Sunday, September 04, 2016
An Afternoon at Our House
Last night, my husband called home from work and asked if I wanted chickens. We've been talking about getting a new flock since the last of ours got eaten by predators when he was laid up after the accident. I really don't have a strong opinion on having chickens or not having chickens. I like the eggs and Quinn is excited about taking care of them.
Someone at work had laying hens that she needed to find a home for, so he was going to talk to her and maybe pick them up on Friday.
That would work.
He needed me find the big wire crate to transport them in while he patched up some holes in the coop and to round up the waterers and see if they still had working seals.
I could do that.
I was in the coop talking to Quinn about taking care of the chickens (he's seeing this as a good step on his path to animal rehabilitation) and Heath came flying around the side of the barn. The hose was near that yellow jacket nest that Bill supposedly killed a few weeks ago and when Heath moved the hose, they came after him. He ran into the house and took his shirt off in the kitchen...which left me with a kitchen full of pissed off bugs.
He's got a dozen stings. I've got two from just walking through the kitchen.
And things are back to normal at my house.
The yellow jackets are out of the kitchen, the chickens are in the coop, and I'm starting to thin that this is what I get when I wish for a normal day at home.