If you're just coming over here from Bossy's place, welcome! I'd tell you I'm working on tidying up the place a bit, but really, I'd be lying if I did. And I'm a horrible liar.
What I am off to do right now is plug away on the chicken coop in progress (see previous post). Unfortunately, we lost one of the golden-laced cochins today. I'm not certain at this point if she was just being pushed away from the food by the others (though we haven't seen any overt aggression) or if there was some infection going on that we need to be concerned about.
Anyway, for those of you who are new, I live in a tiny coastal village at the very southern tip of Maine with my partner David and several animals. This here blog started out to be primarily a knitting blog, but it's veered off into a lot of other areas over the past 3½ years. Feel free to have a look around. You might want to start with this post. Looking over it just now, a couple of the items have changed, but it's still fundamentally sound.
And now, the power tools are calling my name.
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So I saw this commercial tonight, "of all the things made just for men..." and they showed a couple of power tools (it was a men's vitamin commercial)... and as they were showing things I thought "I used one of those today" (drill, some other power tool), and then I heard the line. I was really offended. Power tools are fun. For everyone. (at least everyone who likes them...)
So sorry to hear about the chick. I hope there's not an infection running amok. It would be sad, not to mention how much time you've put into that coop!
I'll think good thoughts.
You know ... after raising chickens for years I can tell you that sometimes they just die. Not from infection or aggression or anything ... they just die. But the healthy ones can sometimes live forever depending on the variety. And you will love them ... don't tell the sheep ... but I like my chickens best.
The power tools call my name, too.
They don't call my husband's name, though. And when they do I am ready with 911 on speed dial.
Yes, Finishing up our chicken coop for my dear, darling spouse(we call it the cube as it was an 8'x8'x8' cube wrapped in blue tarpage all winter) has involved roofing, and fitting in roofing pieces, involving a ladder and a variety of tools. I try to make sure I'm in screaming distance, with the telephone handy....
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