Be Odd If It Makes You Happy

You know it has been the best of Sundays if you find yourself smiling at nothing in particular. ~

I can honestly say I never thought, at the age of 64, I'd be hanging out with chickens. It certainly wasn't any part of my life plan. But, hanging out with those girls does make me happy.

Today I cleaned the ashes out of the woodstove ~

and took them out to the coop to add to the dirt bath the girls have made under the quarantine coop. Clever girls to find a place that will stay dry all year!

It made me happy to see they had a great time fluffing their feathers in the ashes. ~

If you have a fireplace or woodstove, put your ashes out for the wild birds to bathe in. As long as there is nothing but clean firewood that has been burned, it's good for them to be able to clean their feathers in the winter.

It was a cold day and, in the afternoon, I made some oatmeal for the girls.

Who wouldn't be happy to see them all lined up, making little hops of excitement when they know I am coming? ~

I didn't even mind staying out in the cold to see if they liked their treat and to make sure old Vivian gets her fair share. ~

I know it is odd to prefer watching chickens to shopping or travelling or fine dining but I've done all those things. They were fine for their time. For the present time, hanging with chickens is what makes me smile.

The sun was setting and I looked at the tracks crisscrossing my yard. Tracks from my feet and the two-year-old girl who is so excited about being able to identify her prints, mine, a squirrel, a raccoon, a cat and a rabbit. They are the prints of life going on all around me.  They are my life.

I take my fair share of ribbing over being a Chicken Lady. I really don't care if I'm a little to the left of centre. Orrrr - even a lot to the left.

Be as weird as you like this week and soak up all the happiness you can! Sing marching songs at the bus stop, wear your hair in pigtails, dance down the hall at the office, eat chocolate cake for breakfast; whatever sets your sails, just do it.

I'll be here, hanging with a cool bunch of chicks!

You Won't Believe What's In This Cookbook!

I preordered happy hens & fresh eggs because the author, chef Signe Langford, is a friend of my daughter. Signe has been a good chicken mommy to many of the rescued battery hens that my daughter brought to her farm for rehabilitation and rehoming. 

What I didn't expect was my absolute delight in the book itself. It has everything I love in a good read!

Where else will you find beautiful photos of gardens, vintage kitchenware, backyard chickens, coop plans, and practical information on caring for your own flock?  Okay, maybe you could find all that in one book but how about 100 egg recipes by the author and contributing chefs!

The photography is beautiful. ~ 

If you daydream about keeping your own chickens, Signe walks you through the highs and lows of having adorable feather balls hopping up on your knee as you sip a cup of tea in your garden and gives peeks into her stylish coop dubbed Cluckingham Palace. She also lets you know what happened to her meticulous landscaping when those feather balls started scratching and chomping their way through the garden like miniature, ravenous dinosaurs. You all know what my gals did to my yard so that won't surprise you much. There's lots of practical chicken keeping advice from Signe and two bloggers I regularly follow, Karen at The Art Of Doing Stuff and Lisa from Fresh Eggs Daily.

The author is as passionate as I am about stopping cruel factory farm practices and I was thrilled to see a picture of my granddaughter, holding a rescued hen, included in the book. ~

I couldn't put happy hens and fresh eggs down until I'd read it cover to cover and by then I was famished! 

I flipped through the book and settled on whipping up Hangry Eggs. They turned out beautifully and tamed the 'hangry' beast in me! ~

Tomorrow, I'll try something a little more refined. I think iles flottantes will do nicely. ~

The gals in the coop have their work cut out for them. I intend to cook my way through the entire book! ~

Luckily I  have lots of 'happy hens & fresh eggs'!

To order (and I highly recommend you do!) click here to take you through to Amazon.ca. 

Listening To The Chickens Talk

There isn't much to do on a rainy day but go for a little visit to the chicken coop and see what the girls are chatting about.

Kay sighed and said she wished the rain would stop and she could fly outside.

"Why do you always want to be flying, Kay?", asked Elizabeth.

