Meet Pooka

 Pooka was well sought after.  We decided that a kitten for Christmas would be the ideal idea.  It had been 6 months since Miss Moppet died and the house construction had reached a stage where we could 'safely' take on a kitten.  Sooo,  the entire week before we headed to Utah we were searching online for a kitten.... BUT... each one we asked about was already gone or spoken for.  Sometimes the listing would only be 2 minutes old and the kitten would already be gone.  Finding a kitten didn't look promising.

Whittaker spent the entire drive to Utah reading any new listing he could find from 3 different sites.  Late that evening we managed to contact one that still had a kitten available and made arrangements to meet at a 7/11.  

Apparently meeting someone at a 7/11 to pick up a new kitten is a family event.  Caleb and Sarah, joined Jim, Whittaker and I to meet Pooka for the first time.  She was so sweet, petite and snuggly.

Fortunately, she was also a VERY good traveler.  We had 24 more hours before we would be home.  We spent the night and she slept between Whittaker and I.  The next day we were in the car essentially all day.  She spent 90% of the time on Whittaker's lap.  A few times we had to put her in her kennel.. hoping she would use our makeshift litter box in the end of the kennel.

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Once home... she has rarely been put down.  There is no shortage of people willing to hold her.  She doesn't appear to mind.  She is such a chill cat... Sooo docile.   (except at 11pm) 

She loves to be in a box by the fire place... and the cookstove and she's taken over the crochet couch that Noella had claimed.  

In fact,  she seems to want to be anywhere Noella is.  The feeling was not mutual though.  Noella made it known that she could be close but no closer.

As soon as Noella's back was turned... Pooka stole all of  Noella's spots.

Unless Emerson intervened.   It was an exhausting task to keep Noella and Pooka from hissing at each other.

Eventually Noella allowed Pooka to join her... 

as long as she stayed behind her and didn't play with her tail.

Noella has plenty of reprieve from Pooka's attempts to make Noella into her kitty equivalent of a BFF since... well... she is rarely put down!

Minor Setbacks

 

At first glance this is just the space behind the fridge.  A few weeks ago this was a delightful sight.  It meant that the fridge was in its new location and the waterline has been hooked up to the fridge so there is now water and ice available from the fridge.

However... this particular view at this moment is not such a delightful sight.

It is only a minor setback... a bump in our road to renovations.

The kitten, in a frisky mood, discovered the coil of hose behind the fridge and it's tendency to wobble when touched.  Irresistible to a kitten... a wobbling hose.  She pounced.  We are not certain if she bit at the hose when it wobbled back at her or if it caught on her claw, but we do know that a tiny hole created a large wet mess.  Had I not been standing on the other side of the fridge at the time and heard an 'odd sound', I wonder how long this tiny prick of spray would have gone unnoticed.  It could have been so very much worse.

I called out... HELP... how do I turn the water off to the fridge.  Faster thinking than I had, Jim just turned the water off to everything in the house... then we mopped up the mess and realized there must be a valve under the sink.

All is well that ends well.  Patrick repaired the hose.  The water has been restored.  The fridge is now pushed back closer to the wall with items blocking a kittens entry.  We will be more aware of this hazard when we need the fridge moved for drywalling and painting and for flooring.  

Covid Update

 Patrick is sleeping. 

[He still has headache, body aches, cough, fatigue but seems to have more energy in short spurts.]

Emerson is playing operation, knocking down the fortress of the pigs and listening to a magic treehouse book.

[No actual symptoms]

Duncan is listening to a book, playing computer games, eating day old pancakes and pining over the lack of cookies in the house.  He is keeping the fires burning and has taken over spelling and other school tasks with the boys via zoom. (Wishing it wasn't a week off school so there would be more to occupy his time!)

[No actual symptoms]

Whittaker is listening to Nancy Drew mysteries, and arts and crafting.(He has created a pen catapult launcher, many Christmas ornaments and some random sketches.)  He looks forward each day to time on the computer and the chance of a chat with Ava.

[Angry rash on his hands, sore throat and a tightness in his chest, but good spirits and plenty of energy to make frequent requests for more tea, for paper, paints, glue, empty toilet paper rolls, a new book, water refills, any snacks?]

