I thought about it a little more after going to bed last night, and I guess the chicken house improvement project didn't take four hours yesterday--it was more like three. That's ok because I spent another 90 minutes on it this morning. I realized that I'd put the nests up too high and basically had to undo everything I'd done and do it again... smarter and better, this time. (There was only a little blood when I got frustrated trying to rip a nail out.) So, live and learn.
I'm hungry. We have lots of leftovers, including delicious pork, black beans, and rice from the bbq Sunday. Or I could make myself a fried-egg sandwich with sharp cheddar and mustard on Columbia bread. But the leftover chicken stew is still in the fridge. I said it wouldn't go uneaten. No one would know if it did. Except me.
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Heidi, I love the blog. Keep it up! Surprising how much of these incidents we actually talked about the other day, but I'm thrilled to be able to read the nitty gritty details -- like, "I know my Dad doesn't want to kill me."
ReplyDeleteI hope Ty calms down about the chickens. I haven't let my chickens out because I'm worried George will leap upon them, or they will escape the confines of the yard and be eaten by the neighbor's dogs. It was nice to see yours running around in peaceful happiness the first time I was there. I hope they can do that again and that Ty just yawns when they do.