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!

The chickens are coming! The chickens are coming! The chickens are coming!

I have wanted chickens for AGES.  Several of my neighbors raise them and the eggs are to die for.

Plus, chickens are funny.  Really - just find  yourself a couple of chickens and sit and watch them for a while.

I found a really good and inexpensive coop design on Mother Earth News.  It uses a dog crate, which I have, and welded mesh fencing and hog rings, which I don't have.  I am looking forward to going to Tractor Supply to get them.

This isn't a big "structure" and it will be fairly easy to drag around the yard so the chickens and grass can do that mutually beneficial thang that they do so well.  Plus, it's "critter proof" so that foxes, etc. can't get into it.  No way to keep the snakes out, though.

I have been browsing chicken catalogs and websites for ages, trying to decide what kind of chickens I want.  Top of my list are Ameracaunas, which lay the blue tinted eggs.  They are so pretty!  We barely go through a dozen eggs here at our house, so theoretically, I don't need a whole lot of chickens.  A good layer will give you nearly an egg a day.

But the breeds!  There are SO MANY interesting breeds!  "SO MANY" being the operative words here....  I finally decided to order based on interesting looks, and not on production capacity.  Add in the fact that I am sure to lose some to inexperience and snakes (and maybe the dogs), and some will wind up being roosters, I have hedged my bets and ordered seven chicks.

These are some sketches of some of the breeds I selected.  I tell you, I canNOT WAIT to see these funny guys walking around my yard, and listen to their gentle, inquisitive clucking.

Except for the roosters.  I can wait for those.  Generally, they are aggressive and noisy.  If some of my fluffy little chickies grow up to be roosters, they are destined for the soup pot, so I can look forward to a new skill:  butchering chickens.

So, now I wait.  I wait until March 23rd, when I will get a call from the post office that they have a noisy box full of holes for me to come pick up.

Wish me luck!

Garden planning

It's been in the back of my mind, but so far I've done nothing.  Two years of abysmal failure is not a good motivator.

But I've been exchanging emails with Farmer Sandra who DOES know how to garden, and supplies me with the yummiest stuff.  We've been planning a "joint chicken order" (more on that later), and she's gotten me excited now.  She even sent me pictures.

She says, "FYI, This year I will also have some started seeds that will be transplant size that will be available for sale for any back yard gardens as well. Let me know if you're interested...tomatoes, broccoli, cabbabe, cauliflower, peppers..that sorta thing.



All my seed is from organic sources so that's all good too.  I've been using these kewl lil seed plugs...they expand in size when watered and allow for ease of germination.  I then pop the whole thing into a 3" jiffy pot, harden them off and plant them directly into the garden when the time is right...very easy.  Also, tweezers are the way to go on planting the seeds."
 
So, now I am excited!  Now I don't have to be a "drive by stalker" at the nursery wondering when their delivery truck comes, and then lurk at the back of the place when the truck DOES come, to get the varieties I want, and the healthiest-looking plants.  I will have organic, heirloom seedlings to start in my freshly tilled soil.
 
So - motivation has set in.  I think I will go scavenge some horse manure.

Survival

Cabin fever.  The Shining.  Not too far off the mark.

Luckily, I have a great bunch of neighbors. 

Yesterday, I left the house and walked around the corner.  Found Dottie nearly diving for safety behind her mailbox as the neighbor tried in vain to get his truck up his ice encrusted driveway.  Repeatedly.  Leave the car on the street, fool.

Pass by Kristen's.  She sprints out the door as her husband and two small sons stand on the porch saying "Wait!  Come back!  We still need you!"

"Hurry!" Kristen hisses.  "Go, go, go, go!"  Down the road we slip and slide, destination Denise's house.

Sanctuary.  Warm fire, other women, thankful to be in each other's company rather than texting all day, "Can I duct tape my kids in their rooms?"  "Is it too early for vodka?"  "Does anyone know if they will ever come take our trash away?"  "Whose power is still on?"  "Low on dog food - help!"

Besides the fire and the women, there is the World's Largest Crockpot full of delicious chili, several bottles of champagne, and gourmet jello shots.

Yes, gourmet jello shots.  If Carolyn were your neighbor, you'd know what I was talking about.

These lovely little nuggets are a layer each of chambourd and vodka lemonade.  Yummmmm......

Lunch was delicious, the company and conversation just what a bunch of snow-bound mommies need on a cold winter's day.  Thanks, Denise!

Ice Station Zebra

Greetings from Ice Station Zebra.

I am a scientist engaged in the study of global warming (ha!) and it's affect on moderen suburban families.

In this experiment, we will cut a small cluster of families off from civilization by encrusting their roads in ice and creating a hostile environment.  We will monitor the behavior of the trapped subjects.

The suburban offspring began the experiment by spending a lot of time out of doors, attempting to slide down glaciers.  While there were varying degrees of success with this behavior, due to the perpetual cycle of returning to the house for warmth and sustenance, and always forgetting to close the doors, their habitats now look like this:

This phenomenon has caused the suburban housewife to consume alcohol.

