Chicken Chronicles

Yes, it's been a while and I know y'all have been just craving another post about my chickens.

Lots has happened with the chickens, but we all sort of got side tracked.  We lost a dear friend suddenly a few weeks ago, and it's kind of hard to want to write about any thing trivial.  Jim was an awesome man, and he and his family were among those that encouraged us to get chickens, and they have about the cutest chicken coop you've ever seen.

We decided our last two nameless birds would both be named to honor Jim in some way.  So, the Cuckoo Marans are now named Tweetie Pie and Ginkball.  Not exactly a timeless memorial, but it does make me smile and that is important.

So.  The girls have grown up a lot.  We finished the coop and moved them in.  One got injured (long story), and I was afraid we'd have to break out the axe again, but she seems to be improving steadily.

This is how the coop looks as you approach it from the woods.  It's far enough from the house that you can't see it from the house or the yard, so it's kind of nice to walk down the path and see it there under the clubhouse like that.

This is the back of the coop - those cupboard doors open into the back of the laying boxes so I can sneakily gather the eggs.

Here is the front of the hen house, with the ramp and the door. 

We physically placed the hens in at dusk and closed the door the first couple of nights, but they've got the routine down and  now we don't do anything.  Except for those few days when I had to go out after dark and lift Bossy up into the hen house because her injury prevented her from going up the ramp.  The night I went out and found her in the house with the rest of the girls gave me such a feeling of relief - I knew she was on the mend!

Happy chickens, with lots of room to roam now.

 This is Ginkball, heading up the roost.  She and her sister Cuckoo Maran (Tweetie Pie) are the largest in the flock right now.

These are Lacy and Big Bird (Aidan's chicken).  Loving the "top hat" that is growing on Big Bird.  S/he is a gorgeous chicken, and the only "unsexed" one we have.  We are anxiously awaiting further growth and hoping that it is not a rooster!

This one is Queenie.  Developing into a very pretty chicken, but she isn't growing as fast as the rest.  I am assuming it is a trait of her breed, as she definitely is one of the more dominant hens in the flock and gets her fair share of the food.

Several of the girls enjoying their outdoor roost.  There are also roosts in the henhouse.

I can't tell you how much we are all enjoying the chickens.  I love seeing a note from Bridget posted on the back door, "Gone to visit the chickens" and we as a family often wander out there together to see what they are up to.  I've been known to head out with food for them and just sit and relax for a half an hour, watching their antics.

Anxiously awaiting the eggs......

Stay tuned...  we have new residents moving into the coop with The Girls!

Grilled Artichokes

A few people have asked for this recipe, and I thought I would put it here.

Having grown up in California , where most artichokes are grown, I’ve been eating them all my life.  Having recently left California , I am astounded at how many people are intimidated by artichokes! 

 

Preparation is not hard, and good prep makes for a more edible result! Artichokes can be cut, steamed and marinated several hours before you are ready to grill.

 

 

Ingredients

• 4 artichokes – find the ones that are heaviest for their size. This means they’ve retained plenty of moisture in their trip from CA to your state!
• ½ cup olive oil
• Juice and zest of 2 lemons
• 2T salt
• 1t ground pepper
• 1/4c chopped herbs of choice

 

Preparation 

• Have ready a large pot with an inch or so of well-salted water. Put your lemon discards into this to acidulate the water which will keep the cut parts of your artichokes from turning brown as you work. 
• Strip off 2-3 layers of outer leaves 
• Using a sharp knife, slice of 1 inch of the top, and trim the end of the stem 
• Using kitchen shears, snip any prickly tips that remain on lower leaves 
• Slice the artichoke in ½ lengthwise 
• Using a basic kitchen teaspoon or melon baller, scoop out the “choke” or the fuzzy stuff in the middle. 
• Drop both halves into the water, making sure that the cut surfaces are well coated w/ the water to prevent browning while you prep the remaining artichokes.

