Cold Weather

 Last week - 80s. Today 60s with a low in the 40s overnight. 

I just came inside from tucking the animals in for the night. The goats are usually outside all summer with just a run-in shelter for cover from the rain. Given that it'll be cold with heavy rain overnight, I decided to open back up their winter pen. One of the goats had apparently decided to eat her way to warmth and she was so unbelievably fat that it took her three heaves to wedge herself through the doorway. I refrained from laughing at her. Because even goats know when they're being laughed at.

It was a half hour event in chicken wrangling to get the mama hen and her tiny chicks back into their shelter. I had to move the crate and then prop up her little house on something waterproof and add fresh bedding so they'd stay dry through the night even when it rained. All of this action invited the teenage brood to come investigate and once they saw the free food they wouldn't leave. Wrangling the mama hen and her brood back in while keeping them out was ridiculous. Doesn't help that the mama hen hates me and keeps running away every time I approach to shut up her crate. I finally had to drop the side trapping her and 5 chicks in but 2 were out. She got frantic and called hysterically, bringing them back so that when I lifted the edge an inch they could come back in (this was my 3rd attempt and she would wedge herself out if I lifted it any more--she's a bantam and tiny). But, this kind of thing was exactly why she hates me. Also because I do mean things like reach into her pen and remove the food bowl and then replace it. How dare it endanger her chicks by reaching into her space. I must be evil.

After she was in I added two tarps on top and weighted them down with bricks and then wedged trash cans and coolers around the perimeter to keep the flaps down and prevent any drafts. At first this chaos stressed her out and I could hear frantic clucking but as it got darker I heard her give the "come here" cluck and I could tell that she was on the nice dry nest settling her chicks underneath her. By the time I placed the last brick it was silent underneath.

There's something nice about tucking in animals before a storm. You know they'll be grateful around midnight when it's pitch dark and the icy rain is bucketing down but they're warm and cozy snuggled into their beds.

You know it's for the best even when the cantankerous ones scold and fuss at you. 

I was thinking about this when reflecting on a couple interactions with Jane lately. Recently she confessed that she does the baby voice thing when she's angry. Usually become somebody else got something and she believes she's missing out. 

This afternoon she started it and I really yelled at her. I mean, really, really sternly. Just a full throated stop-bullshitting-me response to her nonsense. And she stopped! Then she was angry back at me. She spoke up, full volume, and let me know it. Finally! I came right back and praised her. Said this honest, clear, adamant way of speaking was what I always expected of her and she could do it every time. 

I think the reason her baby talking has always bothered me is because, instinctively, I've always known it's an act. No, she isn't feeling needy or needing comfort. I do see her initiate comfort in other ways and it feels genuine and I can always respond positively. This baby talking thing is pure brattiness. She's feeling pissed so she acts in a pissy way that she knows will annoy us. And it needs to be shut down. Forcefully. 

I'm going to ignore all her fussing just like I ignore that clucking hen. Sometimes you know what's best even when they are fighting you ever step of the way. This is parenting.