Still ramping up: 126 yesterday,148 today.
Dogs found the stash in the cooler and ate 58 eggs. Noxious gas, dogs outside.
Actually experienced the saying: "don't put all your eggs in one basket". I walked back from collecting eggs, and there are enough now that I need two baskets, when one of the handles broke. Fragile those eggs and about 40 of them, the dogs were happy, again, and again had to sleep outside. As you can tell I am still completely enthralled by the chicken activities. I have no trepidations about this grant or showing it off. As a matter of fact a local producer stopped by the other day, curious and asking. He helped get eggs and feed and water and it was a nice visit. Told him: fertilizer, reduced tillage, less weeds and you can see that. Tried to get a count on the chicks the other day, Vincent counting one coup, and I the other. Problem was we only had one bottle of wine, and since we were present the chickens behaved differently, again confirming that the mere presence of a spectator will influence the measurement. (The uncertainty principle has been frequently confused with the observer effect, evidently even by its originator, Werner Heisenberg. See Wikipedia if you want the details and can't sleep). (or count chickens in your sleep, going in up a ramp, approximately 222). Chickens are getting strange: you walk up to them and they just squat and wait to be picked up, strange...
It really is one of the funnest things I can think of (and I can think up some shit): a bottle of wine, friends, and watching chickens go to sleep. Actually got handshake contracts for 70 dozen a week, nice, leaves me just enough to trade with Steve Simon, the local bar owner. (Decent exchange rate: 1 draft: 1 dozen)
I started this note last week and then all of a sudden it is a week later, but last week the flies were back, it was December first and I was outsided in t-shirt and shorts. Globally messed up weather. Went to town for an hour, and next thing you know it is 500 dollar later and I didn't even have any fun. Bought bits of this and that: 60 quarts of oil, it really was on sale sale, 500 lb of chicken feed, one alternator, a new O2 welding tank from MFA, (Bruce, who works there, told me that "as a kid" after a hangover he would take a couple of good hits straight from the tank to reload his oxygen carrying capacity in his blood),
4 library books, recycling and to top it off I got 15 two by four by eights. It all fit in the car, with the doors closed, except for myself. That lumber was to build some new workbenches, the building was alright but then you got to clean all the crap up again, and you found stuff, and more stuff that was so carefully hidden under benches in boxes behind more stuff.
Oh, and more stuff, more stuff. So often I think about how those two suitcases I arrived with in the USA have exploded into the fourth dimension. Found a two dollar sprinkler at the 79 cent goodwill store, completely the bomb.
Spinach is growing good in the tunnel, strawberries are getting covered in weeds again, but I don't mind, how can I not like Chick weed? Larkspur is coming up, some stuff is blooming into the heat, and there are still turnips and a nice salad in the tunnel.
And the latest of the greatest news: I found my bathroom back again. It took 2 days, but there really is a white bathtub in my house, whooopiee! It is legal again to turn on the light and touch things. Still looking for T.P. though.
Pieter Los, born in Scotland, raised in the Netherlands, lost in the USA. .