I'm watching my chickens grow up. I remember those New Yorkers, dazzled and thrilled by the progress of falcons, nesting on an apartment building near Central Park. They'd ooh and ahh at every step in both the parents' and the chicks' lives. I'm feeling the same way.
I was happy to see the first flight feathers emerge from the down. I laughed when they discovered bugging. I note who's the best scratcher, who is flapping flight muscles the most, who stands IN the water to drink...
I came out the other night and found them, cold and miserable, on top of the bird cage I'd set up for them. They're learning to roost. Instead of going IN the cage, they'd flown on top of it. There they stood, cold and miserable, trying to sleep.
I cut a hole in a cardboard apple box, threaded tree limbs through the vent holes and covered it with a towel. Their "hot rock," an electric, heating rock used for reptiles, sat in the bottom on newspaper. I went out to see them, under the table on which it stood, crammed in the corner of the porch, all trying to roost on the coaxel cable, stapled to the house. So, for two nights now, I've had to gather them up and put them inside the box.
They'll figure it out. I'll probably have to add some branches to climb on the outside of the box, though.
I've put them in the front yard. The cats and dogs prefer the back, so it reduces the potential for chicken killing. The red died last week, of suspicious causes.
They run that front yard like security guards. They cover every inch. And they leak through the neighbor's rabbit fencing and our chain link gates to gossip and explore the sidewalk in front of our houses.
They rather prefer the neighbor's driveway. It's lined with privit hedges and vines. It's great for scratching and bugging, and it's shady and damp.
Our yards were just hot gravel and weeds when we moved in. I've planted a few things already. And there are some things set out for shade in the back. But nothing beats scratching under bushes, if you're a chicken.
Eventually, of course, the back yard will be garden. They'll have plenty of hunting and adventuring places next year. But winter's coming, so I'm not planting there yet.
I have my iris and roses to plant before the roots freeze in pots, but that's not much.
They're already out of their box this morning, hunched up against the cold, chattering and circling on the front porch for food and water. Soon as the sun lights the sky, their circles will expand into the yard, and they'll be off for the day.
They work all day: eating, scratching, bugging, pulling grass blades, chasing insects... They talk to each other constantly. They don't like not being able to see each other and will scream when lost from the other two.
The cats just watch now. The chicks are large enough now to look potentially dangerous, and not worth attacking. They still, barely, fit through chain linking, but that won't be true much longer.
By the time I finish my chicken coop, which ought to be by the first of next week, I'd think, the chicks won't fit through the chicken wire.
I had a slight detour in my construction yesterday. I took my girl to work and stopped at the store. On my way out, I noticed some cabinets, discarded in the ally, across Lomas from the parking lot I was leaving.
They were under bed cabinets, made of pine. The finish was bleached off and they had lots of dirt, leaves, weed seeds, spiders and junk all over them. THey had no drawer pulls or other hardware. THere were 2 of them, six feet long, three drawers each. ONe had a drawer missing.
But the wood wasn't warped and they were solid.
So, I threw them onto my girl's bicycle rack that I'd found in a dumpster near the University. I tied them down and slowly drove them home.
I brushed off the dirt and painted them with pink, latex housepaint. My girl likes pink.
I drilled 1" holes in the hardware screw holes. I threaded satin tassled curtain ties through the holes for drawer pulls.
I cut chip board to fit as a base.
I dragged it all into her room, moved her bedding off the floor, placed the bed frame and made her bed.
She sleeps on her Judo exercise mat, which is an odd 3x8 feet. But I got the sheets, blankets and mattress cover beaten into submission.
Now, she as 5 more drawers to unpack into. Her room's already less cluttered. And her standing lamp, with the gooseneck reading light, works better with an elevated bed.
I think she was quite impressed.
I'm quite impressed with how much my arms hurt from doing all that in a single day.
She'll be leaving for a couple of months this November. I want things ship shape and organized before she leaves.
I also want this house unpacked and decluttered so we can have a house warming party at the end of October.
So, today I'll resume my construction of the chicken/cat/dog coop. It's very nice: tall enough to walk through, water proof, cozy and decorated in cowboys, Indians and Mexican touristy tacky stuff. Cute as a bug.
It's almost seven in the morning now. It's time for me to brew tea, warm coffee, and start breakfast.
I'm the domestic side of our alliance. She's more the geeky breadwinner...for now. Once my studio's operational, I may end up outstripping her in the bacon department. Who knows?
I'll tell you what, though: this is the best partnership I've ever had.
And, the other night, she said it again: "As long as I have a job, you'll never be homeless again."
And I believe her.
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