Aaahhhh

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Yessssssss.  Fiiiinally.

Monday we made my most favorite grocery store trip of the year: the trip to the Kroger on Chinoe Road to buy this season’s stock of sunscreen.

Monday was 85 degrees without a cloud in the sky, and at 11am the pool was empty.  So, so beautiful.   (I actually tried to swim Saturday, the very first day the pools opened, when it was cloudy and 65 degrees, and the water temp was also 65 degrees…I made it to 1000m before admitting to myself that it was completely miserable and got out.)

SUM-MMMMEEEERRRRRR

Glad news, sad news

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No joke, I saw one of these walking home from work today.  A real live groundhog in the WILD…of our neighborhood. It looked like a really fat cat with no legs and no ears. I wanted to bring it home with me.

Guess where they don’t have groundhogs.

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The same place I was last weekend.

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The beach! Or at least CA. For a beautiful wedding.

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It was great, but the trip out there and time difference knocked me on my BUTT for most of the time I was there.  So…this week has been mostly spent readjusting and checking back into reality.

Exciting stuff, I know.

2 more weeks until the outdoor pools open.

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And, on a much sadder and completely unrelated note, NASCAR legend and Paul’s favorite driver has passed away.

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Yes, that’s him smoking a cigarette while racing.

RIP Dick Trickle.

If you give a mouse a cookie

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…or a dog a toothbrush…

Paul is on a mission to figure out how to brush Spike’s teeth (his breath is terrible). It seems kind of ridiculous, we’ve had dogs my whole life and I’ve never ever brushed their teeth.  Plus Spike is from Kentucky, which just so happens to be ranked #2 nationally in toothlessness.

But Paul is convinced his teeth are going to rot out and cost us money and this is just good preventative care.   And Greenies aren’t doing the trick.

So far Spike will have nothing to do with the chicken-flavored toothpaste.  Apparently it’s not as tasty as cat turds.

This dance ain’t for everybody…

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I actually haven’t been pushing anything at all, except maybe the massive carnitas burrito I made last night into my mouth.

Speaking of things that aren’t for everybody, it’s official, I am no longer running.  I did two short runs last week, and all weekend had pretty horrible pain in my stomach, like where it was hard to walk, roll over, sit down…anything.  Doctor said the ligaments were just strained.   Miserable.  So I was sure to make everyone around me miserable too.

So now, when I come across pictures like this:

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…all I see is STAB. STAB. STAB. STAB. with each step.  It’s a shame, I miss running, but I’ll be back soon enough.

For now:

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That’s more my style anyway.  I’ve been swimming 3-4x a week and walking to work every day.  So far I’m a fan the new training schedule.  It’ll be even more amazing when the outdoor pools open in like 3 weeks.  EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

Coop Drama: Part Two

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After a failed initial attempt, Paul started doing more research on how to get the chickens to not lay while they’re roosting.

This is tricky.  The two chickens currently roost on this, butts out:

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Generally speaking they get up with the sunrise (which keeps getting earlier and can be a real bitch on Saturdays).   On random days, though, they will lay before the sun comes up.  From the perch.  And we aren’t always there to let them out right away (especially the mornings that I leave the house at 5 to coach and Paul either works overnight or has to be at the hospital really early). And that often leads to cannibalism.

So Paul found some perch designs online that were attached to a laying box.  The idea is the chickens roost on the perch (so they can sleep without sitting in their own turds), and when they’re ready to lay, jump into the box, lay, jump out of the box, and go about their business.

Theoretically.

IMAG3245-1The new contraption. We had some problems fitting it in the coop (planning, people).  But we took off the door, got it in, and set it up:

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New perch!  Foolproof, right?

Day 1: Chickens are found facing outwards while sleeping and sticking their butts into the box (backwards from how they normally position themselves).  In the morning, the box is full of turds.  But no eggs.

Day 2: Chickens are facing their usual way, butts out.  No eggs anywhere.

Day 3: Chickens are both found sleeping IN the laying box when we go to let them out.  (One is crushed in front of the other…it is kind of impressive that they can both fit.)  Later that day, one egg is on the ground of the coop, one in the penthouse.

What the crap.

Later on Day 3 I found an article explaining how the laying box should be on the other side of the coop from where the chickens roost, so there seems to be some debate on this issue.  I sent it to Paul.  He stressed about whether to take the box out.

Day 4: ONE (soft and broken) EGG FOUND IN THE BOX!  UNEATEN!  Minor success.

We’re giving it a few more days, see how it pans out.  Maybe they’re just adjusting.

Coop Drama: Part One

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If we were being accurate, this should probably be called Coop Drama: Part 2,395,698.  It never ends.

First up, please take a moment to admire the newly summer-ized coop.

Before (winter coop):

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After (summer coop):

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We left some of the wood on there to keep the inside, namely the food area, dry during storms.  So far so good.

Now. For about 2 months we had really solid egg production again.  We were even getting some MONSTERS.

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Then, gradually, the soft and really thin shells started coming again.  Like, so thin you’d reach in to pick the egg up and it would collapse in your hand.  And while the chickens weren’t actively eating the eggs regularly, when they fell and broke they were starting to again.

Our chickens sleep this way:

IMG_20130424_082508Butts out.

This is problematic for the eating-your-own-egg issue, because they jump down and the egg is right there for them, buffet style.

So, attempt #1: build a ramp to place under their butts, slanting down towards the back of the coop, so that when the chickens lay from the perch the egg rolls down where they aren’t really visible and or readily available for eating.  Simple.

So we built a ramp.  Next step: padding for the ramp.  We went looking for plastic nesting pads, as seen here:

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These are nice because you can hose them down (for all the turds) and chickens eat EVERYTHING…but they can’t really peck this type of plastic off of the ground (like they can, and will, with astroturf or other types of fake grass).

Unfortunately, for some bizarre reason, you can’t find this anywhere in Lexington.  Lowe’s, Southern States, Home Depot, the local farming store…nowhere.  Have to order it online.  What?  We live in KENTUCKY.  Add it to the list.

Anyway, Paul found the next best option the he thought the chickens wouldn’t eat: some sort of dried grass/hay like padding.   So we padded the ramp…

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…placed it inside…

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…tested it…

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…and voila!  Beautiful, padded, egg-drop safe ramp…that the chickens promptly went in and destroyed.  They used their massive talons and totally tore up the padding.  The first egg that landed on it broke and didn’t go anywhere.

Attempt #1: Fail.

Back to the drawing board.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

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Keeneland yesterday was awesome.

Also, happy Boston Marathon day!  Good luck to everyone running.

To get in the spirit, nice interview here with Shalane Flanagan (of whom I am a big fan) from this weekend.  Really interesting commentary on the physical and emotional toll of having a bad race, and kind of impressive that she’s able to talk like this a few days out of her first big race back.  Cheering her on from my desk.