I’ve gotta crow
Posted on December 15, 2009 - Filed Under animals, birds, chickens
Our rooster is just now coming into his own at almost 8 months. He’s big and bulky, and testing out his fertilization techniques and his crowing capabilities. Finally! We’ve been waiting and waiting for him to let loose. Since he is technically just an adolescent or cockarel, he may have been quietly practicing in his room in front of the mirror prior to taking it public for all we know.
Only problem is most of his cock-a-doodle-doos take place between the hours of 2am and 5am, when the sun hasn’t even though of rising yet. Luckily he’s not super loud, and our neighbors are not super close.
I thought the rooster crow was break of dawn activity. Is our rooster time challenged? Does he need an alarm clock? Was there a break in the time continuum? Turns out roosters crow all the time. Oh.
They’ll crow when they feel threatened, when a hen lays an egg, when a neighboring rooster crows, when there is lots of activity. In other words, whenever they feel like it. It’s associated with dawn as that’s when most birds are most active, and when most farmer types are waking and most likely to actually hear the crowing.
We’ll be getting a 2nd rooster soon just to keep things interesting. Something tells me we’ll be hearing a whole lot of crowing then.
I’ve gotta crow!
I’m just the cleverest fellow
‘Twas ever my fortune to know;
I give the sign and the sunlight will shine
And the forest will grow
And the rivers will flow
I’ve gotta crow!
– Peter Pan
You Can’t Keep A Good Garden Down
Posted on November 15, 2009 - Filed Under Activism, cabbage, farm maintenance, planting, sunflowers, tomatoes, vegetables
Despite my best efforts to ignore it, the garden just will not go away! I haven’t hoed or sown or watered in months (just don’t ask), yet still hot peppers, green & yellow bell peppers, chinese eggplant, sunflowers and even tomatoes are still popping up. Amazing.
I also have bottle gourds and one, just one, giant round basket gourd hanging on the vine. And chinese cabbage was getting ready for harvest before the goats broke into the garden and ate it all.
It just goes to show you, it really isn’t that hard to grow your own food. To paraphrase a current, trendy author who I won’t name ‘cuz although I agree with much of what he says, his (so not self-aware) arrogance annoys me: Anyone can afford “organic” food.
Pickin’ And A-grinnin’
Posted on November 15, 2009 - Filed Under dog, goats, pecans
Our yard is once again carpeted in pecans thanks to the blustery winds of non-hurricane Ida. Dogs, goats and chickens are eating them faster than I can pick. But luckily, there seems to be plenty to go around.
I have a new-fangled contraption to help pick this year and it is Awe. Some. It’s basically just a round wire cage on wheels and it pops the pecans off the ground and into the cage. I’d post a picture, but our camera broke. There ain’t no technology in country.
In any case, get out your cracker of choice, pecans are coming your way!
The Gospel According to Chicken (yeah, it’s a lil preachy)
Posted on November 15, 2009 - Filed Under Activism, animals, birds, chickens, food safety, ick!, nutrition, ridiculous city girl
This morning I woke up to the smell of stewing chicken. It drifted through the house, all the way back to the bedroom, and permeated my dreams until I woke thinking “what is that smell”? Honestly, it didn’t smell that good so early in the morning. I thought someone farted. Since both John and Jett were in our cramped bed, that was a very valid possibility.
I know the smell of chicken cooking isn’t that unique. But what makes this particular chicken special is this was our chicken: home-raised, home-butchered, home-cooked. I finally got up the nerve to march out to the storage freezer, grab one of those poor chickens and cook it without over-thinking it’s previous cackle and cricket-filled life.
What finally pushed me over the brink? Nasty chicken farms. Everywhere around here. But mostly chicken trucks. Seems like every day I pass a huge, open semi stocked with cages filled with the most pathetic and dirty, but huge, white chickens you’ve ever seen in your life. They’re smushed into these cages. More often than not you’ll see several with feet in the air like a cartoon only not so funny. These trucks and their sad chickens taunt me as I drive along the highway trying to pass them as quickly as possible. Pass enough of these and you too will take a pass on store-bought chicken.
