Livestock count:
10 barred rock hens
7 assorted chickens (3 roosters, 4 hens)
1 peahen (looking for a peacock if you are out there and in the austin area)
7 guinea chicks (all hens --- at least that's what was promised)
8 goats (3 adults, 4 kids with moms and 1 kid with Mike as mom)
3 cats
1 dog
--
total count: 37.
April 29th -- Kristi writes: Well, Mike's gone and done it, given me a birthday present that few of you would ever even consider. Seven Guineas. No, not the monetary kind, the cute (until grown) kind that will wind up being our main source for grasshopper control (I hope). We picked them up last night and the little buggers won my heart -- squeaking their joy and picking at each others' feet. One of them picked up another guinea's foot as I watched... I think it must have looked like food. The squawking was noted by all except the one whose mouth was full of the other's foot.
Mike set up the brooder box, lid off, inside the chicken coop he built almost two years ago. This chicken coop is self-contained, stands on four posts and the 'ground floor' is about hip height. We painted the coop with the same colors used on our last house. In the barnyard, it IS the only thing that seems a little out of place for how nice it is. Mike put a heat lamp in the box, having first removed the pole on the side of the brooder box because it wouldn't fit into the coop. We found some cedar chips and a used feed bag and lined the box with them. I put the water container in, realizing that it was going to be filled with cedar chips and then I decided that it was necessary to elevate the container to avoid such things. I found a piece of flat concrete and stuck it underneath the waterer. All is well in Guinea world right now. We will probably move the chicken coop that contains said birds into the garden areas where the guineas can have an all-you-can eat bug buffet.
Our biggest cat, Eatz, was awfully curious about the little peeping sounds coming out of this coop and hung around, ears wide open and eyes highly attentive. Luckily, the coop closes safely and latches.
We prepped an area to start growing peppers, as we have over 130 tomato plants in progress in the fields and that's way too many. I need to plant more cilantro and put the peppers that are a few inches high, into the soil. It's time. We finally planted the watermelons in a mound -- although it looks funny and something out of Close Encounters of the Weird Kind.
A new, almost nightly ritual will be to un-hooter (for non-Texans, that means 'fix') our dog, Barbecue, by brushing all the stickerburs out of her coat. She's a magnet for them, with long white hair and a predisposition for rolling in the grass. We all should be so lucky.
The worm problem in the kitchen herb garden seems to be temporarily gone and this is a good thing, as I was about to wage a chemical war on the whole backyard. However, I used BT, a product that is a natural worm killer (doesn't bother earthworms). It's organic and works miracles. Mike sprayed the trees with this stuff two weekends ago and I think all the worms fell onto the herb garden from an oak that bends its branches toward the house.
We still have at least one goldfish left in the pond, but because of the algae and the lilypads, we can't really tell how many are in there. I'm hoping there's more than one and none of them have floated to the top, but we DO have cats and there are lots of birds hereabouts, so it would be surprising to see more than one. We started with eight tiny goldfish and the one we have been seeing seems to be about 3 inches long, so far. Who knows...
Life is good.
April 26th - Mike writes: The chickens are done. Finally. Last weekend was supposed to be dedicated to planting veggies but there were 6 chickens left to slaughter. They can't wait, SO..... We axed them and then set our sites on the roosters. The roosters are a problem. We have 5 roosters to go with 4 laying hens. The Barred Rock hens don't count here because they are not yet mature. For the number of hens we have 1 rooster is more than enough so we have too many. The traditional way to solve this problem is to make stock of the birds. Since we had our canner set up, the stock pots ready and the "processing" area set up we made our choice. Time for the roosters to go. The challange now is to catch them. Kristi got the net and some corn and we went hunting. Two we caught fairly easily. A big black roo with yellow fringe, pretty and useless. We had gotten used to how the Cornish hens reacted to being caught. A little flapping and little else. Well, the roo was different. Kristi put the footcuffs on him and I hung him gently from the 2x2 that is above the buckets that the blood drips onto. At this point the roo reminded us that he can still fly by flapping up to perch on the 2x2. Oops. This act hastened his end and as he hung there dripping we went in for another bird. After all we do these chickens by twos. We caught one of the annoying little Napoleons and he joined the other bird hanging. They got processesed and into the icebox with them. We set our sites on the remaining 3 males and went after them. Kristi caught one in the goat shed and I lost it trying to untangle it from the net. It ran off into the woods to live another day. After this fun we called an end to chasing roosters for the day. More stock was set to simmer
Friday, April 29, 2005
Friday, April 22, 2005
Taking Stock
Yesterday, I canned 21 quarts of chicken stock -- using parts and pieces of the birds we slaughtered on Wednesay (10) as well as the others from the weekend (24 birds). Chicken feet, necks and various parts... taking care not to put the chicken livers or the gizzards in, although both of these parts on the birds are huge. These parts tend to foul the fowl.
We also did the packing of the birds --using a foodsaver system that seems to work well in vacuum-packing the birds, even the huge ones that seemed too big. So now, we have 32 birds in the freezer (I gave away two to someone who has cancer and shouldn't be eating anything that's not grown properly) -- some of these birds are in parts and pieces. One day soon I'll again have a taste for chicken, but it 'is not this day!'
The corn is getting larger and we're going to have to find a way to keep the patch of dirt weeded until the stalks grow tall enough to block out the sunlight to the errant grasses and such that wants to grow faster than the plants themselves.
We have much to do, much to do. Most of the plants are too big for the greenhouse, now, so there is a chance a lot of the gourds, watermelons, peppers, (the rest of the) tomatos, flowers, etc... will not make it when transplanted. This is, however, year 1 and I look at everything as an experiment, a version One Point Oh, so to speak.
Too tired to type. As Frost said, "We have miles and miles to go before we sleep."
And so we do.
And so we do.
We also did the packing of the birds --using a foodsaver system that seems to work well in vacuum-packing the birds, even the huge ones that seemed too big. So now, we have 32 birds in the freezer (I gave away two to someone who has cancer and shouldn't be eating anything that's not grown properly) -- some of these birds are in parts and pieces. One day soon I'll again have a taste for chicken, but it 'is not this day!'
The corn is getting larger and we're going to have to find a way to keep the patch of dirt weeded until the stalks grow tall enough to block out the sunlight to the errant grasses and such that wants to grow faster than the plants themselves.
We have much to do, much to do. Most of the plants are too big for the greenhouse, now, so there is a chance a lot of the gourds, watermelons, peppers, (the rest of the) tomatos, flowers, etc... will not make it when transplanted. This is, however, year 1 and I look at everything as an experiment, a version One Point Oh, so to speak.
Too tired to type. As Frost said, "We have miles and miles to go before we sleep."
And so we do.
And so we do.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
More chickens and corn and dogs and work and stuf
10 more chickens met their doom last night. We're getting more efficient at this. Sunday we "harvested" 24 of our Cornish Cross meat birds between 10:00 and 7:00. Wednesday we did in 10 chickens in a little over two hours after work. We started by going to the grocery store for ice and some groceries. We got some sandwiches as we didn't feel like we'd be wanting to cook after "taking care of" the chickens. We were right. While Kristi brought out the hot water and fastened the feed bags that we use for collecting feathers and offal, I collected a couple of chickens from the barn, tied on our fancy footnooses and hung the birds over a couple of buckets. I promptly set the birds to bleeding out. This takes a few minutes and I could help Kristi get the ice in the buckets and coolers, filling up clean water dunking buckets, getting my eviscerate tray and knives etc. We got to it in ernest just as the thunder started. Kristi kept saying "it isn't going to rain". I don't know if she really has a sense about these things or if she just makes it up but she was more or less right. It only rained a little and not enough to soak our clothing. So now we're in production. Kristi dunks the now dead bird in the hot water for half a minute and then we commence plucking. I help her pluck until the first bird is feather free, then I start "cleaning out" the chicken. Once the innards are gone the bird is cleaned up and put on ice. I also culled the defective bird that I should have done 2 months ago. Live and learn. This chicken had a bad spinal curvature and could only walk in counterclockwise circles. It would have been better off if I had killed it and not wasted the feed. So now we have 6 birds left to process, but not tonight. Tonight's fun will be a final rinse and then vacuum packing and freezing.
Also on tonight's agenda is taking Barbecue, the dog to the vets. She is going to be celebrating her 6 month birthday by getting spayed. No more stray males hanging around like the last 2 weeks. We'll water the plants that need it, walk around and look at our fruit trees and if there's time, I'll mow the backyard as the weeds are almost knee high.
In other news, the corn is up! Hundreds of little corn plants are up as high as and inch and a half already. We planted them a week ago with the help of Kristi's seeder. This is a gadget that has 2 wheels and a seed holder. It makes a small furrow in tilled soil, drops a seed every so many inches, covers the seed with dirt and marks the next row as a guide. Nice tool. If we'd had to do it with a hoe it would have taken hours. Once the plants have grown a little more and the rows are clearly defined I'll put down soaker hoses for more efficient watering.
This weekend will be a vegetable intensive one. We have more tomatoes, peppers, watermelons, potatoes, squash and beans to get in the ground. Many are too big in the greenhouse already. So it will be a tilling and crawling around on our knees kind of weekend. This is what we signed up for in living here and we can hardly wait. Weird huh?
