Monday, January 16, 2006
Sheetrock and Racoons
This last weekend we made plans to rent a sheetrock lift, and would be picking it up on Saturday. That left Friday afternoon free to get some shopping done. We needed lights for the upper wall section in the dining room. I really wanted half globe ones that mounted right on the wall, which would match the chandelier. We checked out Menards, Home Depot and two specialties shops in
We did make a slightly longer stop at Sportsman’s Warehouse than planned. My husband’s ready to ban me from going into gun shops for a while. Does not help that my son came home today and said Cabala’s has my long range rifle on clearance . . . But I still have a long way to go to catch up to my husband, so I don’t know what he has to complain about!
We did make it home at dusk, and instead of working on the house, went out under the yard light and popped off a few rounds with our set of “his and hers” .357’s . Ok, so it was more like 50, but that’s all my husband brought out with us.
Saturday morning we planned on getting up early, finishing up the east end of the dining room ceiling and then going and getting the lift. Didn’t get to the Rental Shop until after 8:30, and then we decided to go look at a new house under construction that a coworker had told us about. I think we were procrastinating more than anything, but it was a nice drive.
We did make it home and finally got to putting up sheetrock. I think we got two pieces up before breaking for lunch. Got a few more sheets up and then our neighbor called, he was broke down on the highway, about 6 miles away. Hubby took off with the truck, and I goofed off on the computer until he got back. They got the car back to our place, but Robbie didn’t have time to mess with it, so he took off and hubby and I got back to work. We did manage to get all the ceiling pieces up, and then decided that was enough for one day.
Sunday wasn’t a whole lot more productive. Got some sheetrock up on the walls, and then Robbie called in the early afternoon and hubby and he spent time working on his car. They think they figured it out. Now Robbie has to get the parts, so the car will stay in our driveway for a bit longer. Not too bad, but right now we’ve got hubby’s car, both pickups, son’s car and Robbie’s car all in the front drive. My car gets the open bay in eh shop – hehehe!
Hubby came back in, but neither of us was motivated to get back to work, so instead we surfed the net for a bit until it started getting dark. I don’t like doing the chores in the dark, so I got motivated to get off my backside, and hubby followed suit. I figured we’d get a big more done after taking care of the animals, but it didn’t work out that way.
Our normal routine is for me to feed the horses, dog and barn cats, while hubby takes care of the chickens. As I was heading to the barn, I called over my shoulder “We should haul a bale for the horses”, and hubby went back into the house and grabbed the keys for the skid steer. We have three horses, and one bale a week works for them. If the weather is real cold, we’ll haul more. We’ve had temps consistently above freezing, so right now they don’t need the extra fuel. They are plenty plump as it is.
I went to the barn to get the grain and buckets, letting Angel, our yellow lab out of her kennel. She loves having this time to run around and check everything out. I don’t think she stops running the whole time she is out with us. I checked the live trap, and it was empty. Only thing we’ve caught since we set it up last week was one of the cats. Peanut has been caught several times; I guess her curiosity gets the best of her, even though she knows it’s a trap. The other four barn cats have only been caught once. Last thing we got was a possum, but that was in the spring. We knew something was helping itself to the cat food again, so we were on the watch.
I put one scoop of grain in each of the three buckets, and headed out to the gate where we feed the horses. This is on the north side of the barn, where we put the new waterer. We also have this year’s hay crop stacked there, 10 large round bales of hay. We also have some left over from the last few years, on the other side of the barn.
The horses got their grain, the chickens got their food and water, and we rounded them up (with the help of Angel) and closed them in the coop for the night. Hubby went to get the skid steer, and I grabbed the now empty buckets and headed back to the barn. While hubby went to stick a hay bale, my job was to go open the wire gate on so he could get into the pasture. The horses got excited; they could see my hubby coming with a fresh bale of hay. As I walked behind the silos, I noticed tracks in the mud, evidence of what ever was helping them selves to the cat food. Looked bigger than the last possum tracks I’d seen, and no tail marks either. I figured I’d point them out to hubby after we got done moving hay.
On my way to the gate, I walked past the old hay bales. Two stacks, each two bales wide, two deep, with a single row set up top. They’ve been there a while, and turned into home for several critters. Next to them lay two such critters, trophies from Angel’s efforts to evict possums from the hay pile. Angel got real excited, climbing up and down and digging at the spots in between the bales. I figured what ever left the tracks was hiding in there. I had to run to get the gate open before hubby got there with the hay bale, and I stand guard to make sure the horses don’t use the excitement as an excuse to check out what is on the other side of the gate. Angel was real interested in that hay pile, I watched her dig and run around. Hubby got the bale set, left the yard and went to put the machine away while I hooked back up the wire. This spot has two rows of hot wire, and hubby had just got it all mended a few days ago. The storm we had in November did a number on the fence, but it was snapping good now!
I walked back to the machine shed, noticing that hubby had managed to cover up the critter tracks with skid steer tracks. He was closing the door to the shed.