"You three little ones have always had a nice life. You never had the only thing you lived for be a dream," Kay clucked and ruffled her damp feathers.  " You lived in a nice barn with pigs, goats and a friendly cat. Your mother spread her wings over you to keep you warm and safe. When you were a little bigger you ran outside and played in the sun."

Old Vivien clucked and fluffed her feathers. "Kay is right. You have no idea what the world can be like out there for us. Even though I came from an organic farm and ranged freely in the barn, I was never allowed outside. That is until I got old and wasn't laying so many eggs. One day the farmer opened the barn door and let me run out into the field. I was so happy to be free. In the evening, I came home to roost in the barn and found the door barred to me. Night after night I tried to come inside to sleep. Winter was coming and my old bones were aching. I could hear coyotes howling and knew they might take me for their dinner."

"That was too bad of the farmer to cast you aside like that when you had given him so many years of fine eggs,", clucked Kay.

Vivien preened herself, glad to have an understanding friend.

"Still, you were not without hope as we were in the battery farm. Thousands of us were crowded into hot, smelly, dirty barns. I would have died of the horror of it if I hadn't had my dream of flying. All around me the chickens were sick and sad. Their tails drooped and their feathers fell out. Some of them died."

Elizabeth, Rukmini and Madeleine squawked in dismay that such conditions existed.

"But I never lost sight of my dream. Every day I stretched my legs and wings as far as I could in that little space. You must always be sure you are getting yourself in shape for the time when you are free to go after the life you want, girls."

"One day a truck came with new, young chickens. Now, I thought, they can take over the egg production and I can be free. The barn door was open and I could see the sky for the first time in my life! Why, then, were two ladies pleading with the farmer to give them some of the spent hens. Am I a spent hen? Is that a good or a bad thing? It is so hard to know with humans."

"I know exactly what you mean," said Vivien. "My farmer always said I was his favourite because I was his first chicken." She shook her feathers again as if to shake off the memory.

"Well, the two ladies bribed the farmer with something in a bottle and he said they could take twenty of us. The rest were going to be loaded into a truck to go to the factory. I don't want to go to another factory. I want to fly! I stood up as tall as I could and stretched my wings to show them how fine they were. The ladies started putting chickens in carriers. They didn't seem to care that they were sickly and dejected. They didn't even hold their tails up like a proud chicken should. Pick me, pick me I clucked as I hopped up and down in my cage!"

Kay hopped up and down on the perch as she told that part of the story and that got the young girls hopping up and down. Vivien, of course, is too dignified for hopping.

"Well, as you all know, I was picked and put in a carrier to come here."

"It was time to fly.  I ran toward the fence, flapped my wings as hard as I could and soared eight feet into the air; right up to the top of that fence!"

"I've practiced every day and taught all of you how to fly, too. Even Vivien does a grand job of flying out the coop door every morning."

"But why don't any of us fly as well as you, Kay?", asked Elizabeth. "We practice every day, too,".

"Because it's not your dream, dear. Once I lived for that dream, now I live the dream!"

That is exactly how the chickens told the story today. Or, maybe I told the story to them. 

For certain, we all agreed that you must get yourself ready, try your hardest and never, never give up on your dreams!

I'm Not Seeing Eye To Eye With The Chickens

While I was seeing a garden ready for planting, Vivian was seeing a perfect spot for a dirt bath. ~

I'm seeing tilling as soil prep and Kay and Vivian see a human servant that is turning up worms and bugs for serving to them. ~

After the second time I planted the beans and saw the girls heading to dig in that area again, I decided this job would never get done if I didn't send the girls to bed early.

Vivian is so mad about being locked up way before bedtime that she won't look at me. ~

In fact, the only one that is happy to be in there is this little fellow that has taken up residence in the coop. He hardly ever bothers to come out, since pretty much everything he needs is at hand in there.

I was getting a bit worried about the weather holding things back so much in the garden this year and planted the old wheelbarrow earlier. On the nights when frost was threatened, I could easily cover it.

As part of my plan to reduce the amount of work I have to do in the yard I've moved the vegetable garden to a much smaller space that used to have herbs and strawberries in it. I almost felt guilty at how easy it was to plant the smaller area. I'm sure I'll get over that when I see how much this cuts back on weeding time.

