No, I am not dead, although for a few days I either thought I was going to die or actually wished for it.
I do not believe I have ever been that sick in the entirety of my life.
I also hope that I am never that sick again. Now I am left with the remnants of a sinus infection and the copious nose blowing that accompanies this time of year for me.
My chickens have grown up without me, the coop is still not built but they have grazing opportunities during the day where I can keep a watchful eye on the nest of red tails just adjacent to the property.
My girls are not dull birds, they see the shadows overhead and squawk in alarm as they run frantically to the cover of the big Alder behind the house.
The dogs are starting to settle in to the presence of the noisy, fragrant intruders with only the mildest of curiosity; my eldest, Cotton, was accosted by my largest hen when he became to curious for her liking.
He apologized humbly and distanced himself from her chicken rage.
My pup, not so much.
She thinks the birds are of the most entertaining of sorts, passing up the opportunity for a run in the long, overgrown pasture and the stream for a deliberate study of the funny looking not-ducks and how to access them.
No pictures this day, but I am sure more opportunities will avail themselves in the future.