I didn't sleep well. I am tired. I spent 5 hours last night teaching people how to make jam, and learned this morning that none of it set. I've been making jam since I was a kid, and this is the first time it didn't work. I told everyone I would redo all of it. I went out to check on the chickens (after waiting for the yard sale people to leave the yard). My "non-broody" breed of chicken is broody for the millionth time. I leaned in to poke at her, and another chicken freaked out, jumped on my head, and flew out the door. I live in the city. Chickens are not free-range. Right at this time, my landlord's friend showed up, so he couldn't help herd the chicken back to the coop. Small child started thrashing around, driving the chicken further away. Nice. I came in and tried to sleep. No. Heard chicken in the woods next to the house. Fell several times looking for the blasted thing. Finally saw it in my neighbor's yard - neighbor who is grouchy and curmudgeonly and is pissed we even have chickens. Nice. Meanwhile, my landlord is now in the woods trying to help, while I am falling down in the hidden woodchuck holes and tripping through downed tree limbs. He thinks this is hysterical. The whole time, his 5 year old son is screaming and crying I LOST MY DAD! I LOST MY DAD! SOMEBODY HELP! I LOST MY DAD. The neighbors are crabby, the chicken cannot be found, I am falling down in pricker-bushes, the landlord is laughing, and the child is screaming.
And this is the last night Matt and I were home together, making dinner, right about now. Two years ago right now. This is year two weekend, and I have not enough sleep, an unclear housing future, runaway chickens, failed jam, irritated neighbors, and a small child screaming. And I just burned the crap out of dinner.
FFS.
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ouch. what a rotten day.
ReplyDeleteAye-yay-yay! The old chicken-leaping-on-the-head escape. Seen that one more than a few times over the years.
ReplyDeleteWould an escapedbchicken story be appropriate right now? I have a pretty good one.
Years ago, Don and I used to go to bird auctions to buy rare breeds of checkens. I was usually the one who couldn't resist bidding on this or that. However, on this one occasion, Don spotted a very handsome God Spangled Hamburg rooster and decided to bid on it. Bidding starts and he makes the opening bid. Non one else bids against him, which seemed rather strange. He gets the rooster and triumphantly carries the cardboard cage box out to our truck. I take a look inside the box and say, "Did you know this rooster is missing an eye?". Don Gives me an incredulous look and quiickly looks inside the box. Dammit! It DOES have a missing eye. We take the rooster home along with a few other birds. The next mornng, as we open the stall door, the rooster makes a break for it. Hamburgs are long legged and lightning fast runners. This one puts his head down and his wings out to the sides and makes like a roadrunner kas he races across the lawn, out the laneway, across the highway, and into the nursery sod field across from our place. We chase him around for awhile, but soon he can outrun us without even tryingm so we give uo and go indoors. Alll afternoon, we watch as he parades back and forth across the field within easy sight of the house. This guy really knows how to goose step. He flings each foot way out ahead and holds his head so high that it is like he is looking at the sun. He seems pretty arrogant. Each waltzacross the field takes him a couple of minutes as he struts so slowly and arrogantly. I say to Don that I think I can catch him if I sneak across the road and wait for him to finish a crossing and turn in the direction where he can't see me because if the missing eye. So, that is what I do. I sneak acroos the road and wait by the fence until he turns his blind eye toward me, then quick over the fence and across the field, then a running dive onto my stimach as I grab him by the kegs with bith hands. Shocked squawks as he leaps and kicks trying to get away. But I am victorious and carry him home under one arm. Don decides to call the rooster One-Eyed Jack. We got a lot of mileage as far as laughs about his "good deal" at the bird auction.
Can you see where your hen is in the woods. If so, I would just wait until dusk and then sneak up on her. She'll probably find herself a roost on a tree branch - hopefully low enough that you can grab her as she settles down for the night. I once had a hakf-dozen Houdini turkeys that like to run away and hide in sime pine trees. Around sunset, I would have to go over and grab them one by one off their perches and drag them back to the coop for the night.
Sorry this happened on this of all nights. Seems that is how things work so often. Is it meant to be a distraction, or make us so tired that we end up not caring. Must be some reason for it. Take care.
the hillside here is steep, covered in bittersweet, multiflora, and blackberry, with lots of deep brush piles - can't see a thing, can't even really get in there. I think I'm becoming callous these days; she'll either make it back or she won't, nothing I can really do about it. They're anconas - known to be flighty and nearly wild. After over three years, they only recently don't freak out when I come in to feed them. Except for today, of course.
ReplyDeletei know nothing about chickens except how to hypnotize them. long story. you are in my thoughts tonight. i do wish you peace. and a found chicken.
ReplyDeleteDefinitely don't risk thrashing around in that kind of vegetation looking for a half-wild chicken. Not worth getting scratched up or risking a twisted ankle or worse. Thinking of you. Take care.
ReplyDeleteSome days are golden, some just suck syphilitic donkey b@lls. (Sorry - a friend of mine says this all the time and it's become a staple here for describing a bad day).
ReplyDeleteI live in the city and my hens free-range, but they have the good grace to put themselves away at dusk. ... well that, and a goodly serving of mash in their coop and they put themselves away. Except the littlest hen who sometimes likes to sleep in a nearby tree, but she is predictable in her choice of roost and I can usually sneak up on her while she is snoring (so funny to hear a hen snoring). Hope your errant bird comes back when she's hungry!
"Except for today of course." Good lord.
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