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The Long Journey of Mr. Thomas a Beckett, Esq.

Yesterday Daniel and I met up with Christine and delivered Mr. Thomas a Beckett into her capable care for a long journey north. We’d found a home for him with a pair of devoted owners up in Massachusetts and Christine was headed in that general direction, so off our marvelous orange tom went, packing along food, water, his favorite toys, a litter box for his carrier, and his favorite bed.

He apparently slept most of the way up, and around 2000 Christine delivered him to his next ride, who had him for a couple hours before passing him to K and G, who delivered him to his new home. K reports that he is taking to his new people already, which is good news. Mr. Beckett was SUCH a laid-back and personable guy, if sort of spiky when overwhelmed by the amazingness of being petted. Here’s hoping he settles in up there in Yankeeland!

Much gratitude to the people who got him there despite the wreckage of a very early snowstorm; people braved tree-strewn snowy roads and homes without power to get Mr. Beckett from Virginia to Massachusetts.

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Deathplague continues, eggs go into lockdown, etc etc.

Stayed home yesterday as a result of whatever Deathplague it is that has filled my sinuses with concrete. The good news is that after a day of mostly remaining motionless in my recliner taking drugs, I am starting to feel like a human being again. I have not managed to lose my voice, probably because Daniel has been bringing me tea on-demand. Chai, with honey and milk. It is so good. He also got me a dinosaur play set today when he went out to get me more drugs! So I have had dinosaurs to play with while languishing in my chair. I think he is the Best Husband Ever, really. Today is his birthday, and he’s been living here for over 13 months now and I have not tried to kill him even once. This is how you can tell he is a pretty stellar person. He has put up with chickens, feral cats in the bathroom, being the Vet Trip Chauffeur, puking dogs, screaming cats, baby chickens in the house, that time I accidentally kidnapped Pawpower, earthquakes (well OK, only one), apocalyptic storms involving either snow or rain or both, and me looking all wild-eyed and trying to make a case for a mini-cow, and yet has not tried to kill or divorce me even a little bit. Definitely the Best Husband Ever.

Twelve of the original 24 eggs in the incubator went into lockdown. Three of the four of my eggs that were in there did not develop. One I wasn’t expecting to but the others were from the Modern Game Bantams. I shall have a pep talk with Kemuel, the rooster, about doing his duty and fertilizing the eggs. The remaining egg is from the porcelain silkies. The eggs left in the incubator and probably going to hatch starting sometime on Friday are blacks, blues/splashes, lavenders/lav splits, porcelains/porc splits, and one lone partridge egg. All of them are from silkies, so this will add several adorable balls of floof to the Manor, at least until I figure out who I’m keeping and who I’m selling off.

Meanwhile, we’re pretty sure we have Mr. Beckett’s transportation situation figured out, which means he will go off to his new home next week. It’s always such a bitter-sweet time when one of the former ferals heads off to a new home. Sweet, because we are at the limit for cats we can really care for well; bitter, because we can’t help but love them while they’re in our care. Still, while we won’t be glad to see him go, we’re definitely happy that he’ll have people who can give him more attention than he can get here. He’s turned out to be a very interactive kind of cat who loves to snuggle.

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For a more substantive update…

Although I happen to think my struggle to get Daniel on board with my desire for a mini-cow is quite substantive, thank you.

Christine came up on Saturday and we all went to Home Depot and bought a metric crap-ton of lumber and also nails and roofing panels and another hammer and another ladder. Then we all came back here and put a roof on Bantytown which is quite nice if I do say so myself, and entailed very little blood, sweat, or tears thanks to Christine’s ability to engineer a roof on the fly. Then we got the exterior framing up for the Bantytown Suburb that will be divided into three four foot by eight foot breeding pens, which is quite roomy for a little breeding group of bantam chickens. Merlin and four of his ladies will get one, Remiel and Kefziel the little black bantams will get one, and then the last is reserved for lavender silkies although I may stick Belphegor, who is probably a rooster, and a couple hens in it for the nonce as it will be a while before the lavs are old enough for me to even know what gender they are, let alone breed.

Daniel and I might have managed to finish the framing yesterday and made at least a start on the wire walls, but I either have the world’s most miserable head cold plus body aches from overdoing yesterday (although I was really mostly useless yesterday except for fetching water and pointing majestically at things) or I have DEATHFLU with completely blocked sinuses and body aches. Oh, and I’m losing my voice, which is why I’m really sad that Daniel and I weren’t able to take our American Sign Language class this semester.[1] I must brush up on my ASL vocabulary that I’ve been working on via Lifeprint and then Daniel can just learn it on the fly. He’ll be delighted, I’m sure.

The twenty-one eggs in the incubator go on lockdown on Wednesday, at which point I will give them all one last candling and get rid of any that are not about to hatch, in order to give the hatching chicks a little more room. Then on Friday, Hatchapalooza Three will start — I’m sure I will cover it on Twitter as usual! And then on Sunday, I will sanitize the incubator and start collecting eggs from my porcelain silkies, as well as my Modern Game Bantams, for round two!

Still need someone between Ruby, NY and Boston, MA to give Mr. Thomas a Beckett a ride to his new home on the 27th of this month. Anybody?

[1] The earthquake at the end of August severely damaged the local community college, and as a result our class went from being 1730-1900 twice a week to 1800-2100 once a week, which is just not doable when I need to go to bed at 2000 in order to get up at 0400.[2]

[2] I know, I still use military time. Subtract 1200 from all numbers big enough for you to do it without zeroing out.