No more industrial chicken for me. I don’t care how many buy one get one sales the freakin’ grocery store has. I decided only chicken from our farm or a friend’s — or none. So I came home, got out the crock-pot and after a small give of thanks to my formerly fine-feathered friend, started stewing. This chicken will become white chicken chili and quarts of canned chicken stock. I don’t know if I will actually eat it, but I might.
That is the next hurdle. I’m honestly not that big a fan of eating any meat in general. Just a personal thing. And I wouldn’t be eating chicken at this point anyway if it weren’t for my mom harping about protein and basically guilting me into it many years ago. Ironic. Guilt for not eating it; guilt for eating it.
Whether I eat it or not, the boys will. Well, Jett will if I don’t tell him where it came from. But that would be wrong. Especially for a boy who sees the dreaded chicken truck and wants me to let him out of the car so he can pick the locks on the cages and set them free.
I guess it comes down to this. Whatever you choose to eat and however you choose to eat it, although you may not want to know its history, health and demise — it’s better if you do.
The Tony Hawk School of Horseback Riding
Posted on September 20, 2009 - Filed Under animals, bitless bridle, children, horse, horseback riding, pasture, skateboarding
So I’ve been trying to work with Beautiful horse more since I’ve been pretty negligent over the past year. Yes, it’s been over 1 year since we brought these horses home and I’m not even riding! My feeling is, as picturesque as they are running around the pasture, if they don’t do more than eat a lot (which they do), then they might be better off elsewhere. Sigh. I’m becoming a hard ass when it comes to animals.
In any case, I’ve been trying to hook up with someone locally who could come out and help me a bit, but to no avail. So I’ve been trying to spend 1-2 hours per week actually saddling up, leading around, etc. Today, I led Jett around on Beautiful!
He was pretty freaked out at first: afraid he was going to fall off, that she was going to move to fast. None of which happened as we were just standing there, tied up to a post, wearing his skateboarding helmet for protection. I even through in a few skateboard metaphors: a horse is like a giant, breathing skateboard with no wheels…yah, not really. After a few minutes, he allowed me to lead him around. Then there was no stopping him. I couldn’t get him off. And when I finally did, he asked if we could do it again tomorrow. Which is good! Maybe he will get me motivated ‘cuz lord knows there’s nothing like a persistent, 7 yo know-it-all to get you off your butt if only to make it stop!
I also “rode” Beautiful. Notice the quote marks. I’m trying to get her to use this bitless bridle, but she’s fighting it and I don’t know why. We really didn’t get very far as a result. At one point, I actually thought she was going to roll me so that kind of ended our session. I was also wearing Jett’s skateboard helmet. Tony Hawk has been such an influence on my life lately. I wonder if he knows anything about horses?
Canning PSA
Posted on September 5, 2009 - Filed Under canning, cooking, fruit, pears, vegetables
I’m currently in canning mode (pesto, pear concoctions, whatever else comes along), so I’m cleaning out the storage cupboard of last year’s leftovers…which means you should too! Although I’ve heard stories of people safely keeping and eating their home-canned goods for years, we’re all a bunch of wusses now. Just kidding, it’s better safe than sorry now.
Today’s standard is most canned fruits are typically good for one year. Vegetables and meats for 2 years. Pesto, if frozen, up to 1 year; if refrigerated, up to 2 weeks.
If you ever have a can, no matter how old or new, where the seal is popped, the glass chipped, gas bubbles or an odd smell arise when opened — don’t eat it!
Now that I’ve scared the bejeezus out of you, lol, you can look forward to home-canned goodies coming your way soon.
I
Like sand in the hourglass… these are The Goats of Our Lives
Posted on August 23, 2009 - Filed Under animals, goats, inbreeding, just for fun
As we loaded up goats Topsy and Flash into the kennel in the back of the pickup truck that would be taking them to their new home, I came to a realization…
Baby goat Flash has been raised the past 4-5 months by the only goat mom she recognizes, Big Mama. However, Big Mama actually stole (goat-napped, if you will) baby Flash away from her rightful, true mom within hours of her birth. Her birth mom tried to get her back, but Big Mama physically threatened and mentally toyed with the birth mom until she gave up and ceded her only child. I like to think she only had the best interests of baby Flash in mind, as she herself was a young, single mom with no experience raising a baby — Big Mama could give baby Flash everything she couldn’t.