Well, the chickens got a little extra beauty sleep and I have the garden all in except for a bit of space saved for tomato plants.

The girls can join me as I work in the garden from here on in. They really are good company out there and won't do much damage now the string is all in place.

As soon as I was done, the garden angels smiled down on me and sent a nice, gentle rain to speed all the seeds on their way. ~ 

Diatomaceous Earth For Natural Bug Control

One of the things you have to be careful about in chicken care is controlling lice and mites on the birds. No matter how clean you keep the coop, wild birds will carry these pests to your flock. The standard procedure is to dust the coop and chickens with Diatomaceous Earth.  Lice and mites can weaken a bird by feeding on it, so it's important to keep these pests under control.

You see it here as the white powder sprinkled throughout the hay in my newly cleaned coop. ~

I wasn't about to start dowsing my girls with this stuff without doing some heavy duty research first. What I discovered was a natural insect control product that can be used not only in the coop, but in the vegetable and flower gardens and inside my home.

What is it?  It is the fossilized remains of aquatic organisms called diatoms. They accumulated in the silt of waterways and is mined from those sites since the 1800's. Crushed into a fine powder, it has uses for a drying or binding agent and to control insect infestations. It's in many of the bug control products marketed for garden use.

It comes in various grades and I want to be absolutely clear that I am only talking about food grade certified Diatomaceous. I'm saying it twice, only use certified food grade diatomaceous earth. Let's make that three times. It's food grade that is safe for you, your children, and your pets.

Here's how it works. When insects crawl over the powdered Diatomaceous Earth, the sharp particles damage their exoskeleton.  This allows the powder to enter the insect and dehydrate it.

It does not hurt creatures that do not have an exoskeleton, even if it is consumed orally. This makes it an ideal pest control product for inside the home. Sprinkled in areas where there is a problem with fleas, ticks, spiders, ants, bedbugs etc. it will kill all the bugs passing over it.

In the case of pet flea control, carpets, pet beds and furniture can be sprinkled with the powder and it can be sprinkled on the fur of the pet. It doesn't hurt your cat or dog to lick the powder off. I've used it with no ill effect on my cats. The only downside was the cats dragging the powder from the carpets to the rest of the house. I admit it was a nightmare of white paw prints that had to be cleaned off every surface they could manage to tromp all over! In my opinion, it was worth the mess to avoid putting chemicals on or in the cats to get rid of the fleas.

After about a week, the new flea eggs will have hatched and the process has to be done all over again.

I also leave a fine dusting of Diatomaceous Earth in the basement to kill spiders and centipedes.

Pots of herbs and weather sensitive plants that are brought indoors to overwinter should have a dusting of it on the pot soil to be sure you aren't importing bugs into the house.

It's the only product I use in my vegetable garden and flower beds now.  Since it is food grade and I can actually eat the stuff with no ill effects, I'm comfortable putting it on my vegetable plants when there is a bug problem and still have organic produce.

What does it cost? I find the price fluctuates wildly depending on the retailer. Garden centres sell a small canister or bag for around $8.00. I've seen stores specialising in organic and natural insect control charging over $60.00 for a 50 lb bag. I bought my 50 lb. bag at my local feed mill for $8.00 so do some price shopping in your area. Once you've determined it's food grade, you don't need any pretty packaging or chic labels to get the job done safely and quickly. I've been using the same 50 lb. bag for three years, have given tubs of it away and still have three-quarters of it left.

How do you use it?  I use a mask while I'm sprinkling the dust so I'm not breathing in the fine powder. Any  powder, inhaled, can be an irritant to lungs, sinus and throat. It is a drying agent and can irritate eyes so protective glasses are a good idea. For the same reason, I don't sprinkle it near pet's eyes or mouths.
It's recommended you leave it on surfaces in the home for four to twelve hours before vacuuming it up. I left it on my carpets for several days to be sure every flea had ample time to crawl over it.
It should only be sprinkled on dry surfaces. Dampness reduces the effectiveness of the powder and I find it solidifies into a bit of a paste if it gets wet that is difficult to clean up.
I sprinkle the powder on days when the windows are closed and no fans are running so it isn't stirred up into the air, causing potential breathing problems.
It only takes a thin layer of the dust to be effective. If you apply it too thickly to surfaces, it may cause clogging of your vacuum. I've never had a problem but somewhere I read that caution.
I sprinkle it on the floor, nesting boxes and perches of the coop. Once a month or so, I add a bit to the chicken feeders for a natural dewormer.

