Brooding Disaster

Saturday, I told Chris that we needed to move the broody hen and her clutch of eggs to the chicken tractor that night. We forgot. The next day, I told Chris again, "We have to move the chicken tonight." But by the time I remembered Sunday night, Chris was showered and in his jammies, ready to relax, and I didn't feel like doing it by myself.

Monday evening, I went to check for eggs after the Memorial Day gathering and found the hen off the nest, three eggs missing, and a yolky mess covering the nest and four remaining eggs. I wasn't sure if I should try to clean the eggs to see if they would still hatch, but they didn't feel very warm, and I was feeling discouraged so decided it would be best to dispose of the eggs.

This morning, Finley walked in with an egg in hand and said, "There's something inside this egg. I can hear something when I shake it." Fresh eggs don't make noises, I thought. "Where did you find it?" I asked as I took the egg and shook it. Something was definitely sloshing around in there. "On the floor of the chicken coop." Oh. I could picture the partially developed embryo slapping up against the sides of the egg, and it made me a little sick. "I want to see what's inside." Finley said.

After explaining what I thought had happened, she still wanted to see what was inside the egg. It's funny to me how her curiosity can overcome her sensitive spirit at times. Although I wasn't too keen on seeing its innards, I donned my boots and out we went to crack the egg. The shell broke nicely off the embryonic sac and it took a little effort to tear it open enough to free the tiny little chicken that would have hatched in about a week.

Life is bizarre.

Memorial Day Weekend

It's been a productive weekend. Friday, we finished reorganizing and cleaning the playroom and kids' room. That was no small feat. I had been trying get it done for three days, but it took Chris getting home early and lending a hand to get it finished.

Yesterday, while Chris caulked and painted some of the house, I took the old truck topper frame and wrapped it in fencing to provide a chicken run for the birds destined for slaughter.

I feel a little like the witch in Hansel and Gretel, feeding the chickens as much as they want to eat, hoping they won't catch on to my plan and thy to escape. I have to be honest, I had a dream last night that I was cleaning the guts out of a butchered chicken and started dry-heaving. I hope that isn't a bad sign.

Today, Chris and I worked some more on the house, hanging the ceiling joists for the front porch and finishing the siding on the front. This little guy hung out with us the whole time:

One thing I am thankful for is that Chris has the patience to paint, because I don't have a whole lot.

 Another thing I am thankful for is having kids that are old enough to take care of themselves and each other while we are busy working on the house.

We're getting a lot closer to having the outside of the house finished. It felt good to get back into the swing of things.

The tools are put away for the day now, and we're all kickin' back, waiting for the race to start. Tomorrow we relax and grill and take go-karts rides around the farm.

Life is complicated

It's Friday morning. Joe is sick with whatever Finley just got over, and in spite of a runny nose, I've just come in from spending a little time in the garden.

This morning, I planted some watermelon seed that Joe insisted I buy and some pie pumpkin seed saved from the fall. Together with the Pennsylvania Dutch Crookneck Squash (my favorite variety of butternut), I'm sure the garden will be overrun with vines, but who cares? I have completely given up on having the ultimate, practical garden plan until the house is done. The water is on the garden now, since we're not expecting rain any time soon. I think I need a new sprinkler, because the oscillating one I have keeps getting stuck. I just set out one of those clicky, revolving types on a T-post, but it isn't watering too evenly... What to do?

I do need to get my sour-dough going again, though. Tomatoes are on the way, and there's nothing better than a tomato sandwich on sour-dough.

The deeper we get into this raising chickens thing, the more complicated it seems to get. I am very tired of the extra chickens running around and crowding my feet, so I had planned to gather the ones I wanted to butcher into the chicken tractor to fatten them up. In order to do that, I wanted to make a couple more nesting boxes for the big coop since my broody hens are taking up two of them, and some of my other chickens have started laying in the chicken tractor. (Sandbox hen moved to the tractor after the kids filled the sandbox up with water earlier this week. I kind of miss her.) When I went to refresh my memory on the proper nesting box size, I read that broody hens really should be separated since other hens tend to sneak onto her nest when she's out grabbing a bite to eat (which has happened) and the other chickens might try to kill the chicks when they hatch. Great. So, ideally, I need to try to move my broody hen out to the chicken tractor (at night, the book says... it didn't work last time I tried that during the day), but then where do I put the chickens I want to fatten up? I do have the frame of an old truck topper I could cover in netting or chicken wire to use, and though it might not be tall enough, it might just have to do...

