The countdown ends...

 There are only a few days left in this year. I am sure I will have lots of thoughts of things that need to change. I need to keep the changes small. No one in this house seems to adjust very well to change. This past week I have spent organizing and rearranging the bedrooms and churning cream into butter. DH has tried to amputate his fingers with a circular saw and needs more practice to get a complete process. Though it won't be easy as his saw is not where he left it.

The oldest kiddo's dresser

her desk and shelf 

Her bunk and the love seat under it

Today I am starting on the third and final bedroom. I have ordered a new bed for the youngest. I hope it works out. She was not happy that the oldest got to have the love seat in her room. I was glad to get it out of the living room. This house is too small for big furniture. The bunkbed without the lower bunk helps the tiny room it is in seem bigger. The other bedroom is larger, but the child has an enormous amount of stuff that needs downsizing.

That will be a blog post all its' own. Now I should tell you the story behind the house chicken. A bit of time back before the holidays, maybe a couple of weeks, or maybe it was between turkey day and tree day, regardless it was a warmish day at first. The oldest of the children came out of her room and asked and I quote "Why does it sound like a chicken is screaming bloody murder outside?"   I thought the child was a bit crazy as the chickens had not been let out of the coop yet. I went on with my day. 

Soon it was time to gather eggs, as I went out the door, I saw one of my little dogs after a poor chicken, I chased the dog back into the house. The wind had started blowing pretty cold, I thought I better get the eggs and check on the poor chicken. I gathered the eggs and set the basket on the porch and returned to the scene of the crime. The poor chicken was in shock and missing many feathers, she also had multiple bite marks from that rotten little dog. I could not put her back in with the other chickens as they would finish her off.

I had no choice but to let her die or take her inside and see if she could be saved. The laundry room is pretty much the warmest room, so that is where we started out.

her after the 2nd attack 

She was healing nicely, although it took a whole day to get her to room temperature. The laundry room was a good spot for her and relatively safe. Relatively being the key word. One day I was in the bedroom talking with DH, the dogs started barking frantically and the chicken screaming bloody murder. I ran to the living room only to find the odds stacked horribly against the chicken. Not sure how I grabbed her and avoided being bit by any dog, but I did. I needed a new hiding place for the chicken.

They didn't get as many feathers this time around. Perhaps her odds of healing this time around were even better.

Almost ready to go back outside

just needs a few more feathers

That dear blog is how we came to have a house chicken.