 To cook: 

• Cover the pot and place on stove and bring to a simmer. 
• Simmer artichokes until they are barely fork tender at the stem – about 15 minutes, depending on size and freshness. Check frequently! 
• Remove from heat and allow to cool. 

 To marinate: 

• Place remaining ingredients (oil, lemon juice and zest, salt, pepper & herbs) in a zip top bag and mix well. 
• Add artichokes to bag, turning to make sure well coated. 
• Marinate for 1 hour or all day. 

  

To grill: 

• Handle artichokes carefully at this point. Since they are nearly completely cooked, they will be fragile. 
• Using tongs, place artichokes on a medium-high grill with the cut side facing up. 
• If there is any marinade left, spoon or drizzle this into the cavity of the artichoke. 
• Cook for approximately 5 minutes or until char marks appear on the leaves. 
• Carefully turn over (watch out! The excess marinade may cause flare up!), and grill on cut side for another 5 minutes.

 Serve immediately or at room temperature. Prepared like this, they generally need no dipping sauce.

Hen down!

A while back, it was finally warm enough outside to move the chickens out of the corner in the garage by the hot water heaters and into the driveway for an afternoon of sunshine.

One thing I've learned about chickens so far is that when confronted with something new, they completely freak out.

They started squawking fluttering all over the place - trying to hide in the corners.  Since I speak chicken now, I could totally hear them saying "The light! The light! Stay away from the light!"

But then, the brave one, Queenie, left the seething mass of squawking feathers and tenatively stepped into the center of the box.

And then she keeled over and died.

"Hen down! We have a hen down!" I yelled.  Ray came over to investigate.  Queenie's body deflated and she spread out one of her wings as if to display all her grown-up feathers.

Ray and I were perplexed.  Queenie and Bossie both started alternating between this strange behavior and running back to the mosh pit where the rest of the girls were continuing to freak out about the glowing orb in the sky.

Eventually, the other chickens started keeling over on the floor, deflating, and spreading out their wings.

As usual, my photography skills were lacking and I didn't realize the camera was focusing on the wire and not the chicken playing possum, but you get the idea.

We figured they must be sunbathing.  A quick internet search confirmed that for us.  Apparently this is "normal" chicken behavior.

What is NOT "normal" chicken behavior is trembling and weak legs.  We really do have a hen down, sadly, and it's Baby Ducky.  It started a few days ago, so I've isolated this one from the rest of the flock.  It continues to eat and drink, and seems pretty pissed off to be missing the party in the crate next door, but this is the way it has to be until I reach some sort of conclusion about what is wrong with this chicken.

Many less-than-quick internet searches have revealed not much.  So, I figure one of three things will happen.  It will get better, it will die, or it will be wobbly all it's life.  We shall see.  Sadly, this is the one chicken that everybody gravitates to.  It could be the crazy feathers, or the diminuitive size (it's the only bantam in our flock).  Or maybe it's the "pluck" (ha!  get it?  chicken humor!) that this little runt exhibits.  I will keep you posted. 

Meanwhile, work has started in earnest on the coop so that we can move the girls out to their own apartment now that they are old enough.  Ray and I have been doing our research, talking to other chicken owners, touring local coops and cobbling together a basic plan.  Which, of course, changes frequently in the course of construction based on materials available, new ideas, and the odd mistake.  It IS just a chicken coop, after all.

But it is a literary chicken coop.  Even though the girls can't read, visitors will be able to ponder a short piece of poetry called Home to Roost, by the current Poet Laureate, Kay Ryan.  We just won't dwell on the fact that the poem is really a metaphor for one's mistakes clouding one's mind.  It's just about chickens!

Bridget has really gotten into the decorative aspects of the coop.  She asked Ray to make a couple of rooster-shaped cutouts from wood and she painted them.  They will adorn the doors where we gather the eggs.

It's coming along!  I will be excited when the girls make their big move.  And like that big, bright, orb in the sky - the changes are sure to freak them out.

