My girls have been teasing me that my motherly instincts have gone awry. That is, how important are the little chickies compared to them? But I think the girls love the chicks, too. The girls are young adults; the chicks are helpless babes.
The girls have been keeping an eye on me while I work on the new chicken quarters. Partly, their father asked them to, which is hardly fair. Partly, they want to know if I’m ever going to fix dinner again! One of them recently mentioned that the only ingredients of abundance in the house are eggs and chocolate. Chocolate omelettes, anyone?
It’s just that I don’t have the experience or strength to do this any faster and it needs to be done now. I am learning new skills as fast as I can, while trying not to resort to banging my head on the wall. Left alone with all the tools and limited spatial reasoning in the front yard could attract the wrong kind of attention.
I have made some progress, as I have chronicled in this post for D&B about building my new PVC pipe chicken pen. If I can do it, anyone can. Parts 2 and 3 are unfolding daily and will be written as therapy in the near future.