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Friday, August 17, 2018

Plans

An architect, I am not.  Nor am I a builder of any renown.  Well, maybe a rather infamous builder - as in when real builders look inside the run-in shed and say, "Wow.  And how long has this been standing?"


That does not stop me.  I drew up the plans for the pergola.  The only reason it collapsed was that I did not consider the relativity of snow load vs. tall leggy structure.  We moved it forward by at least three and a half feet and anchored it to the deck railing.  At least I can get my snow rake on the roof now and it has a fighting chance of staying erect this year.


My next project was born of too little sleep and a long string of extremely early mornings.  While I sit, covered in furry bodies - so much fun in the summer - waiting for my first iced coffee to hit my blood stream, I should, really, not be allowed to surf Instagram.  I was mesmerized by photographs of blue quail eggs and the amazing farmers that developed them.  And their superior photography skills.  Then there is the convenient lack of recall.  You know, of how I was downsizing and how I tried quail and was totally done in by their piercing pre-dawn (24 hour) noise.  Yes, that little bit of memory totally eluded me in the wee hours of the morning, as I cackled and ordered a dozen hatching eggs.  Sheesh.  Instead of harkening back to the teeth-gritting racket outside of my bedroom window, I was leaping ahead to figure out when would be the best time to receive them, given fall, incubation and brooding time, etc.  I never look back.  It will be my downfall.  I figure that, even if the gilding comes off the lily, so to speak, I will be able to recoup any outlay fairly quickly.  The eggs will be sold via the farmers market.  Extra quail can be sold as breeding pairs or egg-layers.


After the early, heady days of imagining my own stash of brown speckled, blue eggs, faded into the bright light of reality (see?  I have been reading books!)  I realized I would need somewhere to keep them.  Somewhere that did not involve close proximity to my bedroom window.  Voila!  I do have a barn structure!  It is in the opposite direction of my bedroom and is enclosed.  It will protect the quail over the winter and insulate my shell-like ears from their strident calls.  The sheep may be cursing me, but I am used to that.  As the weather warms, they can be moved outside to the far side (as in far away from me) of the barn, under the pine tree.


I called upon my usual handyman and provided him with direction (Ed, you can close your eyes now.):
Very hi-tech

The details...


We communicate through texting and by my dropping envelopes and instructions on the passenger seat in his truck.  I figured I would give him plenty of notice and make it so that he could build it at home.  I'm sure his wife will be happy about that, although the upside of having him work on the LLF is that his wife, Sam, and his son, Hank, come to see him.  I am rather taken with Hank - he is one, is a complete towhead, and, when prompted, knows what cows, pigs, tractors, Santa, dogs, cats, and chickens say.  He will also tell you he is one.  Plus, the Butter Pat is much happier when held in the arms of his beloved Billy.



19 comments:

Pioneer Woman at Heart said...

Looks like a good plan to me. I'm still waiting on Hubby to build me a coop to get guineas.

Theresa Y said...

What??????? As if your days and nights are full enough you go and order more critters?! Heh, Heh, atta girl! A woman after my own heart, We just don't know when to quit do we. Good luck on your new adventure. I'm rooting for you...

Susan said...

Good luck keeping your Guineas in a coop! Mine never behaved. That was one farm animal I will never forget - as in the racket was deafening and they seem to have a death wish. However, that said, they are amazing tick-eaters.

Susan said...

I blame it on sleep deprivation. I blame EVERYTHING on sleep deprivation. :)

coffeeontheporchwithme said...

Oh dear. And so it begins. Question: what is an LLF? See what happened when my husband fixed up our chicken coop - now I have ten birds (still don't know if some of the little ones are roosters) (Oh hey, wanna buy a rooster?) -Jenn

Theresa said...

Ah yes, I recognize this disease. You know it hits me with geese. I would love a pair of wonderful Toulouse Geese. Then of course I come to my senses and think about goose poop all over and the fact that I am not going to clean bird shit of any type, not now, not ever. I like my birds wild and pooping elsewhere. On quail, I ordered it once at a fancy restaurant. It was so tiny, such a worthless little morsel to cost a life. I was in tears at the appetizer course and it ruined the whole meal. It was at least unforgettable. Pets to the Pat and Friends.

Susan said...

Yes, Jenn. For all my good intentions, it always goes to hell in a handbasket.

Susan said...

You? Geese? I cannot eat quail and don't intend to. I once had a similar experience with a steamed lobster. It was served, lovingly swaddled in a white cloth napkin. It looked so much like a baby that I burst into tears and couldn't eat it.

Theresa said...

I figure geese are the terriers of the domestic fowl world, or maybe it would be Guinea Fowl? Remember Monty Python's Killer Rabbit, I want Killer Geese! ;-)
I had the same experience with a lobster, but i learned to overcome it although hypocrite that I am, I cannot actually kill the tasty crustacean myself and always thought crawfish steams were tempting the devil himself with all that mass murder. Voodoo to be sure if those mud bugs rise up......

Susan said...

I caught a salmon the other day, out learning to fish to add to my self sufficiency skills. Felt so bad for it, I can hardly choke it down. Not only did it die but I was taking food from the orcas who need all the help they can get. Now I know I can do it I won't fish again until you know who pushes the world economy in to chaos. My in laws had a few quail, adorable.

Goatldi said...

Jenn
I like the was you think. Enablers are a dying breed. Maybe I can sell her a bridge too .🙀

Goatldi said...

This is hysterical. I myself first fished in a pond on our Fresno Zoological grounds. I was 5 years with my Daddy the victim,er, catch of the day was a 4 inch long if that Rainbow Trout. I am sure the wailing could be heard for miles when Daddy announced well we need to skin it before we take it home to eat. Horrors no one mentioned eating before just fishing. Daddy caved to his only child and the fish got tossed back. Oh Susan sorry I will leave a comment on present subject matter after I feed the dogs. This blog is so entertaining even the comments deserve comments.

Leigh said...

I hope this works! Looks like a plan. :)

Goatldi said...

About 28 years ago my daughter won BIS in the Junior poultry competition at the Fresno Fair. Why do I bring this up? With the county fair win she earned a spot in the competition the next year at our state fair. "And the point is?"
That same year there was much ado about the new thing in poultry. Japanese quail and the spotlight was on the incubation and resulting hatch of a bazillion teeny tiny quail hatchlings. A adorable so your goal to make your fortune raising these little darlings makes perfect sense to me.

I also love your blueprints for their humble abode. And it is keen that you have vision and can transfer that vision to someone who can interpret it into a structure that will stand forever. Not me I build temporarily permanent.

The bonded relationship the son and the pup have makes it more special. Or in short I conquer with Leigh "sounds like a plan."

ellen abbott said...

because you don't have enough to do?

Susan said...

Exactly!

Mama Pea said...

Oh, dear Susan of the over-active mind! I sure hope your quail adventure turns out perfect . . . and much different than ours did!

Goatldi, we build lots of permanently temporary around here. Sigh.

Goatldi said...

Mama Pea you are in good company!

Ed said...

I like projects like that. I'm sure your handy man and I have a lot in common. Sometimes it is preferential to have a few loose details and let the handyman come up with the rest.

All our quail around here are wild so I had no idea they were such noisy creatures in the morning. In fact, I can't recall having ever heard any noise from them except for the beating of their wings when I accidentally flush a covey that causes my heart to skip a beat or three!

When I'm in the Philippines, I can buy a bushel basket of boiled quail eggs and sit their for quite a while eating my fill. That is the nice thing about them, it takes a long time to peel enough to get full.