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Month: February 2019

Adjusting

4
February 23, 2019

Spring is close upon us. or at least so the calendar would say. Our remaining hens have resumed laying, so we’re at about two eggs per day, which is sufficient for us, and probably also for Dr. Evil’s folks across the road. But we are also approaching “Chick Days” at our local Tractor Supply, so we”ll see what happens with that. The girls seem to have forgotten the murder skunks, but are still unwilling to sleep in the abbreviated coop, preferring to roost outdoors in the run.

On to the horses. Last week, I was working in the NEW!! garage, and after a while noticed Scout (our asshole horse) standing in the middle of our “lawn,” grubbing on the grass. He’d marched right over the fence to dine on the fine fescue beyond the wire. With great effort, Dr. Evil was finally able to return (asshole) Scout to his proper pasture, but it remains my task to electrify the pastures to prevent future jailbreaks.

Uncategorized Farm, Farming

Return of the Skunk

2
February 11, 2019

Quick update: We had snow last night, which gave proof of the return of the scurrilous skunk. The run and coop were surrounded by incriminating skunk prints in the snow, especially in the area where I suspected entry had been gained before. But we awoke to three healthy hens, so all’s well that (so far ) end’s well. The trusty Ruger 10/22 remains ready for future bad acts, of course.

Uncategorized Chickens, Farm, Farming, Skunks

Dollar Wars Begun They Have

4
February 8, 2019

You know how people joke about there being a Starbucks on every corner? Well, our only Starbucks is co-located with the nearest grocery store some 16 miles away. So what does one do when the milk suddenly runs out mid-week? You go to the Marathon gas station in downtown (heh) Albany (pop. 828), which serves as gas station, provisioner, cafe, child custody handover spot, bus stop, and game check station. For anything else, say frozen entrees, light bulbs, seasonal clothing, housewares, and so forth, you’d need to cross the highway and fill your cart at the Family Dollar.

But there’s a new kid in town. We’ve been watching the construction of a commercial building not a quarter mile away from the the trusty Family Dollar, and believed it to be a compounding pharmacy that we’d heard something about on the radio over the summer. Then about a week ago, construction wrapped up and it was revealed to be no kinda pharmacy whatsoever, brother. It is a Dollar General store! Here’s a map to assist in demonstrating just how bold their choice of location is:

In addition to being right up in Family Dollar’s bidness, the Dollar General is located immediately across the highway from Lake Snowden, a popular recreation area (and home to the Ohio Pawpaw Festival). Who’s going to trudge all the way to Family Dollar for their bait, corn chip and amusing trucker cap needs when Dollar General beckons from so much nearer?

This is going to be—as the kids say—lit. I’ll keep you posted.

Uncategorized

Then There Were Three

0
February 7, 2019

I think a while back I mentioned that one evening I went to put the hens away and found several skunks in the coop. They disappeared after that encounter, or at least they weren’t around when I was tending to the girls. Last week, they were back again at chicken bedtime, and I ended up leaving the coop open. The next morning I found that they’d eaten all the chicken feed. So when I put them girls to bed on Sunday night, I took the feeder out of the coop and wished the five hens goodnight, assuring them I’d feed them bright and early the next morning.

On Monday morning, I went to let the chickens out into their run and found three live hens and two dead ones, and a distinct skunk aroma lingering in the air. Murdered by smelly skunks. What an indignity. Needless to say, Monday was a pretty shitty day. I’ve since fortified the old, decrepit coop as well as I could, and there don’t appear to have been any further incursions. But each morning, I experience a terrible knot in my stomach until I see all three remaining hens out and about, scratching and clucking.

Anyway, sorry to share the sad news, but there it is. RIP Eleven, and nameless black hen. You were good girls and we appreciated your brief lives.

Uncategorized Chickens, Death, Farm, Farming, Skunks

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