In a year's time

I have learned some things about poultry and I have learned some things about myself.

First the birds:

• Hens, I have learned, can be quite particular about their brooding grounds. The anticipation of those first eggs...
• Even though they tend to poop where they eat and sleep - they have a fine appreciation for cleanliness/fresh hay.  
• They like the rain.
• They put themselves to bed before it gets dark.
• Hens like to chase and eat bugs - and they are good at it!
• They like me best when I am holding food.

and now, me:

• When I put my mind to it, I can stay on topic - mostly.
• This blog has been and hopefully will continue to be a good creative outlet.
• My photos have better quality when I take them with Aaron's fancy camera takes rather than my "Ah, it's good enough" camera.
• Amazingly, I was able to keep pretty upbeat or at least neutral topics. (i.e. I didn't use my creative outlet as an outlet to deal with annoyances or irritations {i.e. I didn't b*tch.})
• I prefer to "farm" in mild temperatures, in the daylight, when it is not raining and there are few mosquitoes.
• I have grown more and more hesitant to order eggs out at a restaurant.

Happy Anniversary!

Today marks my first year with Kathy and Eleanore.

Happy Anniversary, Ladies!

Thanks for all of your hard work.

When I went up to the coop this morning to deliver their anniversary cards, this is what I got in return.

Tragic Comedy or Comic Tragedy?

A couple years ago, Aaron invited Dave to come live at our house. For a while Dave was greeted on a regular basis when we returned home, " 'Sup, Dave?!" or "Dave! How's it going?" and once in a while upon our departure, "See ya later, Dave."

Through the years Dave just didn't have the same luster and shine that he used to. None the less, Dave remained.

Last night I went to water some plants on the front porch and came across Dave. Not an unusual place to find him, but he wasn't looking very good.

If anyone is having trouble with the fact that our lawn gnome was named, you probably didn't watch David the Gnome during your youth.

Sunday's Visitor

With the pitchfork in hand I headed up to the coop to perform a hay exchange. A dark shadow in the brush behind the coop caught my attention. I was ready to take on this demon if need be. After all, I was armed. I think it started to approach me first. I paused. And then the demon wagged its tail. I pat my hand on my thigh and the happy creature came over for some lovin'.

I noticed how skinny she was and how old and tattered her collar looked. So back down the hill I went with a friend in tow. I got her a bowl of food and POOF! it was empty. She hung around for a little while while I tended to the chickens. She was very interested in my small flock.

When I was finished I called the number on her lone tag. The operator there called the owner. No answer. At this point the two of us are hanging out on the front porch. There may or may not have been bones involved. A couple of hours later the owner called us and said that Skinny Minnie here was not actually her dog. She had found her as a stray, kept her for a little while and then gave her to a foster. The foster kept her for a little while until she found a more permanent home.

After an early afternoon of phone tag and a calm evening with (newly dubbed) Roxy resting in the living room with Charlie - the what-ifs crept in.

What if we don't find her owner?  What if she was abandoned?  What if I fed her too much today?  What do we do with her tomorrow while we are at work?  Are we ready for a second dog? More importantly does Charlie want another dog? If we take her to the vet and don't adopt her will we still be charged?

After dinner I took some recyclables to the new bin and Roxy was right on my heels on the way out of the house. She decided to go meet the neighbors. Then all of the sudden runs down to the street while 2 cars are passing. (This rarely happens.) I said a 4 letter word in front of my neighbor and his kid - Sorry!- then chased after the little black dog. One of the cars stops and the driver side door opens...

(At this point a lot of thoughts are going through my mind and I am probably being unfair and extremely judgemental so I'll just say...)

Hoppy was reunited with her lady and Sir Charles still has sole reign of the kingdom.

Doing our part

...with the cart. The City of Knoxville has decided to let 20,000 households sign up for free curbside recycling. (There are still around 3000 carts available - click the link!)



Recycling


When I first heard the news I was very excited. Last week when our giant "cart" arrived (it is more like a garbage can, but bigger) my excitement was renewed.

For the past three years or so, Aaron and I have been above average recyclers. Admittedly, sometimes we got lazy and the collections in our homemade bins would overflow, and recyclables would hit the regular ol' kitchen wastebasket.  It really is amazing how much waste can be recycled. At our recycling highs, we would hardly have enough trash to take down to the street each week. But for the most part, we did well and made trips to the nearest recycling center every so often.

But now... the recycling center is coming to us!

Would it surprise you if I told you I had a song for this post?

Re Re Re Re Re Re Cy cle
Re Re Re Re Re Re use it
No No Do not trash it
No No Don't abuse it!