There you go. No more dangerous chemicals, low cost, earth friendly and your bug troubles are gone!

I'm sharing this with Tuesdays With A Twist

The Chickens Go On Holiday

Warm weather is here!  It reached 19 degrees celsius (66 F) today and I could hardly make myself take the time to gulp down a cup of coffee before I hit the great outdoors.

The chickens were just as anxious to 'fly the coop'.  Once again, they made me laugh at how much they act like us.  Like any good Canadian, they couldn't wait to leave  the main coop and go to the quarantine coop cottage.

The little coop is barely big enough to hold 2 chickens comfortably, but they all crowded in. It has no amenities, no waterer or feeder, or straw lined nesting boxes. It's a rustic cedar cottage and they had the time of their lives in there. I would call them silly chickens, but I've squashed my family into a cedar shack, that had very few amenities, many a time and called it our vacation.

Since they were on holiday, they did a little sunning and bathing. ~

Nothing is finer on a sunny, spring day than to head for the woods on a hike, with a pickup picnic lunch. ~

Their personalities are as different as you find in any family. Rukmini, on the right, is bossy and pushes her sisters out of the way to grab the best bugs. Maddy, on the left, is shy and a bit on the sneaky side. In the middle is Elizabeth. She is polite and very particular about keeping her feathers snowy white.  The queen of the flock, Kay, is at the back, leading the way into certain trouble as she takes them to the neighbours yard. Old Vivien isn't in the picture because she always keeps her distance from the rowdy youngsters. She's a rescue and even leary of me; never sure if fate will turn on her again and have her scheduled to be culled out.

Of course, I wasn't on holiday and it was a perfect time to do a spring cleaning on the main coop. All this winter bedding and poop had to come out. ~

A scrub down and some fresh straw makes it good as new for when they come home from their vacation. ~

Last, but not least, I put Kay's baby back in the nursery. It may look like a golf ball to you and I, but to her it is a beloved child. As much as she screams and carries on while she lays an egg, she doesn't have any attachment to it. The other chickens can sit on it and anybody can take it away without bothering her in the least. But, don't even think of touching her baby! She'll puff herself up and pace up and down the coop, hollering bloody murder until you put it back.

Even to a chicken, love is blind.

Dealing With Teenage Chickens

I thought I was making my life easier by getting young chickens instead of rehabilitating old lay hens. WRONG!  Why did I not think about those terrible teen years?  Shouldn't the teenage bench wrecking, paint scratching, into everything cats have clued me in to potential problems with young chickens? Apparently not!

The new girls were faster and smarter than I was.  They escaped from the quarantine coop.  Then, they escaped from the run.  I gave up gradually introducing them to the flock and let them run wild.

It was like trying to keep Bart Simpson penned up. ~

All of my chickens, young and old, are convinced the bugs are much better on the other side of the fence.  They scoot through to next door and hang out under their pine trees. ~

The neighbours did mention that they had to chase them out of the petunia beds but didn't seem too upset about it.  They thought it was cute that the chickens were trying to get into their pool area. So far, so good.

And then, the new girls started rampaging through their yard!

I blame Rukmini for it.  She's a saucy girl and doesn't listen to a word I say. She's the white gal getting ready to push Vivian and Anne away from the feeder. ~

Wherever Rukmini goes, Elizabeth follows. Isn't she the cleanest chicken you have ever seen? ~

Even though most of you voted to name the third girl Clair, I liked the idea of naming her after my friend Mel's daughter.  I never go with the popular vote, which is obvious by my voting Green Party. We only got one seat in parliament last election, so that tells you how popular they are in Canada.

