Pink eye and dead rabbits

Seasonal businesses and active posting don't seem to go together well. Yesterday I finally posted an entry that was begun in July. That is how things go sometimes. Barbecue is about 10 months old now. Yesterday she caught and killed her first rabbit. Our little girl is growing up. I buried the remains halfway through making dinner.
We had a small epidemic of pink eye go through the herd last month. Our oldest nanny goat got it first. Kristi and I were in the garden field picking tomatos as we did every day from May until August. All the goats went back to the barn leaving Mama goat behind. This NEVER happens. Mama-goat leads the way for all the others. She was bleating and looking around like she was lost. Realizing something was amiss, I walked over to that field. When I got up close, I could see that Mama-goats eyes were swollen and nearly shut! There was also a watery discharge that had wet her face. She could barely see, and I suspect she could only see light and dark or a blur. She had trouble distinguishing the fence the gate etc. I let her smell me for a while to help settle her down and led her out from the field into the front yard. She never gets into the front yard, but I thought this would be easier as it is a straight walk from the field to the barnyard. She ran off and I followed trying to guide her gently to the barnyard gate. I hate to add stress to her when she's nearly blind. I finally got her in there. Then the fun began. I went and bought some eyedrops for pinkeye. Then I went to one of my favorite stores, Tractor Supply Company and bought some hypodermic syringes and some antibiotics. She had to have 3 injections over 6 days. It did clear up the pinkeye though. 4 more goats got it over the next few weeks and they all had to be isolated from the herd and injected. Not many of them enjoyed it. In fact, none of them enjoyed it. They are still suspicious of me months later.

Guineas are wonderful birds. They are watchdogs (watchbirds?) that squalk so loudly you have to hold your hands over your ears. They squalk at strangers, hawks, sounds, feathers, dirt, the sky and minor air movements. Get the picture? We started with 7 guineas. We lost one early on when I failed to realize the quickness of their development. They could fly before I was ready for them to fly. My little, portable chicken coop was pressed into service when we got the guineas. They took to it well as they had no choice. The coop was designed for chickens which don't generally fly very well. I had left the top 4 inches below the roof open for ventalation. One day I went out to feed them and they were all sitting on the top roost! So they were able to fly over 2 feet to the 2x2 roosts. Gah! I had to do something quick. I went and cut some impromptu screens out of hardware cloth. This was screwed over the openings. They still had plenty of ventilation but could no longer escape. A quick count however showed one missing. We looked around but it was gone, probably eaten by a possum, raccoon or cat.
Last weekend I put the guineas away just at dark. They are the last stragglers amoung the poultry to go to bed. A count showed 5 birds, six if you count the rooster but that's another story which I will come to presently. Since it was dark it was hard to see. I ran and got Miss Lyn and together we tried to find our missing bird. No luck. We trusted we would find her/him in the light of the next day, and sure enough we did. Miss Lyn was searching all those places that the chickens lay their eggs every day. One of the newer places is behind a small door in the goat barn. This door is about 4 feet wide but only 2 feet high. The door is always kept open, folded back against the inside wall of the building. The door is held in place by a cinderblock. Frequently the goats move the block around and the door comes away from the wall enough for a chicken to get behind it for the privacy she wants for egg laying. When Miss Lyn opened the door she found our missing guinea. It had gone in and could not get out and had died. As it was raining heavily I opted to bury the poor bird in the afternoon.
Several weeks ago our main rooster "Florshiem" was found dead on the floor of the barn. There were no marks on him and no reason could be found for his death. He was buried on the perimeter of the barnyard where he lived his whole life. This loss left us without a main rooster. We still have an emergency backup rooster, but as it is a ridiculous bird we won't acknowledge it. We needed a rooster. A mate for our flock of 9 Barred Rock hens. The hens lay eggs just fine without a Roo, but if we want to create new Barred Rock chickens we need a rooster for fertilization. We found a place that sells more or less full grown roos and bought one for $7.00 An exorbinant price for such a bird. However the benefits may outweigh the drawbacks if we get more chicks.
We let the roo go in the barnyard. Silly us, we should have locked it in the chicken (guinea) coop for 2 weeks so it would know where home was. I only read about that after the rooster disappeared. Yep, after the first night it was gone. After 3 days we were going to go get another one. I was in the barn with the box that we had picked the last one up in, when in the corner of the barn scratching around was our rooster!! It hadn't been eaten! The barred rock hens would pick on it mercilessly. Whenever the roo was anywhere nearby the hens would chase it off. Later that afternoon I saw the rooster go into the guinea coop, look around an come out again. That evening as I was shepherding the guineas into the coop I saw the rooster in there. So the roo was going to live with the guineas. Swell. Forget about fertilized Barred Rock chickens then. Turns out that the roo wasn't developed quite as much as we thought. He still had a few weeks to go before he started crowing. Now he hangs out with the chickens during the day and the guineas at night. We are happy with a full incubator, he is happy and the barred rock hens are happy that they have a guardian.