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming....

... of braggin' on my kids!

We hope you stick with us on this short break from the All Chicken All The Time Blog.

Yesterday was the Caveman Triathlon, and Boy Wonder did it again!  As with his previous two triathlons, this was a "sprint distance" race - 275 yard swim, 13 mile bike, 5k run.

Up at o'dark thirty to get to the race site.  Then it's time to line up for the swim.  Faster swimmers get to go first.  That would be Aidan, there near the front of the line in the black Speedo.

He had a great swim, and I'm pretty sure he took first in the swim, even beating a couple of high school swimmers that had also entered the event.

Next up is the bike.  We learned our lesson after the first triathlon and now we rent him a nice bike for these races.  Doing it on a mountain bike on a windy day is just sheer torture.

He did much better on the bike than in his previous two triathlons, I think.  See - being a swimmer, he gets done with the first leg first, and then gets out on the bike course and all the more experienced triathletes are behind him and start whizzing by him pretty quickly.  So, my measurement for this leg of the race is how many fewer people passed him.  He seemed to hold his own pretty well for a scrawny kid in a race of 600+ adults.

 

Next up is the bike-to-run transition.  Most triathletes say this is a real killer, as your legs don't want to work after biking for so long.  I believe it from the awkward way people are running as the exit the transition area.

Ray hollered to Aidan, "You OK?  Anything hurt?"  Aidan's answer was, "Everything hurts!" as he gamely strode out to the 5k run.

The run looks like sheer torture.  At this point, most of the athletes have been going hard for about an hour and some of them are running out of gas.  Aidan looked pretty strong, but said he DID take a short break to do a little stretching during the run.

And finally, the "big finish" through the archway where a volunteer places a medal around  your neck.  Aidan's time was about 1:27 which is about a few minutes faster than the last one - always improving!

Stay tuned for a special upcoming report from the All Chicken All The Time Blog about Chicken Sunbathing!



Awkward Teenagers

Remember when your babies were small?  So cute, so tiny, so cuddly.

Before you know it, they are in that awkward no-man's-land between infancy and adulthood.  They are teenagers.  All angles and elbows and attitude.  All grooming problems and social problems.  Harder to control, harder to contain.  Needing their own space, experimenting with adult adornments.

Not nearly as pleasant as when they were fluffy little chicks.  Wait....  who did you think I was talking about?  My kids?  Nah.....  this is now the All Chicken All The Time Blog, haven't you figured that out yet?

So, we have entered that awkward teenage phase.  I recycled an old dog crate into roomier quarters.  I've given them little roosts to try out.  And fight over.  I'm putting their food in to dishes with higher sides so they'll quit spreading it all over the floor and pooping in it.  I probably threw out about 1/2 their food each time I cleaned the cage.  Live and learn.

Their new home.  Thanks, Reba, for the crate!

Up until now, when I would photograph the chickens, I would take them out of their box and set them on an egg crate to snap their photos.  First up during this photo shoot was one of the Cuckoo Marans.  Who immediately spread her wings and tried to fly away.  If it weren't for my lightening fast reflexes, she'd still be hiding behind something in the garage.  

Having learned my lesson, I now photograph them in their box. 

This one is "Aidan's chicken," the Polish, who will develop a big crest on it's head.  You can already see it forming.  In true teenager style, it didn't want to have it's photo taken and it looks like a chicken mug shot. 

Queenie, the Silver Kraienkoppe is turning into an attractive little chicken.

The Cuckoo Marans are not the most attractive of teenagers.

Baby Ducky always looks angry.  I would too if my adult feathers turned out like that.  Maybe I should have gotten two Frizzles - I think the other chickens make fun of Baby Ducky's wardrobe.

The Ameraucaunas are still the nicest-looking of the bunch.  Bossy is still very bossy.

