My Old Playhouse Gets A New Look

Back when I was a little girl, my grandfather and my dad spent one winter building my sister and I a playhouse. They told us that it was a little house for baby piggies and the little cubbies that they were building were where the little piglets would live, when it was actually the kitchen cupboards they were working on.

I might be dating myself, but it was a LONG TIME ago.

Panelling on the walls was the rage.

So was yellow linoleum.

It was sooooo cute. It had two little windows with cheery flowered curtains. The sweetest set of kitchen cupboards - right down to the two little built in cutting boards. There was a second hand set of cheery floral dishes (that we did not know were second hand) and a yellow legged, wooden farmhouse table. My cousins were so envious!

We LIVED in that thing. It was wired so that we had electricity for our record player. It had a cot that was big enough for the two of us girls to sleep outside when the upstairs of our farm house was too hot. It was a sweet set up. Out back, we had a little graveyard for all the pets and assorted "dead" creatures that we killed buried. Complete with little wooden crosses and funeral services, as needed.

When we out grew the playhouse, it became a storage shed. Then a building for my brother to store his coyote and beaver hides and one day, about 25 years after that, dad delivered it to my farm. Megan was about five years old then. The old playhouse got a new coat of paint and a good disinfection, cheery curtains and a new set of toys.

When it was forgotten and traded (in sorts) for ponies and 4-H calves, it became a shed again. For years now, it has been sitting forlornly behind our wind fence, unloved and struggling.

Until this week.

This week, it was rudely ripped from its resting place, skidded up a hill and up ended. Guts were ripped out, siding removed and its rotting belly exposed to the saw blade. In less than 24 hours, the rot had been replaced with bright new lumber. Strength. Security.

Soon this unloved treasure will be sporting red siding and new windows, a cute veranda and a new asphalt roof. It is coming over to the workshop. It has a new home and a new purpose.

That is, if Mike can pry the shingles off. Andrew may have nailed a case of roofing nails into the old roof, when he was about six years old. A whole case.

Poor Mike!

Halloween night - just one little trick'r'treater at our house- but our favourite one! It was such a crazy week that we did not get to have our family pumpkin carving tradition. Peyton was in school, Megan was sick - so Mike and I carved our pumpkins together (couples quality time).

Mine is the cat, Mike's is the graveyard scene. It was fun to spend the afternoon together and by the time that Peyton got to our house, the roasting pumpkin seeds were in the oven, but not quite ready. She was a little miffed that we had carved our pumpkins, without her.

We had a little chuckle at her costume. Earlier in the day, she had been Laura Ingalls - complete with pinafore dress and bonnet. After school, she changed into a Mutant Ninja Turtle - but she was still sporting the braids (minus the ribbons). What a cute little mutant!

Lay, Ladies, Lay!!

    This is about the twelfth day in a row that I have had a disappointing number of eggs in the nest boxes when I have made my morning and afternoon inspections. I am like a drill sergeant, marching around, trying to whip these slackers into shape, inspecting pens, nest boxes and perches. Making sure the water is clean, with one exact tablespoon of apple cider vinegar added to each. Checking that there are black sunflower seeds available. Providing the perfect number of hours of supplemental light.

Slackers. All of them.

 I keep cheering them on - Lay, ladies, lay!

The ducks on the other hand are laying GIGANTIC eggs.

Regularly.

Daily.

Did I mention GIGANTIC eggs? Easily worth two or three chicken eggs a piece. So, I did a little chicken math. If a duck will lay approximately 200 eggs a year and, lets say, each egg replaces TWO chicken eggs then each duck will lay the equivalent of 400 chicken eggs. No chicken can do that!!

So, ladies, I am putting you on notice!!

No eggs... no more chances. Period.

Move over you slackers. If you make me go to the store to buy eggs, I will buy ducks!

Lay, ladies, you had better lay!

A Week On The Farm

   Monday rolled around again, before I was ready! I have the privilege to escort this sweet, little ballerina to her dance class every Monday night. I am so pleased that Peyton is enjoying dance, this third time around - she has a tendency to have a lot of passion in the beginning and then lose interest. With tap and ballet alternating this year, she seems to be excited to continue. It reminds me of shades of Megan! Skating (1/2 a year), swimming (2 lessons), piano (a lot of kicking, screaming and crying)...

   It was like, "Been there. Done that. Time to quit!"

    All this week, I seemed to be chasing my tail - everything took longer to complete than I had time for! Mike and I were in an all out race to finish retro-fitting the log barn, we had to be ready for my new chickens. (More about them in a minute). The first thing that we had to do was assemble the two side walls and the front to the second chicken pen in the barn.

  I nearly frickin' died! Seriously!!!

  I do not do manual labour. I have no upper body strength.

  Period.

   So, there we were. A weakling and a strong person, who just happens to have only one leg. With HEAVY walls and a cement pad in the middle of the barn, which we had to manoeuvre around. Did I mention that the walls were built to match the height of the ceiling joists? Without an inch to spare. The walls had to be angled in, stood up and then the bottom of the wall had to be knocked into place with a sledge hammer? F*** me!! I just could not lift my side. Mike called me a "turd" about a dozen times. I tried and I tried to be strong! I GAVE IT EVERYTHING I HAD!

   AND THEN SOME!

