There is a certain peace gained from the daily chores on my tiny little farm. Before the kids get up and the day starts to really churn, I slip on my boots and head out to feed the goats and let them out into the pasture. I head to the hen house to check their feed and refill the waterers.
On this particular day things just started a little off. First of all it's April vacation so the house is FULL of people this morning. AND it's raining so my husband didn't go to work-one more person. They are all up milling around getting in my way, messing things up. (Except the teenager, she's not up) SO, I head out to do my chores leaving the melee behind me. I feed the goats, pet dear Dottie
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and head to the chicken house. I open the latch, step in and the wind blows the door shut. Whatever. I feed the chickens, check for eggs, sneer at Charles for being a jerk and push open the door. I push open the door. The door has latched and I am trapped in the hen house. There is no need to holler for help, no one can hear me out here. I decided to wait. and wait. How long before they begin to miss me?
So after 20 minutes my options are squeezing through the chicken door...
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Yeah, that's not happening. Ever.
I could climb up to these windows and somehow get my feet out and then scoot out...
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TWENTY years ago maybe.
So I stand there waiting for them to miss me. It stinks. Figuratively and literally. The chickens are suspicious of me. I hope I don't die here. I can't believe I have been out here for 40 minutes and no one has missed me. Help...
I go through the seven stages of grief.
1. Shock and Denial~I can't believe that the door had the audacity to shut and there is no way that this can be happening to ME!
2. Pain and Guilt~Well the smell is almost painful and I should have replaced the wire that opens the latch from the inside when it fell off. I didn't, I am so stupid.
3. Anger and Bargaining~How could those
people just leave me out here. If the'd only come get me I'd never be snippy at them again. Except for sometimes when they annoy me.
4. Depression, reflection and lonliness~This is so not fun. I think of the things that are just outside that door. I miss the noise and clamor that is sure to be going on in my kitchen. Chickens do not make good friends, they all are smushed into a corner trying to get away from me.
5. The upward turn~I think this is when I actually tried to get up on the box and climb out through the window.
6. Reconstruction and Working Through~I took the matter into my own hands (after about an HOUR) and kicked the door down.
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7. Acceptance and Hope~Now I've got a broken door but it can be fixed and my backyard never looked so lovely! I'm free!
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Jeesh...
Smiles from the farm,
Lisa
PS: PLEASE check out this dear blog,
Rural Maine Life She has the most darling give away in celebration of her birthday and her 100th post! She is the loveliest person and smart enough to not get caught in a chicken house.