The New Hampshire Homesteader: Nancy Broadley

“Damn It! Peckerhead” Part 9

The temps were somewhat warm, if you can call 30 degrees warm, snowing heavily, but the barn chores needed to be done…and the barn needed cleaning! So set off at 6 a.m., shovel, pitchfork and ice chopper in hand to clean the deep, dark cavern before the deep freeze of the weekend sets in. The critters had all been fed, ice chipped from their water pails and everyone should have been content right? Wrong! The homestead doesn’t work that way!

Moving into the barn I run face first into the fluffy flucker who is pissed off that I am invading his turf! I was waiting for the drive-by shooting from the opposing gang…the Peckerhead Mafia. He stares at me as I enter, his beady eyes scoping me out…I stare back and growl. “Don’t you do it you little mofo!” I say quietly. Meanwhile, my buck comes running through, beelining for the door! With one lunge I tackle him to keep him from escape…and we roll around in the shitty hay like were bathing in the stuff, I come up with hay sticking out of my hair like a freakin spiked halo…yes, shit and all stuck in my hair…have you ever tried to comb little black turd balls from your long locks? Yeah, it ain’t easy!

I finally get the buck corralled and shoved back into his pen, tweaking my ass muscle in the process which cramps up about sending me to my knees! Peckerhead is laughing at me, thinking this is great fun and proceeds to jump from his perch and circle around me like a vulture….knowing that in my current state, I can’t freakin move! Seriously, my ass muscle locked into a spasm that paralyzed me! He takes a shot at my leg, I bust him in his chops. The yearling goatie girls are climbing me like a tree…my shovel, pitchfork and ice chipper are all outside the door so I have no weapons…..other than my gloved hands and my temper….swearing, I throw the goatee girls off of me, catch a horn in the cheek, get another swift peck to my leg…and lose it, I come up off the floor like the incredible hulk…roaring!!!!!!

I grab the fluffy flucker and bounce him off the wall, kick the goatie girls in their asses, punch my foot through the door between the bucks and the girls, threatening the bucks if they make one move I will put them into the freezer and sling the water pail out into the dooryard, yes I am two years old again and in the middle of a meltdown! Why oh why is every single chore on this homestead a battle of the fittest? Why oh why do I have a flucking fluffy pterodactyle that wants to eat me?

The barn eventually got cleaned, a little slower than I wanted but cleaned none the less…the animals survived my temper tantrum and Peckerhead is now hiding behind my hay pile, plotting and planning his next ninja attack….yes my friends, this is just a day in the life of this homesteader…and my ass still hurts!

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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.

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The New Hampshire Homesteader: Nancy Broadley

Hold My Iced Coffee: Part 5

Fudge! Fudge! Fudge! I really have to question my own decision making abilities when I face this morning’s brutal temperatures! Why would I live in a state where my face, fingers and toes flash freeze the minute I step outside? Complete and utter insanity I tell ya.

Vertigo…yup I have it…and this does not make for a good morning wake up call, but the animals have to be fed and watered. So, this morning, I stagger out into the cold like a drunken pole dancer who’s lost her pole to hold onto…slip sliding on the ice, hoping at my advanced age I don’t fall and break a hip…

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The New Hampshire Homesteader: Nancy Broadley

Hold My Iced Coffee: Part 4

Woot woot! Another record morning under the belt so to speak…Lesson I’ve learned today: Do not be so freaking forgetful!

Picture this: Stumbling out to feed the critters, go into the woodshed where the grain and hay is kept….still dark, but not dark enough that I can’t see, so leave the headlamp hanging on the peg in the kitchen. I got this right?

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New Hampshire Homesteader: Nancy Broadley

Hold My Iced Coffee: Part 3

I knew this morning waking up, that the weather would be a challenge today. Just when you think you have this homesteading gig figured out, bam! Mother Nature throws you a curve ball and smacks you right in the face with it.

Being the smart homesteader I am, or at least think I am, I added spreading sand to my list of morning chores today due to the ice storm we are having. Pretty smart right? And last night I prefilled the critters water buckets in case the power went out. So yay me! I was thinking ahead!

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New Hampshire Homesteader: Nancy Broadley

Hold My Iced Coffee: Part 2

Well, do ya ever wake up just wanting to rip the heads off of kittens? Joke my friends, joke! Three a.m, the witching hour. And I hear screams coming from the barn. And howls, and yips and barks, echoing in the darkness. Flying out’a bed, I grab the gun, pull on my eyeore bathrobe and go stumbling into the dark. Now mind you, hubby sleeps through it all. He’d be so easy to dispose of in his sleep, so it really is a good thing I kinda like having him around.

With my headlamp on, I make my way to the barn, hoping I won’t slip on the ice and shoot myself in the foot. Coyotes! A whole pack has decided to convene an early morning meeting outside my barn. I yell, they yell, I scream, they scream! I watch as they scatter.

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New Hampshire Homesteader: Nancy Broadley

Besides writing Post-Apocalyptic books and helping with Prepper Daves, Nancy lives in a small log cabin in southern New Hampshire with her husband and her nemesis Peckerhead (her rooster that causes her lots of real-life havoc on a daily basis).

She lives a real-life small homestead lifestyle (with real-life struggles), not a commercialized version we see on television, or read about in our fantastical books that romanticize the homesteading lifestyle.

Here are just a few examples of her daily foibles she finds on her daily homesteading lifestyle;

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