Jim is bored, and inventing new covid symptoms like, bruising easily, inability to heal after a burn and the need for frequent urination (may be tied to the constant supply of tea I've been providing).  He is productively working in spurts and suggesting activities like charades from our respective doorways.  He has thrown caution to the wind and decided to eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die. In other words, it's not a no sugar week!  He has lost self-control and eaten an entire container of peanuts in two days.  

[metallic taste in his mouth, had a slight headache, had a tickle in his throat, had a tightness in his chest, sporadic heavy limbs.  All symptoms are in past.. mostly.. very minor and isn't eager to do any exercise.. is winded easily after simple exertion.]

I am creating a symptom chart (None of us can register a temperature at the normal range... we all have unusually below normal temps.  Whittaker winning with 95.3) and I'm justifying ice cream for breakfast since I had lots of leftover heavy cream by adding granola and berries.  I'm paranoid that the mice will have a complete lack of respect for my days of cleaning and rodent proofing efforts.  I'm catching up on years of neglected slothfulness and am not getting dressed until noon... if I get out of my p.j's at all.  

[metallic taste in mouth, fatigue, body aches, slight cough, cold sores, nagging headache, stuffy nose, swollen throat glands and hands that constantly smell of bleach]

Figaro has increased her efforts of laziness and when she isn't lounging on Emerson's bed or meowing annoyingly at the door to be let out for 3 minutes, she has taken up residence on Patrick's side of the bed.  She also sneezed twice last night so I charted it and we'll monitor it closely. 

Noella is baffled by the lack of interaction by the humans and has quarantined herself to the couch by the front door.  She is afraid to make her presence more publicly known due the shame she feels for NOT capturing the elusive kitchen torturing mice!

Take a Gander at that!

 

Part of the renovation required that a few bushes needed to be moved.  While we had the backhoe seemed the best time to move them.  

Bushes and trees are not something I'm willing to waste.  So.  We transplanted them.  

We opted to plant them around the goose pond.

While we were transplanting them, we decided that the geese would like an expanded and deeper pond. 

Instead of the two weeks of digging by shovel that it took Duncan last year, it was twenty  minutes by backhoe.  

Now it is a daily task to keep the bushes alive.  This first year after transplanting is crucial to their survival.

The new and expanded pond was refilled and the boys decided to enjoy it before the geese soiled it.

It may have been a good idea to keep the geese in the corral until the boys were through.  

The boys didn't seem to mind though.

In fact they all seemed to enjoy their water play.

I believe it's because the bushes added a delightful and irresistible ambiance to the pond.

The geese gave their inspection and seal of approval on the pond and left in search of a snack.

The boys lingered in the pond.

Myth Busters

The boys like to watch cat videos.  They saw a few that showed that cats can walk through a room filled with items like dominoes or other small items, evenly placed close together and the cat won't knock any over.  The boys were rather amazed.  So obviously...

They had to build a test out the theory course.  

Figaro just turned around and went the other way so we had to fetch her and force her to do it.  She carefully walked along the edge but did knock down a few.

Noella as you see left a disaster in her wake and was so unimpressed by the noise of the items falling over she simply sat down (on some) part way through the course, baffled why we had left such a mess in this small area of the house.

So, myth: that cats won't knock any down.. BUSTED! 

Just proves, you can't believe everything you read or see on the internet.

Easter Egg Hunting

As Easter approaches, the ladies have outdone themselves.

I refuse to think that they are unappreciative of their lovely nesting boxes.

I refuse to believe that they are purposely being obtuse and uncooperative.  Instead I will believe that they are creating the best ever Easter egg hunt for us. 

The boys job is to collect the eggs each day... However.  sometimes the eggs are out of reach.

This wall is ten feet high.  It doesn't meet the ceiling so there is a 4" ledge... Just the spot to lay an egg apparently!

How about this egg...

Oh... Can't find it?  I can't believe the boys spotted it!

I'll zoom in.

This egg didn't survive retrieval.

