Free for Interpretation

Vegetarian Fed Hens.

Do you think that was on the job application at the egg plant?

Circle the adjective that best describes you:
herbivore
omnivore*
carnivore*

*Eating meet does not immediately disqualify you from this position...


This happens from time to time. I see a phrase and understand exactly what it means, what the intentions are, and then... for fun I see if I can give it another meaning.

For example, the stool that resides in the tool room at work that is labeled "shop." I suppose its main purpose is to convey "Hey, don't take this stool out of here, this is where it belongs." But sometimes when I pass by, maybe that seating option is telling me to "go ahead, get yourself something nice."  And that garbage can with the name Skip on the side of it? Maybe that is name of someone on the cleaning crew, or maybe, just maybe, it is encouraging people to travel with a little more spring in their step.


Never a dull moment in this noggin!

The 1.00 Acre Wood

(Not to be confused with the 100 Acre Wood.)

I was looking at a property map of home sweet home today at KGIS and realized that of our 1 acre, I have probably only tread on half of it.  Since our lot is long and narrow, there is quite a bit of unexplored territory beyond the coop. "Quite a bit" as in, the other half acre.

Charlie may not have even been into the depths of the woods. When he chases rabbits he usually stops short of the tree line, puffs out his chest, raises his head, and then returns to the house with his tail high and his tongue dragging.
 

A friend at work has been talking a lot lately about going ginseng digging. I don't think the terrain in our neck of the woods is quite right for prolific ginseng growth, but it won't hurt to look. I just hope I don't find any snakes. Or better yet, they don't find me.
 

Lost in Translation

Yesterday I decided to type for a while the way I hear some people speak on a regular basis. Sometimes I admire the casualness of the dialect, other times I want to - well, other times it can irritate the bajeebers out of me. (My bajeebers are much better off left alone and unprovoked.)

This past weekend somebody chuckled at my use of the word sneakers. Sneakers. Up until 6th grade, I knew no other term for that particular style of shoe. When my family moved south and I started at a new school I was really worried that I wouldn't be allowed in the gym. Tennis Shoes Only.

I pictured the white adidas shoe with the green tab at the back of the heel that I had seen my uncle wear.

I probably told my mom about my concerns and that we needed to go shopping. She helped me understand.

Occasionally I pick up a new term or phrase that I have never heard before and if it is one that I like, try to incorporate it into my daily conversations. Most of the time I fail miserably and it comes out akward and forced. But it usually gives me something to laugh about.

Eats bin a wall...

Ah fill lock Ah ain't had much in the way of sayin bout chickens these days. Ah reckon cause not too much bin goin own.  Ah feed in water 'em same as usual. Day bin layin eggs same as usual. Poopin' too.

What?

I have noticed recently that Eleanore is the first one into the coop and up to either the feeder or the water basin when I am there visiting and refilling. The other day she pecked at my ring as I put the basin of fresh water back in. (I guess she was a little thirsty for some clean, hay free water.) Kathy is always close but never between me and Eleanore.

This past weekend I fed and watered the ladies early on Saturday a.m. Sunday afternoon when we got back in town I got to witness the Hungry March - two hens frantically patrolling the fenced perimeter occasionally pecking into the dirt. Honestly, it made me feel a little guilty that I didn't top off the feeder, but it was entertaining. I'll have to try and get it on video.

Lucy in Disguise

Last week I reported that a friend found out that one her hens was actually a rooster. She has since found out that 2 of her hens are roosters. Little Gerri now Little Jerry.

If Lucy maintains her feminine status I have a feeling she will be one busy bird. Then again, if she is really a Lucas there could be other issues. For instance - no eggs. How dissapointing.

An admission

Admitting you have a problem is the first step.

See where the grass meets denim... yeah, up there, at my knees, that is my problem. That is how tall the grass in the "garden" is. 

Ah hem. Was.

And, save for these babies:

 the garden has been returned to yard.

Up until last night I was convinced these plants were carrots. Makes sense... that is what I planted there. The thing is, the foliage just doesn't look like carrots. Can anybody help me out? What are those seed pods?

Its all about the Ears (i.e. I'm a nerd)

I had a conversation with a person the other day that has an allergy to white shelled eggs, but not brown. From what little I think I know about chickens and eggs, the only difference between white eggs and brown is the shell color. I was intrigued, so I did a little "research".

White eggs often come from hens with white ear lobes.

Brown eggs often come from hens with red ear lobes - like Kathy and Eleanore.

The beautiful blue eggs come from Araucana hens. (Must be to make up for the butter face - "That's a good looking hen, but her face...")

After gathering some information I have formed this hypothesis:

The white eggs this person has consumed have mostly been from the grocery store.

The brown eggs this person has consumed have mostly been from free range or backyard chickens.

