Thursday confessionals

I have fond memories of the candy we used to buy as kids.
I think that's a thing in every generation right?

One thing we used to buy when we'd go camping or to the cottage was that MacIntosh toffee caramel stuff. Like a thick strip of tooth breaking sugar wrapped in a plaid box- green and red. It had scores marked into it so you could presumably break of a chunk and enjoy it. I think our parents bought it because they knew we'd have to gnaw for hours on the thing in silence... in fear of ripping our teeth from our head.

I found some at the dollar store yesterday. I was so excited... I'd forgotten about the part where my teeth would become trapped in the effort to enjoy it. I got it home and bit in and.... got stuck for a few seconds.  So I tried to snap off a piece. And just bent it.

The grown-up brain parts in me kicked in... I grabbed the cutting board and knife that was sitting on the counter and chopped that sucker up into enjoyable bites... sure, it shattered and the pieces adhered to the cutting board, but who cares? I'd won.

I spent all day yesterday savouring little bites of the stuff, prying the pieces off the cutting board with my fingernail or the knife. SO GOOD!

Last night I absentmindedly picked the last of the flakes off the board and popped them in my mouth while I talked with a friend. The last piece didn't melt.

It just... sat in my mouth.

I tried bending it with my teeth, maybe it was just a little more dried out than the others?

Nope.

I spit out the offending piece into my hand... to discover it was in fact a dried out piece of raw chicken from the previous night when I'd used the cutting board....

I promise to wash all my dishes from now on and not leave them on the counter.

More poking

I blame Henny.
She's a bit of a pecker.
She's now pecked two eggs in her life enough to puncture through the shell and the membrane. Today she just happened to peck one of the hatching eggs. Thanks jerkface. 

When I told a friend who knows me really well, she responded "by jerk [you] really mean sweet!"

So today I got to break a day 6/7 egg.

I was a little more careful breaking this one... did I mention the watery whites? I may have gotten squirted last time. Sadly Henny's pecking had broken the yolk sac too. This one was actually dead.

The yolk mixed with the whites making things harder to see this time. But if you google day 6 or 7 images of a chick's development. .. you'll literally get the picture.

I fed it to Ruebendog.
I should have thought quickly though... he lapped up all the goo, I totally could have gotten a better look at the egg alien before it too was licked out of the bowl.

Get me my poking stick.

Warning: vegans and some squeamish vegetarians may want to skip this post. Farmers and sciencey folks will be happy.

So I toy back and forth with the idea of eating my laying birds in the fall and buying new layers in the spring. With a tiny flock like mine, financially it works out to be about the same- $35 to feed the girls through the winter, or about the same to pick up 3 ready to lay birds in the spring... and I wouldnt have to spend time fighting a losing battle with ice and snow to keep them happy.
Two things hold me back, Cheepers is way more pet than potential food... the second reason is related, if I'm standing on principle that the birds are pets not livestock for the bylaw changes, I probably shouldn't eat the rest of my "pets" (until the changes to the bylaw happen.... )

Anyway, last week I decided to try hatching some eggs under my broody Cheepers. I got some fertilized eggs from the Mack's farm and marked them with a pencil before putting them under her.
That was Wednesday night.
I was clear that I took too many eggs early on. When one of the other girls would lay an egg, Cheepers would scoop it up too... pushing out one of the fertilized eggs from under her to make room. I took away one of the eggs the first day. Ruebendog ate it.

Sunday night I went out to the coop to get the eggs that had been layed that day, when I reached in the nest box I found that Cheepers had managed to scoop all three new eggs, and one of the hatching eggs was pushed aside. Cold.
No sense in leaving a now dead egg in the nest... it would just stink if I left it too long, so I brought it inside for Rueben,  figuring it would have a gross red spot in it, but he wouldn't care.

I failed to realize how quickly eggs develop.

I mean. Eggs are amazing.
They get layed,  and if they are fertilized they stop developing if the temperature drops below 80... and they just sit in stasis until the temperature goes back up. This means mamma hen can lay an egg every day for a few days, then get broody and sit on those eggs... And they'll all hatch on the same day!!!

So. My eggs were layed on Wednesday by a number of different birds, they were sat on Wednesday night... Sunday night...
4 days in (5 if you count that they were laid that morning and didn't really drop too far in temperature)

The first thing I noticed when I cracked the cold dead egg was that the white had changed consistency.  It was really runny. Like water. When it dropped into the dog dish I realized two other things.... I had no idea how long it took for a chick to develop... there in the dish was a tiny chick shaped blob about two millimeters in size... with a giant eyeball, and two bright red veins that reached well out into the white of the egg...