I'm bewildered.  Why won't they use their lovely nesting boxes?  Are they not high enough.. Not precarious enough?  Not strange enough?  Do they not realize that they have the Taj Mahal of coops?  They are treated to fabulous table scraps that could be denied them in favour of garden composting.  They are played with daily.  I've been looking forward to warm weather so I can paint their quarters in cheery colours and give it charm and style!  They have more space per chicken than we have per person in our house!  Beautiful mountain views from their courtyard.  Solar lighting.  Indoor pond.  Vaulted ceilings.  Multiple roosting options.  

And yet... the egg hunts continue.

Sarah and Boomer

At Sarah's recent visit we had a photo shoot before Miles was to leave for Texas.  

Afterwards we snapped some candids of Sarah and Boomer.  They're so well colour coordinated. 

Winter Chickens

After owning chickens one might think I would understand what is needed to have chickens once again.  One thing I should know is that building a coop BEFORE hand is preferred.  However, it's just not how we roll!

We have five acres, many outbuildings and lots of miscellaneous supplies laying about...  Whatever we need we can handle it!

Which is sort of true.  

The chick phase was simple enough.  In the spring we had a tub in the house.  Then as they got old enough they took over one end of the greenhouse.  For a time that was delightful.  The boys enjoyed visiting their coop and playing with them.  Eventually they were old enough to be allowed to roam freely... or ' free-range'.  So a ramp was placed outside the greenhouse window to allow them to come and go.  they tended to stay... inside unless coaxed to go out... and outside unless urged caught and taken back.  

They were also quickly outgrowing their coop... (technically, according to chicken guides, they had enough space.. but I prefer the hens to have palatial quarters) PLUS.. winter was approaching.. we needed to provide a MUCH MUCH warmer environment.  

So we began discussions and planning.  I was for converting the old trailer house at the end of the yard for their new coop.  Patrick was adamantly against it.  Even with me referring to it as the chicken house.  We both won.. compromised.   It was better in the end anyway.  I didn't like the trailer where it was and apparently it couldn't be moved...  well in one piece anyway.   

So... Patrick delightedly began dismantling the trailer.  We used the sections of insulated wall with metal exterior to insulate the end of the barn.  We created an interior wall to contain the hens and used the door and a window from the trailer in the new wall.  We also used the cupboards as nesting boxes.  

Now the trailer is only 25% of an eyesore.  Regardless.. the new coop took longer to put together than winter cold would allow.  We had to hurry with the practical necessities and leave the decorating for spring.  

In the rush to complete, we brought the hens in to help..  or hinder if you agree with Patrick's misguided point of view.

How else would we know if they appreciated the door having a high stoop or would prefer the ramp into the smaller door to have steps to keep it from being slick. 

Also would they like one long perch or multiple smaller perches.  

And nesting boxes... These are ultimately going to need to be perfect for optimal egg laying satisfaction.  The boys happily showed the hens how smoothly the doors opened... how spacious the boxes are... how they can double as a perch... 

Even with all our efforts and the boys diligence in daily nesting box lessons.  Eggs seemed to allude us.  Finally an egg was laid.  But then... 

nothing.. for days... then a week.

There are 12 hens.  Once they started laying it should have continued.  

Heaters and lighting were provided.  Extra feed and fresh water daily.  Scraps to augment and encourage.  

Still nothing.... until the boys spent an extra long play session with the ladies.

The result?

A basket full of eggs... many cracked.. many frozen solid. 

NONE in the nesting boxes. 

At one end of their courtyard area is a stack of lumber.  They discovered an overhang of boards and dubbed it the only place to lay eggs.  So until Spring we continue to encourage them to use the beautifully designed nesting boxes so far to no avail.

But we at least know where to look.. and collect 6-10 eggs each day.... 

As the months go by our begrudging attitudes at having to look under the lumber instead of the lovely 'EMPTY' nesting boxes is making us determined to make some renovations come springtime!

Fowl Play

It's a real thing.  They need their daily chicken lovin'.  The boys dutifully attend to them.  In return we are offered anywhere from 6 to 10 eggs each day.  They do find winter to be dragging on but the boys daily visits and the odd winter walk have cheered them.  

They stay warm in the heated and insulated section, but show their appreciation for the more spacious outer courtyard area with excessive wing flapping and clucking ... or honking in the geese.

