Now the disaster could be that I woke up at 5.30am on Boxing Day... I think it was because I rolled over and the dog had his paws up on the bed staring at me!! Talk about telepathy.
So I dragged myself out of bed and took the dog for a walk. It was cyclone windy, so as to avoid a repeat of the great chook escape of a week earlier I thought I'd better check their gate... it was fine because I'd put a plank of wood in place to hold it up.
I rushed inside to tell my husband (who from now on I am going to name), Ryan, who was now being snuggled by our daughter, Chynna. He told me off for being too noisy coming inside. I said, "what would be the worst thing that could happen today?" (Given that we had the big annual family bash at my parents house this year it was a pretty major event). He thought for a moment, probably pondering the wind, and said the back green colourbond fence has fallen down, as it used to prior to being properly fixed at the beginning of the year. I managed to get out, that's not the worst thing and I started to laugh manically until I was crying, as I did throughout the day when I thought about the fence, all 20 metres of it lying flattened on the ground with all the bricks smashed out of their columns. I suggested that he'd better get up and come and check out the park part of our boundary fence.
Chynna and I rushed to the fence with Humphrey still on the lead to stop explorer, Bossy chook from leading her flock out onto the park.
About 10 minutes later Ryan arrived and was dumbfounded. He shook his head and said aloud what I had been thinking - shoddy, crappy, bullshit house, lets just move... back to Maylands.
First things first, Ryan had to remove the fence off the park because we wouldn't want any kids to hurt themselves. Then we had to round up all the chooks to the side of the house, until we decided what to do with them. This would have been hilarious to observe... 12 chooks, one little gate opening and two lumbering adults, one of who has a phobia of anything big and feathered.
Some of the chooks obediently played along and went up the stairs through the gateway to the side of the house, perhaps 3 needed chasing with flying leaps to grab them (Sorry Darling, my favourite chook, for pulling out your feathers) and the other 3, we ended up herding into their house and cornering. After that we had breakfast and came up with a plan.
We only know 2 other people with chooks, one lives an hour away, has foxes and thank god wasn't answering her phone. The 2nd option was 15 minutes away and they were home. Next we had to decide how to transport them. Ryan said in boxes on the trailer.... I said, chooks are people too RY-AN - they have feelings and it's not humane to have them tossed around on the trailer. I said, call my dad, he'll tell you. So Ryan did and I ended up with the majority vote. Ryan went and collected the ute, which would provide a bit of protection behind the cab.
I think we were surprised when the chooks were just as hard to catch from a small space as they were from their paddock! Five little beggars ended up dodging Ryan and back where they began, so we had to chase them all over again!
Soon enough they were all boxed up and on their way to the temporary home we organised for them. So the events of the morning didn't interfere too much with the big lunchtime family catch up - other than a few scraped knuckles, a shat on shirt (oh no wait, I changed that) and hysterical laughter! Ryan chose to drown his sorrows... at least he is no longer scared of chooks, I am doubtful about swans though.
Mr C had a meeting with the left side of my stomach today. I injected myself and gave it no more energy or thought than was required - yay me! No big welt, just a little mosquito bite accompanied by the usual sting.