Attention, Historians...

...the most hated person in history is NOT, in fact, Hitler.

It's me.

At least, going by the chickens' reactions to me lately. They really, really now how to lay on the guilt with a freakin' trowel.

See, chickens are NOT big into any kind of change in their routine or surroundings. They want everything to stay just as it IS, thank you. Even if it's a change for the better, changes are viewed with unhappiness and distrust, and they'll look at YOU--in their minds the occupier of the position of Head Roo and Giver of All Things Good--to fix it, and fix it NOW.

So when we moved, and subjected our flock to various and sundry (and repeated) offenses and indignities of relocation, stuffing them in carriers, making them live in cramped quarters, etc. we found ourselves apologizng over and over again and trying to make it up to them with extra attention, cuddles and treats.

Food goes a long way in chickenland.

But this morning I went out to check on them and got a dose of heavy duty ChickenGlare from at least 6 of the oldsters. The chicks from last year's hatch were blithely out in the run, dashing about in the 25 degree weather with the wind & blowing snow, not really minding the chill. Youngsters are notorious for being kinda brain-dead and naive, and as such are more flexible in their thinking.

The dignified old ladies of the flock were another story. Their expectations are set in concrete. You don't mess with the ladies' dignity and sense of balance. They like to know what to expect in life from one moment to the next, and moving from southern California to northern Nevada in winter, haha, is NOT condusive to friendly human/poultry politics. They'd huddled in silent groups at the back of the coop. This is what I got from them.

The Stare has the power to drop lesser creatures in their tracks. The Frizzles especially contrive to look extra pathetic, as if those curling feathers only serve to allow the cold to get directly to their skin. I'd unwittingly compounded my sin by forgetting to go out there with goodies in hand to make up for the weather. The piteous looks, Lordy--the whining about their poor miserable condition was truly heartrending. The repeated loud and vocal appeals to me to DO something was undending. You'd think I was twisting off their toes.

I got out of there as fast as I could. Besides, it was cold out there!

I sense a large mealworm order in my future.

How To Spend Two Weeks...

...on behalf of a bunch of chickens.

So we're in the new house, but the chickens aren't here yet, and we're feeling bad that they are still living in the barn miles away and it just doesn't feel like home yet without them.

So as soon as we get ourselves settled in enough for our day to day needs, we go hammer and tongs at building the new coop & run. We are fortunate enough to have two sheds in the back yard, one of which will become the new coop--on the left of the picture, the one without the roof on the right:

Only problem is, it's in the wrong place. It needs to be moved over towards the middle of the yard and back about 20 yards. This is soon accomplished by pulling it loose from it's moorings and dragging it with lots of nylon rope, some improvised rollers and the Jeep. We also rent a trencher and dig the trench for the run posts and the buried wire--vital in areas where predators know to dig under the coop wire to get at your birds.

In this pic the coop has been moved, it used to be on the left where the chunk of old plywood is lying on the ground. The framework on the ground is the carport pipe structure that was the old run, moved from the old house.

The trenching shows where the edges of the run will be, it is so we can bury the run hardware cloth underground about 6-12 inches to foil digging predators.

One thing we have here in SPADES is rocks. This area is an old glacier field and when it left, it left all kinds of damned rocks. Dig down two inches and your shovel will hit a rock. Or 12.

The run roof going up. This was quite harrowing to raise, by the way. It swayed and did the hula in such a way as to have you fearing for your life.

But go up it did, yay!

A better look at the trench where the wire will be buried at least 6 inches below ground, bent outwards to foil digging predators.

The run posts were seated in cement, which got a field test with 65 mph winds the very next night. None of it ended up in the next county the next morning, so we must have done good.

The run roof goes on, just in time for a light snow.

The first course of wire goes up on the right side! We use 1/4 inch welded-wire, also known as hardware cloth--NEVER chicken wire!

More wire on the other side, and the doorway is framed in...

Because we now live in an area that sees much colder temps and higher winds than where we used to live, we're adding insulation to the walls & ceiling of the new coop. It will also have a heat lamp or a barn heater for REALLY cold nights.