As I stared at Topsy and Flash side by side in the kennel, I realized…(CUE DRAMATIC MUSIC)…Topsy is baby Flash’s true mom. In an ironic twist of fate, birth mom and baby were finally reunited. Will Flash forgive her birth mom, Topsy, for abandoning her?! Will Topsy be able to win Flash’s love?! Stay tuned for answers to these and other burning questions on The Goats of Our Lives. (CUT TO COMMERCIAL)
9…10…a big fat hen
Posted on August 23, 2009 - Filed Under animals, birds, chickens, cooking, farm maintenance, goats, ick!
Today we traded 2 female goats for 10 chickens: 4 live layers, 6 frozen. The 4 new laying hens are a bit older than our current chickens and have already laid 3 brown eggs: 1 is your typical small grade egg, the other 2 are like mini egg-size, but edible. They’ll get bigger over time. I forgot how nice it is to go out into the back yard and come back with fresh eggs…loves it!
I haven’t quite come to terms with the frozen chickens yet. They started off the day like any other, unfortunately for them, within just a few hours time, it ended up a bit differently than normal. In return for one of the goats, our friends butchered our 6 remaining older hens. They’ll be good for stews, soups and stock — if I can just get past the memories of them pecking around the coop just a few hours ago. And the vision in my head of the last chicken in line to be butchered just staring at my friend thinking “traitor!”
I have a hard enough time eating poultry as it is. My (non)meat-eating litmus test has always been if it has 4 legs, fur and I keep it in my back yard, I’m not eating it. Will this be a turning point that includes 2 legs and feathers?
Thinning the herd
Posted on August 21, 2009 - Filed Under animals, farm maintenance, goats, inbreeding, this sucks!
Oh sad days.
I’ve finally committed to reducing our goat population. I’m such a sentimental fool, I cry over an old goat! I put an ad in Craigs List and a gentleman came and took 2 of the males: Peanut and our new baby, Bolt. Peanut wasn’t too hard to say goodbye too as he was/is kind of a pain. Bolt was hard. He is so freakin’ cute and he and his twin sister were inseparable. But therein lies the problem. I see them as brother and sister. And while they’re young, they act it. As they get older however, they see each other as fair game for mating. Then it gets crazy and you worry about finding your toothless goats sitting on the porch playing the theme from “Deliverance”.
We now have 5 goats. 3 more are committed to folks. The 2 girls will go to our friends in Thomasville so that’s not so bad. The 1 male will go to a guy down the road who has worse goat luck than us. He had maybe 30-50 small milk goats. He also had hordes of puppies that grew up into dogs with nothing better to do then chase down and hunt the goats when they escaped the fenceline — which is inevitable with that many goats — they’re tricky. They got all but 3! Ugh. So he’s starting over. I hope the goats fare better this go-round. I don’t approve of what went down, but I can certainly empathize.
Once we say goodbye to those 3, that will leave just Big Mama and Jim, the goat Adam & Eve of our farmlette. It will probably happen this weekend. And I will cry. But it’s the right thing to do on so many levels. And then if we choose, we can add new blood.
Oh and Big Mama’s already pregnant. It’s a vicious cycle.
A little sunflower poetry
Posted on July 6, 2009 - Filed Under news
A perfect beauty of a sunflower! a perfect excellent lovely sunflower existence! a sweet natural eye to the new hip moon, woke up alive and excited grasping in the sunset shadow sunrise golden monthly breeze.
Excerpt from Sunflower Sutra, Allen Ginsberg
John calls this our summer Christmas tree.
You’re expected to see only the top,where sky scrambles bloom, and not the spindly leg, hairy, fending off tall, green darkness beneath. Like every flower, she has a little theory, and what she thinks is up. I imagine the long climb out of the dark beyond morning glories, day lilies, four o’clocks up there to the dream she keeps lifting, where it’s noon all day.
Sunflower, Frank Steele
And this is our sunflower forest.