP IT RIGHT NOW!" I was applying pressure to my stomach where the tick came out, because it hurt so bad, and I followed her to the counter to pay. By the time I got there a new wave of nausea overcame me when I began to think about if the head was still in my stomach. I grabbed her by the arm. "If the head is still in there you have to pull it out for me." I said. "Oh my God I'm going to be sick..." and I told her I would meet her out at the car. I went to the Tahoe and opened the door to shield me from any on lookers that may pass by, and I lifted my sweatshirt and looked down at my stomach half expecting to see another one waving at me or flipping me the bird. All I saw was a red spot of blood...ok ok it was tiny...but it was still blood and it hurt like hell. No little tick head to mount in my barn as a trophy. P came out with our purchases and asked me if I was alright. "No head" was what I managed to get out. We headed to Ace and I know we were both thinkin the same thing. You know how when you hear someone has head lice and just hearing it makes your head itch?? Well just knowing there was a tick that somehow found its way to behind the button of my jeans made my skin crawl...gave us both the downright heeby jeebys.
In Ace my stomach began to cramp pretty bad. I was nauseous and tried to do some deep breathing exercises moving down the aisle. I started thinking I should have captured the tick. What if I had to go to the doctor? What if it had lime disease? Or rabies for cryin out loud? Stupid tick. I thought about the time Bubba had the tick for over a year, (we thought it was a mole.) When we realized his mole had little legs and pulled it out did his stomach cramp too?
I was determined to move on with the day...refusing to let the now dead tick ruin our mojo. Patty came across a roll of linoleum and had the great idea to put it down on the concrete in the bottom of the coop. The existing concrete was stained with something that looked like oil and we were worried about the babies having access to it and getting sick. Plus, the thought of just being able to pull the linoleum out and spraying it down and putting it back was a plus. So we got the roll of linoleum, a caulking gun and some other goodies and headed home.
When we got back to the barn, we got the bucket of vinegar water, and began scrubbing the walls. After what seemed like forever, Patty used the caulking gun and filled the seams and small gaps in the walls and ceiling.
We checked the time. It had been ten hours since we left the house to get the scaffolding!! We headed up to the house, undressed and checked each other for ticks.
Fortunately, there were no more, and my stomach cramping was gone by morning.
We got up really early on Saturday, around 7am, and headed to the local rental place to pick up scaffolding. Dixie's running lights still don't work, (it's not the bulbs), so we had to wait till the sun was up to leave the house so we wouldn't be pulled over again.
About an hour later we were down at the barn, setting up the scaffolding. It was a little bit windy, but at least it wasn't raining. We got the scaffolding up...surprisingly it wasn't too difficult. We then finished stapling up the tyvek wrap and started putting up the top row of T1-11. By the time we hit the second piece, we knew something wasn't right. P was getting pissed, swearing it was the flashing we had put up. The bottom right corner would fit, but to make it level the bottom left corner had to be lifted about a quarter inch. We knew the bottom row was completely level, so we began to wonder if it was possibly the sheets of T1-11 that weren't cut straight. We decided to move on, lining up the grooves and keeping the sheets level, and gradually the problem got worse. By the time we put the second to the last piece up, the bottom right corner fit tight, but the bottom left corner was raised almost an inch. We decided that we could cover the seam with a 2x6 when it was done, and make it look like "trim". "Trim" solves many problems.
At this point we were only 5 feet up. The contraption was huge, and we were both stalling on putting the second level up to reach the peak of the barn which is 17feet.
We decided the best way to finish the day was to finish the inside of the coop so we could get the girls in there Sunday morning.
Patty got to work cutting out the vent hole in the wall, and I started the platform for their waterer to go on. Both jobs went fairly quick and once again we were very impressed with our skills. All that was left in the coop was to wash the walls with vinegar water, (I read somewhere it was safer for the chicks than using bleach, but just as effective,) and to recaulk some of the seams in the walls and ceiling of the coop. Well, after searching for about 45 minutes, high and low, we realized our caulking gun was missing. Damn it...guess we have to go to Ace.
