The Evolution of Atlas: A Breeding (and Chat) Thread

Sorry you'very hit a bad patch, Cynthia. I know those times. Since my sig other can't walk well, I've found myself needing to call people -hire help. I just can't do everything anymore. I'd love to have less chickens, but then I order more!

Sorry you are going thru a sick or old phase with your chickens. It always seems to come in clusters.
 
I put the youngsters in their coop for the day. They are a bit scared, but seem very happy. I may bring them in this evening, for the night then put them back out tomorrow for the day again. By Wed. the night temps will be in the mid 60's so I can leave them out after that. We don't get any cold weather unless accompanied by rain, and wind. If it were just the cold, I wouldn't be concerned, but the combination of wet, wind, are a concern.
 
We have two men coming on Wednesday, the guys that I had to postpone last week because of the ER visit. Maybe this place will look better after that day, at least some areas of it. I need to get all the stuff out of the original coop and tear it down. Then, the other 8x12 that is being used for storage suddenly developed a leaky roof, plus needs painting badly. And I have to get the basement bedroom cleaned out for my son's visit in three months. So much to do.
Maretta's crop had less in it this morning, but it's still big. She is pooping a lot of tiny amounts and she's out now free ranging with the group, showing interest and energy, though that may run out quickly.
 
Even with prioritizing, there are just too many things and I would be forever "doing". I want to stop, just stop. I just cleaned the bathroom baseboard around the toilet, but I can't reach without pretty much putting my head in the toilet. He has longer arms, but he can't do that job because he can't bend to do it now. I'm sick of doing the filthy jobs. I know that sounds petty, but even when his back is not quite as bad, he has terrible eyesight and can't even see when the dirt is there. So, it's me, me, me. He lets everything go and has for awhile. I mean, he could have at least cleaned the bathroom vanity top around the sink...doesn't require bending. But, I do it all the time, me. He says tell me if you want something done. Why can't he see it needs doing and just DO IT? Even when he could do things, he pretty much didn't and hasn't for a long time. To be fair, he will use a broom, but then, doesn't use the vacuum cleaner on the rugs after he sweeps. He doesn't see the dirt that covers baseboards and door frames and finger smudges around doorknobs and on these stupid white doors they put on after the house fire. It all just looks grungy to me. I don't like asking for him to do stuff like he's a teenage boy who can't see things that need doing and I know all he is doing is drowning in his current situation, zoning out on the computer and television. Thankfully, I can lift a 50# feed bag over my shoulder and put it in the can or I'd be up a creek without a paddle.

About now, I just want to bulldoze the place and leave. I want all the collected crap gone, but no, he has to pick through every single item in the old coop, to see what he wants to keep. NO! Enough! So there are 30 screwdrivers and 20 pairs of pliers and jars and jars of fasteners, grommets, etc, from us and my dad's basement. Keep two or three of each type and sell the rest. What is he going to do with all those tools and hardware now? He can't build anything anymore. Maybe it's a man thing or a packrat thing, I don't know. I told him just advertise on the yard sale groups on Facebook that he has a storage building full of tools and whatever, come look and make me a reasonable offer. I just hope that he can get his back in better shape and get that building cleaned out so we can tear it down-no, have someone else tear it down. The perimeter fence that served as the back of the old pen is crushed from trees falling on it, lateral pressure from the dirt the chickens dug up against it and I can't re-fence that section by myself. So, another job neither of us can do. I just want to quit "doing" for awhile, or thinking about all this stuff that has to be done, ailing husband, ailing chickens, etc, etc, etc. Somewhere in there, I try to find time, energy and motivation to make quilts. And I hope against hope that I don't break another bone in all this....that would just do me in.
 
Even with prioritizing, there are just too many things and I would be forever "doing". I want to stop, just stop. I just cleaned the bathroom baseboard around the toilet, but I can't reach without pretty much putting my head in the toilet. He has longer arms, but he can't do that job because he can't bend to do it now. I'm sick of doing the filthy jobs. I know that sounds petty, but even when his back is not quite as bad, he has terrible eyesight and can't even see when the dirt is there. So, it's me, me, me. He lets everything go and has for awhile. I mean, he could have at least cleaned the bathroom vanity top around the sink...doesn't require bending. But, I do it all the time, me. He says tell me if you want something done. Why can't he see it needs doing and just DO IT? Even when he could do things, he pretty much didn't and hasn't for a long time. To be fair, he will use a broom, but then, doesn't use the vacuum cleaner on the rugs after he sweeps. He doesn't see the dirt that covers baseboards and door frames and finger smudges around doorknobs and on these stupid white doors they put on after the house fire. It all just looks grungy to me. I don't like asking for him to do stuff like he's a teenage boy who can't see things that need doing and I know all he is doing is drowning in his current situation, zoning out on the computer and television. Thankfully, I can lift a 50# feed bag over my shoulder and put it in the can or I'd be up a creek without a paddle.

About now, I just want to bulldoze the place and leave. I want all the collected crap gone, but no, he has to pick through every single item in the old coop, to see what he wants to keep. NO! Enough! So there are 30 screwdrivers and 20 pairs of pliers and jars and jars of fasteners, grommets, etc, from us and my dad's basement. Keep two or three of each type and sell the rest. What is he going to do with all those tools and hardware now? He can't build anything anymore. Maybe it's a man thing or a packrat thing, I don't know. I told him just advertise on the yard sale groups on Facebook that he has a storage building full of tools and whatever, come look and make me a reasonable offer. I just hope that he can get his back in better shape and get that building cleaned out so we can tear it down-no, have someone else tear it down. The perimeter fence that served as the back of the old pen is crushed from trees falling on it, lateral pressure from the dirt the chickens dug up against it and I can't re-fence that section by myself. So, another job neither of us can do. I just want to quit "doing" for awhile, or thinking about all this stuff that has to be done, ailing husband, ailing chickens, etc, etc, etc. Somewhere in there, I try to find time, energy and motivation to make quilts. And I hope against hope that I don't break another bone in all this....that would just do me in.
No, it doesn’t sound petty. I have a friend who comes and cleans for me. She is priceless. Of course I pay her. I would rather groom a dog and pay for housecleaning.
 

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