So gross.

So of course I poked at it.

About a second later I realized that a cold egg doesn't mean it's a dead egg.

At 5 days it had a heart.

A light fluttering heart making those tiny veins pulse.

I freaked out and fed it to the dog.

Be still beating heart.

The worst part is... I want to break open all the eggs one by one now to see how far they've developed each day.

adventures in urban homesteading. (or) the time I lost my shit.

(apologies for my language...I drop the f-bomb a lot when I'm mad)

I'm going into my 3rd winter with Chickens in town.
I could go on and on about ideas around building the perfect chicken coop- VENTILATION, basic chicken care, and about how frickin' fantastic watching those bumbling featherbutts can be... but I won't... come and ask me questions some time.
My coop is the most hobo-built-redneck creation out there. It's built out of spare pieces of wood and parts off an old rabbit cage (Norty's old cage). It's been great- located inside my shed it's been mostly preditor proof- last fall a set of raccoon prints appeared on the lower side of the coop inside the shed, but the little guy never returned.
And there was the run-in with the fox this summer that made off with 2 of my meat birds, but that was a small run out in the yard, not the coop...

Last night I went to bed early- I've done a string of day shifts, and I find that getting things done and out the door before 7am is hard work... I fell asleep by 9:30 and was sound asleep in my own bed by 10.... at midnight I heard the chickens screaming.

I fumbled around and found a house coat in the dark (because I still haven't bothered to plug the lamp back in under my bed!) and went running out... three of the girls were in the run... Darlene was screaming bloody murder...The girls are never in the run at night- unless the coop door has blown shut and locked them out. So I run into the shed... and come face to face with 4 young raccoons! one took off right away and I never saw it again... one was in the coop eating an egg, and two others climbed up ontop of the coop.

I did what any chicken farmer would do.

I grabbed my broom and started playing raccoon baseball. I whacked the heck outta them- I shoved them, I hissed at them. I yelled (several times) "you mother fuckers get out of my fucking chicken coop!'

What did they do? They took it! One just sort of rolled his eyes at me while I swung at him. Oh, I made contact- once or twice the broom was bitten. Eventually I chased them out of the shed- they ended up on the roof. I could hear them pacing above me, so I went outside and started beating them again- one climbed into the run- where the girls started pecking at him.

This is likely where someone might have called the SPCA on me, because I grabbed the wooden pole that I use to prop open the run door and took a few swings at the beastie. In frustration (because I couldn't reach the jerks on the roof) I had thrown the broom at the coons while I spat out every swear word I've ever learned, so the pole made a great replacement.

It's still on the roof (the broom I mean).

The wooden pole was heavy- I couldn't swing it at the coons on the roof, and it was only 3 feet long. So I switched to the bamboo poles from the garden, at 5 feet long they make an amazing switch... and I could reach the peak of shed roof from the ground.

For the next half hour I ran from one side to the other of the shed, whipping raccoons. I was not gentle... but they seemed to think it was a joke.... till I climbed on the roof of the run and got on the roof of the shed and tried to play raccoon golf.

Finally I'd hit them in the head often enough that the decided to (slowly) leave.
They climbed down onto the fence... where I hit them some more.
Then they climbed over the side of the fence into the neighbour's side- still hanging onto the lattice of the fence.  I spent some time jabbing them in the stomach with my bamboo pole. That pissed them off and they fell off the fence- one fell off the fence and got stuck, that was pretty much the best moment of the night... I may have been laughing manicly at that point. I only stopped when I heard myself loudly say "take that mother fuckers!"

I also realized at that point that my housecoat wasn't done up, and that I was still wearing my mouth guard.

Awesome. Thank goodness I live on a quiet street.





epilogue: I chased the coons again around 3am. No chickens were (seriously) harmed. Tonight I built a cage inside the coop to house the girls till I can do some serious repairs to the side of my delapitated old shed. Vacation/shed repairs start next Monday if anyone would care to join me.

8 year olds

6-10 is my favourite age for all humans.
Seriously.
They're acquiring knowledge so fast their parents can't keep up, they're discovering amazing things... and hormones haven't gotten in the way and screwed everything up.

If every child could be between 6-10 forever, well... I'd have 30 children.

