Carry A Big Stick

The routine has been to fill the waterers for the chickens in the morning.  That does not work in this weather.  Even with wrapped pipes (so far, so good), the faucets are frozen and nothing comes out until well after sunup.  There was a good inch of ice in the goat trough yesterday and there I was with no way to break it.  With a vague memory of having seen something suitable, I headed back to No-Man's Land, the barn.  Now that I think of it, No-Man's Land isn't quite right; more likely it is No-Girls-Allowed Land.  It was set up by a man and only men seem to be able to find whatever it is they're looking for, probably because they know what they're looking for.  They know instinctively where a guy would put the wire twister pliers, while I go poking around for that swirly-twirly thingy to connect the chicken wire.  Hoping not to encounter Thing and ignoring his latest destruction, in a back corner under a pile of unidentified guy stuff, I found a bundle of what I think are construction stakes.  At any rate, they were the right size to bash the ice in the trough so the girls could get a drink.  They would probably prefer hot cocoa, but there's a limit to my services.  I will, however, take a small container with warm water out to the Silkies this morning.  I found them sucking on ice cubes last evening because their waterer never did thaw.  I quickly got them some fresh water and gave them time to hydrate before tucking them in for the night.

I have relatives in New Hampshire, Maine, and Pennsylvania who must be laughing up their sleeves at this California whiner, given what their weather must be.  They would probably think that 24 degrees is a shirt-sleeve day.  Goody for them.  It's all relative, my relatives, and I think it's cold!  Today appears to be a repeat of yesterday, and I left the big stick by the water trough.