Backyard birds, often red ear-lobed, have a different diet than white ear-lobed factory (battery) hens, therefore - WAIT FOR IT - the allergy originates with the chicken feed!

Gender Issues



When I first got my pullets and they weren't laying any eggs, a lot of people suggested that maybe I had roosters. As we know now this was not the case. My toddler-aged chicks have grown up nicely into hens.

A friend of mine was not so lucky. Mrs. Utz (the mother of my best high school friend, Sarah) started with three chicks; Patty, Little Gerri and Lucy, only to find out that Patty is really a Patrick.

I decided to do a little research on gender assignment of young poultry. I use the term research loosely. Maybe 'Google search for instant gratification of curiosity' fits better. Anyway, I came across this table which answers another question I had about the term sex links. It is kind of obvious now.

Inside Outside Upside Down

Inside the workplace it is very cold. Or at least, I get very cold. My hands have got to be 20 degrees cooler than say, my neck. Cold fingers make intricate work more difficult. I wear a sweatshirt everyday and have been debating the addition of a scarf, gloves and maybe something to warm my nose.

Outside it is very hot. It is very, very hot in my car. My AC doesn't work anymore. Stopping is my greatest enemy when I am on the road.

This really didn't have anything to do with anything else. Just felt like sharing.

Oh, and by the way, so far the egg laying rate for August is 1 a day.  I'm hypothesizing the 50% decrease  has something to do with the heat.

A Poem.

(Not Charlie, just looks a little like him.)

Swimming

Swimming

In my swimming pool

When days are hot

When days are cool

In my swimming pool

Backstroke

Sidestroke

Fancy Diving Too!

Oh, Wouldn't you like to swim with me

in my swimming pool?

-unknown

It's a slow news day from the mini-farm. Really, a slow news week. Ever since the coop has been re-enforced there isn't that much excitement surrounding escapees or intruders. With the exception of those dang moths that are like scaled down stealth bombers, of course.

True or False

I realized the other day that I never posted the numbers for June or July. Well, I suppose I wouldn't be too late for July... however, I didn't keep track either month. You may not miss it, but I kind of like seeing the data over time. 

I have two excuses:

1. Summer vacation - no reading, writing, or arithmetic
2. I was overwhelmed with Squash!

Never said they were good excuses. So here is an alternative format for my monthly summary:

True or False

Hot - T

2 Hens - T

Eggs Collected - T

Traumatic Experiences - F

Kathy & Eleanore had successful budget talks - F

Fryday

Man, it's hot out there!

Extreme weather makes me aware of just how much I reeeaaally like "farming".
The hen house isn't all that far away from the people house...

...But, when it was cold and the weather was precipitous, tromping through the morning frost to break up a gallon of ice wasn't at the top of my list. 

...And now, with the high humidity and the mosquitoes thriving, I find myself grateful for city ordinances preventing me from bringing home a goat or sheep.

I still maintain that I would like to live on a farm. I'm just not so sure about the working there too.

Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard

Actually it was Charlie and me down on the greenway.

Yesterday morning I promised Charlie that we would go to the park after I got home from work. At the sounds of GO, PARK, and WORK his ears perked and his head tilted. (Work sounds a lot like walk when you are a spoiled dog.) He was ready and wasn't going to let me get out the door without breaking my heart or making me feel guilty about making him wait.

I held true to my words and after work we went to the park.

There weren't many dogs out last night. I saw maybe 4 or 5. There were quite a lot of people, most with some involvement with football practice, but also many out walking, jogging and riding bikes.

Charlie and I made our way through the greenway giving wide enough birth to other pedestrians.

We ended up playing "leap frog" with one couple - when we weren't stopped to sniff, we were covering more ground. Anytime we got near, the lady would grab her companion and drag him in between herself and my happy, tongue and tail wagging dog. The man gave me the stink eye.

Have you every seen a truly vicious dog out for a walk at the park? I am sympathetic to those who have had bad experiences with dogs - or any animals for that matter. (I was once bitten by a turkey.) But have a little faith in those who take their furry family members out in public. 



Seriously. Look at this face.



93 days

I came accross an article a little while ago where a Michigan woman was facing up to 93 days in jail for growing a vegetable garden in her front yard.



http://www.channel4.com/

So... vegetales can be bad for you. Especially if, say, you ignore your town/city ordinances and the first communications requesting you relocate your produce.

Cohabitants

Kathy and Eleanore are gracefully sharing their sweet hen house with a few other winged creatures.

Black Ninja Darting Moths.

I have a feeling that is not what they are regarded as in scientific-flying-insect circles. Although... I might just circulate a petition.

Forgetfulness

It has its perks...

...Such as this gladiola. Or these gladiolus? I'm not sure how many are there. I don't remember planting them and I'm pretty certain they weren't there last year. But I'm happy its there now.