So we jumped in my Tahoe, and on the way to town, decided to get chai's and run by the feed store for some more pine shavings for the girl's coop. While walking around the feed store, I went to scratch my belly...(oh come on! who doesn't do that?!) and I felt what felt like a scab or like a drop of sap or something about an inch below my belly button. So without thinking I began to pick at it...only half wondering how I could have gotten sap on my stomach, because it was really stuck there. I came around the corner behind Patty when I managed to pull it off. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! (sorry if that offended anyone) it was a %&#$!#^ tick!!! And it was alive! I dropped it and the room began to swim. I somehow communicated to Patty (not sure if it was grunts or sign language) that I just pulled the tick out of my stomach and probably more out of reflex, she stomped on it as the little mother %^#$*@ tried to make a quick get away. I felt my saliva glands began to overwork, and my eyes filled with tears. "I'm going to be sick, I think I'm going to throw up." I told her. She must have believed me by the look on my face because she pointed her finger at me and said, "YOU ARE A FARM GIRL! YOU STOP IT RIGHT NOW!" I was applying pressure to my stomach where the tick came out, because it hurt so bad, and I followed her to the counter to pay. By the time I got there a new wave of nausea overcame me when I began to think about if the head was still in my stomach. I grabbed her by the arm. "If the head is still in there you have to pull it out for me." I said. "Oh my God I'm going to be sick..." and I told her I would meet her out at the car. I went to the Tahoe and opened the door to shield me from any on lookers that may pass by, and I lifted my sweatshirt and looked down at my stomach half expecting to see another one waving at me or flipping me the bird. All I saw was a red spot of blood...ok ok it was tiny...but it was still blood and it hurt like hell. No little tick head to mount in my barn as a trophy. P came out with our purchases and asked me if I was alright. "No head" was what I managed to get out. We headed to Ace and I know we were both thinkin the same thing. You know how when you hear someone has head lice and just hearing it makes your head itch?? Well just knowing there was a tick that somehow found its way to behind the button of my jeans made my skin crawl...gave us both the downright heeby jeebys.
In Ace my stomach began to cramp pretty bad. I was nauseous and tried to do some deep breathing exercises moving down the aisle. I started thinking I should have captured the tick. What if I had to go to the doctor? What if it had lime disease? Or rabies for cryin out loud? Stupid tick. I thought about the time Bubba had the tick for over a year, (we thought it was a mole.) When we realized his mole had little legs and pulled it out did his stomach cramp too?
I was determined to move on with the day...refusing to let the now dead tick ruin our mojo. Patty came across a roll of linoleum and had the great idea to put it down on the concrete in the bottom of the coop. The existing concrete was stained with something that looked like oil and we were worried about the babies having access to it and getting sick. Plus, the thought of just being able to pull the linoleum out and spraying it down and putting it back was a plus. So we got the roll of linoleum, a caulking gun and some other goodies and headed home.
When we got back to the barn, we got the bucket of vinegar water, and began scrubbing the walls. After what seemed like forever, Patty used the caulking gun and filled the seams and small gaps in the walls and ceiling.
We checked the time. It had been ten hours since we left the house to get the scaffolding!! We headed up to the house, undressed and checked each other for ticks.
Fortunately, there were no more, and my stomach cramping was gone by morning.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
April 3, 2010 Every little bit helps...
It was pouring...but the girls are 4 weeks now, and not fitting very well into their tub anymore so we have to keep going. We headed down to the barn and looked at what we had left to do. The top row of siding was still looming ahead of us, but we still had no idea how we were going to get up there or make the complicated cuts to form the gable roof of the barn.
I started hooking up extension cords and hooked up the brand new tri-pod work light I got us. "LET THERE BE LIGHT!" The spotlight showed on our work table and lit up the inside of the barn. I already felt like something was accomplished....
Patty was determined to get the measurements for the first upper row piece...
We went out into the rain and I held her ladder while she went up to get the measurements. She kept her body as close as possible to the barn, and I lowered my face to keep the rain from hitting it. After about 5 minutes of measurements she came down.
