I've had it with this "chickens will be noisy", "chickens will attract rats", "chickens will be messy" talk. Dave doesn't want chickens but I've wanted chickens for a very long time. I've dreamed of having fresh eggs for the family and fresh compost for my garden. I've researched varieties and the proper care of chickens. I've got the perfect spot in my back yard for chickens. And, I've fully planned and prepared for the insurrection.
The seeds of rebellion were planted this summer when my friends' son accidentally forgot to collect some of her fertilized eggs and they ended up with a small brood of baby chicks. "You still interested in chickens?" she asked "I've got a whole bunch that'll be ready in a few months." A few months is all I needed.
I dropped a few hints along the way: asked for a chicken coop for my birthday--didn't get it of course; had the boys clear out the firewood and weeds behind the shed--the perfect spot for a chicken coop; openly talked in front of the kids about the chickens with my friend--the kids of course started talking about the chickens in front of Dave. He knows what's coming. He may not want to admit it but he knows my capacities, my achievements and my patient and unwavering dedication to getting those things I really want.
He knows but I don't think he realizes how close the front lines have moved. The chicken coup is at his front door (actually garage). The penultimate maneuver in the chicken insertion plan was set into motion yesterday when the girls and I initiated our covert operations at Lowe's and picked up the necessary lumber supplies. Kirkham and I quickly and precisely cut all pieces to size and secretely stashed our stock.
Today I build the coop! Stay tuned for more information on the inevitable Dooley family chicken coup.