You say Tomato, I say Potato.

It's the 26th of June and hotter than three kinds of hell, but that doesn't stop us from working our collective asses off. I'm not talking donkeys here, either.

The 200+ tomato plants are ripening, but not all at once. We get about 10 pounds a day and yesterday we made tomato sauce with the first ten lbs. Today, we have another ten pounds and will be making salsa, but not for canning. I also canned several pints of crunchy jalapenos, the same jalapenos that make you get on your knees and scream to the heavens. You know, good ones.

The rat in the tack room is maybe five inches long plus the tail. Mike's seen it three times now, always in the morning, but he can also hear it most of the time. We left the door ajar for Eatz, our rat-eating cat, but today the little goats got their heads inside and thus their bodies and tore open a chicken feed bag and messed up some of the goat chow bags.

Our attempt at raising corn this first go around was a bust. Without big machines that go between the rows and pick the corn, we figured out that we need at least two feet between the rows to get into it with a mower. Mike thinks I'm crazy because I bought a hand mower, one that doesn't run on gas. It will come in handy. He just can't see it right now.

Alas, the corn looks like miniature corn, and really that's not bad, it just isn't the type of corn we wanted. It's silver queen, but matured too fast because of two factors -- weeds and lack of nitrogen in the soil. This is version One Point Oh!

The watermelons are coming along nicely, too, but slowly, as always. The squash -- two kinds -- zucchini (sp?) as well as round squash, are growing like crazy. The plants are the biggest I've ever seen. Huge.

The gourds are doing well, but I could not remember what type of gourd I planted in one pot and when I transferred them, I thought they were dipper gourds, but that's not the case. They're LOOFAHS! So we have round ball gourds, dippers and loofahs this year. Somewhere. Next year, the markers will be bigger so I can find them.

Today, I harvested the dill seeds on the drying heads that will die off in the sun if they're not captured. I put them in a garbage bag with holes in it, then tied it up in the kitchen.

The volunteer gourds in the barnyard that are doing well are birdhouse gourds. We also have snake gourds growing.

Mike finished the covering behind the shed where he will store his wood, so that's good. Today, he is sorting the wood and creating a way to store it properly. He's found a bunch of cockroaches which are easily taken care of organically with boric acid and diatomaceous earth. It's too bad the chickens don't follow him around out there, because they love to eat the cockroaches. More protein, better eggs.

We are getting between six and seven eggs a day right now, but some of the shells are not hard enough and I suspect that those eggs are from the new layers. We've always had that problem with the ends of the eggs being super soft and usually broken. Mike says that's not the case, that the chickens scratch around and cause the egg to break. Nonetheless, those eggs get thrown into the barnyard and our little cannibals love them.

The guineas are a handful, but they hang out in a pack, are quite noisy and delightful at the same time. They explore a little more area every day, and these last few days, that area has been the barn itself.

