Shark Attack!

Okay, not a shark attack. But almost as bad: a fox attack.

We're down a few chickens.

Here's the play by play. If the chicken thing bores you, scroll down for fiber-related blogging and other stuff. The other day, I procured some fertile eggs for broody Portia. I put them in the recently used dog crate with some pine shavings and moved her and a few of her 11(!) eggs into it and she freaked out. She wouldn't sit back down and was practically jumping on the eggs so I let her out. She ran around and ate and drank and hung with the other chickens for over an hour. I figured she had snapped out of her broodiness, which can happen.

Then I heard her doing the mommy-cluck that I've only ever heard from Georgia Rae before. She went back to the crate but wouldn't go in and seemed to be looking for her eggs in the nest she had been sitting on just a few feet away. After an hour of watching her being totally agitated, I took one of her eggs and put in the old nest spot. She let out a squawk, sat down, and pushed the egg under herself with her beak, clucking away. I waited until dark and then moved her and the egg into the crate with the other eggs so she'd be safe in case of a fox attack. Yeah. Well.

I went to bed and around 11 woke with a start. I must have heard a commotion or something from outside because I remembered suddenly that I had forgotten to shut the little chicken door on the coop. I went out with a flashlight and sure enough, in the field behind the coop, two eyes stared back at me. Fox. It hopped a little ways away. And there on the ground by the coop lay Violet (the white Araucana chick I got this spring), half-dead and panting.

I ran and got my husband. I'm a sissy.

He picked Violet up (no blood) and laid her in the coop and we did a quick head count. Jin Hui (the other Araucana) and Helen (you know Helen) were both missing from the coop. I checked the dog crate. The door was wide open and Portia was gone.

The fox wouldn't leave. Finally, my husband grabbed the nearest weapon, a BB gun, and popped a cap in that fox's butt, which was enough to startle it and make it run away.

Next morning, Helen came running up to me, from who knows where, in fine form. I believe at her previous home she survived several fox attacks. The girl is clever. (But boy did she not want to go back in that coop the next night....) Violet died during the night. The other two have not shown up yet and probably won't. However, it's not unusual for chickens to hide for days after an attack like that. I don't know how the dog crate door got open, but it is only plastic. I feel terrible for making Portia a sitting duck in that thing, and I'll never know whether she would have survived if I'd left her nesting on the ground. At least then she could have run away.

Anyway. This is how it is with chickens and we fully expected this to happen sooner rather than later. I shouldn't have forgotten the coop door, but it's no different than what would have happened if we'd been out late that night. We'd hate to have to keep the chickens fenced in all the time, so we're weighing the risk of freedom with the safety of being cooped up. We'll see what happens from here. I'm bummed that the two Araucana babies are gone (no blue eggs for us!) and I feel terrible that Portia didn't get her shot at motherhood.

Still, life goes on. I got these two pictures from the garden yesterday:

The heat wave is over and there is sweet corn:

Can you see how perfect these kernels are? They're the kind that pop off the cob when you bite into it. I ate this corn plain instead with my usual butter, salt, and lots of pepper. Yum.

And in fiber news, I'm turning the heel on one of my socks. I'm going with a garter stitch short-row heel that I found at Inknitters. So far, so good.

But now I've got Margene's D/S/KAL on the brain. I started looking into good drop spindles and realized that (a) they're expensive and (b) I may have to custom order one, which takes time. I also realized that I am not an accomplished spindler. I learned after I was already spinning on the wheel, and I only learned because of the Twisted Sisters book (how appropriate). I've never actually spun any quantity of yarn with a spindle.

But I was antsy for some spindling. There was nothing else to do but make another drop spindle to replace the cheapy that I made a few years ago. Behold 1.8 oz. of not-fine-craftsmanship:

Only problem is I haven't moved any fiber to the new house yet, so I pulled off a small chunk of the mohair/wool I bought the other day and am going to dye it up in my next yarn batch. I need to practice, people.

And last, a romantic story that illustrates a point I make all the time ("Men. Sheesh."). Last night was my husband's 25th high-school reunion, right here in our town. He had mentioned to me the other day that there was a dress in a downtown shop window that he thought would look nice on me. I asked him to buy it for the reunion and he told me I should go buy it. I drove by the store and the dress was gone from the window. Since I had never seen it, I couldn't really go pick it out myself, so I forgot all about it.

