Blueberry Hill Farm

Two events the past few days will go down in the "farm journal".  The first was "the driving of the hens from the barn."  There have been a group of "rogue" hens that decided several months ago they were going to roost in the barn, thank you very much.  It started with a few of the older hens and the number grew steadily when some of the younger girls saw it and thought it was cool.  So these hens were roosting on top of the storage cabinet, on stall panels, on wiring conduit and some on the very top of the "cage" into which we store hay and feed.  Doing as hens do, which has been previously discussed as to why you need to wear old shoes when you come out to the farm, they have done it all over the barn.  In short, the barn has been trashed by these "ne'er do well" hens.  While patience is still a virtue, I must confess that I ran completely out of it last Thursday when I was setting up brooder tanks in the barn in anticipation of the new broiler chicks that were coming on Friday.  Realizing that if those hens were still in the barn when the chicks were there, they would eat the chick feed and wreak general havoc, so I began the process of driving them out.  The more I drove, the more hysterical they became and the madder I got.  In the process I was reminded of the time when Jesus ran the moneychangers out of the temple and I swelled with righteous indignation.  Truthfully, I must confess my indignation was NOT righteous and became more unrighteous the more laps we went around the barn.  It was, unfortunately, one of those times I was angry and sinned!  At last, I finally got them all out of the barn and closed all the doors. 

Those hens became a pitiful, whimpering group, huddled outside the barn door at night, in the rain, shivering in the cold.  Was I moved with compassion?  NO.  There are four chicken coops into which they can go to get in out of the harsh, cruel world.  If they want to spend a miserable night in the rain or become dinner for an owl, so be it.

Sunday night when I came home from church, as I was on my way down to the barn to check on the chicks, I saw, to my horror, one of the top barn doors had blown open.  Were the hens?   Yep, they were.  Every last one of those blame hens was perched back on their favorite perches.  I even heard a few "na na nuh boom booms" when I entered the barn.  I was madder than a broody hen but as it was dark I knew there was nothing to be done until morning when "the driving of the hens from the barn" happened all over again.  The barn doors have been secured and a hurricane won't blow them open this time!  Farmgirl will have the last word.

Then, late yesterday afternoon, I was on the phone with my sister when I saw alpacas running around in the back yard.  MO was chasing a screaming Sal.  As a side note -- MO is a crazy male who's entire existence is consumed by getting to and killing Sal and that's what he was trying to do.  Sal was screaming, MO was chasing and snorting, the girls were running, and they were all disregarding my blueberry bushes.  SOME IDIOT had left a gate open from the back pasture into the yard.  This was the same idiot that had left the trailer door open that I cracked my head open on!  Do we realize that the entire running of this farm depends on this IDIOT??  Scary, isn't it!!  Do I need to try and describe the pitiful sight of this short, fat farmgirl chasing a herd of alpacas, who, when not supposed to be where they are, can run like a pack of gazelles???  The thought of getting my shotgun and using it was a thought that more than crossed my mind.  It was not a funny situation and I don't want anyone laughing about it!  After a very long time and a couple of destroyed blueberry bushes, I finally got the unruly mob separated and back where they were supposed to be. 

It's only Tuesday??  This has been a long week so far!  I don't even want to think about all the other things that can go wrong for fear they WILL!