The courses of wire are overlapped by about 4-6 inches and secured with UV resistant zip ties, which will seal out rodents that may try to slip between the wire edges. Chickens and their food attracts such things.

Unfortunately for me, while I was cranking down on a zip tie with a huge pair of channel-lock pliers, it broke and I smacked myself in the face with the damned pliers. Cut the Hell out of my upper lip and judging by the way my upper arch is flexing, I'm fairly sure I've got two fractures in my maxilla and may lose my two upper front teeth. Time will tell.

The doorway framing is done and the roof goes on the coop.

The plywood coop roof is overlaid with tar paper, which will in turn be sealed with Henry's and given a final covering of shingles.

Remember all those damned rocks? They go into the trenches as a digging predator deterrant. JUST TRY AND GET AT MY CHICKENS.

It's getting there...the trenches are topped off with dirt.

The door is on!

Time to go inside--this is the coop before it gets insulated.

The insulation goes up...

...and the walls are then sheathed with plywood. Except for finishing touches, the coop and run are finished, yay!

But I still feel like something is missing...hmm...

I know!

Pissy, carsick chickens!
I swear when they saw me coming at them with those carriers again they nearly wept. But at least this time it was a shorter drive. Plus they got a small amount of revenge in me getting my arms all scratched up from hardware cloth edges.

Aaaaanndddd...they're IN!

Temporary roosts in the form of some moving boxes, our garden bench and a ladder.

Also temporary are the nest boxes, repurposed moving boxes with new, smart-ass labels such as 'Fresh Chicken' and 'Fluffy Butt, This End Up'.

 

Pompadour inspects them...

...as do Fran and Pong.

The next day sees the flock cruising their new digs. Sadly they are confined to the coop & run for now as we still have some fence repairs to do on the rest of the 1/2 acre before we can let them roam it.

Weedcat the splash Giant Cochin roo in the middle.

But they're here at last, and waking up to roosters crowing and hens clucking finally makes it feel like home. Sadly neither Phoenix our Head Roo nor Millie our MilleFleur Belgian d'Uccle hen made it, both passing away at Christmastime. But they are here in spirit, as one of the first things we did after buying the house was to bury them in a special corner of the yard.

Today it's snowing, and the chickens are getting to enjoy their first experience with that. After the weather clears in a few days we'll be able to finish the roofing, add real nest boxes, roosts ladders and roosts, and get them settled for good.

Then I can go back to unpacking and painting!

Let's Play, 'What The Hell Did I Pack?!'

Unpacking boxes you packed nearly 5 months previous can be fun! Play along and try to identify What The Hell That Thing Is!

Uhh...baseball bat?

Oh, Gallileo thermometer. Yeah, that woulda been my second guess.

A moment's panic as I tried to recall if we'd ordered pizza the day I packed this box.

Ah. Hello, fun Atomic Era clock!

More digging...

Of course, the important stuff got packed!

Club Flamingo lives!

Moved In, Mostly...

So moving day has come and gone.

I ended up having to stratigically plan my painting and the priority became to paint where the heavy furniture would go FIRST, so we wouldn't have to move that shit again to paint behind it.  So most of the rooms have that lovely 'half done' look to them.

The living room started out like this:

Pretty quickly ALL the rooms filled with boxes. Kitchen/Dining room:

The kitchen is a right horror, and I'm planning to remodel it in a year or so. For now it'll get a coat of paint and new cabinet hardware.

Den:

Kid's room:

Yes, of course my garage is carpeted. Isn't yours?

Back to the living room. When my husband leaned on the wooden fireplace mantle it fell off, as did one of the folding closet doors in the kid's room. Added their repair to our 'To Do' list...

Here you get to admire the vintage metal blinds the house came with, reminiscent of a 1950's-era government Social Security office and all the warmth and charm THAT entails. The den sports them, too.

You know, the living room doesn't look all that ba--

AAGGHHH!!! Dear God in Heaven--! What Hell did all those boxes spawn from?!

Even the birds weren't happy, tucked into a corner of the dining room temporarily.

But by 4AM, I had the living room Great Wall of Boxes tamed. Dawn found the living room wall looking much better.

Next, to set the kitchen to rights, ha ha.