The Chickens Are Embarrassing Me!

It's a very late start to the gardening season and I'm putting in long hours cleaning up the mess from winter. I'm focused and determined to get everything ship shape.

A friend gave me this adorable tin mug.  I love the sentiment and that it was made in Bath, England.  What could be better for a die hard Jane Austen fan!

As I'm sitting in the vegetable garden yanking out a troublesome creeping weed, my next door neighbour calls to me and asks if I mind if she takes a pic of the chicken sitting next to me, because it looks so cute.  

I didn't even realise Kay was there but it's not a big surprise.  She likes to be involved in things. ~

I can take a bit of chicken teasing.  Ha ha, silly chicken.

Later in the day, I'm in the front yard wearing the baggiest, dirtiest rags imaginable and concentrating on trimming rose bushes.  Another neighbour is out walking a dog and calls to me to stay right where I am while she takes a pic with her phone.  She says she just has to show people this.

I had no idea the girls had followed me to the front yard.  Now, I'm looking ridiculous and it's going viral! ~

How many people have driven by and howled at Ma Kettle and her chicken helpers?  I shudder at the thought!

But, the most embarrassing moment came today when a florist arrived with Mother's Day flowers.  I answered the door and standing right beside the delivery lady was Kay, proudly looking as if she was helping with a very important task.  I tell you folks, I just didn't know what to say and blathered something about her not paying any attention to my chicken.

The lady said something about it being fine and headed back to her van.  To my horror, Kay followed her! I had to put down the flowers, go after Kay and carry her back to the yard.  ~

All the while I'm telling Kay this is just not cool.  I don't care if she thinks she's found her calling as a delivery chicken, she's to stay in the back yard!

I should have taken her picture beside the flowers, though, because the arrangement came in a sealer jar and a it would have made a cute, country pic. ~

It's too late now.  Do not tell my daughter what Michaela, bad cat that she is, has done to those flowers already!

First Bath Of 2014

Not me!  I take baths all year round.  Spring is here and the chickens get to take a dirt bath.

I let them out of the run while I was working on yard clean up and they made a beeline for the rose garden. They set right to, digging holes and using their wings to shoot the dirt up under all their feathers.  It's the chicken equivalent of a bubble bath.  Should I have brought them each a glass of wine and a good book?

Of course the bath has made them sleepy and they settle in for a nap in the sun. ~

Utah has found his napping spot on a pile of leaves right beside the wood pile.  Any mice that have overwintered there better take care because this old guy never misses his prey! ~

I do expect them to help me clean up all the fallen limbs this hard winter has left, so I roust them out and set them to work. ~

I guess I forgot these girls were in retirement.  Only one lays eggs.  At least they take care of any bug or grub problem in the grass.  Yum.

Kay did show an enormous amount of interest in my window cleaning.  I wonder if I could set her to doing housework.  She is named after an auntie that would have put Martha Stewart to shame with her housekeeping.  Hmmm.

It's been absolute heaven to be out in the yard and feel the sun on my face once again!  A bit of rummaging in the leaves and I find the first garden surprise.  Chives! ~

And, a little more rummaging and I find the sweetest and earliest of spring blooms.  This little clump of snowdrops never lets me down. ~

Yesterday, everything that resides here at Kellswater lived up to Margaret Atwood's admonition.

             "In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt."

We did and you'll be happy to know we took our baths! 

Can This Mean Spring?

While the neighbours are away, I head to their house to check on it and feed their bunny.

What's this I spy with my little eye? ~

He has the taps in the sugar maple and the buckets are ready to go. ~

They never asked me to check the buckets but I'm a very conscientious house sitter and take a peek inside.  Plus, if it's a good yield this year, they'll give me some of the maple syrup.

Oh my gosh, the sap is running! The trees have decided it is spring. ~

I don't just take the tree's word for it.  I need a second opinion.

Ann Boleyn claims the delicate constitution of a royal and has refused to step foot outside the coop all winter. ~

Molly and Kay venture out unless it's snowing heavily or very windy, but Ann will not.  Kay has the frostbitten comb to show for her reckless wandering in the frigid temperatures.  I had to put Vaseline on their combs as a protective barrier and, let me tell you, chickens are not fond of having that procedure done to them!

Ann is outside so it must be spring! ~

We have weathered a difficult winter and the sunshine makes us dream of gardens and boat rides, campfires and barbecues.

Ann's dreams are a little more lofty, though.

She dreams of this new home she'd like me to build. It's much more in keeping with her station in life. ~

We can dream, Ann.  We can all dream.

Requiem For A Chicken

I never thought I'd find myself holding a dead chicken and crying my heart out over her.  But, I did. She was my Gertie Birdy and I loved her.  So many of you loved her too and cheered her along as she made her journey from the horrible conditions in a commercial egg factory, to the best loved resident of Bramasole. She passed away just before Christmas and it didn't seem the right time to talk about something so sad. Now, it doesn't seem right to let her pass without sharing all that I learnt from her.

