2014 in review

Well, we survived the holidays, where we ate too much and sat around enjoying days off and being together. I thought it might be time to do a wrap up of 2014, since I haven’t posted to Ye Olde Blogge in a while.

I’ve been busy writing stuff, when I haven’t been sick. Most of 2014 was spent lying around feeling like crap. It was horrible, and my biggest wish for this new year is to not be sick. Between whatever weird virus-thing I picked up last year — oddly enough, it was on January 4th — and the sinus infection in August, I spent the better part of the year under the weather. Bah, humbug!

Anyway, I’m sure you only really want to know about what’s going on in the chicken coop. I’ve heard you muttering about the lack of updates and cute pictures. Yes, I’m talking about you, don’t try to look innocent, it ain’t working. Sadly, there are no recent pictures, but the girls are doing fine, still laying pretty well. We’ve got a light in the coop that comes on just before dawn and twilight, staying on for about a half hour each time, to give them a little more light so they give us a few eggs, usually three a day.

George is still King of the Coop, and tells the world daily with his crowing. He talks to a couple of other roosters in the area, mostly bragging about his girls, I’m sure. He’s a handsome devil, and knows it.

The garden didn’t produce as much as I’d hoped, what with a late spring and very wet conditions throughout the season. Still, it was worth the trouble, and the basic structure is there for the coming planting season. My brother and I will be working to expand the garden, because we plan to grow some portion of the food for the chickens. The more I can grow/raise myself, the cheaper those eggs get.

I’m still writing. I publish most of my stuff lately into the new Kindle Unlimited program, which works really well for the short stories I have up. I’m trying out a new genre and a new pen name, but still working on the other stuff I had going on. I’m also getting to some more pure romance stories, though science fiction and horror are still my faves.

After reading a recent Dean Wesley Smith blog post, I'm going to work towards achieving what he called Pulp Speed One, which is one million words this year. It sounds like a lot -- well, it is, really -- but broken down into a daily word count it's reasonable and I'm sure I can get there, if I keep working. I picked my One Little Word for 2015: "consistent". My word for last year was "persistent", and I strove to persist in reaching my goals. All in all, I did pretty well.

I’m not sure how much I’ll do on this blog, though I’m hoping to post regularly. I have a blog about Gothic romances that I really want to do something with, and the publishing site I set up earlier. That will be getting the majority of my attention, because business.

The family is doing well, both parental units are maintaining their health, my siblings are doing pretty good, all things considered. And my boys are fine. Number One, Second-of-Three and Sk8monkey say Hi! See them behind me, waving and grinning? Yeah. They’re so cute. <3

And there you have it, folks. You’re all up-to-date on my exciting life, with a promise to write again soon, and I swear I will start taking pictures to post. It's no wonder I still have so much scrapbooking stuff, the way I take pictures.

Ta for now!

Gosh darn it, we’ve got a rooster in the coop!

We’ve been hearing crowing the last few mornings, but it sounded like it was coming from down the road (out in the country, sound really travels). I’ve had my suspicions about one particular chicken, but I was hoping I was wrong.

Turns out I wasn’t. Georgia, AKA Miss Bossy Britches, is actually George, King of the Coop. I had a bad feeling this was going to happen, when “Georgia” kept getting bigger, but no eggs were forthcoming. Also, “she” was getting quite irritated with the other chickens.

 That's George there, watching over his ladies.

So darn. Yes, I really want to use stronger language, but I’ve put myself on a cursing ban so I’m falling back on childhood euphemisms. At least I’m not spelling the words out, like Number One still does. He’s so cute.

Now I have to decide whether to keep George, or send him to the great chicken stew pot in the sky. It’s not an easy decision, since we want to expand our flock in the future, and being able to make our own chicks would be handy.

There’s also the possibility of having more than one rooster. I’m starting to get that feeling about a couple of the other chickens, especially since George is being highly aggressive with them.

Oh, well. I guess this is something I can put off for another day. I really need to get some writing done, and I’ve got some other projects that need to be bumped up the list so I can mark them off and move on.

That’s my update on the exciting life here in my world, aren’t you glad you stopped by? lol

I know you're dying to hear more about the chickens.

I can see you, sitting in the corner, sucking your thumb and mumbling about how bad I am for not giving you weekly -- nay, daily -- updates. Take a deep breath, and wipe the drool off your face, because it's here! I even have pictures. You're welcome.

So, a couple of weeks back, we decided the birds had to go outside. They were too big for the box we were using for a brooder, and they'd gotten a bit crazy and begun attacking me when I went to change their food and water. My Aussie boy startled them once while I was trying to avoid beaks to grab the water bowl, and mass panic ensued. One smart girl managed to, well, fly the coop, so to speak. What fun trying to catch her before she either made it out the door, or became dog chow. Not. Thought I was going to have a heart attack.

But the coop wasn't anywhere near ready. What to do? What to do?

Enter a plastic dog crate.Ta da! We'd been using it for my granddog, but needs must when the Devil drives. Second of Three and I went out and took an extra fence section to close off what was going to become the chickens' run. A few tweaks and we had it secure enough to keep the birds in, and predators out. Then we took the crate apart (it won't go through the door) and set it up inside the run. A couple of handfuls of pine shavings, and the fun part started:  getting six flighty and rather pissed off teen-aged hens outside. One at a time.

Well, there's good news, and good news.

Mama had a biopsy following a mammogram, and we got the news yesterday that everything is okay, no sign of cancer. We had all been worried, because the test had shown something in the other breast that the doctor didn't like, and of course we all thought the cancer was back. But, all is well, and onward to the next checkup in six months.

Second bit of good news:  my little chicken ladies are still among the living. They are growing like weeds and have almost completely lost their down, so I hope to have them outside in their coop/run by the end of next week. Then I can start scaring them half to death outside, where they have more room to run! I really need to handle them more, so they realize I'm not some predator swooping in for the kill.

Egg production is highly anticipated around here, to say the least. I know we'll all be delirious when we get the first one. I'm already planning how many chicks to get next spring. Might even throw in a few meat birds. Just call me Ms Chicken Farmer. Ha ha

Meanwhile, back at the chicken coop...

Well, it's going in to week two of being a chicken mama, and the little ladies are growing and doing well. They've begun losing their down and replace it with real feathers, a sign they are getting to the stage where they can be outside. Which won't happen until the coop is built, sometime by the end of next week. I've got to get a materials list so I can hit the big box store for supplies.

Next up:  garden preparations. My brother and Second of Three put up the fence yesterday, so now we need the raised beds built, and soil bought. I'll do that this week, along with another seed and plant buying spree. I can't wait to get my hands in a garden again. Oh, fresh salad greens, how I long for you!

Sales of the charity anthology I spoke about are doing well. I'll graciously concede that it's due far more to the famous authors who contributed, and not my fantastic story. But in my heart, I know it's all about me. It isn't? Wait, what do you mean, I had nothing to do with it? Wah! Sob!

Here chick-chick chicken!

I have been a proud chicken mama for more than a day now, and I haven't killed them yet! I'm so proud. The little darlings are actually looking pretty darn good, eating and drinking well and making the cutest little cheep cheep sounds. Sa-weet.

I got three red and three yellow pullets. They are a mix breed type thing. I wanted specific breeds, but since I didn't order from a breeder (what do they call people who raise chickens to sell? Mind is blank.) I had to take what my local Tractor Supply had left. I'm not too disappointed, as I wasn't sure I wanted to spend too much money to start out. Next year I plan to order more layers and some meat chicken breeds.