Also, every once in a while, I will have a conversation with someone who reads my blog. I tend to forget that I have an audience and am immediately suspicious that they are stalking my chickens... and then I remember I wrote about it and shared it publicly.

 

Eleanore

(That's not really true. I know if anybody is stalking my birds, it's a critter that wants to eat them. But I have been caught off guard a time or two - What? How did you kn...Ohhhhhh right.)

Twist and Shout

I picked my first cucumber the other day. I used the same method I use when picking zucchini or squash: grab the veggie and twist up near the stem of the plant. Sometimes I come accross a pricker, but they are nothing compared to what is on a cucumber before it is ripe.

Hence, the shout!

Good News

"Good news!" I told Aaron after returning from the coop to find Kathy and Eleanore unharmed, "the gun turret won't be necessary."

After I told Aaron about waking up in the middle of the night to the sounds of predators making a ruckus, he suggested adding a gun turret to the impenetrable fortress.

It was one of those times where I was not sure if I woke up because I heard the noise or if I heard the noise because I woke up. Either way, it didn't sound like dogs and I was worried for my flock. (if you can call two chickens a flock).

So I am happy to report all is well on the mini-farm.

Humbled

I was having a fat day Saturday. If you are male, you may not have experienced this. However, if there is a lady in your life, you've probably been around it. If you are female and you don't know what I am talking about - lucky you is the nicest thing I can say.

I started my day in Lycra and spandex - not really materials that make me feel my best. (My sister-in-law and I were going for a swim and then a bike ride.) I was grumpy leaving the house and kept tugging at my top which would ride up over my hip fat and reveal the pudge.

After my shower I put on a shirt that I swear didn't use to fit like that. Amazingly, I didn't tear it off and throw it across the room. I did some house work - probably complaining to myself about how I hate doing dishes and wondering how long those leftovers had been in the fridge...

Later in the afternoon my mom and I went out and about and stopped for a light dinner at a fast food restaurant. I know what you are thinking. "You're having a fat day and you went to fast food? No wonder!" (We had salads thank you very much.)

While we were there an older couple walked in with winter coats on. They both had gray hair and seemed frail. They sat in a booth next to us just going on about their day. I tried to see what they had ordered without really staring. It didn't look like much.

I went up the counter and asked the cashier if they came in often. She said they did. "Do you think they are homeless?" She said she thought so, but that they drove a car. I asked if they sold gift cards and stopped whining about my ill-fitting exercise-wear and the chores to keep up my air conditioned home.

Matters of Size

I took waaaay longer than necessary editing this photo of the giant zucchini and pint glass. Probably anytime spent at all would have been too much for the point being made: Look at the size of that Zucchini!

But I enjoyed every minute of it.

Zwiebeln

Zwiebeln - the German trasnlation for onions. It is one of the few words I remember from our trip to Switzerland. If I remember correctly, it should be pronounced like this: ZVEEbeln.

This is the result from the half of an onion I threw in the lasagna garden compost and then transferred to the worm box and then back to the lasagna garden.

We didn't eat it. I don't know if it was ready to pick for eating. But it was falling over and starting to uproot, so I pulled it up and took a picture.

Oyster Shells

Oyster shells, the answer to all of your weak shell problems.

Ah ha!

"Thin egg shells are observed when calcium, phosphorus and vitamin D3 are not provided in diets at adequate levels. It is more often observed during periods of hot weather because calcium is conserved and retained within the hen's body less efficiently." 

- Mississippi Agricultural and Forestry Experiment Station


I had a bag of oyster shell gravel that I occasionally mixed in with the pellet so I mixed some more in. I was under the impression that the shells aided in digestion, but I guess they are more of a calcium supplement. So far so good.

Coping

A couple of weeks ago, my mind was put at ease. No, sadly Violet did not reappear. However, I am glad to know and report that she was loved. At first I was skeptical. I believed that my neighbor's dogs were miserable and needed to be saved. The truth is they just weren't as spoiled as I would have liked. Charlie has no idea how good he has it.

There is a small memorial in the backyard. A circle of stones around a plant, and a home made, hand drawn card. The picture is of Violet in the shade of the tree on a clear blue day. Inside, scrawled in crayon, it reads "We love you, Violet" along with all the names of the family.

I cried telling Aaron about it.

I still miss her.

Crack Under Pressure

Have you ever held an egg in one hand and just squeezed?

You know how it doesn't break?

Well this one crackled as soon as I touched it.

It is also a lighter color than any other egg from Kathy and Eleanore.

I went to throw it in the woods, it cracked some more before it left my hand and then, instead of following a nice arch through the sky it just kind of fell.

I'm not real sure what this means.
I'm looking into it.

There just aren't words...

...the things that find their way to my inbox...

Zucchini by Candlelight

Amusing myself during a power outage... which by the way, is out again.



