The New Hampshire Homesteader: Nancy Broadley

“Damn It! Peckerhead” Part 8

We are changing the name of the series from “Hold My Iced Coffee” to “Damn It! Peckerhead”

The Homesteader Punt

Well this week has been one for the books and I am happy it is just about over…we’ve had shit weather, shit moods, shit luck this week it seems.

With the attack of the weasel last week, I had to remove my hen to a safer space, and this has caused quite the stir with the bad boy of the barnyard.  He’s been in a foul mood all week, pacing like a caged tiger, ready to attack anything and everyone that moves, including me.

See, he doesn’t like his haram split up, and although he can see the fluffy little raptor through the fence, he is still as pissed off as a cat who’s had to have a bath.  He stays at the fence line, charging it, squawking, hissing, growling and throwing insults every chance he can get.  But, what he doesn’t realize or perhaps he does, is that the other hens will tear her apart if I put her back with them before she heals…they are descendants of velociraptors after all, they smell blood and it’s all over, they go into kill mode. 

So this morning, it’s hailing, it’s snowing, it’s blowing and he’s ready to rumble.  I open the coop door, thinking the weather would keep him low, but oh no, not that fluffy little flucker!  He comes charging out at me, wings spread, an evil, murderous glint to his beady little eyes, hissing and growling…spurs aiming for my legs…

But, what he doesn’t know is I’m wearing layers…lots of layers.  I football boot him like the karate kid, and he tumbles. 

He comes back again and pecks the hand that feeds him, so I bop him over the head with my empty water pail while trying to keep a randy buck from climbing up my back…it’s not me the buck wants but rather the container of chicken feed in my hands.

I boot the buck off, roll him in the snow all the while fighting this asshole rooster who’s pissed off at the world. 

Now, to make matters worse, I have a seven year old and a four year old standing at the fence line, screaming logistics at me…

“Grammy, left, duck!

“Grammy, behind you, run!”

“Grammy, watch out Peckerhead is coming in low, kick him!” 

I felt like a traffic control cop, ducking, swerving, rolling, waving my arms like some demented pigeon, trying to fly away.

Peckerhead comes in again, the buck is still trying to climb me like a tree and I’m losing my footing on the ice and snow, I’ve got chicken shit in my hair, all over my gloves, the grands are yelling, I’m yelling and dodging blows…

I throw the bucket at the fluffy flucker, I kick the randy buck in his ass one more time, I’m breathing in huffs and gasps as I try to outmaneuver these critters…and lo and behold the seven year old comes charging in with a big stick!

I’m so proud of that little homesteader, she swung like Babe Ruth for the bleachers…

So Grammy brag moment here on the homestead…I’m teaching em right folks! 

Stay Tuned for “Damn It! Peckerhead” Part 9

It is finally here (Dammit Peckerhead: Stories from the Homestead): The next NYT best seller that we all want to read is finally here. The book full of antics and chaos Peckerhead causes around the homestead put in that homespun way we have all come to love over the past couple of months.

Dammit Peckerhead: Stories from the Homestead

The hilarity abounds as Nancy takes on a Fluffy Flucker named Peckerhead who creates his own set of unique challenges for her every day.

Take a wild ride on this homestead as she learns how to wrangle a gnarly rooster, raise a chickens and ducks; all the while introducing herself to the pitfalls of what it takes to be a present-day homesteader.

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