Just a Random Person

Reginald: *meows in distress*

Narrator: Unfortunately for Reggie, there’s one last step. He’s about to learn that getting wet is nothing – compared to getting dry.”

♫ TRIUMPHANT FANTASY MUSIC ♪

@captioned-vines​

Out at 11 to keep the water trough from slushing up. This time I took Pity on Rosalie and put her coat on. K bought it in the fall, and I don't think she has ever worn it before. She was not thrilled.

She said, "I - can just stay on the porch? Right?"

As a matter of fact, no, Rosalie, you cannot.

I can't even.

She did eventually get the hang of moving in it, but continued jumping into the air and shaking vigorously, trying to get rid of it.

Meanwhile, Hero and the gang are just hanging out by the haybale. Enduring stoically.

Unfortunately this means that come mid to late summer, the cockerels are ready to strike out on their own ie. Stop sleeping with those silly grownups (alternate version as reported by the adult chickens: parents kick those absolute idiot teenagers out of the coop perches due to a serious case of Excessive Hormones and Unruly Behaviour) (a pattern that does seem to match with their jungle fowl ancestors)

Then, when one goes out to lock up the coop at night, one is faced with the tree nearest the coop being filled - up to a height of about 30' - with chickens who are convinced this is the Best and Only place to sleep. (To be clear there is significantly more indoor perch space than actually needed, they could and do all comfortably fit inside)

Choices at this point are:

a) feed the raccoons (not ideal on many levels including but not limited to that's *my* future dinner dangit!)

b) shake the tree (at best resulting in confused and irritated chickens landing on one's head, also not ideal)

c) get out the leaf blower because I have yet to meet a chicken that enjoys its butt fluff being suddenly blown backwards

So C it is. Which thankfully after a few days does result in being able to run the chickens out of the tree just by turning it on for a few seconds. They aren't stupid birds. But those first few days I do have to stand around under the tree (or on the coop roof) causally leafblowing my chickens.

Anyway, the next night we watched a thing about some pig man who is supposed to live in Vermont. People said it had claws and a pig nose but walked upright like a man. Now, I happen to know that sideshows used to shave bears and present them as pig men. So every piece of evidence they gave of this monster sounds to me like a bear with mange.

So now the running joke in our house is that everything is bears. Aliens? Bears. Loch Ness monster? Bear. Every cryptozoological mystery is just a very crafty bear.

I currently have two main theories:

I put egg on the table on my balcony when i went to water my little vegetable garden and then my nemesis, the fat rude bird who sometimes digs up my garden and then yells rude bird songs at me through my window stole my egg.

egg is still roaming around inside my apartment, possibly cleverly evading capture by hiding on one of the shelves i dont want to tidy cause there's too much stuff on there

i'm still holding out hope that egg and me will be reunited some time in the future. where are you egg? please come back egg...

yes of course! here's an artist's impression of my bird nemesis yelling a rude song at me:

Friday morning at around 9 or 10 CET I will put an egg outside on my balcony and livestream it at https://www.twitch.tv/eggwatch2025

EGG WATCH 2025 is now LIVE!