I'm so glad she had two years of sun, grass, worms and freedom.  She made a great Chicken of the Sea! ~

She taught me that courage and faith are needed to overcome the bad things in our past.  She had seen only cruelty from humans before she was rescued. ~

Yet, she was the first of my rescues to venture near me for treats.  That is all the more remarkable because she had severely impaired vision and had to be be cautious around potential danger. ~

I never hurt her and she didn't judge me by what others had done.  She loved it in Bramasole and she loved being with me. ~

Life still wasn't perfect for her.  She was the defective chicken in the flock and always at the bottom of the pecking order.  If she was bullied to the point of blood being drawn, I had to segregate her. ~

Sometimes, I wished she would fight back.  But, even if there was a sick chicken in the flock, she didn't raise her own status by picking on it.  The only times I ever saw a sign of aggression from her was when new chickens fought with her original coop mate.  Then, she went at them and chased them off.  She could be pretty vocal with any chicken that came near her eggs, too.  She was a defender, not a fighter.

She found a spot to roost that wasn't too close to the others and whenever a rumpus broke out in the coop she found a place to keep her head covered and waited it out.  She knew, sooner or later, I'd be there to save her.

Gertie was a pragmatist, accepting of what was bad in her life and enjoying all that was good. She loved her treats! ~

When I opened the coop door in the morning, she literally spilled out and jumped up into my arms. She followed me around the yard and learned that a shovel meant juicy worms would soon be turned over.  The others never seem to have clued in to that. ~

And, she would wait and wait for her darling human to come out. She was the soul of patience. ~

Gertie made outside so much fun for me.  She let me see her heart and I let her into mine.

I'll keep the tags that had to be cut out of your infected wing, Gertie.  I won't forget you.  ~

You were not just a number.  You were my Gertie Birdy and I will miss you as I work in the garden and sit on the patio.  I will try to remember to have some of the grace you showed in your life.  I won't dwell on past injustice or judge others before I see their character.  I'll keep my head down when needed but race out into the sun when it shines.  I'll defend when necessary but never attack.  I'll revel in the taste of a garden tomato. Most of all, I'll love and be loved.

I think those are pretty good lessons to learn from one, little chicken, don't you?

I'm sharing this with:  Thursday Favorite Things Bog Hop

Some Days It's All Worthwhile

Almost two weeks ago my little, brown hen was spared from the chopping block and came to live with me. She had survived nearly being pecked to death in her old flock and she was afraid of everything.  She hid when my chickens were in the pen, ran away from me and slept alone in the quarantine coop.  I was beginning to wonder if I could ever get her integrated into my flock or would this Ann Boleyn lose her head as well.

When the others were free ranging Ann looked longingly through the fence at them. ~

I didn't know if she would run away or get into a scuffle with the other girls, but decided it was time to let her loose.  It took a bit of time and no little amount of persuasion to get her to venture out into the vegetable garden. Every sound sent her running back to the pen. ~

When I realised she'd gone under the rose bush with one of the other girls, I grabbed my camera to show you that I had finally got her to make contact. Ever so quietly, so as not to frighten her, I crept up to take a picture of Ann with Molly. ~

Three weeks in isolation at her old home and two weeks of isolation here and this is the first time I'd seen that chicken relax.

To my great surprise, she slowly and gingerly stretched her neck out toward Molly.  She started to coo and kept going until she touched beaks. ~

And then, her eyes began to droop, her head to sink to the warm earth and she slept. ~

The poor wee thing had been so lonely that she overcame her fears to be with the others.  Every bit of extra work and worry was worth it to me to see that moment.  I didn't know that a chicken needs to be able to touch another.  I didn't know they would coo out of happiness and relief.

Ann is a full fledged member of the flock now and proudly perches with her sisters when I close the coop up for the night.

Sometimes, it's the little things that I'm most grateful for. ~

I'm sharing this with Inspire Me Monday

Falling Behind

I've been feeling kind of bad that I don't have my fall decorating done yet.  I'm into a whole lot of big projects and maybe, just maybe, I'm in over my head right now.  My sister will be laughing because she says I always think I can do more than I can and wind up frustrating myself.

Last year by this time, the front porch looked like this. ~

Why did I start painting three rooms, yes three, when I have chicken coop winterizing to do and the yard to shut down?

I have taken the last of the produce out of the vegetable garden.  A vine that popped up on on it's own has yielded 19 nice squash. Don't you just love getting something for free? ~

As I moved the basket onto the front porch, I thought all the produce sitting out there waiting to be stored was a sort of harvest decorating in itself and I snapped a quick picture. ~

Better Homes & Gardens won't be beating down my door for a photo shoot, but it is real.

