Yet another episode of the Keystone Cops

So yesterday I went out to feed my chickens. A pretty straightforward task that doesn't take a whole lot of thought, effort or time. Usually.

I had filled their feeder and was putting it back in the coop when somehow, I'm not even sure how, I whacked my head on one of the boards that holds up the roof. And when I say "whacked" I truly mean I whacked that sucker hard. Like, seeing stars hard. Instant pain shooting through my head hard. Ah awesome.

So I finish setting the feeder down, grab my head and start stumbling out of the coop. Now, just outside of the coop, Mister C had put a trail of stepping stones so I could walk from the coop to the grass without stepping on the gravel. The only problem is that earlier in the day one of the dogs had run through the area and knocked some rocks onto the the stepping stones. And as I stumbled blindly out of the coop, holding my head in agony, I stepped directly onto one of those stones that were sitting on the stepping stone. Barefooted. And it was like stepping on a Lego on the kitchen floor, the pain shot up through my foot and my immediate reaction was to try and get away from that pain.

So now I'm holding my head, trying to lean away from the sharp rock in my foot, and trying to keep my balance while blinded by pain from head to toe. And of course it's me, so there's no balance on a good day without issues and I started to tip over. I reached out to grab the nearest thing to try and catch my balance. The nearest thing happened to be the top rail of one of our raised garden beds. I caught myself and immediately felt pain in my thumb because somehow, I had managed to catch the rail at just the right angle to shove a splinter of wood deep into my thumb.

So now, I'm holding my aching head, limping from the rock in my foot and bleeding from a splinter that's so deep in my thumb that I can barely see it. Oh and the chickens are fairly traumatized as well by the all the flailing about and whimpering. Good times.

It took two attempts by me and one by Mister C before I could dig that stupid splinter out. By the end I was bleeding pretty well and it still hurts today as does my head. On the bright side, my foot feels perfectly normal.

The best part of the whole incident is the that I've read enough and seen enough of what chickens can and will eat and there's no way I'm going down in their immediate area. That's all I need is to be pecked to death by my girls. I suspect there would be no glory in that ending.

So, there you have it, yet another reason why I shouldn't be allowed out without supervision.