Anyway, there's an especially bright 8 year old that I have the honour of spending time with. She's one of my ukulele students, and this kid... she's super special. I have to try not to laugh at everything she says, try not to write down EVERYTHING she says- you can see the engines firing as she tries to sort out the world around her... she's making other kids look bad.

REAL BAD.

Tonight we were talking about the hatching eggs that I'd picked up the day before. Her mom was asking a little about the process, and of course... it's about chickens, so I'm more than happy to share what I know. I'd said moments before, that I'd had a rooster but ended up eating it- because roosters weren't welcome in the neighbourhood. And that I'd had to get my eggs from a friend who had roosters.

Without missing a beat she asked "oh, what do rooster eggs taste like?"
Quick recovery answer about eggs that were fertilized with a look of apology to her lovely parents.
And we all doubled over laughing.

peep peep

I had a super visit with the Mackattacks this morning. 

I may have a spinning buddy! 

There was chasing and wrestling of sheep, some donkey scratches and kisses, eye to eye with a beautiful peacock, and a wicked game of tag between a red squirrel and the blue jays... which of course led to singing "green forrest". 

A very lovely morning.

AND, I brought home some hatching eggs. 

I'm very excited about the idea of hatching some chicks, and my girls are the broodiest birds in the land. "Start sitting on the nest the first week of August and never come off? Don't mind if I do!" Said two of my hens.... Until about 4 days ago. Which is good, Maria especially needed to get off the nest... but 4 days before I get my first hatching eggs??? 

Really?

I mean... really?

-made a comment about the lack of winter and the hate of "rainy season".... so of course it's freezing rain tonight.

- Also sold my Djembe, for way too low of a price, but I figured there was no sense in keeping it around if I wasn't going to use it, and if I was going to sell it- it needed to get out of the house right away before I changed my mind.

-12 pairs of slippers in the first 7 days of badbunny.ca , a pretty good start. Tonight I started cutting fabric for some market bags. I have an idea to make them a little stronger than the current design- so they will hold heavy loads like groceries. 

super

I was SO excited when this happened.. mostly because I couldn't wait to write it down, to craft it into something awesome. Seriously... I even said out loud "I can't wait to blog about this". But, well...

So, I'd collected the eggs from the chickens and brought them into the house (actually a lot more than just that happened but for the sake of this being a short story...). I'd placed them in a bowl near the sink... somehow, Cheepers (one of the chickens) had managed to get in the house, hopped up beside the bowl, squatted and plunked another egg down and it landed in the sink.

ok.. so.. uh... here's the thing...

The bowl was on the floor. The egg bounced into the sink from the floor.
That's when I realized I was dreaming (in my dream) and said (out loud to the people in my dream) "oh never mind, I'm dreaming again." To which everyone in the dream frowned at me, because by announcing that they were actually dream-people, I'd essentially killed them. They all turned and left the room.

Once my brain realized what I'd just done, it whisked me off to another dream.

blue eggs

Happy Easter~

Easter eggs.

I've been eating them... Right now I'm waiting (impatiently) for an egg from one of the "littles" - one of the bantam cochins I purchased 10 weeks ago.

I was sure that the splash (Darlene) was going to lay first, but Maria has been squatting like crazy, and today she's turning in circles in the coop- meanwhile, Cheeps won't get off the nest.

I've got a serious craving for chicken wings.

Biggest relief

I've been worried about approaching my immediate neighbour in regards to the hens. She's grumpy. And strange.

I've decided she's just really awkward.

Anyway, Monday she was outside (honestly, I've spoken to the woman maybe 6 times since I moved in two years ago)... so I approached her and told her that I've had chickens since last summer. And then I gave her some eggs... and waited to see what would happen... and she was SO excited!!! She even came over to meet Darlene and Maria (Cheeps is broody right now, so she remained invisible inside the coop).

Fears relieved, the hens haven't made any enemies... fingers and toes crossed as I wait for the other neighbour's house to sell.

dark

Real spring is back.

Cold and dark.

I've lost all my enthusiasm to get anything done.

How do other people manage to accomplish anything?

I just want to sit around and take pictures of my pets.

It's Bunday Sunday. Spot the bunny?

fingers crossed

happy 25th week birthday littles!

The Bantam Cochins are 25 weeks today... know what that means? Eggs! Soon!

All bets are that the splash (Darlene) will be the first of the two to lay. The Blue, Maria N'coco, is a little smaller and her comb and face aren't as red as Darlene's is.