Weed control for the tomatoes, the potatoes, the beans, the corn, etc... is a real issue we have to deal with next time. The black plastic could have worked, but the dirt I put on top seems to have allowed the grass and weeds to grow. Version One Point Oh!

The fruit trees we ignored for a week and the leaves fell of off some of them because of the heat and the fact that we've been too busy to keep watering them consistently.

Bewicks Wrens, which are diminishing in numbers in the US, seem to be nesting in the small, wire shelf just outside the back door. The eggs, we think, have hatched because the wrens come with grasshoppers and other bugs, so that can only mean they're feeding chicks. The wrens are wary of us, but more wary of our long-hair cat (Thud), and chirp like the dickens when she's around. There are four little eggs and both the male and the female share nesting duties.

We foiled the squirrels that had torn a hole in the trashcan that we were using to store bird feed on the back porch. We replaced it with a metal one, but recently, we've discovered that the little buggers have pissed all over the lid. Maybe they're just pissed off because they can't get to the seed. With all the pecans, the acorns and other food around, you'd think they wouldn't be so spoiled.

Barbecue, who has been given the OKAY to chase the squirrels has a little dance that she does when chasing them. She runs after them with a bounce on her front paws, barking excitedly and turning around and around. We encourage her to do this and she loves it. It still doesn't keep the squirrels out of the back yard, though.

Barbecue is enervated by the heat. Poor dog, she sits under bushes where it's exposed and cool dirt. I don't think she's got enough energy to actually dig a nice cool spot out for herself under our trees at this time. That's not a bad thing.

We tried to set up a scarecrow waterer that is motion-activated, but she'll have none of that. She is afraid of the water because someone, AHEM, used to squirt her if she started barking at the hose. Now she stays away from the water when it's in, AHEM, someone's hands.

Welp, it's time to go switch the waters over and eat lunch.

Humidity Blues

Now that the heat's here, so is, yes, the humidity. It blankets every act you commit outside and every single step you take. Mike can just THINK about going outside and his shirt is soaked.

The guineas flew the coop yesterday. Mike cooked dinner and I went outside to check to see if the guineas had come out -- we've left the cage open for the third day and they finally decided it was cooler outside than inside the cage. But they weren't just walking around, they were bathing in the dirt. It reminded me of Mel Brooks' Young Frankenstein and Teri Garr's "Roll, roll, roll in the hay.." scene. Only four guineas made the jump, with two squawkers inside the coop who didn't quite understand the concept of an open door.

We saw Star Wars III for the second time yesterday and came home around 6:30 when Mike decided to check the trap for predators. He thought something was amiss because Barbecue was barking like crazy and acting a little weird. She knew there was something trapped, but didn't quite find the English words to tell us, "Hey, Dudes, something's in the trap." Stupid dog.

So off Mike went and Barbecue apparently got to the trap before he did... and then Mike saw that another raccoon had visited us over the last two days, taking the chicken-parts bait that we left in the trap.

We did the humane thing again, using the truck's exhaust and a garbage bag to do the deed...

It was kind of a crazy night, but very delightful and funny in other ways.

The tomatoes are getting out of hand, but they're not quite ripe just yet. I pickled a batch of jalapenos (two pint-sized mason jars) and put some in a bowl for us to try them out. They are spicy hot, but only after the first bite. But then you get down-on-your-knees-say-jalapeno-luya-scream-like-you-mean-it hot. It's the sandy soil what does it, methinks.

Off to never-never land...

Kristi

It's still Summer... or it's Summer-still

It is amazing to me how comforting this farm is, how wonderful to go home and to not have to worry about walking around the house in skivvies or staying inside because you don't want to talk to the neighbors. It all works for us. We like the peace and quiet because truly, neither of us have quiet jobs. Mike's job might be on the top of a hill that overlooks a cow pasture, but it's still noisy with the people around the warehouse, his employees and the constant ringing of the phones. My job is just crazy.

It is SO nice to come home to the farm. It's just RIGHT here.

