Category Archives: Sixth
How to catch free range chickens
Sooner or later you will want to catch one of these wee feathered creatures. Perhaps they’re sick, and need treating. Or you have sold some, and need to catch them for the buyer. Or.. well, there are many reasons, but first and foremost, you have to catch them. Many people seem scared of chickens (yes, you know I’m thinking of you, G –Â hehe), imagining this sort of scenario:
Really, though, chickens aren’t scary, and they are much smaller than you.
Onto the catching! Normally chickens just cluck around the yard, idly scratching up treats, and lounging in the sun. Easy job, I hear you think to yourself – and then I know you’ve never tried to catch one before. If you have tried, well – I can hear those screams in your head. There, there. It’s ok. We’re in this together. Let me give you some internet support, perhaps some tips, and a virtual cuppa and medal afterwards.
Firstly, find your chickens. They’ll be just doing their thing.
Casually wander over, not making eye contact, perhaps making gentle ‘chook chook chook’ noises – you know, the ones that always make them run to you for food.
Look down to select your target chicken. The area will now look a bit like this.
Sprinkle some food around, they’ll come then. They always do. Look away, be as non threatening as possible. Perhaps attempt a nonchalant whistle, or pretend to read a paper. A quick sideways glance will now show that the chicken area looks like this.
Give up, and just race around the yard like a red-faced lunatic trying to catch them. (And yes, those photos are just badly photo-shopped, but you get the idea, right? :D)
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You’ll almost never get the chicken you want, to start with: keep trying, or treat the one you have managed to catch and hope they spread the medicine.
Have a nice drink. Tea. Coffee. Vodka. Something!
Seriously though, the best and only semi sane advice I could give you about catching chickens is to get them at night time, and lock them in a safe enclosure. If they sleep in a coop, just lock them in. If, like mine, they roost in trees or every-blimmin-where, resign yourself to some intensive exercise, and know that you have burnt enough calories to have chocolate fudge icecream, and probably excercised your vocab as well. No bad thing, really?!
If anyone has any great tips, I’d love to hear them! (except for drugging chickens, thats not good). And be aware you will most likely end up VERY angry at your chickens, by the end. Be gentle when you do catch them, even though they won’t be gentle with you 🙂 Be afraid, G, be very afraid. 😀
Loving that sudden realisation that a child is Up To No Good
So, all is quiet. I am working, and cuddling Mr R (the 2.5 year old), simultaneously writing up listings and making up vaguely disturbing stories which had little to do with the stories he actually had in his hand. Parenthood, who says it can’t be fun?
Mr L, a sturdy and stroppy 4.5 year old, is playing Playstation. Don’t look at me like that. It was Ants Life, ok? Not GTA anything. Alright, he was writing the alphabet, composing a piano sonata and scrubbing the floor because he likes me to be happy, I just didn’t want you to feel bad. Happy now? 😀
All was well in the world. Dum dum dummmm (impending doom noise, plus quite descriptive of my brain any time I even THINK anything like that). L gets up, goes to his room. Back to the couch. Up again a bit later.. back again.. with the third pair of pants in 30 mins. Nothing unusual, in many ways he’s a bit of a teenage girl with how often he changes his clothes. But.. why are my thumbs pricking?
“L, darling, why are you changing your clothes? And you’ve missed a spot in the corner, that sonata is pure genius however, sweetie.”
“because… pants are clean now”.
“ok”
SUDDEN REALISATION. They weren’t clean before??!! Oh NO!
And oh YES. I guess the game, sorry, sonata and alphabet combination was too fascinating, and he’d decided he didn’t have to leave the room to go to the toilet, there was a perfectly good couch for that. Luckily, just numbers 1’s. I shudder to think of the other potential disasters, and how often I’ve had to deal with that!
So, back to being a bit more vigilant for a bit, until he’s back on track I guess. I just love that sudden ‘psychic parent’ feeling that occurs when you realise that something is wrong, but not what… and you also know that no matter what, it’s going to be disgusting. Love my boys so much, and they sure keep me on my toes!
(images from http://www.healthylivingcare.net/how-to-print-a-genius-child/, http://www.yummymummyclub.ca/family/kids/how-to-be-a-psychic-mom and http://mbamommy.wordpress.com/tag/multi-tasking/, thanks!)
Mint plants to deter houseflies. Really?!
I don’t know if anyone else read it, but there were quite a few websites this summer recommending indoor mint plants to deter houseflies. Now, I hate flies. I get a lot of them. I’m sure it’s not just because my housekeeping skills sometimes leave something to be desired, and at other times are completely non-existant. Ahem.
S0, yay! Bring in mint plants, and no flies will be a-flying? I was VERY keen. So, off to my kindly green-fingered neighbour (hi N! *waves*) to procure a few mint plants from her thriving garden. Now, a picture is worth a thousand words, so here is a photo of a mint plant. In my kitchen.
Please note the fly on the leaf. Watson, I think we can conclude that the mint plant theory doesn’t work. Sigh. Better go get cleaning up, then. On a side note – what DOES work for me to get rid of the flies? Those electric racquet fly swat things. They are really good! I always smack the flies midair (don’t hit anything solid with the bat, they’re fragile!) and then drop them onto the ground and step on them – sometimes the electricity just stuns them, and I’m all about the quick kill if something has to be killed. And do not try for blowflies – they are too big, and they fry, and that’s just horrendous 😦  Mitre 10 in NZ is about the only place I’ve seen those fly swats.
Have a lovely pest free day!