And I think I've figured out how to build the plucker, and just spent some money ordering plucking fingers, so I'm committed to this now. I can't just 'chicken out' and give them away on craigslist.

She Said She Meant To Write 'Best'

The Principal's Ride

This is what Mr. Delk, the pricipal at our kids' school drives: an old Dodge pickup that is repainted every year by a fourth-grade student. Last year, it was blue with Zebra stripes and the slogan, "Wild About CHES" written on the side.

I can't tell you how thankful I am to have our kids in school here.

Chris bought me a rain gauge for Mother's Day. Monday, I mounted it to a fence post, and I've been waiting all week for more than a sprinkle of rain. Got a good downpour just now, so I went out under cover of umbrella to watch the gauge fill. It's maddening how infrequently a raindrop will actuall hit a square inch. Two-tenths of an inch. Not bad, but I'm hoping for more later today so I can really check out the magnifying effect the water will have on the numbers.

Random Update

So Joe graduated from Kindergarten on Friday. And this is where I reveal a bit of my 'bad mom' side. I could really care less. Although I understand that these kids probably get a kick out of such an event, I was perfectly content to miss my own high-school graduation and really dread that I will probably have to sit through one more Kindergarten graduation, three 5th-grade graduations, and three high-school graduations. Ugh. If they could shorten them up, I wouldn't complain so much, but listening to the names of 120+ kids.... So, Finley, Joe, and Z: When you read this 10 or 20 years down the road, please know that I suffered through these things because I love you and try not to take it personally if I rolled my eyes or heaved great sighs of ennui. I AM proud of you, but could do without the ceremony.

 And this is also what happens at the end of the school year. The kids bring home the contents of their desks (and who knows what else) and it gets dumped on the art table for me to sort through. Would it really be so bad just to scoop all of it into a large trash can or would I risk emotionally damaging my children?

This weekend, Chris and I managed to get a little more work done on the house. It's been hard to get motivated this spring, since there are a lot of tedious, little, detail issues to work through. But Saturday, we got the siding the rest of the way up on the front, right side of the house under the soffitt, and finished the little triangle piece above the right side porch beam.

 This week I also worked a little on what will be the center of my perennial garden, laying some of the stone that will encircle the bed. There are plenty of rocks around here, but not all of them have the nice, squared off shape that makes building easy, so I hope the rest of it will turn out well. If you could see what I have envisioned...

I'm learning to be more content and patient with the process of working toward what I want this place to be.  After all, it is hard to appreciate the things that come instantly or easily.

More Hen Issues

Two days ago, I noticed that two of my hens had been sitting in the nesting boxes all afternoon. Something about Mother's Day must have stirred that innate desire to hatch some chicks...

The hen on the right was the one that got all broody on me earlier this year, and since I haven't caught her getting off the nest yet, it seems like she might be willing to stick it out this time. Goldie2 (left), however, is not so focused, and yesterday morning when she was out for a stroll, I stole her egg. Yes, she was sitting on only one egg. Unfortunately, she went back to the nest later that day, and didn't seem to notice that there were no eggs to sit on and has been there ever since. Not sure how to handle this one. I need to read some chicken-psychology books.

It's been a big week for me.

It started off last Sunday. The pastures needed a good bush hogging, and our neighbor, Terry, was kind enough to let us use his tractor and ten-foot bush hog to mow. While showing us the finer points of bush hogging, Terry decided some of the pasture was good enough to cut for hay. After he sectioned off the area he didn't want to cut for hay, I took the wheel.
I can't help it. I have a thing for tractors. Especially big ones. Chris never got a turn on it. I got the north pasture mowed in a fourth of the time it would have taken on our little International.

Terry baling hay.

Thursday, I went to help butcher some chickens. (!!!) I won't lie. All day Wednesday, I kept trying to find excuses not to go, and when I woke up at night, told myself I would be too tired. But I went anyway. Stephanie raises chickens for meat, then hires some Mennonite women to come help with the butchering. They bring the plucker and the killing cone, and everybody pitches in...

After we were all set up, a little Mennonite boy crawled into the chicken run, grabbed a chicken and handed it to his mother, who dropped it upside-down into the cone. Stephanie took the knife, and off came the chicken's head. Then she handed me the knife. After checking to see which side of the knife was a sharper, I gave it a go. Four or five chickens later, and a whiff of chicken poo, I realized I might need a break.