I've been trying to get Cheepers (the black hen) to use a new nesting box [re: crate from the clementines] I've even been putting eggs in it so she'll get the point. Today she rolled the other eggs out of the box and into the spot where her old box used to be... and laid an egg there. I'm still not quite sure HOW she did it.

One of my neighbour's homes is up for sale. This makes me nervous... what if they're really against urban chickens?

side note: did I mention the old couple next door to me? I offered them eggs and they turned them down, saying that they thought eggs should come from the store in packages, and that they "like[d] me, but who knows what might be wrong with those eggs". I also heard this from a friend of mine. Which, makes me wonder how we ever became friends in the first place.

Anyway, it means I've been keeping the girls in their run- no time out free ranging... I don't know when potential buyers are going to be going through the house. The backyard to that house meets my yard with about 20 feet of chain link fence... perhaps that's the side where I should be putting the hedge in first? I'll hold tight, they might be city folks who'll want a high privacy fence (it's a lovely expensive house, the sort that always ends up with a high privacy fence).

bounce

Wish I'd had my camera with me when I let the ladies out for their daily "free range" time.

My chickens are chicken.

The snow is terrifying.

Add the fact that poor Darlene and Maria N'coco (the newer hens, I changed their names again- story to follow) are just learning about their wings, and we've got a chicken comedy routine like none other!

Darlene and Maria N'coco are young, and though they lived in a lovely coop and run, never were given the opportunity to stretch those wings and fly. Chickens are not known for their flight abilities... As they get older, they'll find it more difficult. For now, they can fly up-ish. And they can fly out and down-ish... they're best flying from something they've climbed up on (like the wall of the run, or off of a straw bale) to a point a few feet below.

Maria is more cautious about getting into things and only flies if Darlene flies, and she's half-hearted about it. She'll flap her wings and plunk lazily and ungracefully on top of the dog, or on Cheepers, or in the water dish.. whatever... usually about a foot and a half away from where she "took off".

Darlene though... she's scared ... or more chicken... of everything. But, she doesn't seem to realize she's the one in control of her body. She gets an idea and goes for it... and then...

She sees snow. She doesn't want to land in it! So, instead of dropping down the steps into the coop, she freaks out and flies into the wall, bounces off the wall, bounces off the steps, bounces off the other wall.... and lands in the snow... all while still flapping her wings frantically.

She spies Cheepers snacking out on the corn and grain on the snow covered lawn... hops up out of the run, onto the edge of the run... prepares to drop down to the treats.... REALIZES THERE'S SNOW... and starts flying.... and flying... till she's across the yard, gaining some height... nowhere to land but in the snow.... so she runs into the fence, bounces off the fence, flies till she bumps into the rain barrel and bounces into the snowdrift behind the lumber pile... and squawks till I come rescue her.

I'm telling you... GOLD comedy routine.

nice

While walking the pooch last night I ran into a neighbour. While she did recoil in horror when I told her that I'd eaten Camilla the rooster, she gave me a nod and said "thank you for not being a hypocrite".

(backstory- when Cheep the chick found her way home with me last summer, I promised the neighbours "no roosters- it's breakfast or dinner for the chicken")

update

Cam was very tasty, a little stringy- but he was a different breed than the type I've bought in the stores all my life... that, and he was 27 weeks old- verses the 8 weeks factory chickens live out.

Picked up my two new little hens today- I think I picked up the wrong two! I was suppose to get one splash, and one blue, but ended up with two blue. I think the other lady who was part of our "chicken carpool" was suppose to get two blues.

I was too excited to even think about it when I picked them up... maybe I'll be going for a drive in the morning.

it's -24 out right now.... everyone is tucked snugly into a cardboard box with a blanket over them for protection... the boxes are actually quite warm, I stuck my hand into cheeper's box- I could feel heat in the box. very neat.

which came first?

The fact that I ate my first home grown egg on the same day I processed my first home grown chicken isn't lost on me. This strange life cycle condensed. Cycles.

Yesterday Cheep laid her first egg. So this morning, I fried it up and had it on a home made english muffin.

Tonight I (humanly and calmly) killed my other chicken, sliced up onions and carrots and potatoes and put them all together in a pot for tomorrow's supper.

While the act of taking a life was difficult, looking at the cycles and systems inside Cam (previously known as Camilla until he started to crow) was such an amazing thing.

I could do it again.

I learned a lot, Cam was patient, and he'll be enjoyed.