Our harvests so far have been some test garlic and onions, a few plums, peaches, herbs, eggs, 40 'harvested' chickens, dill up to my... neck (almost). The gourds have gone crazy and will be taking over the 50 foot by 150 foot plot of land where they're planted.

The tomatoes are going crazy, too, and the teardrop tomatoes look more like filled in cartoon balloons with large... points on the ends.

The corn has just begun to put out its pollen packages and I hope we see some silk action in the next few weeks.

One of the boar billy goats have, for the last two days, been in the forested area where there is no gate. It has cried when we got home and gotten stuck behind the fence where it goes to find better foliage, I guess. We've had to let it out twice at the evening feeding time. The poor thing bleats like there's no tomorrow and is so panicky with us, that it just doesn't know how to handle getting back into the barnyard.

Our barred rock chickens are almost ready to lay, and we think one of them might be doing so. We can't ever tell because we pick up the eggs at odd times. Since chickens lay about every 23 hours (with regular feedings), we don't know and can't FIND the eggs when they do lay them. They've laid in the nesting boxes I made for them only twice. They are foragers, too, supplemented with chicken scratch from time to time and laying mash when they want it in a huge feeder.

The littlest goat is finally off formula, but still a pain, as it is the loudest of the goats and the one that has to be right next to us around feeding time. Bleating. Did I mention the annoying bleating?

It's hot, now, and there is still much work to do. The greenhouse is useless right now, but still has a few plants in it. Tomatoes (cherry) as well as castor bean trees, one caper plant and a few odds and ends. I need to clean it out and reorg it for the fall. It's not quite right, yet.

We have sparrows nesting right outside our back door, right at eye level and where we put stuff like gloves. There are three eggs in the nest along with Mike's matchstick lighter for his barbecue.

Speaking of Barbecue, she's got a million sticker burs in her coat and we try to keep her free of them by brushing once or twice a week, but it just doesn't seem to matter. Rolling around in the dirt and the grass is her specialty, after all.

It's been a long few weeks.

Happy farming!

Miss Lyn (Kristi)

Heat? What heat?

Sweat was stinging my eyes as I walked away from the grave. Gravedigging. Just another chore that has to be taken care of on the farm. Judge, jury and executioners too are jobs needing to be done. The raccoon had been trapped sometime in the night out in the far back woods along the creek behind the house. We find holes dug under the fence every time we venture out there. Even after we plug up the holes with whatever is at hand, usually fallen branches and limbs from the hundreds of trees all around us, the nocturnal marauders pull them out or push them aside and canvass our property. Raccoons are fierce, smart and bold predators. We have lost chickens in broad daylight when we are home on the weekends. We have lost a rooster (not a big loss) and one of our 10 Barred Rock hens. This is a loss screaming for vengence. The barred rocks aren't even mature yet. We've had them for nearly 5 months we expect them to start laying any day now. Adding to the raccoons crimes, I was bitten by a tick after walking out to check the trap. We baited the trap with part of a chicken back. These and other parts are kept in the freezer for the next time we make stock. Even a small piece is enough to attrack the greedy killers. Saturday we went to check the trap and found the hissing snarling beast. Now we have a problem we have to get rid of it. After discussing options we come up with 3 methods. One is to release it. We could drive out to an area far from any houses and near a creek so the raccoon would have shot at survival, and release it. This is unfortunately illegal and it might create a pest problem for someone else. So that one was dismissed. Option 2 was to shoot it. We have a rifle now, but haven't used it and I have only fired BB guns and the little .22 rifles at carnivals. So I really need some practise before I go after the varmint with guns blazing. So I chose to use carbon monoxide. We put the trap into a large trash can on its side and then taped a plastic trash bag to the opening, sealing it. Next I cut a small hole in the closed end of the bag. The hole was taped to some cardboard that was wrapped around some aluminum foil that covered the end of the exhaust pipe of my truck. The truck was started, in 20 minutes the deed was done. The creature was probably dead in 10 minutes but we wanted to be SURE. It was late in the day Saturday so we waited until Sunday to bury it.