It's too bad I can't rotate this now. I'd really like the top left to be the bottom right. Or maybe not.



Which one of these is not like the other?

So. That's my produce.

(and an interesting/decent shot of tea lights if I do say so myself)

The Coop Remains

Although I had imagined that I could turn this:

into this:

I am happily surprised by the robustness of the shanty. It is standing as strong as it was when I first brought the ladies home, even through this rash of high wind, heavy rain, storms we have been getting.

However, I just happened to come across this beauty.

So, given some time and more motivation than should be necessary, Kathy and Eleanore might see this in their future.

ConsumptYum

The battery charger for my camera is still packed in the backpack we took to New York City. Otherwise, this sentence would be a nice picture of home grown produce on the kitchen table. Zucchinis and Squash to be exact.

Aaron fixed dinner last night (that is a pretty regular occurence) and decided to throw some zucchini into the mix. At first I doubted the tastiness of the combination, but it turned out great. (We were having carribean jerk marinated chicken and pineapple if you were wondering. )

All of my eggs...

...in one basket.

My memory isn't real clear on this, but I am pretty sure this fine wire basket came with the house. As in, it was left behind. My mom thought it was pretty nice and encouraged me to put it to use. Most of the time I just carry the eggs back to the house in my hands or whatever empty vessel I happen to have with me after dispensing food/water. Sometimes they end up in a pocket.

When my mom was taking care of Kathy and Eleanore she used the pocket method. Since she often walked over with her dog, she needed to be able to hold the leash. Apparently, not every egg made the long voyage unharmed.

This morning, donned in my polka-dot boots, I collected 4 eggs and carried them home in the wire basket for the first time. I don't think it will be the last. It certainly was easier than juggling eggs and a door knob!

Squarsh

Just felt like throwing an "R" in there.

Oh man! I forgot to get a picture of the foliage on these zucchini and yellow squash.

It is incredible. One leaf could completely shade, say, a rabbit!

Actually, one rabbit tends to flee from the squarsh jungle every time I water it.

 Just a couple more days until Zucchini Bread! Mmmmmmmmmmmmn.

I apologize for the hurried manner of the photographs. I took them this a.m. before work and the battery in my camera was running low. I just felt the blog needed some pictures, it has been a couple days.

The Economics of Eggs

I just returned from Tractor Supply, where I bought my 3rd bag of layer pellet.

1 - 50 lb bag costs $16.45 after tax, tag and title. (Ok, just tax)
2 - 50 lb bags cost $32.90.

Guess how many eggs were laid with just 100 lbs of feed?
About 330 since the first egg in November.
That is a little over 10¢ an egg.
So for a dozen, $1.20.

For a dozen "cage-free" eggs the price is around $3.00.
And just to let you know, I am never so cruel as to cage my eggs. What?! I suppose you are expected to infer the hens are not kept in cages, but that is not what the name suggests.

Dwight charges $1.50 for a dozen of eggs from his flock.  (He used to charge $2.00.)

I don't charge anything, but I don't turn down baked good barters either.

I have no idea what a dozen large, white, grocery store, house name, eggs cost anymore. They never make it on the grocery list anymore.

Fill-in Farmer

While Aaron, my dad, and myself were on vacation, my mom took care of the mini-farm.

Kathy and Eleanore were very pleased with her attentiveness to their food and water. They told me themselves.

The plants in the yard were also very grateful to her for watering them. You should see the size of the zucchini plants now! The second round of cucumbers are coming in nicely too.

Thanks, Mom!

Charlie dog spent the week with Eric, Olivia, Ally and Myles dog.

Pretty much everything seemed to be in order when we got home.

Sadly, I have not seen my girl Violet. Maybe I really was the only one that loved her...

Checking In

 Last Thursday, Aaron, my dad and myself got in the car before dawn and started driving to CT. This is the house we stayed in while there. Beautiful New England. (Thanks Dan and Marianne!)

 Aaron ran his first 1/2 Iron distance triathlon of the year at Rev3 Quassy. I got to finish with him.

Aaron and I took a train into NYC.

 

On our way back to TN, we stopped in Pottsville, PA to tour America's Oldest Brewery. (My dad smiled as soon as I put the camera down.)

One more stop in Glade Spring, VA to Giardino's. Amazingly, calzones and cannolis were spared by the recent tornadoes.

ArithMAYtic

46 eggs for the month of May. 

At first that number doesn't seem quite right. 

Maybe I missed a few tally marks here and there. 

This evening, though - no eggs.

It is HOT...

maybe Kathy and Eleanore just need to get acclimated.

I know I do. 

0 Traumatic events for the month of May.

That is pretty good considering the kind of weather we have been having.

As in: Stormy. Tornadic even!

8+ new visitors to the coop in one day.

City dwellers are particularly interested in how agricultural animals are kept within the city limits.