Also on tonight's agenda is taking Barbecue, the dog to the vets. She is going to be celebrating her 6 month birthday by getting spayed. No more stray males hanging around like the last 2 weeks. We'll water the plants that need it, walk around and look at our fruit trees and if there's time, I'll mow the backyard as the weeds are almost knee high.
In other news, the corn is up! Hundreds of little corn plants are up as high as and inch and a half already. We planted them a week ago with the help of Kristi's seeder. This is a gadget that has 2 wheels and a seed holder. It makes a small furrow in tilled soil, drops a seed every so many inches, covers the seed with dirt and marks the next row as a guide. Nice tool. If we'd had to do it with a hoe it would have taken hours. Once the plants have grown a little more and the rows are clearly defined I'll put down soaker hoses for more efficient watering.
This weekend will be a vegetable intensive one. We have more tomatoes, peppers, watermelons, potatoes, squash and beans to get in the ground. Many are too big in the greenhouse already. So it will be a tilling and crawling around on our knees kind of weekend. This is what we signed up for in living here and we can hardly wait. Weird huh?
Monday, April 18, 2005
the squawk about the slaughter
This past weekend has been a bit of a crazy one. Two poetry readings and then a chicken 'harvesting' (Mike says that's the PC way of saying 'slaughter'.) Also planted 34 more tomato plants.
But, then again, it's a typical weekend... working our asses off (isn't we supposed to be havin' a fiesta!) and making something of ourselves.
Then... there's the dog. The dog. No, not Barbecue, the other one. The one that's gone, now. The one that, when it saw my pellet gun aimed at its head, knew what it was and high-tailed it... a few times. But it always came back. Like I said, we were butchering chickens and Barbecue is in heat. These two seemingly disparate things are brought together by the fact that the stray dog not only had a piece of ass, but was looking to have some of that wonderful chicken flesh, as well.
Ah, the chicken slaughtering... errr, the butchering... errr, the HARVESTING process. What a thing this is. We went to Home Despot on Friday seeking a solution to the hanging of the chickens (upside down) so that they could bleed out. We bought these very expensive little doohickeys to do just that, but then Mike stayed up that night and figured out another way. And it was a better way. Slip knots on twine. Cheap, better, best, really.
But I'm the knot-maker, having come from a fishing background where, if it wasn't tied, tied up or tied down, it was gone in the wind or the water. I also had a fascination for crocheting as a kid, a hobby I was glad to give up for poetry or something else less useful. Nonetheless, the skill of tying knots has remained and so I did this. It was a trade-off. I did the knots, Mike did the evisceration of the chickens. I also plucked most of them and packed them in coolers and such.
On Saturday morning, I swear, I think we were both stalling and then we had to purchase ice (never do this from a convenience store) for which we paid a fortune. The second load of ice that Mike had to go get was a lot cheaper from the local grocery chain. We set everything up and started around 9:30. We did in 24 chickens from then until 4:30 in the afternoon, taking just a few breaks and getting rained on from time to time. Luckily, it was light rain and didn't last for very long. The goats hung around all morning and most of the afternoon, very curious about what we were doing. At one point, the main rooster strutted up to the table and squawked, seeing that two chickens were hanging upside down. He quickly returned to the barnyard and we didn't see him for another hour.
As the chickens hung upside-down, Mike slit their throats and let them bleed out into buckets - usually about a few tablespoons per bird. And these are LARGE birds. We fed them well.
The chickens, once upside-down, flapped around a while and I waited until they died then put them, one at a time, into the very hot water. We kept the burners on in the kitchen the whole day so that we would have a constant supply of hot water. Without the hot water, the feathers are extremely difficult to remove.
We did in two at a time, thinking that we would be able to handle five or six, but two was plenty. Mike would grab them out of the chicken area, bring them into the side yard where a ladder, a long table, buckets of ice and coolers were. I put the slipknots over their legs and tightened them, then he hung them over the buckets on a board attached to the ladder. It's funny, but after a while, the chickens stopped running to him when he would enter the coop area. Usually, he is the one who feeds them and they are HAPPY that he is there, but when he started removing them two at a time, I think they got suspicious. At least, as suspicious as they could get having little tiny chicken brains.
After we plucked them, Mike took the bile duct and anus out, then the lungs and the other parts of the chicken. He cut the head off and then when he was done, threw the main carcass into a bucket of ice, put the head and chicken feet into the same bucket and the liver and gizzards into a pot with ice.
After this was all done, we cleaned up and I used the feathers for my compost as well as the heavy blood in the buckets. Mike cleaned all the buckets up and I put things away.
We have a friend who is a little squeamish about the killing part, but I have to say that when Mike would slit their throats, he would say that he is sorry. Is that better?
My compost is happy and will be MUCH happier when we are done with the rest of the chickens (16 left to 'harvest') -- this means I get to have all the good poop from their area for my compost. The temperature of the pile was such that it was beginning to burn the stuff at the bottom. This is when you know the heat is there and the compost is working.
However, during the day, the whole 'harvesting' process left us not so hungry for lunch (each of us ate a half sandwich). It wasn't so bad after the first few chickens, but we ate dinner out that night. Mike had chicken flautas, but I couldn't stand the thought of it and had enchiladas. They had no chicken in them. It may be a while... at least for me. But the cornish crosses, after all that, look exactly like the chickens you get at the grocery store. And I know these don't have 'water added' and they are disease free. It won't take long before I get used to the idea of eating them again.
Such a graceful Saturday with planting tomatoes and so civilized at a poetry reading and then... SAVAGE SLAUGHTER of HELPLESS BEASTS! Really.. this is our life. The graceful and the grateful, the seedless and the seediness, the growth of new things and the death of others. Sometimes I wonder if it gets any better than this.
But, then again, it's a typical weekend... working our asses off (isn't we supposed to be havin' a fiesta!) and making something of ourselves.
Then... there's the dog. The dog. No, not Barbecue, the other one. The one that's gone, now. The one that, when it saw my pellet gun aimed at its head, knew what it was and high-tailed it... a few times. But it always came back. Like I said, we were butchering chickens and Barbecue is in heat. These two seemingly disparate things are brought together by the fact that the stray dog not only had a piece of ass, but was looking to have some of that wonderful chicken flesh, as well.
Ah, the chicken slaughtering... errr, the butchering... errr, the HARVESTING process. What a thing this is. We went to Home Despot on Friday seeking a solution to the hanging of the chickens (upside down) so that they could bleed out. We bought these very expensive little doohickeys to do just that, but then Mike stayed up that night and figured out another way. And it was a better way. Slip knots on twine. Cheap, better, best, really.
But I'm the knot-maker, having come from a fishing background where, if it wasn't tied, tied up or tied down, it was gone in the wind or the water. I also had a fascination for crocheting as a kid, a hobby I was glad to give up for poetry or something else less useful. Nonetheless, the skill of tying knots has remained and so I did this. It was a trade-off. I did the knots, Mike did the evisceration of the chickens. I also plucked most of them and packed them in coolers and such.
On Saturday morning, I swear, I think we were both stalling and then we had to purchase ice (never do this from a convenience store) for which we paid a fortune. The second load of ice that Mike had to go get was a lot cheaper from the local grocery chain. We set everything up and started around 9:30. We did in 24 chickens from then until 4:30 in the afternoon, taking just a few breaks and getting rained on from time to time. Luckily, it was light rain and didn't last for very long. The goats hung around all morning and most of the afternoon, very curious about what we were doing. At one point, the main rooster strutted up to the table and squawked, seeing that two chickens were hanging upside down. He quickly returned to the barnyard and we didn't see him for another hour.
As the chickens hung upside-down, Mike slit their throats and let them bleed out into buckets - usually about a few tablespoons per bird. And these are LARGE birds. We fed them well.
The chickens, once upside-down, flapped around a while and I waited until they died then put them, one at a time, into the very hot water. We kept the burners on in the kitchen the whole day so that we would have a constant supply of hot water. Without the hot water, the feathers are extremely difficult to remove.
We did in two at a time, thinking that we would be able to handle five or six, but two was plenty. Mike would grab them out of the chicken area, bring them into the side yard where a ladder, a long table, buckets of ice and coolers were. I put the slipknots over their legs and tightened them, then he hung them over the buckets on a board attached to the ladder. It's funny, but after a while, the chickens stopped running to him when he would enter the coop area. Usually, he is the one who feeds them and they are HAPPY that he is there, but when he started removing them two at a time, I think they got suspicious. At least, as suspicious as they could get having little tiny chicken brains.
After we plucked them, Mike took the bile duct and anus out, then the lungs and the other parts of the chicken. He cut the head off and then when he was done, threw the main carcass into a bucket of ice, put the head and chicken feet into the same bucket and the liver and gizzards into a pot with ice.
After this was all done, we cleaned up and I used the feathers for my compost as well as the heavy blood in the buckets. Mike cleaned all the buckets up and I put things away.
We have a friend who is a little squeamish about the killing part, but I have to say that when Mike would slit their throats, he would say that he is sorry. Is that better?
My compost is happy and will be MUCH happier when we are done with the rest of the chickens (16 left to 'harvest') -- this means I get to have all the good poop from their area for my compost. The temperature of the pile was such that it was beginning to burn the stuff at the bottom. This is when you know the heat is there and the compost is working.