Same song, different day

This past weekend, my friend Mary visited us, wanting to have 'farm therapy' which is to say a day of getting away from all the world you inhabit. We planted jalapenos and tabasco peppers, about 20 plants. This is added to the nearly 200 plants, now -- most of which are tomatoes.

Our Guineas are getting bigger and made their presence known when they could fly up to the top of the coop and see out. Unfortunately, they could fly out if they wanted to, so Mike worked on putting hardware cloth up so they could see out -- but not fly out.

The composting isn't fast enough for what I'm using these days and so I think I'm going to have to start a new pile and let this one be. Maybe get some compost from the forested areas on the farm for a while.

We captured a raccoon in the live trap, one that seems like it's a baby, which can only mean there must be a larger one, the one that killed two of our chickens. Mary went with us to, well, dispose of it, although she prefers this more humane method than the one we first thought we would do --which is to shoot it. We've lost one of the barred rock hens and one of the roosters -- the pretty aurecana with black feathers that had really nice, dark green highlights in them. The rooster's feathers were in a field opposite of where the remaining body parts of it were. Very odd because the rooster was quite a large one. The raccoon had to have been large enough to haul it almost a tenth of a mile.

We caught a possum a few days ago and set it free by one of the creek entryways at the back of the property. It probably won't come back, seeing as it was pretty well pissed off with us for merely capturing it.

Barbecue now knows another few commands -- 'roll over' and 'shake' although she does the 'shake' part whenever she wants to impress us -- without us asking her to. She is getting bigger and more like a dog every week.

Mike busted his balls this weekend. We also bought a new lawnmower. The one we had was from my father's house (after he passed away) and we've already spent enough money on it -- 45 dollars the first time and we got it running the second time -- well, almost. Mike broke the cord on it when he tried to start it. Not sure if it was that he doesn't know his own strength or that the cord was just worn out. Either way, more money would have been spent on the dang thing just to get it back to running condition. Never buy Murray products...

We purchased a Honda, a higher-end model for 500.00 and some change. It works really well and although it surprised us by being self-propelled (a feature Mike scoffs at), I think we both like it that way.

So Mike mowed parts of fields that he could not get with his big mower and one of those areas was my gourd and potato patch. Now I don't have to worry about stickerburs when watering or maintaining the vines. Yay.

Mike also cleaned out the gutters as well as the hottub this weekend, so I know he is sore, sore, sore. But... that's what we're HERE for, isn't it?

Groan......

I'm sore this morning. No, not mad at anyone or thing, but sore from a long weekend of labor. It was good labor to be sure as most labor is on the little farm. But when the labor is unaccustomed, well it hurts. This weekend saw a lot of things done. Curiously BOTH mornings we slept in until after 8am! We haven't done that for years and years. Once we got up we hit top gear quickly. First thing we went to what has become one of our favorite stores, Tractor Supply Company. There we took back 2 of the 3 bags of "beef cattle supplement" that we had errantly purchased the last time we were there. One drawback of our particular TSC is that they like to move things around frequently. The did this with the feed bags last week. Where the goat feed usually is, they had stacked bags of beef supplement. The bags and labels are identical except for the 8 point type on the label. The consistancy of this product reminded me of fish food flakes. It was 5 o'clock in the morning when I discovered the error, too late (early?) to do anything about it, so I fed it to the goats anyway. Our older female took a mouthful and the poor thing kept trying to swallow the dry powder. Not much of it got eaten. We still have the opened bag which will get traded to someone at Kristi's work that runs cattle. Anyway, we swapped the unopened bags at TSC for the goat chow that our babies love so much. 5 bags of goat feed and a bag of chicken scratch, a hose end sprayer for plant watering with built in on/off switch completed our purchase. We did a quicky shopping at the grocery store too since the store is a block away from the tractor store. We had 39 chickens left out of the birds we slaughtered and we have to eat our way through them. I had the crazy idea to make Carne Guisada but instead of beef, I substituted chicken. It came out pretty good and we're having it for lunch today (Monday).
Back at the farm, I borrowed Kristi's golf cart - boy, that thing comes in handy - and hauled the bags of feed to the tack room. When I opened the door I took in the sad state of the room after months of work. It needed cleaning up. So the hay was restacked, the empty feed bags were flattened and stacked, unused feeders and waterers were put away and everything was moved, swept under and replaced. Now it looks good for a few more weeks.
The next task for me was to rototill a 50ft x 50ft area for Kristi's goards. With our tiny little tiller this took a while. The dirt was very easy to work here. Very sandy and with very few rocks. This would be great for herbs. Once the tilling was done I raked the weed remnants out and smoothed it in preparation for planting. Then I began building the watering system. This was all made from 1" PVC with several valves for different circuits. I am taking the easy way out this time around and I'm running a hose from the nearest spigot to the PVC part of the system. I'll make it permanent later, digging a trench, altering the plumbing underground and putting in a run of pipe to the gourd field. For now it's quick and, believe me, dirty. Kristi got busy planting before I was finished. A few dozen gourd plants of 2 different kinds were planted. Since there was a lot of room left over, potatoes went in. That was it for yesterday. Today, who knows, peas, beans or more herbs may be planted. Barbecue has to go back into the vet today to have her stitches removed.

