vituperation

How’s life?

Things are simultaneously slow and hectic around here. The last two weeks have been a frenzy of fixing up the suburbia house to get it on the market (it was officially listed a couple of days ago) — having it painted, recarpeted, and repairing various and sundry things outside. Hopefully we’ll get what we’re asking for it; the market here is still good, and we priced it slightly under the market value.

Originally I was going to repaint the whole house myself, but just doing one room put me in lower back hell so we hired a crew to come in and knock it out in a couple of days. Good news on the back front, though. Two weeks of physical therapy and Cobra stretches have really minimized the pain. Matter of fact, the only time I really ache is when I’ve been sitting at my computer for any length of time, and even then the pain’s not nearly what it was.

I guess I need to re-evaluate my opinion of chiropractors, since my physical therapist (who looks a LOT like Joey Pants from the days when he had hair and no gray) is one.

Things in Smallville are rocketing along. The babies are getting into their goony teenager stage, half covered with feathers and half covered with down. The rooster, Fricassee, continues to be a hoot, running around the kiddie pool and keeping an eye on his bitchez. He loves to watch anyone who comes into the room, cocking his head from side to side and staring up with a gimlet eye. Best of all, though he squawks a little when you pick him up, he’s not too freaked out by it. We hope he stays like this, because an aggressive rooster (sorry, PETA) will quickly become dinner.

I started their coop last weekend (pics below), planted a veritable orchard near the garden plot (peaches, apples, plums), and got the garden re-tilled and fertilized for tomorrow’s planting. There’s been plenty of work to do out there, but all in all it’s fun stuff. Last weekend, I paid someone to come manicure the suburbia yard while I stayed in Smallville building the coop and running the tractor. Something about that tickles my funny bone, but I can’t quite put my finger on what.

It’s still funny to me.

Anyway, here are some pictures, including some from yesterday, when I whipped up a playpen for the babies and took them outside for a bit to hang out in the grass. The temperatures have been in the upper 80’s here every day, so I figured they’d like the field trip. It seemed they did.

Lumber for a coop. You can see the already-cut skids laying in the
background. Best part about building a coop: I got to buy a table saw.

I was concerned that 2×4s would make for weak joists, but they’re
perfectly stable, especially when the floor was put on.

The base, completed.

All your base are belong to us.

The base, positioned in its first spot in the yard. After some thought,
I rotated it to face north and moved it closer to where the old coop was.

Just pretend I didn’t cut one of the studs too long in that one on the left,
and that it looks as perfect as the one on the right.

I’m hoping to finish the coop this weekend, but today is grass-cutting day, tomorrow is planting day, and it’s supposed to rain on Sunday. We’ll see.

Miss Mama (one of the not-our-cats cats) was a little TOO interested
in the chicks. She rushed the wire several times, as opposed to the scaredy-cat peek
our indoor kitties do. Such is the difference between indoor and outdoor cats, I reckon.
I pity Miss Mama if she gets into the chicken yard once Fricassee is a little bigger.

The Ameraucanas are going to be right purty. They’re the multicolored ones,
Frick to the right and Flappy McGee to the left.

The Buffs are buffing right up, too. They should be sandy brown when done.
You can also see the salt-and-pepper coming in on one of the Barred Rocks to the left.

Frick checks out something that might be a threat to his wimmenfolk.
I love the little feathers coming in on either side of his face.

There were all kinds of ants and bugs and grass for the babies.

Checking out Miss Mama…

…who’s checking right back

Robyn isn’t quite as fascinated with the chicks as I am.

Frick, my gorgeous cock.

A Barred Rock, eyeballing someone or something.

You can really see the feathers starting to come in.