However, during the day, the whole 'harvesting' process left us not so hungry for lunch (each of us ate a half sandwich). It wasn't so bad after the first few chickens, but we ate dinner out that night. Mike had chicken flautas, but I couldn't stand the thought of it and had enchiladas. They had no chicken in them. It may be a while... at least for me. But the cornish crosses, after all that, look exactly like the chickens you get at the grocery store. And I know these don't have 'water added' and they are disease free. It won't take long before I get used to the idea of eating them again.
Such a graceful Saturday with planting tomatoes and so civilized at a poetry reading and then... SAVAGE SLAUGHTER of HELPLESS BEASTS! Really.. this is our life. The graceful and the grateful, the seedless and the seediness, the growth of new things and the death of others. Sometimes I wonder if it gets any better than this.
Monday, April 04, 2005
From the other one...
I don't often get a chance to write or to voice my side of what we're doing out here on our Texas Farm, so it's time.
It's been a long weekend and I'm feeling it -- sunburned, sore muscled and tired beyond reason. But it's been a good weekend. I tilled the corn patch so that I would know how much room we'd have for other things... Mike thinks it's too big and I think it's too small. We are planning on using the corn to feed us as well as the all the livestock.
I also planted the asparagus, although it may be too late -- not seasonally too late, but the asparagus seems to be dead.. maybe it's dormant, but we bought it from Home Despot and believe me, they don't have the finest quality items. However, the guy from Bonnie Farms showed up at our little Bastrop Home Despot this past weekend and I found out that they have 17 greenhouses in Beeville and the rest of them are mostly in Alabama. The accent the guy was carrying kind of gave away the fact that he was from AL, too. At least the plants in our little Home Despot were grown in Texas. This makes me feel a little better.
Our compost isn't big enough for all the things we want to do with it and it's just now heating up properly. Massive amounts of coffee grounds as well as some organic fertilizer will hopefully restart the decomposition process.
The worms, formerly in our guest bathroom, are now in the compost area, but still in the plastic box I used to grow them. They're red worms. Good for loosening the dirt around plants and making wonderful, wonderful vermicultured compost. Black dirt.. texas tea... oh, don't get me started.
Today I will probably finish tilling in the composted leaves from our acreage that's forested. The tilling will be done in the corn area and maybe I can plant, now.
I still have a greenhouse full of plants but have not had time to put them into the soil. The soil temperature is about right at the moment and there won't really be any better time to do this.
I planted a bunch of dill in an area between the back yard and the shed -- as well as some catnip for which, I think, my cats will be truly grateful. I snipped some off and watched them all roll around happily drunk in the dirt. Silly cats.
The dog.. oh, the dog. Grrrr... If only she could not be so... dogged! She's really sweet, though.
And now the chickens are too big, so we might be doing some chicken killin' this evening. It depends on how each of our days have been and whether we're up to the chore tonight. Otherwise, the corn's goin' in. That's all there is to it.
Mike is NOT my slave... he does what he wants to do and that's all there is to THAT!
Now... where's my whip?
Signed --
The OTHER farmer at this location.
It's been a long weekend and I'm feeling it -- sunburned, sore muscled and tired beyond reason. But it's been a good weekend. I tilled the corn patch so that I would know how much room we'd have for other things... Mike thinks it's too big and I think it's too small. We are planning on using the corn to feed us as well as the all the livestock.
I also planted the asparagus, although it may be too late -- not seasonally too late, but the asparagus seems to be dead.. maybe it's dormant, but we bought it from Home Despot and believe me, they don't have the finest quality items. However, the guy from Bonnie Farms showed up at our little Bastrop Home Despot this past weekend and I found out that they have 17 greenhouses in Beeville and the rest of them are mostly in Alabama. The accent the guy was carrying kind of gave away the fact that he was from AL, too. At least the plants in our little Home Despot were grown in Texas. This makes me feel a little better.
Our compost isn't big enough for all the things we want to do with it and it's just now heating up properly. Massive amounts of coffee grounds as well as some organic fertilizer will hopefully restart the decomposition process.
The worms, formerly in our guest bathroom, are now in the compost area, but still in the plastic box I used to grow them. They're red worms. Good for loosening the dirt around plants and making wonderful, wonderful vermicultured compost. Black dirt.. texas tea... oh, don't get me started.
Today I will probably finish tilling in the composted leaves from our acreage that's forested. The tilling will be done in the corn area and maybe I can plant, now.
I still have a greenhouse full of plants but have not had time to put them into the soil. The soil temperature is about right at the moment and there won't really be any better time to do this.
I planted a bunch of dill in an area between the back yard and the shed -- as well as some catnip for which, I think, my cats will be truly grateful. I snipped some off and watched them all roll around happily drunk in the dirt. Silly cats.
The dog.. oh, the dog. Grrrr... If only she could not be so... dogged! She's really sweet, though.
And now the chickens are too big, so we might be doing some chicken killin' this evening. It depends on how each of our days have been and whether we're up to the chore tonight. Otherwise, the corn's goin' in. That's all there is to it.
Mike is NOT my slave... he does what he wants to do and that's all there is to THAT!
Now... where's my whip?
Signed --
The OTHER farmer at this location.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
A hail of a night
A long day at work followed by....
I get home and find that the Cornish cross chickens are in distress. They have food and water but both could use freshening. It is also 81 degrees and the barn is somewhat warmer. I opened the rear barn door for ventilation. The chickens are now happily occupied eating and drinking. I can move on. I check the trap, nothing. Did I mention the 2 squirrels and 1 small possum we caught in the last week? Probably not. It's been hectic.
After my usual look around I knew what project I wanted to work on today. Kristi has been hinting around (get this done NOW or else) that I get the watering system for the garden installed. I looked at the sad condition of many of our tomato plants and select this project for immediate attention. I grab my favorite shovel and a pair of gloves and march across the field. I take note that there are still some worms on the apricot tree and that I should do something about them. I continued on to the field. I begin digging about 7 feet from the end of the now worthless trench. My muscles twinge a bit looking over the chasm. But I continue on. I will get this one thing done today and make Kristi happy. Not that she needs help, I just imagine that this will make her happy. It will save her labor and that is a good thing. She does so much. I start digging where I think the main water line will be and sure enough after a few minutes I find the pipe. Right where it should be. I commenced removing the dirt and rocks from around the pipe to give wide access to it as I needed to add a number of fittings to accomplish the task. I have not yet purchased any fittings. In retrospect I might have been more thoughtful of the long day I'd had at work. I was tired and my aim could have been better. I might also, with better attention to my common sense, told myself that I shouldn't tackle a project involving our main water line into the house when I am tired. But I didn't do any of those things and instead I hit the water line squarely with the shovel and was so surprised when the pressurized water sprayed out that I left my mouth hanging open. It took 2 hours to remove all the grit. Meanwhile the hold is filling rapidly with water. Thinking with adrenaline driven clarity I ran for the water shut off at the street. With the water off I could take my time to fix the problem. I had exactly 15 minutes before Kristi was to come home from work. She would notice we had no water, I was sure of that. I was equally sure it would not go well for me when she found out. I began figuring out what pieces we would need for the watering system and what we would need to solve the immediate problem.
At this point I should mention the upcoming storm.
All day the weather forecasters were predicting severe weather in the afternoon. Yeah right, I said as I always do. They're always wrong. Well, they were right the time I had the tornado blow past me about 300 feet away. Tractor trailer rigs blown over, electronic signs exploding in showers of sparks. Trees uprooted and snapped off at the trunk. It took me 4 hours complete my 30 minute commute that night. I'll give them that one.
So we go to Home Depot and get the parts. In the meantime I get to hear the life's story of the plumbing guy who owns 25 acres in Red Rock and how he planted a hedge of red tipped photinias to prevent the dust that is prevalent on his caliche road. Nice guy. I was on a nature inspired deadline. I got the parts I needed and headed home. I drove the truck directly to the site of the leak as I wanted to have the house water back on before the storm hit. At this point the leading edge of the storm had not quite made it to us. You could see the huge front moving our way. You could hear the thunder in the distance but no rain yet. No lightning yet.
Work commenced. I cut out the section of pipe that had burst. Hmmmm, schedule 125 PVC. For a main water line you would think they'd step up to the thicker schedule 40 but they opted to save a very few bucks. Working quickly I fashioned a tee and a bit of 1" pipe and a coupling and check it for fit. It's long enough. I smear on the primer and the glue and....uh oh. With the pipe buried in the ground there's not enough play to bend the pipe so it will slip into the socket. In the process of bending and trying to make it fit I have damaged the thin walled main pipe and need to fashion another piece to fix it. The thunder is getting closer.
Working in close proximity to the ground in Texas is an invitation for a visit by our state's foreign invaders. Fire ants. Pesky little things. They attack anything that moves. They attack anything made of animal or vegetable matter. The active ingredient in fire ants is formic acid. They chew it into your flesh and then it begins to dissolve you. You get a nice welt out of the attack and if you noticed it at the time of the bite, hopefully the fire ant is dead. But you still get the welts. They were in my shirt, on my arms and legs. But I couldn't stop. We HAD to have water. I make version 2 of my pipe patch.
