You know those cold-blooded women in movies, who can plot and plan someone's demise with a coolness that is at once intriguing and terrifying? I am not one of those women.
Today was Chaos's last day. I checked on her this morning and there was no improvement, and so pragmatism had to take charge of the situation. I decided last night that I would not make a good candidate for plotting murder; I was on edge because of culling a chicken, for goodness sake. D very gallantly agreed to do the actual dirty work, which was quiet and pretty quick. The other hens seemed oblivious to the fate of their fellow and continued with the serious work of scratching and pecking. Cheeky does seem to have made progress and is much more active. Perhaps she overheard our plans for Chaos and decided to get better NOW.
Today has seemed like Saturday, with D home from work having taken a vacation day so he could work on preparing the message for Sunday. It's one of the three Sundays that he's speaking this summer and he really does like to be well prepared. Tonight is A's party, for which I have made a tent cake, including a campfire made from pretzel sticks. And I was pleasantly surprised with the results. When D gets back form an errand I shall try to steal his phone for some pics.