Sure FELT like the longest day of the year.
To bed at 3AM or something, up at 7Am (3AM "normal" people time) to take the RV to get it's heater motor replaced at Doug's RV two miles away. Caffeinated, barely. Hung out, cleaned the kitchen while Doug banged around outside. He's done SO many of these, I'm convinced he could do it blind. Just about did with his polarized bifocals going all dark on him. Tami was nice enough to let us finish off the morning's pot of coffee.
So His Dougness made short work of that, we figured while we were out we'd empty tanks, and drove on the the fairground. Tanks emptied, no problem. On the way back I realized it was still FING EARLY, and there was Monroe Farm and Feed. "BEEBEE CHEKANZ!" I say to Mike.
"Do you want to stop?" He asks.
"Yes" I reply sheepishly. I'm FINE. We go in, I sniff a couple of fuzzy little chickens, we leave, buying something nice for our flock back home, perhaps. I look at all the breeds of chicks they have, pick up a cuckoo maran and hold it out for a little girl who was there to pet. Suddenly Mike starts making squeaky noises "Awww, he's all jumping at me!" One of the three remaining Ameraucanas is jumping up at Mike. He picks it up. "Awww!" I look around at the other birds, hoping he'll lose interest or the other family in there will want it. I can resist taking baby chickens home, I CANNOT resist Mike in full Squee AND a baby chicken.
"OK, grab one of the Marans too." I say. Before we knew it we were buying a bag of chick feed and the cashier was getting a box.
"I can't believe we just fing did that."
We stop at Grocery Outlet for supplies, and head home. I set up the leveling blocks FOUR times, they keep slipping. Clear out the bathtub, crack open a bale of hay and get the birds settled in.
Phone Rings a couple times, I talk to people, talk to the landlords, show them the pullets (they'd BETTER be pullets), and check e-mail. I make Mike & I a sandwich, feed the goats, and TRY to get a half hour nap. Baby chickens will tell you when they are not happy, in a simple, pleading way. Not like a baby, like the familiar tone of a car alarm, makes you smile a little because someone else has to deal with it...then you realize the car alarm is yours. I get up to see both of them have escaped the tub and are wandering around on the bathroom floor. I put them back in the tub and show them again where their food and water is.
This happens at least three times during the day.
Then I clean out the chicken pen. This involves a lot of moving nesting boxes, odor, hay, and a pitchfork. I water the chickens.
Mike takes off to see a friend after another hour of sleep than I got. *envy*.
Then the landlord asks for my help in the garden, which I gladly give. 300 square feet of land was put to use. While the landlords are discussing what goes where, my BFF calls. I tell her about my day, and the 3' deep "garden rows" the landlord dug with a BACKHOE, and we laugh. I get to planting, We plant a huge mess of starts, mostly squash. I have a bit of dinner kindly offered me by the landlord and FINALLY go in and check on the new birds.
WORK! My computer is freezing up and won't connect. While waiting for it to do something I eviscerate a cardboard 6-pack box of Hornsby's, put some toilet paper in there and set it down with the chicks behind my laptop so they can be all warm by the fan. I expect them to go to sleep.
Two hours later, chasing one around and putting her back in the tub, then back again, they pass out, heads draped over each other. Awww. I finally get a smattering of work done.
So His Dougness made short work of that, we figured while we were out we'd empty tanks, and drove on the the fairground. Tanks emptied, no problem. On the way back I realized it was still FING EARLY, and there was Monroe Farm and Feed. "BEEBEE CHEKANZ!" I say to Mike.
"Do you want to stop?" He asks.
"Yes" I reply sheepishly. I'm FINE. We go in, I sniff a couple of fuzzy little chickens, we leave, buying something nice for our flock back home, perhaps. I look at all the breeds of chicks they have, pick up a cuckoo maran and hold it out for a little girl who was there to pet. Suddenly Mike starts making squeaky noises "Awww, he's all jumping at me!" One of the three remaining Ameraucanas is jumping up at Mike. He picks it up. "Awww!" I look around at the other birds, hoping he'll lose interest or the other family in there will want it. I can resist taking baby chickens home, I CANNOT resist Mike in full Squee AND a baby chicken.
"OK, grab one of the Marans too." I say. Before we knew it we were buying a bag of chick feed and the cashier was getting a box.
"I can't believe we just fing did that."
We stop at Grocery Outlet for supplies, and head home. I set up the leveling blocks FOUR times, they keep slipping. Clear out the bathtub, crack open a bale of hay and get the birds settled in.
Phone Rings a couple times, I talk to people, talk to the landlords, show them the pullets (they'd BETTER be pullets), and check e-mail. I make Mike & I a sandwich, feed the goats, and TRY to get a half hour nap. Baby chickens will tell you when they are not happy, in a simple, pleading way. Not like a baby, like the familiar tone of a car alarm, makes you smile a little because someone else has to deal with it...then you realize the car alarm is yours. I get up to see both of them have escaped the tub and are wandering around on the bathroom floor. I put them back in the tub and show them again where their food and water is.
This happens at least three times during the day.
Then I clean out the chicken pen. This involves a lot of moving nesting boxes, odor, hay, and a pitchfork. I water the chickens.
Mike takes off to see a friend after another hour of sleep than I got. *envy*.
Then the landlord asks for my help in the garden, which I gladly give. 300 square feet of land was put to use. While the landlords are discussing what goes where, my BFF calls. I tell her about my day, and the 3' deep "garden rows" the landlord dug with a BACKHOE, and we laugh. I get to planting, We plant a huge mess of starts, mostly squash. I have a bit of dinner kindly offered me by the landlord and FINALLY go in and check on the new birds.
WORK! My computer is freezing up and won't connect. While waiting for it to do something I eviscerate a cardboard 6-pack box of Hornsby's, put some toilet paper in there and set it down with the chicks behind my laptop so they can be all warm by the fan. I expect them to go to sleep.
Two hours later, chasing one around and putting her back in the tub, then back again, they pass out, heads draped over each other. Awww. I finally get a smattering of work done.