Just two more weeks and they should be fully-feathered and ready to move full-time into their coop.  Hear that Ray?  Time to move the coop project to the top of your Honey-Do list!  Genius that he is, Ray decided to enclose part of the space under the clubhouse.  It'll be a nice, roomy enclosure for them.  Stay tuned!

They Grow Up So Fast!

I took these shots when the chickens were one week old.  That was just a few days ago, and already they look different again!

Some of their personalities are starting to emerge, and a few have names.  They graduated to a bigger box, and today I will work on yet another bigger box for them until they are ready to live outside.

Ray has started designing their home which is basically a coop within an aviary that will be constructed underneath the clubhouse.  Can't wait!

The biggest change, other than size, is that they are growing their mature wing feathers.  Check them out!

This is the pair of Ameraucaunas.  The one on the right is HUGE!  I call her Bossy, because she IS!

These are the Cuckoo Marans. 

This is the bantam frizzle.  For a variety of reasons to convoluted to go into, we have started calling it Baby Ducky.  It's pretty feisty, but likes to hide under the larger chicks when it is scared.

This one is "Aidan's chicken" but still yet unnamed.  It is the "Polish" style and will have a large crest of feathers on it's head.  It already has some rougher feathers up there.  This is the calmest and sweetest of the chickens so far.  I hope that means it's a girl - I would hate for Aidan to have to kill his own chicken.

This is the Silver Krainkoppe.  One of the least remarkable chicks, but she will probably grow up into the prettiest.  I've taken to calling her Queenie.

This one is "Bridget's Chicken" and she has named her Lacy, in honor of her breed, the Silver Laced Wyandotte.

And finally, Flat Stanley is visiting us this week from Long Island, and we are supposed to show him the sights of our neighborhood, then send him back home.  I thought a photo with the chickens would be good, but, it turns out, chickens are terrified of Flat Stanley.  You learn something new every day.



Meet My Chickens!

First of all, I apologize for the photos.  Photography is not my strong point, and subjects that won't pose or stay still make it even harder!  These photos were taken when my babies were two days old.

First up, we have a pair of Ameraucanas.  These are the breed that lay blue eggs.  I've always known that when I got my own flock, I would have this breed.  These two are the biggest (and bossiest) of the bunch so far.

They won't retain those beautiful markings into adulthood.  The photo below is a mature Ameraucana pullet (girl chicken).  Her legs are blue!

Next up, we have a pair of Cuckoo Marans.  The one on the left is a "feather-legged" variety and you can see she is already starting to grow feathers down towards her feet. 

This is a mature Cuckoo Maran pullet.  While not very remarkable in appearance, they lay the darkest brown eggs.  Can't wait to see them!

This little guy is the runt, and we have taken to calling it "the baby."  It is a bantam, which means small.  The particular breed is a "frizzle" which means it's feathers won't lay down.  This chicken is "un-sexed" which means there is no way to figure out whether or not it's a boy or a girl until it grows up.  If it is a boy, unless he is really really quiet, and really, really nice, we are eating him.  Circle of life, people.  Deal with it.

 Here is a picture of a grown up frizzle pullet.  If it were a rooster, it would have a larger comb on its head.

 This chicken is "Aidan's chicken."  It is a "Polish" chicken, sometimes also called a "top hat" because it grows a big crest of feathers on it's head.  Aidan was attacked by a rooster when he was small, and developed an irrational fear of chickens.  As he got older, that fear morphed more into loathing, and he always said if I got chickens he would have NOTHING to do with them.  So, being crafty, I let him pick out "his very own" chicken.  Old age and treachery trumps youth and beauty every time.

However.  This chicken is also "unsexed" and I don't want to think about it's future if it winds up being a rooster.  Aidan is already talking about moving "his chicken" into his room.

I really do hope that if it is a rooster, he is very quiet, and very nice.  They definitely grow up to be one interesting-looking chicken!

This cute little one is a Silver Kraienkoppe.  Like the Ameraucanas, she won't retain her beautiful markings but does grow up to be quite a regal-looking chicken.