(The geese accept our apologies at our limitations.  We attempted to provide an indoor pond... but the cold permeates... EVERYTHING.. and, well, it's frozen.  We encourage skating as an alternative)

Productive days

Every so often we have days that go according to our plans.  We stacked wood.  We moved the chickens into their new home even though it was not yet completed.  It had enough of the structure completed that we could introduce the ladies and hope they would find it to their liking.

We even found time to play with the kitties.

We also set out to solve our never ending dilemma of what to do eat when we are off to town for the day.  We find ourselves eating two meals away from home at times twice a week.  Other than having sandwiches or rising early to make a soup or stew that we are not always sure where we can eat it we decided to try to make handheld meals.  So we spent two precious days making them. 

We filled  them with:

Eggs, sausage and peppers

Beef and broccoli

Chicken pot pie

Meat pie (meatloaf)

Pizza

Other than the days to devote to it we have a freezer full of quick meals.  And they are nut free!

To celebrate our successful days and after having nibbled and nibbled all day long we made popcorn over the fire.  It was fun and a great end to our long days.

Battling the Birds

Directions? 

A clandestine message for those who know the code.

The message is becoming more insistent.

I must crack the code.

Is this like x marks the spot?

Is it time sensitive?

or... 

perhaps...

just maybe...

The chickens have been on the trampoline again!

They're becoming more brazen.  The message is clear!  

"We want to take over all your designated chicken free zones!"

Squeak in Peace

A somber Sunday evening graveside.

There was a small fenced off area on the edge of Gopher Hill that has become our personal family (pet) plot.

Humphrietta the Hamster was discovered to have passed in her sleep of natural causes.

(Only a visual autopsy was performed)

The mourners took a moment of silence... to revel in it.. to remember her constant squeaky wheel running through the night.  Her finger nibbling.  Her cage stench.. her gratitude for veggie day.  Her attempts at escape... freedom.

The headstone was ordered and erected.

Then we went inside where it was warm and had lemon meringue pie.

We planned to have pie anyway.

Miles is taking a culinary class and had to whip egg whites to frothy peaks... so.. naturally they needed to be used after that. 

What better use than as comfort food after a funeral service.

The grounds crew arrived the next morning and have been doing a commendable job keeping the small cemetery looking 'pristine'.

Filling in the Details

Daddy worked in Hawaii for a few weeks and brought back a few fresh pineapples.  

While we gobbled away, slurping the dribble off our chins, we filled him in on all that had occurred while he was away this trip.

Friends went to Brazil and brought us back and new hammock as a thanks for taking care of their pets.

A neighbourhood cat has been stalking me.

It's quite disconcerting to be stared at while washing the dishes.

(I know the solution is to just stop doing dishes!)

Emerson became stuck in a bucket.

It took two people to get him out.

He got stuck a few more times before we confiscated the bucket.

Miles spent days and days in one spot finishing up his extra courses that he took this semester.  Fortunately he enjoyed them.  We often would peek in and seeing him grinning away and when we glanced at the screen, none of us saw anything amusing or pleasant... 

Chemistry, Graphic Design and Microsoft Office Specialist.

To each his own. 

Sarah claimed there wasn't enough space in her room for all her shoes.  Rather than pare down her shoe collection, she opted for opening up a wall and creating new shelves.

On a particularly quiet afternoon, I thought Emerson was napping and assumed Whittaker was playing legos with Duncan.

I was wrong.

Duncan was voraciously reading Harry Potter and the little boys... well, they were stripped down in the sandbox.

Having the time of their lives.

Until it began to rain.  Then they were dancing on the deck trying to rinse off the sand.

Emerson discovered that other people have water bottles identical to his.

He was relieved when we returned home and his was still on his hook.

We spent an ENTIRE saturday doing Scouts.  Miles performed his Native American Hoop Dancing.  Duncan earned two merit badges.  The boys and I played every carnival game known to man, and participated in the dance demonstration, and climbed rock walls, and played on bounce houses, and sawed a tree in half, and generally had a good time.

Unfortunately, as we told Daddy all about our activities... 

His red eye flight and jet lag caught up to him.