Three weekends of satisfying work, and I am rewarded with a snazzy new rooster coop. The first residents seem delighted with their new digs. It may have been sparked by an uncomfortable night moving birds out of a crappy old chicken tractor, but this has in reality been my first big Covid project.
Circling the wagons, improving infrastructure, provisioning the household, increasing personal food security. This all brings me comfort and a sense of control in a world where normal looks a long way off.
I know it’s not just me. People everywhere are busy with Covid projects. Starting new gardens, refurbing or enlarging old ones. Adopting new pets or expanding their livestock holdings (in our case, with ducks). Keeping sourdough starter and scobys, making kombucha and bread. Even Dear Husband turned out a few loaves.
I have to laugh at myself though. I only figured it out today, as I was sitting out there drinking lemonade, admiring my accomplishment. My tall, secure coop, with spacious roosts. My fully netted pen. My grassy 2500 square foot free range yard. Sure it works for roosters, but do you know what we actually have here? The perfect turkey setup.
I have considered turkeys for a few years now, and of course researched their needs thoroughly, on many a snug winter evening by the fire. An informed farmer makes for a successful farmer after all. But I never pulled the trigger on a turkey project because usually, one or another of my neighbours have birds available for the big three turkey-fuelled holidays, Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas. It’s much easier just walking down the road, handing over some cash, and toting home a delicious zero mile diet roaster. This year, neighbour S is raising them and I’ve already put my name in.
I honestly didn’t mean to build a turkey shed, so I have to have a good laugh at myself. I’m such a turkey sometimes. 
But I couldn’t have designed a place more suitable for raising turkeys if I had tried. Even my subconscious is in prepping mode I guess.
Maybe I can pick up some turkey eggs next spring, try to hatch a few, see how it goes. Something to muse on, this winter by the fire.