We went back into the barn and grabbed a fresh piece of T1-11. Measuring and cutting was a piece of cake under our new work light! We took the piece back out into the rain and almost killed eachother trying to get it up the ladder and in place. IT FIT!!! We brought it back into the barn, deciding that we would wait until better weather to do the top row.
About 20 minutes later the rain eased up a bit, and we ran out to put the flashing on top of the bottom row of boards. (Something the Great Oracle told me we needed.) We argued the whole time about if we really needed it, if it fit right, and if it would mess up the top row of T1-11. I told P the Great Oracle doesn't lie and that he knows better than we do so she finished nailing it up...growling under her breath.
I knew we were both irritated at this point....With the rain, how cold we were, how much we had to go, that the house still had to be cleaned, grocery shopping and laundry had to be done, etc etc etc.
But we had to keep going...had to make some kind of progress besides flashing and cutting one board.
So we decided to build the perch inside the coop. We bickered about that too. I was trying to calculate in my head. I had brought our "Barnyard in your Backyard" book down with me so I wouldn't have to memorize measurements and so I could show P the picture. 8" of perch per bird x 26 birds, 12" between each perch vertically and 18" between them horizontally. I drew a rough sketch and P started cutting 2x6s. We bought 2" diameter railing for perches and cut them each 64" long. We had 3 of them, which made enough for 24 birds. Oh well, they would have to take turns. Besides, chances are we have at least one rooster, so it would probably be perfect. I was still trying to calculate in my head when P grabbed the nail gun... Ok...we'll put them up now. I bit my lip and pointed where I wanted the perches. POW POW POW and the first one was on. It actually looked pretty good. POW POW POW POW POW POW POW and the other 2 were on. It actually looked pretty good. I wanted to grab the tape measure, (and did when she walked out). I wanted to verify they were 12" and 18" blah blah blah. It didn't matter anymore....they weren't going anywhere. It looked pretty good anyway.
Before we called it a day we added a perch and a front rail to the nest box we made. We then hung it to the wall. It looked so cute!!!
We didn't bother cleaning up since we were planning on coming down the following day. We headed up to the house arm in arm. It had been a long, but good day.
Around 6 o'clock that night I felt a sharp pain in my throat and felt it starting to swell... By the time I went to bed I could barely swallow. I was on my second week of antibiotics! I couldn't be getting sick!
I started hooking up extension cords and hooked up the brand new tri-pod work light I got us. "LET THERE BE LIGHT!" The spotlight showed on our work table and lit up the inside of the barn. I already felt like something was accomplished....
Patty was determined to get the measurements for the first upper row piece...
We went out into the rain and I held her ladder while she went up to get the measurements. She kept her body as close as possible to the barn, and I lowered my face to keep the rain from hitting it. After about 5 minutes of measurements she came down.
We went back into the barn and grabbed a fresh piece of T1-11. Measuring and cutting was a piece of cake under our new work light! We took the piece back out into the rain and almost killed eachother trying to get it up the ladder and in place. IT FIT!!! We brought it back into the barn, deciding that we would wait until better weather to do the top row.
About 20 minutes later the rain eased up a bit, and we ran out to put the flashing on top of the bottom row of boards. (Something the Great Oracle told me we needed.) We argued the whole time about if we really needed it, if it fit right, and if it would mess up the top row of T1-11. I told P the Great Oracle doesn't lie and that he knows better than we do so she finished nailing it up...growling under her breath.
I knew we were both irritated at this point....With the rain, how cold we were, how much we had to go, that the house still had to be cleaned, grocery shopping and laundry had to be done, etc etc etc.
But we had to keep going...had to make some kind of progress besides flashing and cutting one board.