Then Friday night, I was getting ready to go to a play with some friends when my daughter brought two gift-wrapped boxes to me. Aww. I opened them up and found, not the dress, but a lovely white top in one and a pretty brown prairie-type skirt in the other. My husband came in to see my reaction, which was of joy. Until I saw the label on the skirt. Which said 4.

I am a 10 these days. Sometimes an 8.

When I mentioned this, he said, "I know, but It's the only one they had left."

Do you see the logic here? Then he said, "Well, I told the girl you were an 8 or a 10 and she said she was a 6 and the 4 fit her so maybe it would fit you." Okay.

I returned it and find a similar skirt at a different store yesterday afternoon. Romantic yes. But my point stands: Men. Sheesh.

ETA: Speaking of men, my 17-year-old stepson saw me blogging the other day and asked what a blog was. As some of you may have experienced, it always sounds a bit dorky to explain a blog to non-bloggers. I did my best and he listened politely. Finally he said, "Oh, I get it. It's like MySpace for old people."

Men. Sheesh.

Comments

[Kristen]

How very sad about the chickens. It is a treat to read about your chickens, so it was startling to read today's episode. I'm so sorry. Aaaw, nice try by your husband. At least he didn't bring you clothes that were larger than your size!

[Donna]

How sad :(
I'd be a sissy, too. Nasty fox.
The corn looks scrumptious!

[Claudia]

Ohhhhhhh! I feel so sad about your chickens! I guess you're right, it happens, and life does go on but still. I am glad Helen is alright (I'm a fan! :-)

[Norma]

LOL. MySpace for Old People. YES!!! He's got it!!! My daughter said she put something on "my wall" the other day, which translates to "I left you a comment." for Old People. Hee.

So sorry to hear about your chickens. Nature is cruel.

[Jane]

That's a sad tale, but yes, it happens. I appreciate the way you think, and how you wrote about it.

"MySpace for old people" makes me smile!

[pippi]

aww!
i'm so sorry!!!

[Katy]

Sorry about the chickens.
But the "MYspace for old people" quote is perfect!

[heather]

Oh Jessie, I'm so bummed about your chickens. That really, really sucks. I was getting so attached to them the way you write about them all the time. I am happy that Helen is okay, she's my favorite.
I'm glad your corn was so delicious! It looks beautiful. I bought some the other day that looked like that, but it was the most disgusting corn I'd ever eaten. It tasted like wax or something.
Enjoy your spindling, and good luck. I really like to do it, but I totally suck. :)

Sorry about your presents not fitting, that was sweet though! They need to learn about gift certificates, eh? heh.

[trek]

Man, so sorry about the poultry!

And the sizing thing - egad!

[Carrie]

LMFAO@ the men stories. Oh dear. They try, don't they?
I am sorry about the fox. It's hard to blame him, he's doing what he's supposed to do, but the poor chickens... I'm glad to know Helen came back, and maybe one or the other will come back as well. I'm sorry about Violet.

[jillian]

So sorry about the chickens. But it is, of course, the way of the natural world.

Yummy corn!

I hope you ended up with a skirt you liked! Good try, though!

[Jane]

Aww, poor chicks. I'm so happy to see that Helen was able to hide, and hopefully the missing will show up and that Portia will get a chance at motherhood. We see foxes frequently when we go up to our property in the NC mountains. One evening there were three little ones playing tag along a row of bailed hay - the whole scene bathed in the glow of the setting sun. A very pretty picture. I don't like to think of them eating someone's chickens, though. Your photos are beautiful - my mouth started watering when I saw the corn!

[Donna K.]

Those darn foxes...what's a chicken to do? Hopefully they are all safe and still in hiding. "My Space" for old people - don't you just love teenagers!

[Helen]

I'm so sorry to hear about Violet -- and Portia ...
Here's hoping that Helen wasn't the only one to escape into hiding.
Pesky foxes.
Meanwhile, I'd managed to wholly miss the Lucy Neatby garter heel despite subscribing to INKnitters... must start new socks.
Hmm... have some Vermont Yarn just lurking waiting to be tried... ya think that might work? ;-)

[stephanie]

Man I'm so bummed about the chickens!

That's beautiful corn. The last grocery store corn we had - everyone took one bite and threw the rest away. It was so tasteless and gummy - yuck!

[Sherri]

I'm so sorry for your loss. I enjoy reading about your chickens almost as much as your yarn!

Will think happy thought for them and hope they come home safe.

[Lee Ann]

One of the very few good things about being a near-midget is that my husband knows which size to ask for. The littlest one ya got. Except...Men. Geesh. He hates to shop, so he's never bought me clothing. Ever.

