All mothers have to be project managers, but never more so than with adopted children. There are so many potential minefields. We have made it to Christmas morning. The ex-battery hens, rescued from the churchyard where they had survived in the wild for some weeks, came in to inspect the Christmas tree. Ok, one did poo on the carpet, but who cares! Billy thought he would try to stay awake all day on Christmas Eve, having been awake all the previous night as well. He requested an energy drink when I went to do some last minute shopping. By 4pm he was fast asleep and Jo, who had made a bed on the floor next to him, had consumed the energy drink, so was high as a kite. Billy woke briefly about 8pm and they both requested a melatonin capsule to help them sleep. No bust-ups, all reasonably quiet. They were dozing rather than asleep when I did my Mummy Christmas bit with stockings on the end of their beds at 1am after the Midnight Mass Christmas service. I knew to expect rustling sounds while I lay in the bath. They made it through till about 6am when loud footsteps signalled a trip downstairs to see what was under the tree. They knew exactly what they would find as the gifts had been requested and Jo had helped me wrap them and put them under the tree (XBox Ones, identical to avoid squabbles if at all possible). Billy had wanted to have his left in his room but I objected that I didn’t want him gaming all night, then be too tired to go to my Sister-in-Law and family Christmas Day. He accepted this, and they made it to 6am before setting them up. Peace is still the order of the day at 9.30am. Tony thought that Billy might refuse to leave the house today, and that Jo wouldn’t want to go without him, but there are no signs of that so far. They do have a history of refusal and have spent many family occasions, as well as Jo’s last school carol service, and a family walk in the summer, sitting in the car. Where possible we make minimum fuss and just leave them to it as they are too big to compel to do anything and bribes and threats generally fail. But so far so good. We anticipate a family outing shortly. So I wish all you adoptive families out there (and the rest of my readers) a very peaceful Christmas.
Chickens in the house? I love my chickens too, but not enough to overlook the potential risks of exposing my family to disease. No laughing matter… chickens are NOT house pets. It’s vital to keep a ‘clean area’ between where your chickens are housed and where you live or you are just asking for trouble.
Well, they don’t actually live in the house, but these two are very nosey and will come in if given a chance. The only other breeds I’ve had who liked to come inside were Light and White Sussex. The others are happy to look decorative in the garden. We look after a dog who will chase them so usually have to keep chickens the other side of an electric fence at the bottom of the garden, but when the dogs are shut in they get the whole garden for a while. I keep them off the back lawn in summer when the children play outside. We used to have peafowl and they would come inside if they could. I caught one peahen trying to squeeze in a upstairs window, perched on the window sill. They were much better flyers than the chickens.
Just a friendly reminder to be safe. Hundreds of flock owners fell sick to Salmonella poisoning in 2014… 33% were hospitalized. Take care 🙂
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