It’s been a lo-o-o-ng winter here in Portland, Maine. Now nearly March, snow tickles the windowsills and blackens the streets. People warned us of the ugliness of this time when we moved here five years ago. They urged us to look inward, to remember that spring is on its way, to ignore the permafrost on every surface in this salt-lick of a city. But in truth, the snow itself, the mountainous banks lining every parking lot, even soot-gray, are a novelty.
Aren’t friends great? I mean aside from good company, they’re always there to remind you of stuff. Like, last weekend, friends stopped by and in the course of chatting mentioned how much they like our back deck. I was flattered, of course, but it also prompted me to remember. I never posted about the finished project!
When I last left off, our deck had flooring and not much else.
A month ago I introduced you to the adorable fluff balls known as Fred, Cuddles and the rest of the girls. AKA, our baby chicks. In just 4 weeks these formerly tiny chicks have morphed into big birds with fully functional wings. And once chicks start flying around the living room, it’s time they move outside.
My husband & I had to build a coop, and fast. But having never owned chickens before, let alone built a coop, we needed to do a little research before starting construction. We read a few books and found a photo of a coop we really liked. A quick Google search turned up plans for the “Playhouse Coop” shown below.
Last week was Vacation Week here in Maine, known elsewhere as Spring Break. Some people travel, others enjoy local sites. But we opted for something else altogether. A “staycation” Dole House Style.
So strap on that respirator — Ain’t no party like a DOLE HOUSE PAR-TAY!
SO. This past weekend when I should have been walking in Automattic’s Worldwide WP 5K, I was engaged in another form of exercise instead. Significantly less scenic, exceedingly expensive and 100% NOT FUN.
Saturday afternoon my husband fell through a hole on our back deck. I did not photograph my husband in the hole, opting instead to help him out. But here’s the aftermath. (He’s okay by the way.)
