Chicken Update

Here's the basics... we're going on a week and a half with poultry in the dining room. I moved them to a larger bin, which didn't have high enough sides and Edna kept jumping up onto the sides. So I got an even larger bin, with higher sides... and Edna is now jumping up onto the side to roost.

There are a few dilemmas with the jumping up on the side: 1) It drives the dogs absolutely insane. Maggie spent ALL DAY Sunday whining and howling about Edna and the jumping and perching. By the end of a long day of that, I begin questioning my own sanity.  2) I'm worried Edna will forget to hop back into the bin and get stuck on the floor of the crate, between the bin and the sides, making the dogs even more insane and cutting herself off from food/water/company of other chickens for a day while I'm at work. 3) When my sister in law saw the jumping to the side of the bin, she realized it wouldn't work to have them at their house (perfectly understandable). So the chickens will remain in the Homestead dining room until they are ready to move outside.

The chicks have at least doubled in size. They were probably a week old when we got them from TSC on Holy Saturday. So they are probably 2.5 weeks old (ish). As is always the case, chicks in the house are cute for a bit, and then begin smelling like poultry and kicking up a lot of dust, convincing you that poultry belongs in a coop and not in the dining room. I'm almost there. Of course, it is cold outside and they aren't big enough... but I am definitely going to do some coop repairs this weekend and maybe try to move them out there with their heat lamp.  

Other dilemmas: Chicks are friendlier chickens when handled a lot while they are tiny. It is too exciting (complicated, dangerous, overwhelming) to do a lot of chicken handling because of the dogs. So I talk to them "Hello chickies" and they all peep back. And they are growing very accustomed to the sound of whining, growling, barking. I'm not sure this will make them smarter in the long run, but it is the reality of life at the Homestead.

Also, it is going to be tough to decide which chicks to pass along to my mom. Edna is the trouble maker in the bunch and I'm thinking we could let her go to the Cous farm where she can jump on things and roost in trees to her little chicken heart's content. Although she does liven things up a bit around here. I think she enjoys jumping up there just to freak the dogs out.  And admittedly, I decided to take a picture from the dog’s point of view… and it is a little freaky…

I like Frances and Marigold the best- they are Isa Browns and the cute yellow chicks.  We're keeping those two. And one or two of the black ones (there are two kinds of black ones --can't remember what type-- but all four look the same).

Stay tuned for a tour of the coop in it's current state... just so you can compare it to the coop once I make the repairs... :)

The Adventure Begins

Operation Chicken at the Nichols Homestead got it’s official kick off on Holy Saturday when all three of us who live in the house hopped in the CRV and headed for Tractor Supply. My plan was to get 3 or 4 chicks. But TSC had a 6-chick minimum. So we left with 6 and will donate the extra survivors to my parents chicken supply (to which I owe a few replacements anyway).  Or if you want a couple chickens, call me. I will have a couple to donate.

 

Anyway, we went to TSC and left with food, pine shavings, chicks, and a lamp. I set them up initially in the recycle bin, because it was handy and available. Brought the second dog crate up from the basement and secured the chicks behind bars. Jenny is working on names for them. The dogs are going nuts.

I realize it really isn’t fair, having these smelly, tasty morsels so close and so tempting but out of reach. Not fair at all.

Alas, the chicks will go live at my brother’s house to be loved and handled often by his children before coming back to reside full time in the Homestead Chicken Shack, which needs a few repairs and a thorough check to be sure it is quite dog proof.

In the meantime, we’ve got poultry in the dining room folks. And the adventure continues…

Real Life Solutions: Epic Fail

Just last week I was just sharing (#smeb) about my Real Life Solution for recycling. And then my roommate came home this past week one evening to find this:

That’s right. That is Suzie, head stuck in an oatmeal container that she fished out of that very recycling solution I was bragging about.

I should explain that Suzie likes to fish out and chew flat milk jugs and plastic juice bottles (a habit I take full responsibility for), so she regularly fishes through the recycling container to see what’s good. Apparently this day she was trying to lick those last crumbs of oat out of this container and got stuck. Really stuck. 

Leslie said she was racing around crashing into walls, furniture, everything. Absolutely nuts. After laughing and taking pictures, Leslie rescued her from the predicament. 

