I thought I hated painting and trenching.......then came the chicken wire

I'm grumpy. Yup, that's right. Super Grumpy.
I had the day off today and figured since the weather is even more gorgeous than last week I would get a good day of work done on the coop. This morning was awesome. Nice Breeze. In keeping with the modern design of the coop I decided to paint it a dark grayish blue. The thing is, I hate painting. I will be the first to admit that I am an awful painter. I know I could be good at it if I didn't have the mentality of a slug when it came to spreading the color hue. By the time I'm done, it's everywhere. In my hair, on my legs, all over my clothes, Tate's nose. I don't know what it is but I have always found the dip dip, back and forth super challenging. Painting has always been my least favorite part of a project until I finally finished this morning and moved on to my new hated passion..................trenching.


Now, I know its important to protect the new ladies from predators here in the urban jungle. And I would by no means want to put my ladies in harm's way so I followed the tougher fork in the directions and decided to dig a foot deep trench around the coop so that the chicken wire goes down a foot deep and predators won't dig under the coop. I remembered seeing a fancy trench digger at the hardware store the other day and so this morning I ran there to get one...... $32.00.  No thank you. I will use my rusty dulled Target shovel before I spend money on something I'm only going to use once. Seriously, an hour and a half later and with a new posture resembling the Hunchback of Notre Dame I was done. After that, I felt like I would rather paint the Sistine chapel 30 times over than ever trench again. It was my new "I'm going to hire someone to do this next time" task until........................... the chicken wire.


"Seriously, why does this shit keep coiling up. UGH," I said to myself as I unraveled it for the thirteenth time.  I swore today. I swore a lot. First time really since starting this project. I had been productive today with framing the henhouse, painting the coop, and digging the trench. I don't know why I felt the need to delve into the chicken wire. I should have called it a night with the trench, poured myself a glass of wine, and been proud of my accomplishment for the day. Instead, I unraveled it for the thirteenth time, carefully measured it, bent it with precision as the directions said, and placed it up on the roof. But for some reason it didn't fit. Great. I wasn't about to cut it again. So I made it fit. At this point I was super annoyed and frustrated. Once again I should have stopped and called it quits.  But I didn't. I kept going nailing that chicken wire in its imperfect place with those annoying 3/4 galvanized poultry hen staples and BAM, I nailed my finger sooooo hard with the hammer. I haven't felt something hurt that bad in a real long time.  This is why my grumpiness came about. With my new throbbing finger, I have to say that chicken wire is my new worse enemy. Seriously, If it were human I would kick it's ass.

                          Blue Coop and the infamous chicken wire