   It just could not be done. I had nothing left. Mike let me rest for about ten minutes. That did not help! It just could not be done. I was thinking about phoning Greg and asking if he could pop up for a few minutes. Then Mike had a brilliant idea and removed the door from the front wall. With just that little adjustment in weight, we were able to man handle the wall into place. An hour later, a fistful of five inch screws, some shovelling of gravel and a little levelling, the outside perimeter was up! I thought I was going to puke! I was soooooo done! Then we had to build the roosts, attach the ladder, screw a "hop up" bar for the chickens to be able to access the nest boxes, fill all the feeders and waterer. Then it was time to catch the chickens and introduce them to their new winter accommodations! They loved it!

   Then we were back to working on the barn. We needed to install the eight hole nest box - the "mother" of all nest boxes. It was pretty heavy too, but we could at least set it on pails while we worked on it. I lined all the boxes with nesting pads and lovingly placed the wooden "decoy" eggs, while Mike built the "hop up" bar. We hung the big aluminum feeder and filled it. We were ready!

   This is what the fuss was all about! On Saturday morning, I met my "chicken dealer", Jayme, in Fort MacLeod and picked up six Plymouth Barred Rock girls and six Partridge Chanteler ladies. Twelve more chickens for my flock! It felt like a drug deal. Two pick up trucks meet, money is exchanged for goods, one drives away quickly! LOL

   When I got home with my chicken fix, Mike had moved the top soil into position beside this year's garden. He also added a little to top off the older garden. Holy shit, Batman!! When I said I wanted a bigger garden, I had no idea that it was going to end up this big! By counting the spaces between upright poles in the wind fence, I calculate that it is over 40 feet wide and at least half that long. Now, THAT IS A GARDEN! Mike also moved gravel into all the pathways to the barns and chicken house, and built a winter door for the log barn, to keep out the howling wind. While he worked on the farm, I worked on the veggies that were still in the gardens down by the house.

  As of today, there is nothing left in the gardens! I pulled the onions and braided them into ropes and hung them in the greenhouse, along with the sunflower heads (winter boredom busters) for the hens. I cut all the parsley, washed it and hung it up on the drying racks. Lastly, I tackled the beets! They are pulled, topped and clean - thanks to Mike and his Hotsy pressure washer. The gardens are totally empty! The gardening season has come full circle - glittering jars are lining the pantry -summer goodness, saved for cold blustery days.

     The gang is hanging out in the sunshine today - as long as it is not windy, they do not seem to mind the cold. (Unlike me, who could not feel her fingers while braiding onions). At some point in the day, they head back to their coop for food and water, lay a few eggs and then head off, to explore in a different direction. The roosters are very vocal - I love to hear them throughout the day, as I am working outside. I also have to admit, I can hear them inside the house as well!

     That gang is LOUD!

  

    This is my favourite picture of the week - Emma giving Rosie some love and getting a cow selfie! I did not take the picture.

     I am having difficulty holding my arms up! LOL. This "turd" is stiff and tired!!

A Week On The Farm

   This has been a super, crazy week - even for me!! Someone should invent an electric shock collar or wrist band that I could wear, to keep myself from making bad decisions!!

   And I should be wearing it the entire time that my family is in Creston, looking at the beautiful displays of fresh veggies and fruit. If I made a move to pick up a case of pears - BUZZZZZ! Oh, look at the cheap tomatoes, I  could make salsa! - BUZZZZZ! BUZZZZZ! BUZZZZZ!

     Not enough of a shock to set me on my ass, just a hard enough tingle that I might rethink my decision to buy a truck load of extra work for myself! The only bad thing about it might be the fact that my husband would be the one in control of it and that would not be a good thing!

     No more chickens! BUZZZZZ!! BUZZZZZ!

     No, you do not need more scrapbooking supplies! BUZZZZZ! BUZZZZZ!

     I want supper! BUZZZZZ! BUZZZZZ! BUZZZZZZ!

     I can see how this could be used for evil instead of good! So maybe I will have to figure out a way to control my impulse to overextend myself. This week was all about canning and preparing food for the freezer - 50 jars of salsa, 12 quarts of pickled beets, 20 pounds green peppers, 25 pounds of apples made into fruit leather.

     I am very tired. Very tired....

     Oh, and by the way, 12 new laying hens arrive next Saturday! BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!
   

 

Conspiracy!

     Every day since I bought my flock of chickens, I have cautiously looked in the nest boxes, hoping that this was going to be the day that they started paying me back... for all the trips to the feed store, for the LOADS of lumber that I have picked up and Mike has turned into wonderfully cute chicken "condos", for the endless supply of waterers and feed troughs... I am all about them earning their keep! Every single day (since July) I was disappointed. I think that there was some form of chicken conspiracy going on. I could imagine them cackling as I walked up to the chicken house "Here she comes! Here she comes! Now, watch her face when she looks in the angelic, little, straw filled nest box that she so lovingly prepared for us!! Watch, watch! She looks so hopeful!" (insert hysterical chicken laughter)" We got her! We got her again!" (more jubilant chicken laughter). And yet again, there was not a single egg.

Not one.

Ever.

     Worst of all, those pranksters stood in formation and watched me walk away. I swear they were smiling. 

     This week, I think the feathered conspirators finally got tired of the game. As usual, I peeked into the nest box with a fresh burst of hopefulness and anticipation. Imagine my surprise when there was a pale blue egg in the sparkling straw! A blue egg! Then I went to the next chicken condo and there was a pink egg! I have a feeling that somehow they knew that I was researching a recipe for "chicken pot pie" on the Thanksgiving trip to Creston! LOL

     I went "all Grandmother" and found myself a cute little basket, lined it with some old-timey gingham and figured that I had this all worked out. Little bastards. They only gave me two "teaser eggs" to up the anti! There has not been a single egg for the rest of the week!

     Rotten little bastards!

Happy Thanksgiving!