The thunder is closer and I could see the sky brighten with the lightning. I had plenty of time. But before I can use my patch I have to increase the size of my hole so I can bend the pipe enough to get the fittings to fit. Feverishly I dig out the hole. I dig out about another one and a half feet. Plenty I said. Back in the hole now I glue my fittings. I fit them into each other. Oops. Won't fit. I can't bend the pipe up enough to get the two ends to go into each other. As I am pulling up on the pipe, my feet go up in the air. I can hear Kristi laughing in the distance as she's watering her plants. Somehow, this doesn't help.
Finally I get the two ends to fit perfectly. I being loading the truck with the tools and leftover parts. I sent Kristi up to the street in her golf cart to turn the water on. It works! No leaks.Then the wind starts and in about 10 minutes the storm is upon us. I shower the ants off but it still feels like they're biting me for 2 more hours. This turns out to be a heck of a storm with up to 3/4 inch hail. Poor Barbecue is running around in it barking at it. The barking doesn't help and I give her a bone to help calm her down. It works. Kristi and I share a hamburger for dinner commiserating about the likely state of the vegetable garden after the hail. A picture of the hail will follow.
I get home and find that the Cornish cross chickens are in distress. They have food and water but both could use freshening. It is also 81 degrees and the barn is somewhat warmer. I opened the rear barn door for ventilation. The chickens are now happily occupied eating and drinking. I can move on. I check the trap, nothing. Did I mention the 2 squirrels and 1 small possum we caught in the last week? Probably not. It's been hectic.
After my usual look around I knew what project I wanted to work on today. Kristi has been hinting around (get this done NOW or else) that I get the watering system for the garden installed. I looked at the sad condition of many of our tomato plants and select this project for immediate attention. I grab my favorite shovel and a pair of gloves and march across the field. I take note that there are still some worms on the apricot tree and that I should do something about them. I continued on to the field. I begin digging about 7 feet from the end of the now worthless trench. My muscles twinge a bit looking over the chasm. But I continue on. I will get this one thing done today and make Kristi happy. Not that she needs help, I just imagine that this will make her happy. It will save her labor and that is a good thing. She does so much. I start digging where I think the main water line will be and sure enough after a few minutes I find the pipe. Right where it should be. I commenced removing the dirt and rocks from around the pipe to give wide access to it as I needed to add a number of fittings to accomplish the task. I have not yet purchased any fittings. In retrospect I might have been more thoughtful of the long day I'd had at work. I was tired and my aim could have been better. I might also, with better attention to my common sense, told myself that I shouldn't tackle a project involving our main water line into the house when I am tired. But I didn't do any of those things and instead I hit the water line squarely with the shovel and was so surprised when the pressurized water sprayed out that I left my mouth hanging open. It took 2 hours to remove all the grit. Meanwhile the hold is filling rapidly with water. Thinking with adrenaline driven clarity I ran for the water shut off at the street. With the water off I could take my time to fix the problem. I had exactly 15 minutes before Kristi was to come home from work. She would notice we had no water, I was sure of that. I was equally sure it would not go well for me when she found out. I began figuring out what pieces we would need for the watering system and what we would need to solve the immediate problem.
At this point I should mention the upcoming storm.
All day the weather forecasters were predicting severe weather in the afternoon. Yeah right, I said as I always do. They're always wrong. Well, they were right the time I had the tornado blow past me about 300 feet away. Tractor trailer rigs blown over, electronic signs exploding in showers of sparks. Trees uprooted and snapped off at the trunk. It took me 4 hours complete my 30 minute commute that night. I'll give them that one.
So we go to Home Depot and get the parts. In the meantime I get to hear the life's story of the plumbing guy who owns 25 acres in Red Rock and how he planted a hedge of red tipped photinias to prevent the dust that is prevalent on his caliche road. Nice guy. I was on a nature inspired deadline. I got the parts I needed and headed home. I drove the truck directly to the site of the leak as I wanted to have the house water back on before the storm hit. At this point the leading edge of the storm had not quite made it to us. You could see the huge front moving our way. You could hear the thunder in the distance but no rain yet. No lightning yet.
Work commenced. I cut out the section of pipe that had burst. Hmmmm, schedule 125 PVC. For a main water line you would think they'd step up to the thicker schedule 40 but they opted to save a very few bucks. Working quickly I fashioned a tee and a bit of 1" pipe and a coupling and check it for fit. It's long enough. I smear on the primer and the glue and....uh oh. With the pipe buried in the ground there's not enough play to bend the pipe so it will slip into the socket. In the process of bending and trying to make it fit I have damaged the thin walled main pipe and need to fashion another piece to fix it. The thunder is getting closer.
Working in close proximity to the ground in Texas is an invitation for a visit by our state's foreign invaders. Fire ants. Pesky little things. They attack anything that moves. They attack anything made of animal or vegetable matter. The active ingredient in fire ants is formic acid. They chew it into your flesh and then it begins to dissolve you. You get a nice welt out of the attack and if you noticed it at the time of the bite, hopefully the fire ant is dead. But you still get the welts. They were in my shirt, on my arms and legs. But I couldn't stop. We HAD to have water. I make version 2 of my pipe patch.
The thunder is closer and I could see the sky brighten with the lightning. I had plenty of time. But before I can use my patch I have to increase the size of my hole so I can bend the pipe enough to get the fittings to fit. Feverishly I dig out the hole. I dig out about another one and a half feet. Plenty I said. Back in the hole now I glue my fittings. I fit them into each other. Oops. Won't fit. I can't bend the pipe up enough to get the two ends to go into each other. As I am pulling up on the pipe, my feet go up in the air. I can hear Kristi laughing in the distance as she's watering her plants. Somehow, this doesn't help.
Finally I get the two ends to fit perfectly. I being loading the truck with the tools and leftover parts. I sent Kristi up to the street in her golf cart to turn the water on. It works! No leaks.Then the wind starts and in about 10 minutes the storm is upon us. I shower the ants off but it still feels like they're biting me for 2 more hours. This turns out to be a heck of a storm with up to 3/4 inch hail. Poor Barbecue is running around in it barking at it. The barking doesn't help and I give her a bone to help calm her down. It works. Kristi and I share a hamburger for dinner commiserating about the likely state of the vegetable garden after the hail. A picture of the hail will follow.
We've added some livestock recently. 8 goldfish from Wal-Mart (trademark R) we had been talking about adding some fish to our lovely pond for some time. The fish might help keep the algae from growing rampant and provide some visual interest. While the pond is not large, it is big enough that it's rare to ever see a fish. Kristi saw one yestereday so we know there is at least one left alive. Since this is one of Barbecue's favorite watering holes, there is a little doubt about the long term survival of the fish. Barbecue's method of getting a drink is to first get into the pond and then commence drinking. You don't want Barbecue in your lap after she's had a drink.
Our Cornish hens are getting near to slaughtering size. I have to remember to take a scale out to the barn soon. We've lost 2 in the last couple of days. To what we don't know. They all seemed healthy, but these 2 just keeled over on their backs dead. They have been buried between the boxwoods. We expect the boxwoods are going to grow like crazy or get feathers.
This morning I went out to feed and water the Cornish chickens, Barred rock chickens and the Motley Crew bunch of chickens and it finally happened. The Motley Crew and the peahen all sleep in the rafters of the barn. I've mentioned this before. When I go into the barn I look up to see where everybody is sleeping. That way I can avoid walking directly underneath any bird. I had a bucket of feed for the Cornish Crosses, checked overhead and the peahen was directly above the gate. I had opened the gate and stepped over the chickens that are always along the fence when it happend. The peahen unloaded, hitting the gate and my fingers. I just know she did that intentionally. She's probably been laughing about that all morning.
Last weekend my task was to bring water to Kristi's vegetable garden. We have a water spigot about 2/3 of the way out in the front yard. So my plan was to dig a trench from the spigot to the garden and extend the pipe. I dug a great trench. It was 14 inches deep, 12 inches wide and 80 feet long. This was HARD work. I started with my mighty Mantis rototiller and softened things up and scooped the dirt out with shovels. 6 feet before the planned end of the trench, I found the main water supply line for the house. So 2 days of hard labor was for naught. Now I have to fill in my trench and then build the water system for the garden. It's supposed to rain today.
Our Cornish hens are getting near to slaughtering size. I have to remember to take a scale out to the barn soon. We've lost 2 in the last couple of days. To what we don't know. They all seemed healthy, but these 2 just keeled over on their backs dead. They have been buried between the boxwoods. We expect the boxwoods are going to grow like crazy or get feathers.
This morning I went out to feed and water the Cornish chickens, Barred rock chickens and the Motley Crew bunch of chickens and it finally happened. The Motley Crew and the peahen all sleep in the rafters of the barn. I've mentioned this before. When I go into the barn I look up to see where everybody is sleeping. That way I can avoid walking directly underneath any bird. I had a bucket of feed for the Cornish Crosses, checked overhead and the peahen was directly above the gate. I had opened the gate and stepped over the chickens that are always along the fence when it happend. The peahen unloaded, hitting the gate and my fingers. I just know she did that intentionally. She's probably been laughing about that all morning.
Last weekend my task was to bring water to Kristi's vegetable garden. We have a water spigot about 2/3 of the way out in the front yard. So my plan was to dig a trench from the spigot to the garden and extend the pipe. I dug a great trench. It was 14 inches deep, 12 inches wide and 80 feet long. This was HARD work. I started with my mighty Mantis rototiller and softened things up and scooped the dirt out with shovels. 6 feet before the planned end of the trench, I found the main water supply line for the house. So 2 days of hard labor was for naught. Now I have to fill in my trench and then build the water system for the garden. It's supposed to rain today.
