Why is it that it always takes you so long to get used to things when they change. My dear Husband built a large, heavy, sturdy nesting box for our hens. It actually contains three nice big nests. But it didn't take long before we realized that we had hung it in the wrong place, that wrong place being right amongst the chicken roosts. The nests became really nasty very quickly.
So, my DH finally got around to moving the thing. He moved it to another wall inside the goat/chicken shed. It is now right inside the door and hung a little bit higher than it was. That little bit higher is right above eye level.
I knew that it was now in a dangerous place if I wasn't really paying attention when I came through the door. I had several close calls where I glanced up right before I walked into it.
But my luck finally ran out and the corner of the thing smacked me right in the hairline of my forehead. I bounced back a couple of steps then staggered to the window and grabbed a handful of window sill to steady myself.
I moved my other hand away from my forehead where it had landed instinctively and I felt something wet. I was just certain that I had busted my head wide open and was bleeding profusely but it turned out just to be dog slobbers from where Angel had licked my hand when I walked into the shed.
I survived somehow with just a small dent in my skull and it still hurts when I move my eyebrows. I have refused to go back into the shed since then. There are just too many unpleasant memories for me there now.
I have always loved my goat/chicken shed but now it scares me. You would think that once you banged your head into something like that, you would never forget it and it would never happen again. But I know myself better than that. It takes more than a dented skull to make me remember anything, it takes time and lots of it. Once that nest box has hung there for 3 or 4 years, I will never run into it again.