....
You know you should probably follow your gut feelings. I told the kids I had a feeling that we should take it easy today and we were doing pretty good. Bu (who now insists everyone call him "Bubba" because it's such an hysterically delightful "southern-type" name), fresh on the success of finishing the Evil Trio* pen decided to go ahead and start on the chicken run. Usually, since we're outside, the chickens free-range, staying near to us. But this is obviously not always the perfect setup. We have foxes. Owls. Hawks. Mutant snakes. Roaming neighbor dogs. Weather that melts your face off. And for the times when we can't be outside, it would be nice to have a comfy big run where they can be safe rather than snug in their coop. Bu...sorry, Bubba was just going to pound in a few T-poles to get the whole thing started. Hardly into the first pole, he (somehow, do not ask me because I'm too big of a weenie to even have my hand near the pole, I just let it go and hope I actually make enough contact for it to stick vertically in the ground it before it falls over) smashed his thumb. Hard. Wickedly hard. The nail looks like a broken mirror. If a broken mirror had icky blood and stuff on it. And the bone is broken.
I should have paid attention never to start something this ambitious during the first quarter of the moon...sigh...
Evil Trio: Verdi, Dubs and Kashi, our rescue ducks and goose
I should have paid attention never to start something this ambitious during the first quarter of the moon...sigh...
Evil Trio: Verdi, Dubs and Kashi, our rescue ducks and goose