They got in.
Smart little buggers.
They dug a hole under the pen, crawled in and feasted on the chick food. I was so confident in my netting that I had left the feeder in the tractor instead of removing it to the shed for the night. It was my way of flaunting my chicken wire and staple gun skills; my little way to give them the middle farming finger. And all last night while I slept, they were enjoying yet another free meal. In effect, giving me the little raccoon finger.
It didn't work.
They got in.
After the previous weeks of high heat, oppressive humidity, drought, woodchucks, the fox, the slowing of egg production and the raccoon fiasco, I have just about had enough. Add to all that a 3 1/2 year old little boy who skipped the terrible two's and is dishing out a double dose of the terrible three's and myself being 25lbs overweight and winded after walking up the stairs with a laundry basket, I am one unhappy homesteader.
I want central air. I want a yard-wide sprinkler system like on a Las Vegas golf course. I want white eggs from the grocery store that go on sale for 99 cents per dozen. I don;t want to spend my budget money on fencing and chick feed and organic fertilizer. I'm done.
Do you think anyone would read a blog about 99 cent eggs?