Shift on the Fly
Yesterday, our household had a little mishap. No big deal - a miscommunication that led to someone not being where they were expected. The "someone" was our 17-year-old, who realized that going home rather than staying at the orthodontist meant that she would *not* be going out to dinner with us, and who was put out by being told that she would have to make dinner for herself.
After we got home and talked about it, I explained that part of being an adult is looking at the situation in which one finds oneself and taking responsibility for yourself in it. Nobody went to bed mad, and I think this particular lesson might stick with her.
Cut to today. Today was the day we took our 7-month-old kitten to the vet to get fixed. The Pirate was supposed to have picked her up and then gone on to pick up the 17-year-old from physical therapy, but the kitten wasn't going to be ready in time. No sweat - I left work early (in the middle of a process), stopped by the vet and picked up the kitten and then came home. I put the poor woozy fuzzball into the spare room and went to go find a catbox to set up for her and bring up the rest of the stuff from the car. On my 87th trip through the garage, I realized that my phone (which was still in my car) was ringing. It was the Pirate, but I didn't have hands to answer it.
When I finally did call, the Pirate wanted to know if it was okay that he had taken on two day-old chicks from a friend of ours. We're not currently set up for new chicks. We've got a recovering kitten to take care of. Um....and then I remembered all the times that *I* was the one calling him and saying "Honey, I'm bringing home..." and the fact that we just told our kid that when you're an adult, you take the situation you're faced with and you figure it out.
"Sure," I told him. "Bring 'em home."
Normally we get our chicks in groups of 25, and we set up our brooder in the garage with several heat lamps, etc. What to do for two? Here's our solution:
What's that? you cry. That's right. It's the cat carrier. With shavings on the floor and the chicks' feeder and waterer. The heat lamp is suspended from a cupboard door above. I figure they'll both stay in there for up to a week. After that, it looks like I'll be surrendering my parking spot in the garage in favor of a couple of baby chickens. They're Barred Rocks, my favorite breed for temperament and laying ability, and it'll take 4-5 weeks before they're fully fledged and ready to meet the other hens. Even at that, we may let them hang out a little longer - they'll be much smaller than the other hens.
This brings our little brood up to 23, although it's too early to say whether these two are boys or girls (or one of each).
Now, I'm off to figure out how we keep them warm on Saturday - our normal day without electricity. Don't worry - I have An Idea!!
After we got home and talked about it, I explained that part of being an adult is looking at the situation in which one finds oneself and taking responsibility for yourself in it. Nobody went to bed mad, and I think this particular lesson might stick with her.
Cut to today. Today was the day we took our 7-month-old kitten to the vet to get fixed. The Pirate was supposed to have picked her up and then gone on to pick up the 17-year-old from physical therapy, but the kitten wasn't going to be ready in time. No sweat - I left work early (in the middle of a process), stopped by the vet and picked up the kitten and then came home. I put the poor woozy fuzzball into the spare room and went to go find a catbox to set up for her and bring up the rest of the stuff from the car. On my 87th trip through the garage, I realized that my phone (which was still in my car) was ringing. It was the Pirate, but I didn't have hands to answer it.
When I finally did call, the Pirate wanted to know if it was okay that he had taken on two day-old chicks from a friend of ours. We're not currently set up for new chicks. We've got a recovering kitten to take care of. Um....and then I remembered all the times that *I* was the one calling him and saying "Honey, I'm bringing home..." and the fact that we just told our kid that when you're an adult, you take the situation you're faced with and you figure it out.
"Sure," I told him. "Bring 'em home."
Normally we get our chicks in groups of 25, and we set up our brooder in the garage with several heat lamps, etc. What to do for two? Here's our solution:
What's that? you cry. That's right. It's the cat carrier. With shavings on the floor and the chicks' feeder and waterer. The heat lamp is suspended from a cupboard door above. I figure they'll both stay in there for up to a week. After that, it looks like I'll be surrendering my parking spot in the garage in favor of a couple of baby chickens. They're Barred Rocks, my favorite breed for temperament and laying ability, and it'll take 4-5 weeks before they're fully fledged and ready to meet the other hens. Even at that, we may let them hang out a little longer - they'll be much smaller than the other hens.
This brings our little brood up to 23, although it's too early to say whether these two are boys or girls (or one of each).
Now, I'm off to figure out how we keep them warm on Saturday - our normal day without electricity. Don't worry - I have An Idea!!
posted by Aoibheall | 7:32 PM
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