Our vacations are not usually vacations, at least, not for the last few years. They have been more of "valley home repairs and funeral" vacations.
We finally just decided to get away for a few days and NOT work on the valley house. We prayed (with crossed-fingers) that the family stayed well, too.
So, we called the chicken sitters (betcha a few of you re-read that line) and arranged times/days. I cleaned out the coop straw, threw it into the compost and added new straw for the girls. Nice, fluffy and clean-smelling straw, which they promptly went to town in. You'd have thought I'd put worms in the coop. Straw was flying and the girls were actually purring. I never know what sounds to expect from them, but purring fit.
The last broccoli plant from the straw bales went into the run for a snack. I'm not looking forward to moving all those bales to the compost, so they may sit through winter.
Naw! I'll get Steve to move them sometime.
The place we were headed for vaca has a no pets policy, so Ziva had to head to her sitter. When we checked for reservations, we found they no longer kennel. My mom, ever the net-worker, knew of someone in Payson.
We took Ziva for a meet-cute with this new sitter and her charges. Ziva had the best time. She ran around with the other dogs until she wore herself out. This sitter only takes large dogs, so she was in her element. She really bonded with a Golden Retriever.
3 acres to roam. Grass, chickens, other dogs. I was worried she may not want to come home with us. Thank goodness she did. Steve wouldn't have survived it if she didn't.
Now, we'll be off for a few days.