Okay, I am now both frozen and dripping with sweat. My fingers have swollen from getting too cold, and my face can't decide if it's frozen stiff or overheating. Here's a little story from this evening.
I did my usual head count this evening and came up 36. Well, that would be normal, except Mr. Po is bunking with the hens, so my head count should be 37. Instant panic mode.
So after counting and counting again, I determined that my little Sebright Rosie was missing. I looked between all the big fluff butts, in the nests, behind the nests, in all the corners. No little Rosie. At last, I went outside and looked up and there she was, easily 20 feet up in the big walnut tree that grows next to the coop.
I ran inside for help, but my sister was the only one around. She suggested that I use the duster. See, we have an extendable duster because the ceiling in our living room is the height of the first and second floor. I didn't consider that even so, the duster is not quite long enough to reach the ceiling and we have to use a step stool to reach the ceiling. Out I run, duster in tow, to knock little Rosie out of the tree.
The duster was probably 3 feet too short.
So outside, in the dark, I'm climbing up on things and swinging with little success. She was
just out of reach. I don't like to say this, but I'm just a little OCD, and since I could see her, I had to get her down.
Back to the house I went, but on the way, I spotted the step ladder and it was absolutely perfect. With it, I climbed up onto the roof of the coop addition, covering myself in snow and filling my sleeves as well. Oh, and on the way up, my flashlight, which hangs on a lanyard, hooked on one of the rungs of the step ladder and broke off, disappearing into the snow.
From atop the addition, the duster reached little Rosie. Man, can that bird fly! She flew all the way up to the house, and I had to quickly climb down and get her before she hid again. With Rosie under one arm, I dug through the snow--bare handed, I might add, because I didn't think to grab my gloves--but the flashlight is gone. So I had to run to the house AGAIN and get another.
I put Rosie on the perch and counted again, just to be safe. 36 again. I am literally on the verge of tears at this. Count again. Who is missing? And then I remembered Marge in the nests because she's broody. UGH! So I dragged her out and perched her as well, got everyone situated, just about to leave, and then I hear poor Frou-Frou fall off the perches. She is constantly trying to force her way under the other hens and ends up falling off because of it. Had to help her back up onto the roosts. Count again. 37. I can sleep now.
So here I am now, exhausted like I haven't been in a while, legs heavy, arms aching, hands frozen, ready to collapse. Anyone else ready for spring yet?