Mr. Fuzzy and I got home from our respective trips within a couple hours of each other, ate a lovely pizza from our local Italian restaurant, Mickey G's, and promptly collapsed. The next evening our friends from Vermont arrived for a five day visit while Brian taught a weekend blacksmithing class at the Jacksonville Center. .... A class which both the Fuzzy's had signed up for and one had completely forgotten said factoid. That would have been me, Mrs. Fuzzy.
Laussanne and I got a little gardening done before the weekend (how can I ever begin to thank this wonderful woman????) and on Monday we ran off to hike the Buffalo, our local mountain. It was an all-girl affair... humans and dogs. This is Laussanne, her little dog and our foster girl, Lady, at the summit.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself. There was the weekend... which found your authors covered in soot and turning little rods of iron into very functional spoons. On day one Mr. Fuzzy made two spoons while remembering how to do things. I created scrap, learned that iron sparklers are not a "good thing," and all the truly basic basics of blacksmithing. On day two I made two spoons while Mr. Fuzzy made two more spoons and a fork. I am now trying to decide where to erect our soon-to-be-built forge. This was the most pleasurable craft I have ever tried and I'm chomping at the bit to do more! Thank you, Brian, for opening up a whole world of possibilities for me!
And then we were alone with a garden quite overgrown and 26 young chickens in way too small a space....
We have our work cut out for us trying to get the gardens under control but after a few good hours of work I got the chicken yard erected. The fence is a combination of U posts, reinforcing mesh, and poultry wire with a piece of scrap for the gate. It's so ugly it's pretty.... just like the coop! I'd never used a circular saw before, can't make an accurate measurement, and am no good at planning things out so this whole building venture seems like a minor miracle to have it all done.
We now have some very happy cluckers. When I put them away for the night I could hear them excitedly telling stories of their individual adventures, of the menacing cats, and that terrifying black dog that barked ever so loudly. No doubt they have moved on to discussing the finer points of catching ants and their glorious subjugation of those other two dogs.