“Hey Hon” I said, "Angel’s real interested in the hay pile, you want to go get a flashlight and a gun and see if we can find anything”
“I saw tracks” he replied, “I’m betting it’s another possum”
“You go get the gun, me and Angel will keep it occupied until you get back”
Hubby headed off to the house, while I and Angel walked back to the hay pile. She didn’t seem as eager this time, but we waited anyway. Hubby came out with the flashlight and a firearm, but it was getting dark and I didn’t recognize which one he had. He shined the light between the bales and said
“Yup, he’s in there” He took aim and I hollered
“Hold up, let me get Angel out of the way” I moved back several paces, and called the dog, who had been climbing on the hay right above where hubby was going to shoot. We stood back; he took aim, pulled the trigger and “POP!!!” went the gun.
My first thought was “Did he bring out the pellet gun?” He fired again; “POP” the gun went. I came up to him, he’s got his Romanian .22, this should not be going “POP”. Hubby had a disgusted look on his face. “Somebody put those darn CB caps in the magazine” he hollered.
“Is it still in there?” I asked, and took the flashlight and looked, seeing eyes and a snout, and a face mask. .
“That’s not a possum” I said,
“Yea, it’s a big coon” hubby replied as he took aim again. “Pop” again. Hubby was getting mad, pointed the gun away at the ground and fired three more shots – “Pop, pop, BANG”
He aimed into the hole again – “Click” that’s what happens when you try to shoot eight shots from a magazine that holds 7. Hubby’s reloading, and I look back into the hole. I see lots of blood, but no coon.
Hubby’s now ready to go, but the coon had had enough and found a back door. We went around to the other side of the hay bale, now we’re between the two stacks, in a spot about 3’ wide, backed up to the old barbed wire fence with one row of hot at the top. This is to keep the horses from leaning over the fence from their side and getting at the hay. We can see a blood trail where the coon got out and went under the second stack of hay. I peek in the hole, and there he is looking back at me. Hubby takes the light and looks in, and hollers “get back out of the way”. Hubby’s got his back to the fence, and facing the opening, I’m on the other side, so quickly move out and to the south. I didn’t know if the coon was coming out, or if I was just in the line of fire. Neither seemed like a good thing at the time. I called the dog, and we both moved to the far side of the first hay pile, but I couldn’t see what was happening on the other side.
“Bang” goes the gun and hubby screams in pain. I’m freaking out, certain that coon is after him, and start moving forward.
“Did the coon get you” I holler, not able to see much of hubby in the dwindling light.
“No, I hit the fence!” He hollers back. I figured he was ok (enough) and take off after the coon with the dog.
“Get him Angel” I holler, as we both take off after the coon. Now this bugger looks about 4 times the size of the possums we’ve gotten, and that dog was NOT going to take it on. She did manage to turn it, and the coon came back toward me, but then scooted around the side of the machine shed. I’m trying to keep close enough to see where it’s going, and holler back to hubby “He’s coming back around to your side”. Me and the dog climb through the old fence near the grain bin, and back toward the hay bales. I don’t see the coon, but Angel goes up by the big cement feed bunk and I here it growl at her. Hubby is on the other side, not moving real fast “Can you shoot it again” I asked him. “Yea,” he says, a bit shaky “You back off a bit”
He took another shot, and the coon came out my side of the bunk, and went back around the front of the machine shed. I got a pretty good look at the coon, his face was shot up, and his lower jaw was hanging at an unnatural angle.
“He’s going back around the shed” I yell, trying to keep the coon in sight. I look over, and hubby is still not moving well. “Are you doing ok” I ask
“No,” he answers “I got into that fence real good”. He had taken a step back after shooting, slipped and fell backwards into the barbed wire. He got the hot across his upper back, and while he was trying to get unhooked for the barbed wire, he got the second, stronger jolt across his shoulder, down his arm making the whole arm go numb.
The coon went between the shed and the bin, I went around the shed, and couldn’t find any trace of the bugger. Hubby came around the other side of the shed, and he didn’t see him going that way. We thought maybe the coon had gone in the barn, but we looked in the only two places he could have gotten in, and there was no evidence he’d been that way. He was bleeding pretty good, but with the combination of snow, mud, ice and water and frozen ground, we couldn’t follow his trail. We looked for tracks all over, and didn’t find any. I hate not getting the job finished. If there is a varmint that needs shooting, I want it done quick and as painless to the animal as possible.
I asked my hubby later why he grabbed the .22. He said he was going to grab the .357, but figured it was only a possum, and that would be overkill. I told him next time go for the overkill. Blown to bits is way better than running off wounded.
Cathy
Good bye to the old outhouse
Hubby had plans for doing some burning Sunday morning, but I figured it was a bit too windy when I got up, so I let him sleep. He got up a bit later, and announced that he didn’t think it was all that windy after all, and he was going to burn the old outhouse and some of the other scrap lumber lying around.
He let the chickens out for the day; they sure have liked the warmer weather we’ve been having.
While hubby was out minding the fire, I did some more demo work in the laundry room, and got that all cleaned up.