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Work work work. After that there's more work to do. This is good for us, right? Friday afternoon arriving home from work I fed the orphan goat as usual. Checked on the other animals. Everything seemed okay. I decided to use the remaining sunlight to mow the "lawn".
Our lawn has little or no grass in it at least as far as I can see, but I've only lived here for 6 months. We have a large area roughly 3/4 of an acre with green thriving broadleaf weeds. It's not only broadleaf weeds, but that's what most of it is. There are also very healthy sticker burr plants and other weeds. From even a short distance it looks nice and green year round. Those in Central Texas that have fancy thick, weed free lawns that cost and arm and a thigh to maintain don't ususally get green year round. In the summer grasses fry under way too much sun and in the winter the frost kills frail plants. One day we'll do something about this, but not this year.
Mowing the lawn means running my 25 horsepower Scott's Garden Tractor over the green areas. The mower is very powerful. It can mulch tree branches. It can cleave rocks. with a 54 inch cutting swath the mower would make short work of any reasonable lawn. 25 horsepower at full scream sounds like a lot of power and it is. That is until I get to the thickest weeds.
After cutting the front yard, being careful not to mow down Kristi's recently planted blackberry bushes, I dodged all the fruit trees, pine trees and oaks out front. Then I went to the field that will be our vegetable garden this year. It's about a half acre directly in front of our front yard. It's where the livestock-shed-converted-into-a-greenhouse sits. I cut around our little test winter garden that we planted to see if our soil would grow anything (it did) and improved the walking path. Then I tackled the back yard. More blackberry bushes. I think I missed them this time.
At our previous house in the far back of the property Kristi had laboriously dug holes in the solid limestone that was our dirt. She planted Texas native Mountain Laurels as a hedge against the new neighbors with the unruly children who built behind us. The plants never grew more than a couple of inches in 3 and a half years. They ARE slow growing plants, but that's pathetic. Anyway she had put in about 4 and I'm pretty sure one succumbed to my mighty lawnmower. It was hard to tell the plants from the weeds.
The back yard has more obsticles. Bird feeders hanging at forehead height - I made our bird feeders out of terra cotta planter bottoms and barbed wire so you can scar yourself if you aren't paying attention. Dodging around the many trees, patio, wheelbarrow full of rocks, garden tools, stepping stones, the pond and various animals makes for a frequently interrupted mow.
It was done. I hosed off the mower and let it dry.
Saturday the weather forcasters were promising rain. Lots of rain. So we had to get an early start to make any progress against our list of chores. Kristi began working on our kitchen herb garden. This will be about a 12 x 12 area at the south west corner of the house. There are 4 steps down into the space from the deck and the guestroom window overlooks it. There's a small gate to the main yard and a water faucet. What more could one ask? She built a raised bed about 1.5 feet high for the rosemary and filled in around it with dirt and rocks. Then she planted a couple of small oregono plants. These will fill in around the rosemary to look and smell nice. She make a short footpath from the concrete slab to the faucet by culling different sized rocks from the barnyard. These she layed flat and smoothed out. It looks great. Next to the little path is another small raised bed for mints. Mint is invasive. it will spread everywhere if not contained. So the raised bed will hopefully keep it in check.
I was cleaning up the area behind the shed. We had been throwing fallen branches and twigs and other tree debris back there to cut up for firewood or to turn into mulch with the chipper shredder. There was a lot of it. As I was cutting it all up for firewood I realized I was going to need somewhere to put it. I whacked together a box about 6 ft x 2ft x 2ft out of some old cedar fence boards than an employee had thrown out. I use these for all kinds of projects and they have a great number of good uses. Now there's enough room for all the kindling I can cut up. I also pruned a big yaupon holly that was in the same area. It was in the way and was always in my face when I was getting hardware cloth or lumber. Now it's out of the way and it looks better too.
Kristi made a very handy contraption on Saturday too. It's a bottle holder for the orphan. Four times a day every day the little one has to be bottle fed. I usually do it but lately I've been working late and Kristi has been getting stuck with the task. She got fed up with it on Saturday and made a handy little holder out of some lumber and velcro. She fastened this to a post in the barn at about goat-udder height. Now all we do to feed the little darling is to strap a fresh bottle of milk onto the holder and the little goat can suck to it's hearts content. In the mean time we can go about feeding all the other creatures without the little one being underfoot all the time. This is the kind of thing that can revolutionize your life. Of course no revolution happens without some milk being spilled and so it was in this case. Any new item introduced to the barn becomes the play thing of all the various creatures that live there. In this case the young goats would jump up on the bottle holder and butt it until it fell off the post. Kristi nailed it back on pretty firmly and now it is holding.
Our lawn has little or no grass in it at least as far as I can see, but I've only lived here for 6 months. We have a large area roughly 3/4 of an acre with green thriving broadleaf weeds. It's not only broadleaf weeds, but that's what most of it is. There are also very healthy sticker burr plants and other weeds. From even a short distance it looks nice and green year round. Those in Central Texas that have fancy thick, weed free lawns that cost and arm and a thigh to maintain don't ususally get green year round. In the summer grasses fry under way too much sun and in the winter the frost kills frail plants. One day we'll do something about this, but not this year.
Mowing the lawn means running my 25 horsepower Scott's Garden Tractor over the green areas. The mower is very powerful. It can mulch tree branches. It can cleave rocks. with a 54 inch cutting swath the mower would make short work of any reasonable lawn. 25 horsepower at full scream sounds like a lot of power and it is. That is until I get to the thickest weeds.
After cutting the front yard, being careful not to mow down Kristi's recently planted blackberry bushes, I dodged all the fruit trees, pine trees and oaks out front. Then I went to the field that will be our vegetable garden this year. It's about a half acre directly in front of our front yard. It's where the livestock-shed-converted-into-a-greenhouse sits. I cut around our little test winter garden that we planted to see if our soil would grow anything (it did) and improved the walking path. Then I tackled the back yard. More blackberry bushes. I think I missed them this time.
At our previous house in the far back of the property Kristi had laboriously dug holes in the solid limestone that was our dirt. She planted Texas native Mountain Laurels as a hedge against the new neighbors with the unruly children who built behind us. The plants never grew more than a couple of inches in 3 and a half years. They ARE slow growing plants, but that's pathetic. Anyway she had put in about 4 and I'm pretty sure one succumbed to my mighty lawnmower. It was hard to tell the plants from the weeds.
The back yard has more obsticles. Bird feeders hanging at forehead height - I made our bird feeders out of terra cotta planter bottoms and barbed wire so you can scar yourself if you aren't paying attention. Dodging around the many trees, patio, wheelbarrow full of rocks, garden tools, stepping stones, the pond and various animals makes for a frequently interrupted mow.
It was done. I hosed off the mower and let it dry.
Saturday the weather forcasters were promising rain. Lots of rain. So we had to get an early start to make any progress against our list of chores. Kristi began working on our kitchen herb garden. This will be about a 12 x 12 area at the south west corner of the house. There are 4 steps down into the space from the deck and the guestroom window overlooks it. There's a small gate to the main yard and a water faucet. What more could one ask? She built a raised bed about 1.5 feet high for the rosemary and filled in around it with dirt and rocks. Then she planted a couple of small oregono plants. These will fill in around the rosemary to look and smell nice. She make a short footpath from the concrete slab to the faucet by culling different sized rocks from the barnyard. These she layed flat and smoothed out. It looks great. Next to the little path is another small raised bed for mints. Mint is invasive. it will spread everywhere if not contained. So the raised bed will hopefully keep it in check.
I was cleaning up the area behind the shed. We had been throwing fallen branches and twigs and other tree debris back there to cut up for firewood or to turn into mulch with the chipper shredder. There was a lot of it. As I was cutting it all up for firewood I realized I was going to need somewhere to put it. I whacked together a box about 6 ft x 2ft x 2ft out of some old cedar fence boards than an employee had thrown out. I use these for all kinds of projects and they have a great number of good uses. Now there's enough room for all the kindling I can cut up. I also pruned a big yaupon holly that was in the same area. It was in the way and was always in my face when I was getting hardware cloth or lumber. Now it's out of the way and it looks better too.
Kristi made a very handy contraption on Saturday too. It's a bottle holder for the orphan. Four times a day every day the little one has to be bottle fed. I usually do it but lately I've been working late and Kristi has been getting stuck with the task. She got fed up with it on Saturday and made a handy little holder out of some lumber and velcro. She fastened this to a post in the barn at about goat-udder height. Now all we do to feed the little darling is to strap a fresh bottle of milk onto the holder and the little goat can suck to it's hearts content. In the mean time we can go about feeding all the other creatures without the little one being underfoot all the time. This is the kind of thing that can revolutionize your life. Of course no revolution happens without some milk being spilled and so it was in this case. Any new item introduced to the barn becomes the play thing of all the various creatures that live there. In this case the young goats would jump up on the bottle holder and butt it until it fell off the post. Kristi nailed it back on pretty firmly and now it is holding.
