The Rest of The Story...

This happened over the weekend. Don't worry. There is a happy ending.

Geoff and I were completing some of the staking for the new chicken run.

1. "New?" There isn't an old chicken run. There is a chicken coop. Well, there is a garden bed with a table over it. Actually, first it was a table, then it was a chicken coop, then it was a penthouse rabbit hutch, and now it is a chicken coop. But we have never had a chicken run.

2. "Geoff and I?" Okay. I was eating popcorn, and Geoff was staking out the perimeter of the new chicken run.

Since the chicas are cooped up all day in a garden bed with a table for a roof (see above) I like to let them free range when we are in the yard working, or eating popcorn. They ran straight for the pile of topsoil, dug up from the area where we will build their run. And I believe you understand what I mean by "we" (see above). Actually, if designing, consulting, coordinating, and lending a hand count, then I am a full partner in this venture. Thankyouverymuch. Also, I make really yummy popcorn. And I share.

These are the moments that make a weekend really good... working with my husband, enjoying a tasty snack, watching chickens run, and scratch, and peck, and search, and chase. About the only ones not having a good time were the goats. I was keeping them in their yard so they would not trample Geoff's progress. I do not trample his progress. The chicas do not trample his progress... although, they have been kicking dirt back into the ditch for the water line!


Benjamin does not trample Geoff's progress. Benjamin walks through the job site like a foreman, a critical inspector. He checks the level, looks for any discrepancies. Without his approval, we dare not proceed.

While everyone was enjoying the afternoon, the goats were crying for attention, so I brought them a basketful of Timothy hay. I know better than to leave them alone with smaller containers, containers with handles, knives, explosives, choking hazards, my credit card, but the greedy grabbers took their food, basket and all, so I let them have it.

The goats were happy. Geoff, with the popcorn, was happy. Betty, hoping for popcorn, was happy, too.

Popcorn, with a dash of parsley and nutritional yeast? Yes, please!

All of the chicas enjoyed a small helping.

Even our wild bantam chica, Little Debbie, slowed down long enough to visit the popcorn bowl.

It was about this time that I heard a familiar cry. It was not Ada, who is usually the vocal goat. It was Tasha, and I knew if Tasha had something to say, it meant something was up... like a fluffy bunny was in their yard, or she was into something. Tasha is well known for two things: 1. getting into things 2. getting out of things. But she can never seem to get out of the things she gets into, without a little help.

Oh, dear Tasha.

Thank goodness for good weekends, for chicas, and goats, for tasty treats, for company, for the help of friends, and for happy endings.