And finally, this one is "Bridget's chicken."  She picked a Silver Laced Wyandotte and she will grow up to be one beautiful bird!

None of our flock have names yet, we are waiting to see their personalities emerge.  They are 3 days old now and already starting to grow mature feathers, so soon they will be in that awkward teenage phase where we wish they were still cute and small.

The Chicken Chronicles

So, two days ago, I got the much-anticipated call from the post office.  "Ma'am, we have a box of live poultry here for you."  Woot woot!  My chickens have arrived!

I have wanted chickens for a long time.  Several of my neighbors have them and while the eggs are delicious, it is also the personalities of the birds that I enjoy.  Each one is unique and they definitely have a social structure and I think it will be a lot of fun to have our own small flock.

So, like usual, I started my research.  Talked to all the chicken owners, read things on the internet from online poultry dealers to chicken bloggers.

We eat about a dozen eggs a week in my house.  So, theoretically, we only need a few birds.  I ordered eight.  Yes, that is way too many but I doubt they will all make it to laying age (4-5 months).  Due to my inexperience, disease, or varmints, I may lost up to half.  I've had them 3 days now and I can't bear to think of losing ANY of them!

The birds in the lower right are mine.  The rest are Black Indian Runner ducks that "my farmer" ordered to help me fill up the box.  They stand a better chance of arriving alive if there are more in the box.

So, I got them home and put them one by one into the cardboard box that will be their home for a few weeks.  I had to dip each of their beaks in water to "teach" them how to drink.  Each and every one of then figured it out and then headed straight for the food.

I definitely learned that I needed a bigger feed dish!

They are just the cutest little balls of fluff.  But only for a few more days.  Then they will go through that awkward teenage phase where we all try to remember how cute they used to be.

Check back soon!  In a few days, I will intruduce you to each and every one of them!



March Madness

Well, I exagerate.  It's not nearly as busy as last March.  But after nearly 14 years of this motherhood gig, I am finally noticing a pattern.

March is where it all starts.  March is when I awaken in the middle of the night suddenly remembering 4 events I forgot to load on the calendar, two birthday gifts I forgot to pick up, one outfit that needed ironing for some ceremony or performance, and all of the chores outside that I've neglected all winter.

March is where it all starts.  The crocus bulbs remind me spring is coming, and the daffodil bulbs follow closely behind them.  Its the iris that I wait for though, with their showy blossoms in unimaginable color combinations.  The black, skeletal trees suddenly burst with a sweet green-ness that will darken throughout the summer.  I need to start walking again, so that I can observe and enjoy this magical transformation.

March is where it all starts.  When I have to prepare the garden beds, get my seeds in the ground, shop for seedlings, and hope that this year will be better.  Empty canning jars are piling up in my pantry, waiting to be filled again with this year's produce.

March is where it all starts.  I am starting a small flock of chickens this spring and hope to have my own fresh eggs by mid-summer.  My baby chicks arrive in just over a week and I love the feeling of anticipation.

March is also the "beginning of the end."  Swim season wraps up with championship meets, and we start planning for the end of the school year.  That means TAKS testing, final exams, middle school graduation, choir parties, 8th grade dance, three girl scout overnights, the father/daughter prom, middle school swim team, club swim team banquet, a triathlon, a couple of birthdays, and all the planning, cooking, purchasing, taxiing, packing and volunteer work that accompany all those activities.

I've learned something over the years.....  yes, it's crazy, but it's a good kind of crazy.  And we will all survive even if I forget to iron that shirt, don't have time to spray the weeds, or have to postpone a birthday celebration.

I've learned to take a moment.  Enjoy my growing children and revel in the activities they attempt, rather than resent the demands these create.  Celebrate both my husband's birthday and another year of being married to him.  Take time for a walk in the woods near my house and see the astonishing array of flora quietly announcing spring.  Put my hands in the earth and feel it turning.  Shed the shell of my winter cocoon and dive into the fresh spring air.

Hello, March!