Monday, February 28, 2005
We have a perfectly good chicken coop in the barn. It has its own stall right next to the tack room for convenient access. That insures that it's very easy to feed the chickens that reside in the coop. Only our chickens don't stay in the coop. Every evening, when dusk comes, the call goes out. Roosters begin crowing from the barn calling all chickens to bed. Watching, you don't see any movement directly to the barn. A peck in this direction, a scratch there. Imperceptibly the chickens SLOWLY move towards the barn. Looking for any last bit of grain, or better, a bug as a last snack before sleep. They enter the barn and the fun begins. It should be general knowledge with this country's long history of farming that chickens can fly. They don't fly well, their aim isn't all that great. Sometimes they miss their goal and end up back on the ground. But they can in fact, fly. Our barn is separated into different sections. The first section as you enter the barn is a concrete slab about 10 feet long by 15 feet wide. The slab is the floor for the tack room and the chicken coop . There's a common area for getting animals in and moving them around and putting them into the various stalls. Stalls are various sizes and are framed with pipe fences and gates. The gates vary in height from about 5 feet tall to 7 feet tall. The rafters are another 7 or 8 feet above the highest gates. One at a time, one after the other, our chickens fly up to a lower gate. From there they make the short hop to the 7 foot level. Now there is a choice. The older hens and the peahen leap from the 7 foot gate to the top of the chicken coop. Then there's the jump up to the top of the tack room. Now comes the big jump to the rafters. The younger roosters and hens show off by flapping from the top of the gates directly into the rafters. Flapping wings and squawking chickens make for a noisy barn in the afternoons. You also have to be aware of where the chickens are perched in the rafters. You don't want to be loitering in the wrong spot in the barn. There are frequent loud splatting sounds coming from the concrete.
The chicken coop does have some temporary residents. That's where our barred rock pullets are staying. There's a heat-lamp in there to keep them warm although they're old enough now that they probably don't need the lamp anymore. They are fully feathered and during the days you have to be careful where you step to avoid squishing one.
This weekend we lost our second Cornish Cross chick. We were kind of expecting this one. It was the "poopy butt" chick from a previous post. There was something wrong with this one and it was scarcely eating. It was about a quarter the size of the other chicks. In the morning it was fine and when Kristi checked them in the afternoon this one was stretched out dead and the other chicks were running back and forth over it. The chick was buried in the rain under a crepe myrtle plant.
The chicken coop does have some temporary residents. That's where our barred rock pullets are staying. There's a heat-lamp in there to keep them warm although they're old enough now that they probably don't need the lamp anymore. They are fully feathered and during the days you have to be careful where you step to avoid squishing one.
This weekend we lost our second Cornish Cross chick. We were kind of expecting this one. It was the "poopy butt" chick from a previous post. There was something wrong with this one and it was scarcely eating. It was about a quarter the size of the other chicks. In the morning it was fine and when Kristi checked them in the afternoon this one was stretched out dead and the other chicks were running back and forth over it. The chick was buried in the rain under a crepe myrtle plant.
Monday, February 21, 2005
Chicks, birdhouses and the greenhouse
We lost our first Cornish Cross chick on Saturday. There was no reason we could find for it. There are a few birds out of the 47 (now 46) that we got that don't look to be in perfect condition. The one that died was one that did look good. We have a few that are afflicted with "poopy butt syndrome". At least that's what we're calling it. They get so much poop built up back there that new poop can't get out. The get blocked and can't eat. We may have to give these unfortunates a warm lingering bath to try and soften it up and remove it. The bird was buried without ceremony under a crepe myrtle tree. It will give all it has left towards the health of the tree and the beauty of the yard. On our weekly trip to Tractor Supply we bought a 25 lb bag of 20% chick starter. This feed will keep our fast growing flock eating for a short while. We also got more goat feed, chicken feed and sunflower seeds for feeding the wild birds.
On Saturday I put up 7 birdhouses. 6 in the back yard and 1 on the power pole next to the barn yard. On Sunday we saw an Eastern Bluebird and it's mate checking the house out. Neither of us had ever seen on of these before so it would be a thrill to have a pair nesting. They stayed for at least an hour checking out the neighborhood. We also had a flyby by a few purple martins. One had landed on the house for a while and chirped shrilly.
Kristi had an extremely busy weekend. She transplanted some boxwoods that surrounded a couple of oak trees in the back patio. She hates boxwoods. I could take them or leave them myself. They definitely have some good uses. I suggested she replant them rather than feeding them to the goats (I suspect that's what she wanted to do) so she dug 8 holes and put them in a semi circle around where I installed the sump for the laundry drain. They will eventually screen off the yard along the side of the storage shed. Since this is where I keep wheelbarrows, barrels, firewood, lumber and fencing materials it doesn't look too pretty most of the time. the boxwoods will be a big improvement.
The Barred Rock hens are getting bolder. If anything a chicken does can be considered bold. They began venturing out of the barn on Saturday. Just a few steps and they'd run back at the slighted sound. But they're starting to explore the world around them. They hope to find any worms that the early birds missed.
I was working on the greenhouse again. I'm trying to create some vents at the top, just under the roof on the sides that can be opened during hot weather and closed to keep the heat in during the colder months. So far what I have isn't very sturdy or functional. I'll keep plugging along until I get it right. Kristi's greenhouse plants are growing fast too. I'd better hurry.
Kristi also cleaned out the square garden under the purple martin house. She tore out some scrub oaks and weeds. Turned the soil over and began planting flowers. She has several different colors of tulips and other stuff. All bulbs. She also turned over the dirt in what will be the kitchen herb garden again. She's outlined where the slab ends and is preparing to put down stones for a path. Luckily stones are a natural resource we have in a abundance. We could build a path around our 15 acres if we wished too.
On Saturday I put up 7 birdhouses. 6 in the back yard and 1 on the power pole next to the barn yard. On Sunday we saw an Eastern Bluebird and it's mate checking the house out. Neither of us had ever seen on of these before so it would be a thrill to have a pair nesting. They stayed for at least an hour checking out the neighborhood. We also had a flyby by a few purple martins. One had landed on the house for a while and chirped shrilly.
Kristi had an extremely busy weekend. She transplanted some boxwoods that surrounded a couple of oak trees in the back patio. She hates boxwoods. I could take them or leave them myself. They definitely have some good uses. I suggested she replant them rather than feeding them to the goats (I suspect that's what she wanted to do) so she dug 8 holes and put them in a semi circle around where I installed the sump for the laundry drain. They will eventually screen off the yard along the side of the storage shed. Since this is where I keep wheelbarrows, barrels, firewood, lumber and fencing materials it doesn't look too pretty most of the time. the boxwoods will be a big improvement.
The Barred Rock hens are getting bolder. If anything a chicken does can be considered bold. They began venturing out of the barn on Saturday. Just a few steps and they'd run back at the slighted sound. But they're starting to explore the world around them. They hope to find any worms that the early birds missed.
I was working on the greenhouse again. I'm trying to create some vents at the top, just under the roof on the sides that can be opened during hot weather and closed to keep the heat in during the colder months. So far what I have isn't very sturdy or functional. I'll keep plugging along until I get it right. Kristi's greenhouse plants are growing fast too. I'd better hurry.
Kristi also cleaned out the square garden under the purple martin house. She tore out some scrub oaks and weeds. Turned the soil over and began planting flowers. She has several different colors of tulips and other stuff. All bulbs. She also turned over the dirt in what will be the kitchen herb garden again. She's outlined where the slab ends and is preparing to put down stones for a path. Luckily stones are a natural resource we have in a abundance. We could build a path around our 15 acres if we wished too.
Friday, February 18, 2005
The billy-goat was feeling amorous this morning. He was making a nuisance of himself with the younger female. They were crashing around the barn when I went to feed them. He was making his guttural sounds. Very human sounding from a distance. She was trying to escape by running in and out of stalls in the barn. I was concerned about being run down. Those horns are pointy and hard. I fed the orphan just enough to keep it happy for a couple of minutes and grabbed the goats food. Now they all follow me. The 2 females, the male and all the little ones. When I get to the goat shed it gets cramped. I go to the farthest bowl and fill it. Step around several goats and fill the next bowl. Push a couple of babies out of the last bowl and fill it. By this time the orphan has figured out where I am and it's wondering why my nipple is missing. I have to go back to the barn to retrieve it. Then I can finish pumping a quart of milk into the baby goat. It takes a lot to fill four stomachs.
Once baby goat was satisfied I could check the new chicks. It would be good to know if they survived the night. I had 3 heat lamps set up in the new brooder but you always wonder if it will be warm enough. The back door of the barn (I built a proper back door when we moved in. Before that there was just a cattle gate) was shut to keep things less drafty. The chicks are being kept in a horse stall with plywood sides which helps to cut drafts too. They were happy. All squished up next to each other with many at the feeders and some getting water too. I refilled their food containers. I had borrowed the feeders from the Barred Rock hens in the coop next door. I gave them the feeder that I fixed after the billy goat bent it all up when he stuck his head into it last week. There's a previous post about THAT little episode. That feeder holds about a weeks worth of food so I don't have to bother with it as often. I suspect the other chickens are eating out of it when I'm not looking however.