Seriously though.  What a mess!  Our roads have been frozen for three days, and it will not get above freezing today either, and then more snow is expected for Friday.  At this rate, with the "snow days" piling up, the kids will be in school doing makeup days until the Fourth of July.

I am about to run out of milk and am contemplating walking to the nearest convenience store just for the novelty of it.  Note to self, call first to make sure they DO have milk.  Rumor has it the grocery stores are running low.  Other than the milk (and I do have powdered), I am glad I have a well-stocked pantry.

The only friends the kids see are those within walking distance, and it is a cold, cold, walk!  Ray goes out daily to break the ice on the pool.  Aidan, obviously, hasn't been able to train at all, so I nag him to spend time on the stationary bike - it's about the only way I can get him away from the TV.

One of the neighborhood mommies kindly invited the rest of the neighborhood mommies over to a chili lunch today.  I am certain there will be wine involved, and so I may not be home until the spring thaw.

I am not Wonderwoman



Today I didn't.....

• Clean up the kitchen after breakfast.  Thank you, Ray, for doing it for me.
• Style my hair.  I dragged it back off my face and stuck a sparkly clip in it and hoped nobody would notice.
• Cook.  Breakfast was packaged oatmeal, dinner will be spaghetti w/ canned sauce and frozen meatballs.  I can't even be self-righteous and claim to use my own tomato sauce because I never got around to canning any this season.
• See my daughter for more than 20 minutes.

This week I didn't.....

• Wash the red sweatshirt my son needs tomorrow.
• Fold any of the laundry that I DID manage to get washed.  Can I start a "wrinkled look" fashion trend if my whole family participates?
• Mop
• Clip the mats off Dixie's hindquarters.  They're still there, looking like dreadlocks.  Maybe I'll rename her "Rasta Dawg" and cultivate the look.
• Exercise
• Use any coupons

This month I didn't......

• Earn any money whatsoever.
• Organize my backyard for winter.
• Wash my windows and now it's too cold.
• Purge my growing pile of magazines, recipes, catalogs, garden seeds, dog collars, nail polish, school memos, electronic chargers and adapters, etc. that is in the kitchen.
• Mop
• Hang those hooks in Aidan's closet that I got a year ago.

What DID I do?  Forgive myself.  Not every day can be "that" day where you hair, children and dogs all cooperate.  Where your car, kitchen and bathrooms stay clean for more than 27 seconds, and where you find the time to hang that hook, that curtain rod, or that annoying PTA lady.

We do our best.  I'll mop before company comes, merely fantasize about hanging the PTA lady, maybe ask one of the kids to clip the dog and try not to stress about the rest. I'd rather leave the dishes and the windows and have a few more moments with my family.  I imagine myself as a camera lens, with the F-stop adjusted so that I only focus on what's important, and the PTA lady, unmopped floors and laundry are all blurry and unimportant to the overall composition.

I'll be Home for Christmas

There is no place like "home" for the holidays.  Holidays and "home" just go together.  There are songs about it, and we go over the river and through the woods to get there.

This is my sixth Christmas away from "home" and I have come around to a different perspective.

I love my extended family.  I love my hometown.  These are a given.

But consider this..... those that are "home" for the holidays have a whirlwind of hosting (crazy) relatives, hauling presents, dressing children in itchy clothes, family squables, cooking for crowds or creating "moveable feasts" to contribute to chaotic gatherings.  Yes - I have lived all that and it has it's wonderful irreplaceable rewards.

But....

For the last six years, my Christmas events have consisted of bonding with my husband and children.  The four of us get a reprieve from school work, spreadsheets, carpool, sports practices, travel, volunteer obligations, conference calls, and even to a fair degree, routine chores (the dog poop can wait!).

Wait for it...... the audible "Aaaahhhhh......."

We hunker down together, turn up the cheesy Christmas music (and sing along with lousy harmony), lay in several days of decadent supplies, and just enjoy being together.

Of course we miss our family and I think wistfully of them all together sharing a boisterous meal, having a mountain of crumpled wrapping paper and total chaos, which I gleefully had hosted in my own home for many years. 

But we are far from kith and kid and luckily the four of us (still) truly enjoy each other's company.  These few days clarify for me that I am so grateful for the strength and steadfastness of my husband.  The adventure and drive of my eldest.  The creativity and generousity of my youngest.  The unconditional love that they all bear to me.  And I know that without these few days of intense attentiveness towards one another, I'd miss the moments that would be lost in the whirlwind.

Peace.  Quiet.  Love.

That is what the holiday feels like to me.

That is what I think the holiday is supposed to feel like.

I wish you all the best for 2011.  And especially a little peace, quiet, and love.

Unbearable Journey

Shoulders to cry on.

Bread to break with loved ones.

Kind words and remembrances.

Shared pain and grief.

Homes and hearts opened.

Breathe......  just remember to breathe.....

An impossible task completed - borne up on the hearts of family, friends, thoughts, prayers and love.

The sharp knife of a short life

This picture slays me most of all.

The boy that once was.  The man he could have become.  A future still yet filled with endless possibilities.

The boundless love and support of a parent with heart full of dreams.

The sharp knife of a short life.
Raymond Patrick Glynn
11-04-87  - 11-27-2010

Namaste