Birthday Weekend

It's been a busy week at the QBCPS. Aoibheall and I took Friday off from work and went grocery shopping. Big shopping. Usually, that's a Saturday job but for Aoibheall's birthday the town of Boulder Creek has a big "Art & Wine Festival" which makes driving through town very taxing. So, we went shopping on Friday and got groceries, birthday cake, and many many sodas which were not sweetened with high fructose corn syrup.

Saturday, we sanded and painted the railing around the deck. The old paint was easily seven years old (probably older) and it was peeling like a week-old sunburn. Peaches and I sanded while Aoibheall and the BabyGoddess started painting. By evening, we had put one coat on the whole railing. It's difficult enough to get into the spaces between the vertical pales that Aoibheall wants to get a paint sprayer and I just want to replace the darned thing with a barrier that can be painted with a roller.

We celebrated with sodas, salad, and sleep.

Sunday I went off to the TechShop to take the basic safety unit on the oxyacetylene welding rig. It was a good refresher since the last time I did any gas welding or cutting I was a sophomore in high school. We've got these old bike frames that we want to chop up and turn into a big CD rack with sprockets and chains and all, but it'll never happen while we lack the skills. While I was doing that, Aoibheall and the girls walked into town and saw the festival. The "wine tasting" was as bogus as the tasting at Uncorked!, but while Uncorked!'s problem was that you couldn't buy any of the wine, Boulder Creek's problem was that you were given 3 ounces at a time. That's not a tasting, that's an excuse for public drunkenness.

Sunday night, we had a barbecue on the deck, admired the blue railing, and then had cake! Happy birthday to you, sweetie!

Monday we got up and slapped a second coat on the railing. That went very quickly, and when we were done there was plenty of day left. So we piled into the car and drove over the hill. Picked up a pair of hiking boots for the BabyGoddess and then we went for a walk up the Flume Trail. We didn't make it to the reservoir, but we went farther than we had the previous time, and that's improvement. Inexplicably tired, we wrapped up our celebration with dinner out and an early bedtime.

But we have a freshly painted railing! Now we just need to affix the sheets of lath to the railing and get the pet door installed and get a chain link fence put in across the side of the house and we'll be ready for the doggies to come home. We've got six weeks. Can We Do It? I think so.

Creatures of Habit

There's a reason that the phrase is "creatures" of habit, rather than "men" of habit. It's because animals seem particularly fond of having things just so and keeping them that way. If you recall, there was a time when we had 16 laying hens and we had a spell of egg-eating because the hens were feeling crowded in the scant 6 nesting boxes we had for them. Three and a third hens sharing a box seemed to be intolerable, and the hens would peck at the eggs of their rivals, trying to drive them out.

Because we are nothing if not indulgent, the Pirate duly built a luxurious 15-nest box so that nearly every hen could have her own personal nest, and for quite a while many of them were in use. Every hen had her favorite.

Then our flock was reduced to the six hens we now have. That's right. Six hens. Each one could have TWO nests to herself and we'd have three to spare (yes, this is what you use algebra for when you're a writer), but do they?



Of course not. Six hens, and although they have yet to all lay on the same day (we customarily get five eggs a day), they all lay them in exactly the same box every single day.

And because the hens are so regular in their habits, it has invited another group of visitors to make things in our house to their liking.



This is the entrance to the most fashionable restaurant in ratdom. It is, coincidentally, a rather large rat-hole that opens onto the trough into which we put our hens' feed in the morning.

In fact, our entire yard looks like a battle field, pockmarked with holes and gullies made by places where networks of holes have collapsed. Every morning, it seems, there is a new mound of dirt thrown up by the excavation of a new hole.



Another curious fact is that, although the number of hens eating from the trough has been reduced by fully two-thirds, the amount of food consumed has not dropped by quite the same amount, yet our hens are not so fat that they can't still flap about after us, clucking at us in argumentative tones. But the food must be going somewhere, right? Right.

We've seen that "somewhere," in the form of many, MANY small, fat, round packrats. The cats bring them into the house both dead and alive, and more peek their impertinent faces out of their holes when we go out to tend to the hens in the evening. It's obvious that there are far more rats than the two (unmotivated) cats can catch. We could poison the rats, but the poison is just as likely to be picked up by bugs that the hens catch and eat, or the poisoned rats will be caught by the cats, who will in turn be sick.

But nature has provided us a wonderful solution to this dilemma, in the form of rat terriers. Bred specifically to catch and kill rats with astounding efficiency and consider the whole thing the greatest game in the world.

We've already reserved two dogs of the litters that are being born this season. The first of the puppies has been born, and we've named her Esme. She'll stay at the breeder for quite a while, though, because another dog is due to give birth next weekend, and we'll be getting one of those puppies as well.



Here she is at six days old. She'll likely top out at twelve pounds and perhaps a foot high - a perfect height for digging out rats. I've also found a terrier club in the area for people who like to take their terriers out and work them in different places. The Pirate and I are rather keen to join up and have the new puppies train up with other, more experienced dogs.

Although, right now in these pictures, I think that she looks like she's made out of marzipan.