Yesterday afternoon was overcast and rainy and I spent most of it in a chair with a book. Tried to log on once and couldn’t get a connection, and wouldn’t have had anything much constructive to do with it if I could. This morning dawned pretty much more of the same.
As usual when the weather isn’t meeting his expectation, Ghost is disgusted with my mismanagement. Think I heard Landlady drive past last night, so he might disappear on me this morning anyway.
Yesterday, with a great deal of trepidation, I let Selma the Last of the Bald Ladies out of the time-out coop. After the chickens bedded down I pulled it right out of the Fortress because I’m tired of working around it. It needs a good cleaning and some minor repair before it goes back to Landlady’s.
Regular readers may recall that Selma is the direct reason I have four young Rhode Island Reds instead of five, so I’m not prepared to put up with any nonsense from her. One fight – just one – and she goes to the Garden Spot. She’s probably one more molt away from the stewpot anyway: She was always the least of the Bald Ladies when it came to egg laying. But she has spent the past couple of months just one layer of hardware cloth away from the newchicks, so they’re quite familiar with each other. There’s been a bit of minor squabbling, but no explosions of mindless violence – yet.
We shall see.
This morning I need to take the Jeep trailer to shit-shoveling and haul off the week’s bounty. Seems to have rained pretty much all night long, so that should be a real joy and thrill. Uncle Joel’s in a grumpy mood and needs his coffee.
Turning off the ‘pooter now. Itsy-bitsy solar power systems need more sun than this.
Joel I have to thank you for your incite about chickens. Being a city boy who has made to jump to the country 14 years ago to get away from the ant hill, I was actually thinking of raising a few hens for the eggs. After all how hard could it be? Well after reading about your exploits I took a serious second look and did some sober research. The result is that I will carry on buying my fresh eggs from a nearby farmer.
Good luck, I’m pulling for you.
Every time you mention rain, I think of how your one-surface roof would be just perfect for collecting coffee water. If you’re resourceful enough to build a septic tank from nothing, how hard could a cistern be?
You can blame me for the rain. We drove out to Phoenix to move the daughter and we apparently brought a standard Illinois rain storm with us.
Sorry for the inconvenience.