Imagine if you will a conversation between myself and my Husband this morning that was vaguely as follows;
Me: “some of those pullets are going to be quite large when they get to Point of Lay so I might look at coops at the next Mart”
Husband: “Don’t panic dear, I have it all in hand, I am planning on building a really big coop so that there is only one coop for you to clean and all the girls can be in the same place together and snuggle up when it gets cold”
Me: (bemused expression) “Really? That sounds like a rather large undertaking darling……….”
The voice in my head is screaming “Noooo, you have clearly taken leave of your senses and lost any sense that you were born with. How have you forgotten the removal of the wardrobes from a house we were renovating which resulted in your knocking down a wall? Or that summer evening many years ago when very heavily pregnant with Flit I thought that it would be a bonding experience for us to attempt, together, to put up the coving in the dining room. It was only the miraculous powers of half a tub of filler and five coats of paint that disguised our ineptness. Oh how the neighbours must have laughed that evening. After many hours of lively discussion about the best way to mount said coving I opened our front door at the exact moment our lovely neighbours, who in all the five years we lived beside them never so much as whispered loudly at each other; arrived home from a pleasant evening out to be greeted by the sight of me throwing your car keys into the flower bed and peppering the night air with some agricultural language.
Or who could forget Curtain Pole Gate?” Upon finding out that our usual ‘man who can do all the things that Husband can’t’ was busy and we had a clutch of viewers lined up for the following day, Husband attempted to hang a curtain pole in our newly constructed and freshly decorated bedroom. After over an hour had passed with an amazing amount of drilling, I could contain myself no longer and so armed with a reviving cup of tea I went upstairs to check on his progress. The bed was festooned with a spirit level, a drill and a tool box and there were screws all over the floor. Husbands face said all was not going well. Then I looked at the curtain pole which was listing from side to side at such an angle it appeared we were actually in the middle of a force nine gale. If I had affixed the curtains to the pole they would have fallen off and formed a large puddle on the floor. In between howls of laughter from me I am ashamed to say, I managed to plead with our ‘usual man who can’ and happily he arrived the following morning just after 7am to perform life saving surgery on the curtain pole. None of the viewers that afternoon were any the wiser as to the previous days traumas. He may be many things but being handy around the house is most certainly not one of them.
So when Husband went out to get a copy of The Telegraph this morning I spoke to The Gaggle and informed them of their Father’s intentions to build a coop, Flit the oldest replied “I really don’t think it is a very wise plan”. Bean, started to shake her head and muttered “Oh dear no?” whilst Rhino carried on eating a Brioche with far too much jam in it, in a way only the young and carefree can manage during worrying times.
So how do I stop my husband from attempting this act of lunacy? I fear that if he starts building a coop it will take many months and probably cost more than if we commissioned Viscount Linley himself to make it. I am also acutely aware that very soon our garden would resemble a Saw Mill. So I have decide that the only possible courses of action open to me are to either hide his saw and tool box or to consider asking our electricity provider to cut us off……candles at bedtime and no television for a few months seems like a small price to pay to avoid the inevitable coop building project I think.