During the week our washer/dryer decided to throw in the towel with a definite life ending thud. That electrickery burning smell gave me an idea their might be no way back for the trusty Servis appliance. So we had visited Comet, I fooled around with Alfie, and Tash bought a new washing machine. Delivery date – Saturday.
The week before I had had a chat with the guy next door who let me know our adjoining fence was going to be replaced. It was far from upright and so I was pleased at the news! With me working on getting the garden looking nice, this was a definite bonus and one that wont cost me a dime! Work to be done on – Saturday.
Now you may be wondering what the problem is with having a fence replaced and a washing machine delivered on the same day, but by 8:30am it was very clear to us how much of an issue it might all become!
The ‘fence man’ arrived at 8:30am, and caught my eye in next doors garden. I went out to see him, and it became clear that he was going to take down the existing fence as far as the chicken run … leaving them homeless. He also pointed out he wasn’t going to finish it till the next day … meaning we needed to sort out overnight accommodation for the three birds.
We decided to box them in outside the back door, much to Harry’s enormous excitement. Tash did a tremendous job at grabbing birds, and I attempted to multi-task and open gates whilst somehow keeping the hens in their new enclosure until they were all safely there together. We got there though, and once the hen house was next to the log shed it looked like it would do for a night.
Then we realised the problems we now faced. When the washing machine arrived it could no longer come in through the back door as planned, and added to that we now couldn’t throw the dogs into the garden to keep them out of the way! And at that point the phone rang, it was Mr Comet to let us know he’d be 20 minutes. And so we legged it into the lounge to try and clear space to squeeze a washing machine through the length of the house and into position. Knowing what could potentially be coming, the delivery men promptly arrived and I disappeared out through the front door to walk the dogs and get them out of the way. Thankfully by the time I returned the washing machine was nearly in place, and a small level of normality returned.
To be fair to the fence man, he got enough done to have the fence panelled up to the end of the chicken run by 3pm so we could put the hens back into their usual home before night. If he didn’t have a fag every 10 minutes he could probably have done the lot, but I wasn’t paying him so what did I care. And then the real fun began. Harry was sat by the back door, and I doubt it will shock you when I say he had been sat there literally all day. However, at this point, I think he saw what was going to happen. And for about the next 5 minutes I laughed SO HARD! I imagine the noise can only be compared to what might have happen if you trapped 50 chickens in a bottle bank and posted a fox in. Tash chased chickens, chickens got scared, chickens ran/flapped/jumped towards the house and hit the back door, Harry chased chickens up the pane of glass with teeth bared, chickens got scared, chickens ran the other way and ploughed through our collection of empty bottles (about six months worth), chickens got scared, Tash chased chickens …. and so the cycle continued.
Eventually the hens were caught, their house moved back next to the newly erected fence, and you would never know what had gone on over the previous 7 hours.
However my day was not yet done. Potentially seeking revenge for my earlier hysterics, Tash then let it be known she was far from impressed at our vast collection of bottles (now thrown into a very ad-hoc, ‘modern art’ style glazed decking area) and so it was my duty to fill FOUR bin bags full and cart them off to the recycle point. Ho-hum.