The Epic Failure of an Inept Maggot Munching Duo

Today we focused on doing the things we love.  Seamus went rock climbing.

Ali went swinging.

And I gave Ava a good brushing and copious amounts of puppy snuggles.

I also mucked the donkey and goat barns.  I generally do not mind mucking barns; in fact, I enjoy the solitude and bonding time with my animals.  But in the summer, during fly season, mucking can get maggoty.  For me maggots are in the same category as snakes and caterpillars.  I do not like them; they are disgusting. To find writhing piles of maggots when I scrape the barn floor makes me want to gag.  

Interestingly, maggots are only an issue in barns where no chickens reside.  Chickens love to eat maggots and scratch up the straw on their coop floor to find each and every tasty morsel of them.  So, I had the bright idea of trucking two hens out to the goat barn to munch up the maggots I unearthed there.  I plucked two brown hens off of the roost in the chicken coop and plopped them down inside the goat barn.  On the walk over we had an in depth conversation (yes, I speak chicken) involving a clear job description and my expectations for their conduct.  

Unfortunately for me, the chickens, like everyone else who has come in contact with our baby goats, went gaga over the adorable kids as soon as they saw them.  The hens promptly forgot all about why they were in the goat barn in the first place and instead went hopping and prancing around with the goat kids.  They did not even munch one maggot.  They did not even look at a maggot.  They were mesmerized by the goats.

At this point, despite having a warm bath, a tummy full of milk and lots of mama cuddles, Alistair woke up screaming (thank goodness for baby monitors).  I called a time out and headed inside to get him back to sleep.  

A calm and tired Alistair post-bath. 
Seamus is an exceptional baby bather.

Twenty minutes later I had soothed the baby back to sleep, regrouped, and returned to deal with the duo of inept maggot munchers.

One very unhelpful hen.

By this point the hens had pretty much convinced themselves that they were now goats and they were absolutely not interested in returning to their boring chicken coop.  As a result, I was forced to chase them around the goat yard like a some sort of goat-chicken wrangling maniac.

Mellie thought this was hilarious and watched my crazy antics from her perch atop Ava's outdoor crate.

Again, worst Mama ever. 
Mellie is perfectly unconcerned that her kids cannot reach her
to nurse while she is perched up there.

I might be much worse for wear but I finally got everyone sorted out.  The goats are in the goat barn, Ava is in her crate, the chickens and ducks are in the coop, the donkey and sheep are in their barn, Charlotte and Emily are in the house, and Seamus and Ali are in their bed and crib dozing peacefully.  

I am managing to combine childcare with knocking items off my chore to do list during my solo farm weekend but I am beginning to worry that it might just be at the cost of my sanity!  What a crazy day.