The chickens were then scalded and plucked, and the ladies very patiently showed me how to gut them. Everyone had a slightly different way of doing it, so it took me a while to get the hang of it, but eventually I felt at least I wasn't butchering the already butchered chickens. I drove home with dried chicken blood spatter on my arms and jeans, feeling like I had conquered a big dread of mine.

Today, we went to visit an old friend and had some fun on the shooting range. Yup. It's been a pretty good week...

Another Bird Story

I don't know what to do. Having the shop's garage doors open during the summer is almost a necessity. The kids love to play and ride their bikes in there, and Chris and I are in and out with tools non-stop. But there is a small problem. And I mean small. Hummingbirds wander in to the shop, then because the ceiling is higher than the doors, they can't seem to find their way out. If a bird gets lost in the shop, my standard trick is to put a hummingbird feeder on top of a tall ladder in the doorway. If the bird sees the feeder, it will head toward it, then be able to find its way out. If it doesn't see the feeder, then the bird wears itself out and ends up dead by the end of the day. I hate that.

Today, the kids wanted to play in the shop, so I opened the doors halfway, hoping that would deter any birds from wandering in. One got in anyway. I set up the feeder on the ladder, and after supper, I went to check to see if the bird was still in there. I found it sitting on the floor, nearly comatose. Afraid to pick it up (they are so tiny) I got Chris to come out and help me. He picked it up and we tried to dip its beak in some sugar water. It didn't seem to get it, so we put it on the tailgate of the truck and I sat with a drip of sugarwater on the end of my finger in the hopes it might accidently get a taste and perk up.

For a long while it didn't move much, but eventually it looked like it might have swallowed some, and a few times I actually saw its tongue come out and lick at the droplet. He seemed to perk up a bit and since it was time to get the kid in bed, I moved it to a towel on the porch with the feeder close by. An hour later, and it is gone. I'm going to check and make sure it flew off and didn't get snatched by a cat...

Are you my Mother?

A couple days ago, we noticed a fledgling mockingbird sitting beneath one of the trees in the back yard. Finley was worried about it and wanted to find a cage to put it in and try to feed it. I told her it was probably fine (although I was worried the cats might discover and kill it). So after examining it for a minute, Finley put it back down. Immediately, it ran out into the yard, and Finley followed to make sure it was okay. Suddenly, mama and papa bird swooped down from the trees and flew at Finley making her scream and rush back to cover, and I had a good laugh.

(If you look closely at the bird, it had some long, fluffy feathers around the crown of its head making it look like a balding old man.)

If you hear me scream...

Looks like Z and I need to be extra careful when we check for eggs now. I found this four-foot snake skin behind the shop this morning. Also, I need to make sure I know where the axe is.

On second thought, it might not be bad to have this one around as long as he doesn't find the eggs... I'd be happy to spare its life if it would help put a dent in the mole population.

The Garden

The garden is looking pretty good so far this year.

My goal is to get out and weed a little bit every day, even if it is just for a few minutes, and pull at least one weed every time I walk into the garden. Last year, I would neglet the weeds for days at a time, and things quickly got out of control. It did help to have a good tiller on hand to re-till a section before I planted. I just wish I had enough compost to cover the bare sections of soil...

Here is a shot of the beans sprouting along the fence and my nice row of potatoes...

I really need to get some new chicken wire (or something) up along the neighbor's pasture fence. There is some old chicken wire put up years ago to keep the goats from getting their heads stuck there. The previous owners of our place had some dogs that would have eaten the face off a goat... But now that chicken wire is falling apart, and the chickens can come right in. I suspect that one of them is responsible for uprooting my pepper plant, and once the tomatoes start producing, I'll definitely need better help keeping them out.

My blueberries seem to be doing well, and the raspberries are really starting to take off. But my home-made soaker hose hasn't worked as well as I had hoped. I started poking holes in it with a diaper pin, but that started to bend, so I ended up using a utility knife. The diaper pin holes tend to reseal themselves, and some of the utility knife hole blast the water out... So before I cave and buy more soaker hose, I think I'll try some poking some holes with a drill and bit and turning the water low so the pressure isn't too great.  I really need to get my watering systems down if this summer turns out to be as beastly as I think it will be. It is the beginning of May, and already the grass is crunchy.