I live in a flood plain. Folks, it's been exciting at times.
We have a big back yard, including land on both sides of a "branch of the Neshaminy Creek". Every goddam rivlet of running water around here is a "branch of the Neshaminy Creek". The first year Jessie and I moved in, it was stunning beyond belief to twice see the water start marching accross the entire back yard right up to our back veranda -- the second time it reached the third step.
Zoltan, the 5' 4" Hungarian guy who built this place, knew what he was doing, however. Not only is there no basement, but the entire house is elevated. I fear no evil, etc., even if sometimes I have had to row to my car.
What has all of this to do with chicken diapers, you may well ask?
Snow.
We recently got a ton of it here in the great state of Pennsylvania. Then came the rains. I was heartened not to see the Neshaminy noticably rise. Then I looked out the front, where water was pouring down my driveway on into my garage (not elevated).
Are you with me so far?
Good.
I have a cock. Yes, I know, many of you are the proud posessors of one as well. I'm happy for you. Mine, however, is avain, a rooster named Rainbow. He's a hardy fellow, who roosts in the copse of evergreens in my front yard, and ambles around back every morning to his food and water.
Roosters need to keep their feet dry. There was too much damn snow, so I ensconced him in the boiler room off the garage. When the rains came, though, he got flooded out.
Now he's pecking and pooping around my house. Hey, I'm not Martha Stewart, but enough is enough. On to google for chicken diapers.
Ahhhhh, google, my great good friend.
Found Www.flightquarters.com -- their phone number, I kid you not, is:
888 For One To Poop.
Where's Triumph when you really need him? 😉
We have a big back yard, including land on both sides of a "branch of the Neshaminy Creek". Every goddam rivlet of running water around here is a "branch of the Neshaminy Creek". The first year Jessie and I moved in, it was stunning beyond belief to twice see the water start marching accross the entire back yard right up to our back veranda -- the second time it reached the third step.
Zoltan, the 5' 4" Hungarian guy who built this place, knew what he was doing, however. Not only is there no basement, but the entire house is elevated. I fear no evil, etc., even if sometimes I have had to row to my car.
What has all of this to do with chicken diapers, you may well ask?
Snow.
We recently got a ton of it here in the great state of Pennsylvania. Then came the rains. I was heartened not to see the Neshaminy noticably rise. Then I looked out the front, where water was pouring down my driveway on into my garage (not elevated).
Are you with me so far?
Good.
I have a cock. Yes, I know, many of you are the proud posessors of one as well. I'm happy for you. Mine, however, is avain, a rooster named Rainbow. He's a hardy fellow, who roosts in the copse of evergreens in my front yard, and ambles around back every morning to his food and water.
Roosters need to keep their feet dry. There was too much damn snow, so I ensconced him in the boiler room off the garage. When the rains came, though, he got flooded out.
Now he's pecking and pooping around my house. Hey, I'm not Martha Stewart, but enough is enough. On to google for chicken diapers.
Ahhhhh, google, my great good friend.
Found Www.flightquarters.com -- their phone number, I kid you not, is:
888 For One To Poop.
Where's Triumph when you really need him? 😉