Once baby goat was satisfied I could check the new chicks. It would be good to know if they survived the night. I had 3 heat lamps set up in the new brooder but you always wonder if it will be warm enough. The back door of the barn (I built a proper back door when we moved in. Before that there was just a cattle gate) was shut to keep things less drafty. The chicks are being kept in a horse stall with plywood sides which helps to cut drafts too. They were happy. All squished up next to each other with many at the feeders and some getting water too. I refilled their food containers. I had borrowed the feeders from the Barred Rock hens in the coop next door. I gave them the feeder that I fixed after the billy goat bent it all up when he stuck his head into it last week. There's a previous post about THAT little episode. That feeder holds about a weeks worth of food so I don't have to bother with it as often. I suspect the other chickens are eating out of it when I'm not looking however.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Must be about birds
2 eggs
Arriving home yesterday I saw a road runner perched on the fence near the gate. This is the second time I've seen this particular bird. I hope it is nesting nearby. They are fun to watch. It jumped down and ran 30 or 40 feet from the fence while I opened the gate. I drove very slowly down the driveway watching it. Like the first time I saw the bird, it jumped through the fence on one side of the drive, ran across and through the fence on the other side. From there it would run a dozen feet, stop and look around twitching its tail and then run on. The goat families were in the same field on the other side near the hill. When Kristi got home a half hour later the road runner was still in the same field.
Yesterday we saw a flock of birds of an unfamiliar type. From the ground we thought they could be purple martins - though they weren't dark enough, or Tufted Tit Mouses (mice?) but they usually don't move in flocks. Kristi went in to get the binoculars and after looking closely at them we were able to find them in our birding books. They were Cedar Waxwings. They were very similar to many other bird types, we were finally able to ID the birds because of a distinctive red spot at the end of the wings.
Thursday we have been told that our order of 45 Cornish cross chicks will be in. Cornish cross is the breed you get at the grocery store. Meat birds. Our experience so far has been with laying birds. Barred Rocks, a Rhode Island Red or two and several birds of indeterminate heritage. The Barred Rocks are supposed to be a dual purpose bird. Suitable for both egg laying and meat. The Barred Rocks we've had are really skinny. Not much meat on them. They are great for stock though, and that's where our butchered birds have ended up so far. I think they have been 3.5 to 4 lbs when butchered. The Cornish Crosses will grow very quickly- in 7 weeks they'll be ready for the freezer. We're used to watching the rapid growth of chicks - every day you go to feed them and you can see that they're bigger. The Cornish Crosses will grow much, much faster. Last night I threw together a brooder box for them. I took a horses stall in the barn, put up some chicken wire to prevent the little darlings from waddling out. A few pieces of wood for a box of 5feet by 6 feet, some pine shavings and it's done. This afternoon I'll put up a few heat lamps, put in the waterer and feeders and we're done. We should pick the birds up before 6pm today. My morning routine will be extended even further. Oh joy. I'll start getting up at 4:45am to take care of the extra animals.
Now is the time to start planning for "processing" the chickens when they're done. A little thought now will help speed the process. If we can do 10 birds a day for 4 days we'll be doing well. Doing them that close together there shouldn't be too much weight difference between the first day and fourth day of processing. In case you noticed, we bought 45 birds and are counting on 40 birds processed. Just in case we have some losses. This will be our chicken supply for the year.
Arriving home yesterday I saw a road runner perched on the fence near the gate. This is the second time I've seen this particular bird. I hope it is nesting nearby. They are fun to watch. It jumped down and ran 30 or 40 feet from the fence while I opened the gate. I drove very slowly down the driveway watching it. Like the first time I saw the bird, it jumped through the fence on one side of the drive, ran across and through the fence on the other side. From there it would run a dozen feet, stop and look around twitching its tail and then run on. The goat families were in the same field on the other side near the hill. When Kristi got home a half hour later the road runner was still in the same field.
Yesterday we saw a flock of birds of an unfamiliar type. From the ground we thought they could be purple martins - though they weren't dark enough, or Tufted Tit Mouses (mice?) but they usually don't move in flocks. Kristi went in to get the binoculars and after looking closely at them we were able to find them in our birding books. They were Cedar Waxwings. They were very similar to many other bird types, we were finally able to ID the birds because of a distinctive red spot at the end of the wings.
Thursday we have been told that our order of 45 Cornish cross chicks will be in. Cornish cross is the breed you get at the grocery store. Meat birds. Our experience so far has been with laying birds. Barred Rocks, a Rhode Island Red or two and several birds of indeterminate heritage. The Barred Rocks are supposed to be a dual purpose bird. Suitable for both egg laying and meat. The Barred Rocks we've had are really skinny. Not much meat on them. They are great for stock though, and that's where our butchered birds have ended up so far. I think they have been 3.5 to 4 lbs when butchered. The Cornish Crosses will grow very quickly- in 7 weeks they'll be ready for the freezer. We're used to watching the rapid growth of chicks - every day you go to feed them and you can see that they're bigger. The Cornish Crosses will grow much, much faster. Last night I threw together a brooder box for them. I took a horses stall in the barn, put up some chicken wire to prevent the little darlings from waddling out. A few pieces of wood for a box of 5feet by 6 feet, some pine shavings and it's done. This afternoon I'll put up a few heat lamps, put in the waterer and feeders and we're done. We should pick the birds up before 6pm today. My morning routine will be extended even further. Oh joy. I'll start getting up at 4:45am to take care of the extra animals.
Now is the time to start planning for "processing" the chickens when they're done. A little thought now will help speed the process. If we can do 10 birds a day for 4 days we'll be doing well. Doing them that close together there shouldn't be too much weight difference between the first day and fourth day of processing. In case you noticed, we bought 45 birds and are counting on 40 birds processed. Just in case we have some losses. This will be our chicken supply for the year.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
A mailbox recovered
Saturday afternoon, when we were returning from the local big box store with our mailbox materials we drove up and down the street again looking for the old box. It was just unbelievable to us that someone would have made off with it. Kristi suggested looking in the creek that borders our property so we stopped to look around. How about that? There was our mailbox in the creek. There were also two old batteries, a sign and a bunch of junk and litter. Another bit of work makes the todo list. Cleaning up the creek. I had best get some waders and I'll drag Kristi's canoe behind me to use as my waterborne wheelbarrow. Oddly there is only one gate from our property into the creek even though we own halfway through it. Since it's a steep bank at that point it may be easier just to access the creek from the road. One of these days I'll put in a gate to make the creek more accessible. There's not really anything that we'd do with the creek but it does need to have the litter picked up periodically.
The mailbox killers
2 eggs yesterday.
Thursday night someone hit our mail box. The box was a plastic box with an integral stand kind of a beige-ish brown color with a cutesy green roof. It had fake windows. It wasn't us. Still, on the current list of priorities replacing the mailbox was number 1783 out of 21,468. So it was some ways down the list. The choice was taken out of our hands. I got up Friday morning, did my usual animal related tasks (I don't want to call them chores) and drove off. I opened the first gate, the one with the electric wire at the bottom that has bitten both Kristi and Barbecue. I opened the second gate at the road, picked up the paper and left. I noticed the mailbox diagonally across the road was barely hanging on its pole. I left for work. Kristi followed me out and immediately noticed that our mailbox was gone. Not just knocked down but completely gone! Who would want to steal a tacky plastic mailbox? Well gone is gone so we got a new task put on our list. When we returned we found that the four by four post that held the box up was snapped off at the ground level. Somebody hit it a ton. We drove up and down the street looking for it. No luck so we went off to the hardware store to buy mailbox building stuff. We looked at the standard mailbox kits and didn't like them. So we designed our own. We bought one 8ft fencepost - this is an eight inch diameter log that has had the bark trimmed off. They are used for an anchor to stretch barbed wire fences to keep them tight. We wanted something sturdy. Bought two cement bags, a few 9 inch lag bolts and a large mailbox. Next stop was Tractor Supply for some horseshoes, reflectors and tried to find some large numbers for the address. We went to McCoys too looking for numbers. All we could find were teensy four inch numbers. That's great if people actually drove the thirty mile per hour speed limit, but since the average speed is closer to 50 mph we needed big visible numbers. That meant we go the DIY route. I had an old 1x6 in the lumber pile and a scroll saw. Kristi found a suitable font and blew it up to about 1000 points. That gave us a 7.5 inch number. That would be big enough. Kristi printed out her number and meticulously cut it out. I cut up the 1x6 into the right length and then figured out how to use the scroll saw. It took a while to cut the numbers and sand them so they looked somewhat the same. Then they got several coats of paint. I also had two half round pieces from a table top that I used as a protective decoration to help prevent baseball bat damage. The whole thing was cut and bolted together. Late Sunday we threw it all on the truck and cemented it in the ground. It was a long day and we were both exhausted. Then we went grocery shopping at 7pm. Whew.
Yesterday Kristi worked on refurbishing the chicken coop I built. We're expecting 45 broiler chickens (Cornish cross) later this week. We will likely move the Barred Rocks into that coop when the broilers come in. So it needs to be in good condtion. Maybe I'll even finish installing the last two pieces of trim. She also cleaned out the livestock water tank. This is a five foot by two foot by 18 inch galvanized metal tank with an automatic filling valve. It gets nasty after a few months. She made it look new. I took the opportunity of the tank being emptied to put it up on concrete blocks and level it so water won't slop out.