Really sorry about the chickens. I don't know how you do it. I can't even bear to have an outdoor cat.

[Cindy]

Damn. I hate your loss and I am very attached to your chickens. Yes, I am strange. Your spider looks like my Barbara! Barbara has actually lengthened quite a bit. Lovely spider. We are nearing the end of corn season here. Enjoy!!! Ours has been spectacular. And, I guess that old saying is right. When your husband bought the outfit....size didn't matter:)

[Manise]

I am so sorry for the loss of both Araucana chicks and fluffy-headed Portia too! I guess it was inevitable. Portia would have been eaten sitting on her nest in the wild for sure so don't be so hard on yourself. It would be pretty to dye some yarn in Araucana egg blue in the wool/mohair as well as some sock yarn in Portia's feather colors as a tribute to them. I'd buy it. I think you're right about Helen- she became very fox-wise and is a true survivor.

Lovely spider- her web reminds me of scribble lace.

[Scout]

Haaaa! About the sizes and the blog!

[stephanie]

Uh! My Space! For Old People!

Okay, alright. But I'm not admitting to anything!

[lynne s of Oz]

Your poor chooks! So sad! If we get chooks then they will have to be in a chook tractor cos Melbourne has a huge fox population (not native but were brought here for fox hunting). We've seen foxes during the day and not just ones squashed on the road....
DH never buys me anything but half the time his presents are umm well inventive.
I'm doing the sock spindling - I've got The Book and superwash roving sent to me by the Book Writer Herself. Have you tried toy wheels on dowel? They work well.
Mmmm, corn....

[JessaLu]

ohno! I'm so sorry, Jessie :o( That's very sad..though the though of using a bb gun to 'pop a cap' into someone's ass...okay that made me laugh. hehehe

And, MySpace for old people?!? Uhm HELLO there are lots of younger (like 18) knit bloggers out there. Hit him with something for me, k?

Maybe you could use the bb gun...

;o)

[Diane E.]

Oh, hope the gals make it. You sure know how to take a reader from one extreem to the other. Laugh out loud with the store clerk and hubby exchange! Have a great version of corn on the cob fro you...

[Laura]

1. My kids said the SAME EXACT THING about my blog. They each (2 older ones) have a MySpace and think they're so darn cool.

2. Oh the fox. I'm so sorry. My sister's first pair of ducks went that way. Awful story. They didn't have a pen built yet when they got this little pair of ducks. They named them Chester and Caroline (crested pekins I think?). The first night they put C and C in a little fortress they (mom and dad) made from bales of hay with plywood on top and another hay bale on top of that. Inpenetrable, right? Sure. Foxes can obviously open the door to your dog crate somehow. They woke up the next morning, went out to open the fortress and found two pair of duck feet. And some feathers. My sister was so devastated.

They built a pen before getting the next pair. And of course they've never been able to re-use the names Chester and Caroline.

I'm glad to hear Helen is okay. :)

[Laura]

P.S. I'm gonna do Margene's DS sock knitalong! :)

[Tina]

Too bad about the chickens. Let's hope this was the only attack in a long time now. You probably scared that fox good!

Funny to hear about your husband. I think it's quite endearing how they try and never quite get it....:)

[Kelly]

So sorry to hear about your chickens. I'm glad that Helen made it through ok.

[Laura]

i am so sorry to hear about the chickens you lost. but i have to say, i raced through reading that post to make sure helen was ok. i don't know. i have a thing about helen. if she had been lost, i'd have been crushed.

now that i know she outfoxed (haha) her attacker, i *really* think she's all that.

[Dorothy B]

Well, he tried to get you something pretty that's not a bad start.

Myspace for old people, huh. I seem to recall saying stupid stuff like that when I was a young whipper-snapper.

Too bad about the chickens. I hope the two of them come back. From the way the fox was hanging around though, I'd say he didn't get them. He would have just grabbed one and ran once he finished killing it. Usually anyway.

You need a foxhound or a good sized terrier. That would fix the fox problem and if you got the dog as a pup and raised him with the chickens, he/she shouldn't chase them.

[Christina in Washington]

Oh no! I'm so sorry to hear about the chicken attack.

(I have to admit, there was a "not Helen!" when I read about it. My dog came running in to see who I was talking to.)

[Libby]

OK, I'm totally sitting here at my desk bawling my eyes out the loss of your chickens. I'm sorry to hear about your girls.

[nasheikah]

"Oh, I get it. It's like MySpace for old people."

too Funny

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