As a knitter, I’ve learned that if I have a bad feeling about some aspect of what I’m knitting, I should go with that feeling. And I’ve learned that if something isn’t working, you just have to close your eyes and rip it back.

Turns out, carpentry is just the same. Who knew?

Among its many other flaws, the gambrel roof chicken tractor is designed such that twice a day (while moving from coop to pen, or pen to coop) the chickens can escape. My original schematic took this into account, and attached the pop door such that it could be unlocked and opened from outside. But when it came down to building it, that just wouldn’t work, so I fit it in as best I could, and kept building.

Unfortunately, thanks to the previously-mentioned design flaw, there was an “incident” Wednesday evening. Martha’s fine, although the back of her right thigh is bald. And one of the dogs is coughing up feathers. And I’m still a little traumatized.

The worst part, of course, is the self-inflicted I told you so‘s.

And so it is that Thursday morning I skipped out on work to make yet another trip to the hardware store. My enthusiasm for building the third chicken tractor in two months is… not high.

By the way, here’s something else I learned: 5mm plywood is not going to work. The gambrel roof has been outside for only 12 days. It has not been directly exposed to rain. And look at how badly it’s buckled!

I’m basing Chicken Tractor the Third on someone else’s design. I know! So unoriginal. I eat humble pie while poring over her photos and description.

The main difference between her design and mine is that I’m pulling the welded wire hardware cloth up to 4 feet, almost to the roofline of the coop. This is to prevent giant dogs from leaping up onto the top of the run and jumping up and down until it collapses. (This is a relevant concern for some of us.)

Also, the roll of hardware cloth I bought last month is 4 feet high. And anything that keeps me from having to cut the hardware cloth is my best friend of all time. (Making cuts wouldn’t be so bad if I had a pair of tin snips. Alas, I have only a borrowed bolt cutter which is literally longer than my arms. Fun times.)

I’ve built the first long side already:

I will be building the coop (of 1/2″ plywood this time) into the hole on the upper right. This way, see, the chickens can enter and exit through a door in the wall. Chickens like to do that! Chickens do not like to hop out through a hole in the floor. What kind of idiot would think otherwise? Ha ha! Ha.

Speaking of significant looks, they go both ways. I like to give the chickens a significant look, while casually mentioning that I’ve been saving egg cartons since last December.

No pressure, ladies. Just sayin’.

Tags: My Peeps

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First, two facts:

1. Harriet, my little red hen, is at the bottom of the pecking order.

2. I gather that standing up tall and flapping your wings is how you say “I am the boss,” if you are a chicken. (If you do this while Ethel is around, she will run over and peck you.)

On Saturday morning, I had shooed the other three chickens out of the coop and down into the run. Harriet was the last hold-out. I stepped back to let her settle down from the impending Broom Panic.

I watched as she looked around the coop carefully. She cocked her head this way and that, making triple-sure that she was the only chicken in the coop.

Then she stood up tall and flapped her wings.

That’s right, Harriet! When there are no other chickens around, you are the boss.

Speaking of the shooing. Infuratingly, they have always been happy to go UP the ramp. In fact I have to close the hatch during the day, or they’ll go up there, and get “stuck.”

I built them a floating platform, about 18 inches below the hatch. They drop onto that, and from there they can either flap down to the ground or hop over to the perch, then jump to the ground. I no longer have to physically pick them up and drop them through the hatch. But I do still have to shoo them out with the broom every morning.

As the sun begins to set, they huddle together on the floating platform. From there, they give me Significant Looks until I finally relent and open the hatch so that they can go back to the coop.

Tags: My Peeps

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Okay, innernet, do your thing! I’m looking for a copy of the June, 2002 edition of Tropical Fish Hobbyist. If you have one, please let me know! It has an article titled “Practical Advice for the Planted Aquarium,” which I believe I wrote. But I could be wrong.

(Sadly, you can’t back-order issues that old from their website. I have yet to find a library with seven years’ worth of TFH issues.)

Tags: Is my article in it?

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I decided to take Carrie K’s suggestion and start Puppy Wednesday. Another problem with blogging about five-week-old puppies is that they are very difficult to photograph. Even using the flash, I get nothing but puppy-shaped blurs.

The only time they hold still is when they are nomming on their dish of semi-solid food. Of course, it’s not the most scenic view.

At this age, they basically look like sacks of flour with feet and wagging tails. The spots only make it more difficult – in photos, it’s hard to tell where one puppy ends and another begins. (The black and white Newfoundlands are called Landseers.)

Video is easier. Here’s the Puppy Mosh Pit. Includes a cameo appearance by the Jingle Ball, which starred in last year’s breakaway hit video, Puppy Soccer.

Tags: MOAR PUPPIEZ

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Way back when, almost three years ago, I knit a garterlac dishcloth during a very turbulent time in my life. I had only been knitting for about a year, and the lease was up on my apartment 50 feet from the Interstate in downtown Seattle, and I had two weeks to find a place to live. I fell in love with the pattern, because I could knit just a wee little square or triangle, and feel like I was making progress on it.

This weekend I was in the mood for some dishcloth knitting, so I decided to revisit the pattern. With three more years of knitting experience under my belt, the pattern was a piece of cake. I understood what was going on, and I barely needed to glance at the instructions. The last time I knit this pattern, I had to follow the pattern line by line and count every stitch. I flew through it, patting myself on the back for all the progress I’ve made as a knitter.

You know where this is going, right?

I’m not actually sure what happened. At least once, I must have turned one too many times and started knitting in the wrong direction. I think I may also have put a square where a triangle should have been.

And so it is that I had to rip back a dishcloth. Sheesh!

Fortunately it worked out alright the second time. I was duly humbled.

Tags: Dishcloths, FO

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