I cannot take credit for that lyrical genius. I learned that from a man named Ray Cycle. He wore green tights and a matching green cape. Here is a little sumpin' sumpin' about him  Recycling Superhero Zaps Trash With Song

Do Spoiled Chickens Make Rotten Eggs?

Last night on my way home from work I had to stop by Tractor Supply. Instead of walking straight back to the 50 lb bags of layer pellet, I perused. I looked at some clothes and boots, books and magazines, feeders and traps... and then I came across treats. Treats for my chickens. I debated between the pecking block and a bag of mixed seed. The pecking block is basically 20 lbs of mixed seed stuck together in the form of a cube.

I picked it up.
I put it down.
I picked it up again and read the label.
I made a "hmmmn" face.
I put it down.
I picked up the bag of mixed seed.
I made a slightly different "hmmmn" face.
I walked around the aisle and heaved the 50 lbs of pellet into my arms.

This morning Kathy and Eleanore were treated to a delicious breakfast of mixed seeds and vegetables.

Remembering

This weekend I ran in the Firefighters 5k in Sweetwater, TN.  This year, on the 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks, the goal for the race was to have 1 runner for each of the 343 FDNY members who gave their lives.  I shared my bib number with Jose Guadalupe. I did not know him. Today I know a little more about him, though only through what was shared about him after his death.

Remembering NYC Firefighter Jose A. Guadalupe

Sad news about Jose.

Chinese Lanterns

Last Saturday I went with my mom (and my dog) to Ijams for a wildflower walk. It was put on by Knoxville Parks and Rec. I learned a few names of flowers and weeds that I didn't know before and also solved the mystery of the plant residing where my carrots should be.

Chinese Lanterns.

I don't think they are very drought resistant. But, if they did survive the dry spell followed by a gully washer, they might continue to ripen and turn red. After that the pod will kind of deteriorate into a lace that surrounds a red ball.

I wish I took these last two pictures. But I didn't. Google Image Search didn't either, but that is where I found them. (I have gotten really lazy about credit where its due. My apologies well deserving artists!)

Life is just a bowl of cherries

Or in this case, cherry tomatoes.

Last week Charlie and I were on a walk around the neighborhood and we met one of our neighbors for the first time. She asked if I wanted some tomatoes, that the rain had knocked down her plants... (which seemed odd last week because we actually haven't had any rain for weeks on end until just this past Saturday) anyway I could come back around and she would have some picked for me.

Charlie and I continued on our walk and I thought about what I could do with 4 or 5 tomatoes.

What I should have been thinking about was what I could do with 4 or 5 pounds of tomatoes. Roberta had a produce bag full for me, enough to fill my second largest mixing bowl.

Action! (trying again)

I am experiencing some technical difficulties. In the end though, I suppose it doesn't really matter - I mean, I am filming chickens, and talking with them. My interview skills among foul could use a little work though.

Lights Camera...

Sorry, No action. At least not yet. Apparently I uploaded the video from my camera onto the computer and failed to download to the Picasa album...

But maybe you are curious how the hair fixing is going? Maybe? Anyone?
Well, I haven't resorted to an unkept pony tail yet.
Here is a sneak peak (on a day I remembered to take a picture!)

Seriously? I didn't get that one moved over either?!  You'd think it was Monday.

Self Imposed September Challenge

This photo - courtesy of Glenn Myers - has inspired me to do something about my mane.

I wear a pony tail for some portion of every day. Sometimes it hangs from the center, sometimes it sits over one shoulder. Most of the time, it doesn't contain all of my hair, as detailed here with the whispies at my forehead, ears and neck.

In my defense for this particular shot... It was early. I mean EARL-Y when I got ready for this event (Storm the Fort Tri). Somehow though, I feel like this is probably how disheveled I look on a regular basis, regardless of waking hour or race day. (Feel free to keep any comments to yourself unless its a complement. Self realization, even in terms of vanity, can be kind of a doozy.)

So here is my challenge for myself:
Every day for the month of September I shall attempt to fix my hair in a manner appropriate for the place I am going. (I'm not ruling out pony tails all together. I'm starting to get serious about running again.)

Attempt is the key word though. I don't have a lot of hand-eye-mirror coordination, nor do I have a lot of product knowledge to achieve or maintain desired look. I'm going to try though and eventually reveal my results through pictures taken along the way.

Wish me luck!

Sum Sum Sum(mer) Time

Get excited. The numbers are in for August.


2 Birds
Kathy and Eleanore survived the heat of the summer beautifully.

0 Traumatic Experiences
...Which is really good considering the quantity and proximity of natural disasters recently.

46 or 49 eggs for the month
Some days I am really good at remembering to make the tally mark, some days I am not.

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!