So, Madeleine she is.  She's quite shy but that doesn't stop her from getting into trouble. ~

These three girls have earned me my first chicken complaint.  First, the woman next door told me they were eating the lower raspberries.  It's best to bluff your way through these things so I told her she was lucky she didn't have to bend over to pick the low ones.

The next week she told me they were flying up and eating the higher ones.  Ekes!

I do so want to be a good neighbour and told her I would keep them in chicken jail until the berries were done.  I was very good about only letting them loose when the neighbours were at work and wouldn't have a clue whether wild birds or chickens devoured the berries.  Don't judge me!  My chickens absolutely hate being penned up.

I left a peace offering on their porch with a cute chicken note. ~

Everything would have been fine if the neighbour hadn't come home from work early, while the chickens were roaming free.  She thanked me for the eggs and said I didn't have to do that.  I made a cute comment about the girls wanting to make up for their bad behaviour.

Then, the neighbour said she had some lovely berries on the bushes today and would have to get them picked.  At that moment, we both looked over at the berry patch.  "Oh my!", said the neighbour.  The damned chickens had come out from under the pines and were flying up to gobble the berries!

I didn't even bother to try and smooth it over, just called the girls home and put them in detention.

For all I know, they may have promptly invited this guy into their bedroom. ~

It's really best for all concerned to NOT know what teenagers are doing!

Rescue Burnout

I have had to admit I have a bad case of animal rescue burnout.  Of the three old chickens I took in last month, only Vivian is still with me.

A week ago Camryn died and Josie followed her this weekend.

I work very hard at healing these chickens and spent countless hours taming them and making them happy in their new world.  They respond so well to fresh air, nutrient rich food and, most of all, individual attention that it is truly heartwarming.

But, the down side is that I get attached to them as pets and it's wearing me out with sadness and worrying over them.  Losing Josie and Camryn leaves me with too few chickens to keep the coop warm over a Canadian winter.  I need at least four chickens in there so their body heat adds to what the heat lamp does to keep them from frostbite.  I had to make a decision quickly on what to bring into the coop, so I can get them integrated into the flock before cold weather sets in.

I'd also like to get a reasonable number of eggs for the money I spent on feeding and housing the ladies. Of the three gals I have left, only Kay lays eggs.  The other two are more in the decorative end of chicken farming.  sigh

So, today I picked up three, white leghorn pullets.  Yup, I have brand, spanking, new lay hens from a reputable breeder!  They are about 4 mths. old and have just come into laying.

They were a bit traumatized from the move, so I just snapped a quick shot of a couple of them in the quarantine coop. ~

.

It feels positively lazy to not have to treat any wounds, overgrown nails or lice on these gals!  All I had to do was feed them, water them and say, "Good night, girls".

Oh, and I did have to apologize to them for making their move more difficult than necessary.  I told the farmer I would help him catch them, since I'm an excellent chicken catcher.  He declined my help and brought me the three stuffed in a feed bag.  Of course, I wouldn't subject them to a car journey in that! Just as I took the third chicken out of the bag to put in my cat carrier, the first two made a break for freedom.  The farmer had to catch them all over again and I'm sure he complained aplenty about me to his wife when he got back to the house!

Queen of the coop, Kay, hardly bothered to kick up a fuss to establish herself as boss this time. As long as they don't touch her supper food, she doesn't seem to care about the youngsters being there. ~

Maybe she's just relieved that all the responsibility for supplying my breakfast won't fall on her shoulders any more.

I know I will take in more rescues in time.  For now, it feels wonderful to have nothing but happiness in the coop!


ps - One of these girls will be named Rukmini and one will be Elizabeth to fulfill friend requests. Any ideas on a name for the third girl?

And The Winner Of The Chicken Hunger Games Is .....

Today was merge the chickens with Kay and Anne day.  I dread this process because chickens can be very, very mean to each other.  I'm talking blood spraying, chickens screaming, me screaming and me screaming some more!

Anne has spent the last week fighting through the chain link fence with any of the new gals who ventured near it.  I swear she thinks she's a rooster.  That must be why she's never laid an egg in her life!