So we decided to build the perch inside the coop. We bickered about that too. I was trying to calculate in my head. I had brought our "Barnyard in your Backyard" book down with me so I wouldn't have to memorize measurements and so I could show P the picture. 8" of perch per bird x 26 birds, 12" between each perch vertically and 18" between them horizontally. I drew a rough sketch and P started cutting 2x6s. We bought 2" diameter railing for perches and cut them each 64" long. We had 3 of them, which made enough for 24 birds. Oh well, they would have to take turns. Besides, chances are we have at least one rooster, so it would probably be perfect. I was still trying to calculate in my head when P grabbed the nail gun... Ok...we'll put them up now. I bit my lip and pointed where I wanted the perches. POW POW POW and the first one was on. It actually looked pretty good. POW POW POW POW POW POW POW and the other 2 were on. It actually looked pretty good. I wanted to grab the tape measure, (and did when she walked out). I wanted to verify they were 12" and 18" blah blah blah. It didn't matter anymore....they weren't going anywhere. It looked pretty good anyway.
Before we called it a day we added a perch and a front rail to the nest box we made. We then hung it to the wall. It looked so cute!!!
We didn't bother cleaning up since we were planning on coming down the following day. We headed up to the house arm in arm. It had been a long, but good day.
Around 6 o'clock that night I felt a sharp pain in my throat and felt it starting to swell... By the time I went to bed I could barely swallow. I was on my second week of antibiotics! I couldn't be getting sick!
March 29, 2010 Visiting the Great Oracle...
It was a blustery day at work, but I knew I had to go see him. The Great Oracle, also known as our pal "Fibbs". Fibbs is the smartest person I know in the whole wide world about all things construction, landscaping or HGTV. P and I were absolutely perplexed on how to do the roof for the chicken run...and Fibbs is great at breaking things down Barney style, and topping off all conversations with a pep talk, so it was off to see the Great and wise Oracle I went.
I walked almost a mile I think...in and out of buildings, across bridges, against the pouring rain...barefoot...backwords...just kidding.
The smell of saw dust let me know I was close...I opened his office door and saw his wise face...happy to see me.
I pulled an office chair up to his wheelchair (gang fight)...(kidding), and pulled the wrinkled piece of paper out of my pocket. I made him a crude drawing of what we planned. Where the barn was, where we were planning on putting the run, dimensions etc. The Great Oracle got the look on his face that he ALWAYS gets when I share my ideas. Something along the lines of "Becky why the hell do you always want the biggest, craziest most difficult contraptions?" BECAUSE IT'S FOR YOUR 26 NIECES FIBBS!!! They need the best!
So he began to tell me what it would take to build my chicken run...I heard the words "lagbolts", "supports", "load supporting", and "every 6 inches". And that was only the first paragraph. My head began to swim and I asked for plan B. He said we could build the run and roof free standing so the posts held the weight and not our old barn. That sounded like a better idea. So I put in my order for a drawing and some Barney style directions and he said he would get on it.
I gave him a hug, and he said he was proud of us.
I headed back out into the weather feeling super smart....just because I knew someone super smart. Thanks Fibbs....for all you do, all your support, and for just being you. :)
I walked almost a mile I think...in and out of buildings, across bridges, against the pouring rain...barefoot...backwords...just kidding.
The smell of saw dust let me know I was close...I opened his office door and saw his wise face...happy to see me.
I pulled an office chair up to his wheelchair (gang fight)...(kidding), and pulled the wrinkled piece of paper out of my pocket. I made him a crude drawing of what we planned. Where the barn was, where we were planning on putting the run, dimensions etc. The Great Oracle got the look on his face that he ALWAYS gets when I share my ideas. Something along the lines of "Becky why the hell do you always want the biggest, craziest most difficult contraptions?" BECAUSE IT'S FOR YOUR 26 NIECES FIBBS!!! They need the best!
So he began to tell me what it would take to build my chicken run...I heard the words "lagbolts", "supports", "load supporting", and "every 6 inches". And that was only the first paragraph. My head began to swim and I asked for plan B. He said we could build the run and roof free standing so the posts held the weight and not our old barn. That sounded like a better idea. So I put in my order for a drawing and some Barney style directions and he said he would get on it.
I gave him a hug, and he said he was proud of us.
I headed back out into the weather feeling super smart....just because I knew someone super smart. Thanks Fibbs....for all you do, all your support, and for just being you. :)
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