Leaving the past behind...

So I have a million things to catch up on remember (like the whole month of May)? But there are so many fun things happening now, and I don't blog about them because I haven't blogged about the first things, and instead of blogging about those things, I just don't blog. And I hate that. And I feel like no one ever comments, so it makes me think that no one is reading - probably because I never blog... So I'm leaving the past behind. Maybe when things slow down a little I will post about those things, but for now I'm starting with the recent activities and moving on from there. So here's a start: The chicken fiasco.

If I had been better about blogging you would know that in May we bought some chickens. Six grown hens that lay brown eggs. Then because some people in my family are prejudice we had to get two that lay white eggs. Then, because Adia was there and always gets her way, and because they are adorable, we got four chicks. My mom wanted to teach the kids responsibility, and thought this was a good way. Well... that isn't quite the lesson they learned.

First, we learned that we don't really like eggs much. Sure we use them in cooking now and then, and at first we had quite a few scrambled eggs and deviled eggs and the like, but really, we don't love them.

Second, we learned about where eggs come from. Adia started calling them "poop eggs" you know, because "that's how they get out-a there." So when we would give them to people (because we had to, because that is a lot of chickens, which equal a LOT of eggs, and we aren't really egg eaters, so they pile up pretty fast) she would say "how would you like some poop eggs?" Or " Here's some eggs, freshly pooped!" You can imagine how happy people were to get that little gift... But, if nothing else, it did remind EVERYONE in the family to wash their hands after dealing with the chickens.

Third, we learned about life and death. Now, if you are an animal lover, or have a problem with animal cruelty, or have a weak stomach, this is where you should stop reading. Post over.

For those of you still reading, this is where it gets interesting. We live in the country, so there are a lot of things just running wild that like to eat chickens. We have a hen house for them, so they are pretty safe at night, but during the day they just run free around the yard. On several occasions we saw two cats chasing the chickens. We would shoo them away, but they started coming more and more often. Finally one night I forgot to put the chickens in the hen house until after dark. They go in on their own when the sun goes down, so I didn't even look, I just shut the door and went inside. The next morning the white leggers were gone. They must have not gone in and I shut them out. The white feathers all over the yard made us pretty sure they had been eaten, and the cats were top on our list of suspects. A few days later we saw the cats, so we got the gun and shot them. We got them, but when we went inside they were still doing the death flip-flop. That night my poor mom had nightmares that they weren't really shot enough to kill them and they drug themselves onto the front porch and died there. The stench coming from the field where we shot them for a few days after was reasurance that they were in fact, dead where they lay.

Next, it was time to put the chicks out. When you first buy chicks they have to be kept inside under a heat lamp all the time. When they grow up a little they can be let out, but need to be kept away from the grown hens for a while so they don't get pecked to death. So we left them in the run and kept the hens out. At night we put a plywood cover on the run and figured they were fine. But a few days later one chick was gone, and one was injured. A few days later two more chicks were gone. We had killed the cats, so we weren't sure what was getting them., but a few nights later we found out. Around two in the morning my dad woke up to some squawking. Knowing that it was something getting at the chickens he rushed outside with his gun and a flashlight. He pointed the light and saw a HUGE RACCOON! He shot it. I can just picture the poor guy outside chasing around in his underpants in the middle of the night trying to aim his gun and point his flashlight at the same time... Lucky we don't have close neighbors.

The next night we thought we had the problem fixed but the next morning the last chick was gone. My dad refused to be the underpants raider again, since this whole chicken thing was my mom and my idea in the first place. So my super nice brother-in-law brought us a live trap and we made some popcorn balls for bait, and set it and waited. And what do you know, the next morning, this is what we find...

Two little raccoons. They are small, but not babies, and they were MAD. We called my dad and asked him what to do, and he said to let them out and shoot them. We tried, but they kept hissing and growling at us, so neither of us wanted to get close enough to let them out. Finally we decided to just shoot them, and let them out once they were dead. Not nice, but better than getting our leg torn off by a rabid raccoon. I killed the first one right away with a shot to the head, but the second one hid under the first, making it hard to get a good shot. I hit it, but it took a while to die. My mom wanted to get them taken care of before the kids came outside for the morning so she suggested that we carry the cage out into the field and dispose of our catch. We both picked up the cage and were carrying it away when suddenly the not so dead one put up one final fight. It jumped up and growled at my mom, and she dropped her side of the cage and took off! There was no way she was getting that close again, so after a while we rigged up a system using a tree branch and carried them to the trash pit in the field. (Man, I don't know what I'm going to do when I move and my mom isn't there to be my partner in crime anymore. Who is going to do these crazy things with me then?) And what do you think my kids wanted to do as soon as they found out what happened? Yup, go poke the dead raccoons! Yuck. My mom often teases me that my kids and I are too city. She thinks we got ruined when we lived in the city for so long because we like the convenience of street lights, paved roads, gas stations that stay open all night, and stores that have the things you need without having to special order them. After that was all over I mentioned that the country girl in me was still alive, and I was turning my kids into rednecks too. She told my aunt that, but my aunt brought up the point that if we were true rednecks we would be eating the raccoons for dinner. I guess she's got a point there.

That night we set another trap and caught another, slightly bigger raccoon, but this time wasn't so traumatic. Then the next day our friend Hank the Cowdog came by for a visit. He killed one chicken and shook another one up pretty good. She didn't die, but she has a limp, and all of her bum feathers are gone:( She is healing nicely though, so I guess we can't complain. All together we have five of our twelve original chickens. My mom is sad because she just wanted to teach my kids responsibility and instead she taught them death and carnage. But, that's life too, so I think it's been a good experience anyway.