This is the beginning of a fight between a Rhode Island Red (Anne) and a New Hampshire Red (Josie).  Up go the feathers, the screaming match starts and the beaks go for blood. ~

Neither state won because Camryn came in with that huge beak and Anne had to call for a medic. In case you are wondering, I'm the medic. ~

If you get chickens, make sure you get some of this styptic powder.  You have to get the bleeding stopped or all the chickens will go after the injured one. Anne was wearing quite a bit of this stuff! ~

Kay has been getting mighty peeved at waiting for me to put her in the coop when she wants to lay an egg. Today, she told Anne to peck on the patio door and get me out there pronto. ~

I can't keep running out and shuffling chickens in and out of the coop all day so I decided it was time they all kissed and made up.  I was determined to stay calm.  Maybe they would catch my good vibes and stay calm as well.  Guess what?  It worked!

Kay pecked everyone on the butt if they came near the food or looked at her sideways.  A couple of the new girls took offence and tried to start a fight.  Kay looked at them with disdain and they gave it up.  She didn't have to worry because Anne ALWAYS has her back covered!

Josie, Vivian and Camryn are free for the first time in their lives. ~

They may have been a little surprised to look back a the quarantine coop, that has been their home this past week, and see what frequently naps on the roof. ~

As long as they don't go in the coop while Kay is laying an egg, we have peace and harmony once again. Kay can yell louder and longer than any chicken I've ever known.  She struts and paces and lets them all know just who is running the show around here.  Step out of line and you'll get a peck on the butt.

Yes, Kay is the winner of the chicken hunger games.

All's well that ends well!

Meet The New Gals!

Guess what I found in my chicken coop when I came home from dining at a friend's house last night?  I thought it very strange that Kay wasn't settled on her perch at 8:30 in the evening.  She's a stickler for an early bedtime and huffs and puffs at me if I'm late closing up the coop for the night.  She was pacing back and forth in front of the little quarantine coop.  As I reached down to pick her up and settle her in for the night, I realized my neighbour had delivered the chickens I was rescuing from an organic farm.

These poor ladies aren't laying up to commercial standards anymore and their days were numbered.

Vivian doesn't know what her fate was soon to be and looks unimpressed with the new digs. ~

These are all heritage breeds and she may be an Orpington.  She's named after an aunt that had hair that colour.  I think Auntie Viv would be okay with that.

It turns out Viv is a bit of a troublemaker.  The teenage girl next door brought the chickens home from the farm for me.  Since I wasn't home, she was worried the chickens would be uncomfortable in the cat carriers. Her dad told her not to let the chickens out but she figured they were fine in her rabbit run, with a 4' fence.

Viv flew out of there in a flash and the other two followed hot on her heels.  Now Mom, Dad and all three daughters were chasing wild chickens all over the village.  They told me those girls can certainly run!  I would give anything to have a picture of the dad racing through back yards with a pink butterfly net!  Yep, that's what he did.  The mom was shouting directions like, "We all have to work together to herd them into one spot." and "Everybody stop running in different directions.  We have to fan out and force them toward the coop."  From the tone of her voice when she told the tale, I don't think anyone listened to her.

This is Josie and I'm plum out of aunts to name my chickens after.  Josie is the last. ~

I think she may be a New Hampshire Red and they are noted for their aggression.  I can certainly tell you she gives a mean bite if you try to take an egg out from under her!

Just as I was out of auntie names to use, my niece asked if I would name a chicken after her some time. Wish fulfilled!  Meet Camryn and she's just as sweet tempered as my niece. ~

Kay and Ann are not pleased to be locked out of the run while the new gals get some exercise. ~

I'm pretty sure they were muttering about the indignity of having their supper al fresco.

For the next week I'll be shuffling chickens in and out of that run throughout the day, until they get used to each other.

In the meantime they have to content themselves with fluffing up their feathers and standing as tall as they can while they peck each other through the fence.

Let the Hunger Games begin! ~

I don't think my two coddled girls are going to win the fight with the gals from the big barn!