A couple hours later I went to the basement to do laundry. What a mess!! The vacuum was knocked over. The borrowed carpet cleaner, knocked over. The laundry basket, knocked over and clean laundry strewn acros the floor. Ironing board toppled and laying on it’s side. My first thought, of course, was that I’d just been watching a crime show where someone’s house looked similar… and then I realized the basement gate had been left open that day and Suze had been tearing around the house desperate to get out of that oatmeal contained, and probably even more terrified as she ran through knocking stuff on to herself.  Oh Suzie. 

There you have it. The irony of Real Life Solutions at the Homestead.

To keep me humble

I browse a lot of home improvement and home decoration blogs. I enjoy the ideas and the gorgeous work people do in their homes. While I aspire to have one of those model, photograph-able homes at any moment… sigh… I’m not even close. The last year of my life has been a very intense one where I can barely keep up on life, much less get ahead (I’m pretty sure I just get more behind).  To keep me honest and humble, here’s an area we need to find a workable real life solution for:

The entry way.

Yes, that’s a dozen pairs of shoes strewn everywhere. That’s a big bag of flour I haven’t put away. And my gardening bag full of garden tools that I used for weeding last weekend. On the hanging shelf, you can see candles from our last power outage, keys, and the dog’s bike leashes hanging there ready for the next ride. And look! A new rug! Isn’t that cute?  Yeah, new rug aside, we need a better solution for the shoes. I keep thinking we should each keep a pair or two of shoes there by the door and everyone else should just keep the rest in their bedrooms. But I know I am the worst offender! I have my tennis shoes, my work shoes, my slippers, my yard shoes, my dress shoes, and a pair of winter boots in that stack. Ugh.

So I’m dreaming of a mudroom:

And pretty entry ways…

And pondering solutions….
…. while still tripping over shoes. 

See? Real life at the Homestead. And still looking for Real Life Solutions. #umeb

RLS: Dog Toys

Here’s my next Real Life Solution. And this one is for containing dog toys. For years I’ve said I’m going to teach my dogs the command “pick up your toys” but somehow that hasn’t happened yet. In the meantime, we are a home with dog toys. And when Suzie is bored, she takes all the toys out… and I can’t even be annoyed about the toys being out because it usually means she is occupying herself and not getting into something worse. 

When I redecorated the living room a year and a half ago, I got this great ikea expedit bookshelf. It is fabulous and perfectly meets my living room shelving needs. It houses cookbooks, regular books, pictures, plants, candles, kids books, toy bins for the munchkins, and last but not least, a dog toy bin. 

It works great. Rather than having a separate basket like I used to that traveled around the living room whenever the dogs used it, this one remains neatly in the bookshelf and with the half height bin, the dogs can reach in and get their toys whenever they like. I should note this solution occasionally causes problems when toddlers visit and assume those nicely accessible and colorful toys are for them to chew on… ewww. Yeah, in those cases, best to move the dog toys out of reach and show the kids the bin of blocks. 

And now if only I could actually teach the dogs to pick up their own toys… 

One Dog, Two Dogs, Old Dog New Dog

No, I did not get a new dog. But here’s a perfect example of how things are around here between the old dog and the middle-aged dog (the one just outgrowing her puppyhood at age 7).  After a two mile bike ride, the Old Dog heads straight for the castle, finds herself a spot in the cool dirt in the shade and doesn’t move again until dinner is served. And then crashes in her bed for the remainder of the evening.

The other dog tears into the yard after the ride and immediately takes a dunk in the pool, drinking and swimming in a circle.

And then laps the yard. And laps it again. And barks at an oncoming dog, lapping the yard again.

And plays with her ball. Chasing it all over the yard.

 

And goes back in the pool for more drinking and swimming.

And finally she begs to be let into the house so she can rub her soggy self all over me in great excitement and affection.

There is no moral to the story. Maggie loves her bike rides but can barely last two miles. Suzie, on the other hand, does best when we go for a second loop on the bike after dropping the old dog at the house. Although the anguished howls of the old dog being left behind are really pathetic- even when she can barely walk!

There you have it, one dog, two dogs, old dog, new dog…