A quick update on Ann Boleyn.  She's starting to settle in and letting me get a little closer to her. Today was the first time I let her out into the main run. ~

I made sure the other gals were locked out of there.  As you know, they've spent all their time busting out of the run.  The minute I locked them out, they spent all their time trying to bust back in! Stupid chickens. ~

The reason poor, old Utah looks so cross as he lies on a chaise,

is that Gertie gave up trying to get back into the run and took over his favourite napping spot on the stone step. ~

I may not be able to show you my fabulous fall decor but who else can show you a chicken sleeping with a mermaid!

And really, could I improve on the beauty of this thistle gone to seed on the farm fencing? ~

Welcome to fall in Ontario!

Chicken PMS

I thought I was done posting about chickens for awhile.  Well, at least until I got to the fascinating story of insulating and whitewashing the coop.  Oh, and there will be the one about dusting the birds for lice.  That will be a blockbuster post for my city readers!

But, today we have to deal with angry chickens. ~

When chickens are stressed, they get very, very mad!  And, you'd be surprised at how many things can stress a chicken.  For creatures that don't have to climb any corporate ladders or pay mortgages, they sure can make a big deal of the little bit they do have to put up with.

Then again, I've never had to give birth every day or had all my feathers fall out twice a year.  Still, you'd think they'd count themselves lucky to never have to worry about their breasts drooping.

One of the biggest stress factors for chickens is going through their semi annual moult.  When you start to see this in the coop, you'd better be on guard for trouble!  ~

It gives them the worst case of PMS you have ever seen!  You see, they don't have access to wine and don't have husbands to take it out on so they do the next best thing.  The gal with the worst case of PMS decides to kill whichever one is on the bottom of the pecking order.  That looks like such a good idea that all the other hens decide they should join in.  It's the same thing that happens in big offices only these girls actually draw blood.

My gals seem to be going through this moult without turning homicidal.  It could be that they free range or it could be that I'm religious about giving them a food mixture that builds up the calcium in their bodies. ~

You can see how to make this yummy meal by clicking here.

I'm afraid a friend of mine has not been so lucky with her gals.  They pecked one poor chicken almost to death. After a couple of weeks of segregating her they tried to reintroduce her to the coop.  Failure.  They isolated the most aggressive chicken and the others started in on the poor thing.  So, the decision was to end her suffering quickly by chopping off her head.

I said, "Great idea!"  Just kidding. You know me better than to believe that.

Guess who came to live at Bramasole today?  I've renamed her Ann Boleyn.  But, this Anne has escaped the axe. I couldn't get a very good shot of her because she doesn't quite trust the lady who stuffed her into a cat carrier and dumped her in my quarantine coop. ~

So far Lizzy, Kay, Molly and Gertie are ignoring Ann. ~

Look at poor Molly's bare spots.  She gave Ann a glance and that was about it.  Ann will have to stay in there for about a week and then I'll referee the fights while she finds her place in the flock.  Did you notice she's not white?  We finally have a lady of colour!

She was a little suspicious of the special dinner.  Yay, she's eating it! ~

Now, if no one calls any of these girls fat or looks at them sideways, we may be able to make this work and Ann won't lose her head to the block. I'm even hopeful my friend is wrong when she told me Ann doesn't lay eggs.

Yeah, I know, I've officially become the crazy chicken lady.

Securing The Chicken Coop

The problem is that raccoons really do like chickens ..... FOR DINNER!  

I have an 8' tall chain link fence around my chicken run.  It was a safety zone for the girls from any local dogs that got into the yard.

Unfortunately, the two new chickens didn't want to stay in there and they taught the others to do this. ~

So, the minute I let them out of the coop in the morning, they all fly over that fence and wander around the yard.  They wander into the neighbour's yards, even though they have dogs.  My neighbours have been very good about having my girls dig in their flower beds and eat their tomatoes but it's just not safe.

They do love to come to the patio door and squawk at me for treats.  I mean, who doesn't love having chicken poop all over their patio?

I don't really mind having to hose a bit of poop off and they provide hours of entertainment for the kittens. ~

But, the other day when I came back from visiting a couple of doors away, there was a raccoon in the yard! A raccoon can rip up four chickens in no time at all.  It was a young coon and it ran off when it saw me but I knew I had to get moving on closing in the top of the run or it would be Bye Bye Birdie!

I share the chickens with my sister and brother in law and they came to help close in the top. ~

It's not pretty but it gets the job done and I don't have to worry the whole time I'm away from home. ~

I'm going to have to grow some kind of vine up over the whole thing and disguise it.  Hmmm - what to grow? Any ideas?

Just when I was feeling good about living with an eyesore for the sake of the girls, a neighbour told me his dog had chased a couple of them the day before.  Okay.  Then, he said all four chickens had been perched on top of the fence this morning.  Okay.  Then, he said he hoped they didn't get their necks caught in the roof fencing when they tried to fly out.

WHAT!

Why did he have to put that thought in my head when I was sure I was done worrying!