I always have fun writing the copyright notices in my book. I leave the legalese alone, obviously, so don’t even think of suing me. But I generally add on a little train of nonsense at the end.
Copyright © 2017 by Melinda R. Cordell
All rights reserved. Although the author has made every effort to ensure that the information in this book was correct at press time, the author does not assume and hereby disclaims any liability to any party for any loss, damage, or disruption caused by errors or omissions, whether such errors or omissions result from negligence, accident, explosions, zombie apocalypses, angry birds, freak rose accidents, your cat getting into stuff that he shouldn’t, Death Eaters, meteors, or any other cause.
That’s from my Rose book. I have a different copyright notice in each book. Coming up with reasons for errors and omissions on my behalf is fun stuff.
I get the biggest kick out of the Pratts Poultry Food logo. I just stuck it in my second book, my vegetable gardening book, for fun. Then I kept using it. So I guess that means my publishing empire is called Pratts Poultry Food now? Oh well, it’s worth it just for the chicken logo.
Chickens have been my main reason for errors and omissions this year. I picked up two Barred Plymouth Rock chicks this year. (And by “chicks” I mean “actual baby chickens.”) They were supposed to both be females. Well, one of them grew a little larger than the other, and then her tail started sporting some curly feathers, and now she has started to crow. Or, he has started to crow. As is the case with cockerels (young roosters), it’s not a proper crow yet. All I know is that I was in the chicky house scooping out corn for the girls and suddenly CRA-CAAAAAAAA trumpeting next to my feet and I jumped and hit my head on the doorsill. Thanks a lot, honey.
I’m a little worried about this because we have neighbors all around, but so far he’s been quiet and just crows a few times in the morning, nothing too early (that I’ve heard).
Well, after we got the barred Rocks, my Production Red hen died. I think she broke her leg by jumping down from a perch. At any rate, the Rhode Island Red started picking at her, so every morning I’d pick up Limpy in my arms and put her down next to my deck. There’s a place there that’s out of sight from the rest of the world, with protection from the rain and lots of grass. She’d lounge in the grass and hang out there all day, occasionally try to hop around and knock over her water dish, and she did fine there. But then she started to get listless and finally died. I don’t know if her leg developed an infection or what happened – the leg wasn’t hot to the touch or anything.
But my daughter wanted chickies, so she got two more little ones from a friend’s farm. One is a somewhat rare breed, a Cream Crested Legbar, and the other is a little white Silky. Both should grow up to have pompoms on their heads. In the meantime, I try to get the babies and the other chickens acclimated to each other, but the big chickens keep picking on the little ones, so I have to keep them separated.
Most years, the chicken in the chicken coop don’t require much fussing. This year, with having two sets of baby chicks, and a sick hen, and our crowing miracle, it’s been kind of nuts. I am definitely looking forward to when our two newest chicks grow up enough to join the flock. Oh, God, I hope that the Cream Crested Legbar is not a rooster too ….