Thursday night someone hit our mail box. The box was a plastic box with an integral stand kind of a beige-ish brown color with a cutesy green roof. It had fake windows. It wasn't us. Still, on the current list of priorities replacing the mailbox was number 1783 out of 21,468. So it was some ways down the list. The choice was taken out of our hands. I got up Friday morning, did my usual animal related tasks (I don't want to call them chores) and drove off. I opened the first gate, the one with the electric wire at the bottom that has bitten both Kristi and Barbecue. I opened the second gate at the road, picked up the paper and left. I noticed the mailbox diagonally across the road was barely hanging on its pole. I left for work. Kristi followed me out and immediately noticed that our mailbox was gone. Not just knocked down but completely gone! Who would want to steal a tacky plastic mailbox? Well gone is gone so we got a new task put on our list. When we returned we found that the four by four post that held the box up was snapped off at the ground level. Somebody hit it a ton. We drove up and down the street looking for it. No luck so we went off to the hardware store to buy mailbox building stuff. We looked at the standard mailbox kits and didn't like them. So we designed our own. We bought one 8ft fencepost - this is an eight inch diameter log that has had the bark trimmed off. They are used for an anchor to stretch barbed wire fences to keep them tight. We wanted something sturdy. Bought two cement bags, a few 9 inch lag bolts and a large mailbox. Next stop was Tractor Supply for some horseshoes, reflectors and tried to find some large numbers for the address. We went to McCoys too looking for numbers. All we could find were teensy four inch numbers. That's great if people actually drove the thirty mile per hour speed limit, but since the average speed is closer to 50 mph we needed big visible numbers. That meant we go the DIY route. I had an old 1x6 in the lumber pile and a scroll saw. Kristi found a suitable font and blew it up to about 1000 points. That gave us a 7.5 inch number. That would be big enough. Kristi printed out her number and meticulously cut it out. I cut up the 1x6 into the right length and then figured out how to use the scroll saw. It took a while to cut the numbers and sand them so they looked somewhat the same. Then they got several coats of paint. I also had two half round pieces from a table top that I used as a protective decoration to help prevent baseball bat damage. The whole thing was cut and bolted together. Late Sunday we threw it all on the truck and cemented it in the ground. It was a long day and we were both exhausted. Then we went grocery shopping at 7pm. Whew.
Yesterday Kristi worked on refurbishing the chicken coop I built. We're expecting 45 broiler chickens (Cornish cross) later this week. We will likely move the Barred Rocks into that coop when the broilers come in. So it needs to be in good condtion. Maybe I'll even finish installing the last two pieces of trim. She also cleaned out the livestock water tank. This is a five foot by two foot by 18 inch galvanized metal tank with an automatic filling valve. It gets nasty after a few months. She made it look new. I took the opportunity of the tank being emptied to put it up on concrete blocks and level it so water won't slop out.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Crazy chickens, an orphaned goat and poop
2 eggs today (but I broke one on the way into the house so I flung it to the cannibal chickens before it leaked all over the place)
I went out to feed the goats this morning. Five fifteen am is early for me. At this time of day I haven't had any coffee or tea. Nothing to perk (!) me up. I NEED perking up at five fifteen in the morning. What I'm getting at is that I don't have the same level of consciousness early in the morning that I might have at say, noon. My wits are still in the same dark quiet place where they are of no danger to anyone. So I'm feeding the orphan with its mother standing next to me trying not to notice. The little one is amazing how much it can eat. It will take the entire 24 oz bottle of formula without so much as a burp. The goatling weighs about 13 lbs now. I can't drink that much at nearly 20 times its weight. Not too nearly. I noticed, as any good mother would that there was a dark crusty stain on the little baby's neck. I was alarmed. My first thought-which took only a few seconds to percolate up- was that it was blood. I couldn't imagine what else it might be. I felt it. Crusty. Very dry. The incident happened hours ago. I moved the bottle into the light with little goat still attached. Still looked bad. I picked him up and held him more towards the light to see the wound. No luck. At that point I thought I was getting late so I fed the big goats, fed the barred rock chicks and forgot to feed the big chickens. One thing about free range birds is that they are perfectly capable of finding their own food. The big advantage of the feed I give them is that it is balanced just right to promote egg laying. Barred rock hens, fed properly, are capable of laying 280 eggs a year.
In the afternoon I warmed up a new bottle of goat formula and went to check on my little charge. He was hungry and began to suck down the entire bottle. While he was distracted I explored the wound a little better. It's amazing how much 8 cups of early morning coffee and adequate sunlight can help. The "wound" was no more than poop! Our chickens have long since abandoned the proper chicken behaviour of hiding out in the chicken coop at night. Mind you we have 2 coops and one of them cost nearly $ 400.00. By any measure an extravagant chicken coop. It can house as many as 6 birds. Anyway, the chickens won't use the coops. They perfer to roost in the rafters of the barn at night. it's a real effort for them, the older ones especially to fly up to the rafters 15 feet above ground level. They use the bleeding edge of chicken technology to accomplish the feat. From the ground they will flap up to the cattle gate that closes off the chicken coop from the large animals. From there they can manage the short distance to the fence that bounds one side of the stall next door. With a short hop they can then get to the top of the chicken coop. That's about eight feet up. From there it's only a step really to the top of the tack room. Here's where it gets dicey. From the top of the tack room to the rafters is about 5 feet. They really have to screw up their courage (why do you think they are called chickens?) to actually FLY the distance. At that point they have truly flown the coop (har) and are in the safety of the rafters. Since they have gone to all that trouble, which they do every night. They seem to take great pleasure in carefully aiming and bombing any creature down below.
I found that the mid-group of chicks had learned a new trick. As far as groups go, we got 12 chickens when we bought the farm, we hatched about 10 more from the first groups eggs and the third group would be the recently purchased Barred Rock chicks. That we are down to 9 chickens total from the first two groups is a testament to the greed of raccoons. Since we got Barbecue the loss of chickens has almost stopped. Back to the trick. There is a gate that separates the backyard of the house from the yard between the barn and shed and house. The 5 remaining chickens of group 2 were all roosting and preening on top of that gate. We were so overcome with how cute it was that we avoided going out that way for the rest of the afternoon. I also got to take some pictures with my Treo 650. See photo posted above. If you look closely you can also see the peahen on the ground and one of the cats up on the deck railing in the background.
I went out to feed the goats this morning. Five fifteen am is early for me. At this time of day I haven't had any coffee or tea. Nothing to perk (!) me up. I NEED perking up at five fifteen in the morning. What I'm getting at is that I don't have the same level of consciousness early in the morning that I might have at say, noon. My wits are still in the same dark quiet place where they are of no danger to anyone. So I'm feeding the orphan with its mother standing next to me trying not to notice. The little one is amazing how much it can eat. It will take the entire 24 oz bottle of formula without so much as a burp. The goatling weighs about 13 lbs now. I can't drink that much at nearly 20 times its weight. Not too nearly. I noticed, as any good mother would that there was a dark crusty stain on the little baby's neck. I was alarmed. My first thought-which took only a few seconds to percolate up- was that it was blood. I couldn't imagine what else it might be. I felt it. Crusty. Very dry. The incident happened hours ago. I moved the bottle into the light with little goat still attached. Still looked bad. I picked him up and held him more towards the light to see the wound. No luck. At that point I thought I was getting late so I fed the big goats, fed the barred rock chicks and forgot to feed the big chickens. One thing about free range birds is that they are perfectly capable of finding their own food. The big advantage of the feed I give them is that it is balanced just right to promote egg laying. Barred rock hens, fed properly, are capable of laying 280 eggs a year.
In the afternoon I warmed up a new bottle of goat formula and went to check on my little charge. He was hungry and began to suck down the entire bottle. While he was distracted I explored the wound a little better. It's amazing how much 8 cups of early morning coffee and adequate sunlight can help. The "wound" was no more than poop! Our chickens have long since abandoned the proper chicken behaviour of hiding out in the chicken coop at night. Mind you we have 2 coops and one of them cost nearly $ 400.00. By any measure an extravagant chicken coop. It can house as many as 6 birds. Anyway, the chickens won't use the coops. They perfer to roost in the rafters of the barn at night. it's a real effort for them, the older ones especially to fly up to the rafters 15 feet above ground level. They use the bleeding edge of chicken technology to accomplish the feat. From the ground they will flap up to the cattle gate that closes off the chicken coop from the large animals. From there they can manage the short distance to the fence that bounds one side of the stall next door. With a short hop they can then get to the top of the chicken coop. That's about eight feet up. From there it's only a step really to the top of the tack room. Here's where it gets dicey. From the top of the tack room to the rafters is about 5 feet. They really have to screw up their courage (why do you think they are called chickens?) to actually FLY the distance. At that point they have truly flown the coop (har) and are in the safety of the rafters. Since they have gone to all that trouble, which they do every night. They seem to take great pleasure in carefully aiming and bombing any creature down below.
I found that the mid-group of chicks had learned a new trick. As far as groups go, we got 12 chickens when we bought the farm, we hatched about 10 more from the first groups eggs and the third group would be the recently purchased Barred Rock chicks. That we are down to 9 chickens total from the first two groups is a testament to the greed of raccoons. Since we got Barbecue the loss of chickens has almost stopped. Back to the trick. There is a gate that separates the backyard of the house from the yard between the barn and shed and house. The 5 remaining chickens of group 2 were all roosting and preening on top of that gate. We were so overcome with how cute it was that we avoided going out that way for the rest of the afternoon. I also got to take some pictures with my Treo 650. See photo posted above. If you look closely you can also see the peahen on the ground and one of the cats up on the deck railing in the background.
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