Ouch... ouch ouch

Weekends are tough, but Monday mornings, when I have to get up early and then go to work are the worst. Groan, creeeeaaaak, groan. Ouch.

This weekend, Mike cleaned out the tack room which needed it, fer sure. He also tilled another patch of land for my gourds (about the same size as the corn) and I planted them on Sunday, as well as two rows of potatoes. It was a gorgeous day and I have the sunburn to prove it.

The purple martins, fascinatingly fascinated with US, seem fairly ensconced in their way of life in their special purple martin condominiums. We have several hummingbirds, now, and we feel that the hawks that have been flying over are nesting on the creek side of the property.

The guineas are fine, totally afraid of us in the brooder box inside the chicken coop. The chickens don't know where to lay their eggs and found a new spot behind the door in the second stall. We have to go on hunts to find them, especially if their privacy has been 'invaded' and they have to find a new place. Of course, this assumes they can remember where they last laid. They are chickens, after all.

We are weaning Spot, the kid, and are down to feeding it 2 cups of special brew per day, now. It is already eating goat chow and after this batch of milk (2 gallons), we're done with all that nonsense! He will be the first to be sold. Sell your kids.. doesn't that sound like a dream?

I bought more seeds (fennel to keep the bugs off the gourds, and a few other things) and will be having 9 cabernet vines mailed to me soon. That will bring our grape crop up to 16, but the other vines are not wine grapes. One is a concord grape plant that seems to be doing great and the others are Thompson seedless. I mulched a lot of things this weekend, raking leaves from the backyard and using some of that for mulch of the fruit trees and the rest of the leaves I mixed into the compost.

I also cleaned out the non-producing pots in the greenhouse, moved some stuff around and made way for the new batch of stuff I just planted -- beans, cilantro. I still have a bunch of peppers that need to go in the ground.

The watermelon vines have taken off and are doing quite well now that I've gotten rid of the fire ants on the mound.

I asked Mike to check the chipper shredder and I'm glad he did. He found that the plastic gas holder on the outside of the machine was leaking at the midway seal. It will have to be replaced, but in the meantime, we can just fill it up half way so that it doesn't leak over the side.

The corn seems to be doing well and I have to keep fertilizing it (organic fertilizer) so that it stays green and healthy. The tomato plants are doing well, although they're experiencing leaf curl. I may have to fertilize them, as well.

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

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.

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?

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.

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.

A few hail stones.  

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.

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.

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.

The Cornish Cross chicks at about 3 days old. 

Cornish Cross chick brooder. The chicks can regulate their own heat by moving closer to or farther away from the lamps.