Promises, Promises

Earlier this morning I was outside watching the chickens as they had some free range time.  All of a sudden Ross came tearing out of the house with the phone in his hand to tell me that our neighbor had called and the black bear had been in his back yard again; I guess he has a thing for his bird feeder.  Our neighbor, upset with the bear for beating on the feeder, yelled at him from his back door.  I guess he hurt the bear's feelings because the scolding made it go and climb up a tree (the bear climbed up an oak and was actually trying to get apples from the tree right next to it).  By the time I got there the bear was quite hidden in the tree.  I could barely see the thing for all the leaves, but I could hear him as he rustled and broke the tree's branches.  I thought he might fall, but he ended up climbing down.  He then headed into the apple orchard on the neighboring property (two houses away from ours).  We followed him from the other side of the stone wall keeping our distance, taking pictures as we could, and trying not to be noticed.  The bear ended up climbing another tree for apples and after a bit headed off behind the house where we lost track of him.  The experience was quite nerve-wracking to say the least.  There was always a little voice in the back of my head saying what will you do if the thing turns and starts running towards you.  What one will do for a photo-op!

I see you.

About the same time as the bear headed off a pickup truck pulled into the driveway of this property.  The couple inside had come to pick plums from the owner's orchard.  My neighbor went over to tell them to be careful because of the circumstances.  The man behind the wheel said that there was no reason to worry and that a bear won't bother you if you don't bother it.  I thought to myself what a nice promise to make; it's definitely one no man can keep, but nice none the less.  I guess he was right this time though because I never saw or heard an ambulance come.

The Talented Mrs. Hull

When I got home from work today there was a little package waiting for me.  Inside I found the most adorable chicken that my sister had made for myself and Ross.  Our little hen pumpkin makes a great companion for the original pumpkin that my sister gifted us last year.  I can't quite remember, but I believe they are made out of paper mache or a material of similar quality.  My sister then paints them.  They are simply adorable and beautifully crafted.  My sis is definitely talented!

It's always nice to receive an unexpected gift.  Especially one that is as unique and thoughtful as the chick-o-lantern.  It will be a wonderful reminder of all the highs and lows we have experienced in our first year with chickens.  Thanks sis!

Chicken Run. Try Chicken Fly.

So last week we got the poles for the chicken run in place.  It was nice to go out out every night after work and see our little, poultry Stonehenge.  What made it extra special was the subtle reminder it gave of all the work that was necessary for the run to get completed.  The plan was to build three walls with a door.  After thinking this through a bit more I realized that it would be nothing for a fox or coyote to jump on the roof of the coop and just hop in the run so a fourth wall on the coop side became necessary.  There was no plan for a roof.  I should state that again-no plan for a roof.  I really did not think that a roof was necessary.  Really, six foot high walls should keep everything out.  Right?

So I was up working on the coop side wall, and Ross was over with the chickens while they were taking their nap/dirt bath (I think they do this about midday every day).  The next thing I know Ross is swinging the get'n stick (a hiking stick that we use to herd the chickens) in the air and ranting.  I see two hawks move out of a dive straight toward the chickens for fear of being hit by the crazy man and his stick.  They ended up roosting in a nearby tree.  Ross did not take his eye off them. Talk about the evil eye!  So this little escapade gave me a quick, second thought about the roof.  I looked at the area, saw the trees overhead, and then thought there is no way a hawk will get them in here.  Back to work I went.

The next thing I know the beautiful, sunny weather turns overcast an muggy.  And this happened just in time for me to start digging the first of three ditches needed to bury some of the chicken wire in hopes of keeping the wild things from digging under the fence.  It was sweaty work.  Ross finally was able to corral the chickens back into the coop and came to my rescue.  Together we worked on the remaining ditches and got the chicken wire in place all the time being serenaded by the clucks and squawks of our little hens.  They were not happy about being cooped up; I now know where that colloquialism came from.  After we got the wire in place (no door yet as I still have to build it) Ross started cleaning up the tools and I decided to let the little girls try out their new yard.  They were not happy to say the least.  Ever since we first took them out they have been free range birds.  These girls did not like the idea of a fence.  They went from wall to wall looking for an escape as I sat in the doorway blocking the only route out.  Blackie, our Black Australorps, tried to fly right over my head, but I caught her.  She was not happy about that!  And then, Curley (so named for her funny, curly tail feathers), took flight right to the top of the beam over the door space.  I could only laugh.  I have spent so much time wondering if the walls were tall enough to keep all the critters out and if the trees would keep the hawks at bay that I neglected to think if they were tall enough to keep my little cluckers in!  Guess not.  So, now on next weeks agenda is a roof.

By the way, our other two remaining hens are named Flopsie and Maddie;  Flopsie got her name because her comb flops over to one side and Maddie got hers from Ross as an homage to my niece-our Golden Comets' ginger feathers are a close resemblance to my niece's hair.  During a conversation with my sister, post informing them of our hen's name, she told me that my nephew wanted to know why we didn't name one of the chicken's after him.  My reply, "We don't have a rooster!"  Situation averted...

On another side note, the whole time I have been writing this Ross has been in the kitchen canning green beans.  The boy just doesn't stop.  I think I got him riled up by mentioning that this year they are having a canning contest at the Bethlehem County Fair.  Maybe Ross will be the blue ribbon winner!

Das Sauerkraut

Last year Ross tried making sauerkraut with the cabbage from the garden.  He used our pickling crock, weighed the cabbage down with a plate, and then covered the top with some plastic wrap.  There was a lot of growth on the surface that he had to keep skimming off.  In the end he wasn't happy and began looking online for other crocks.  He ended up settling on a Polish fermentation crock that I got for him as a gift.  This crock has a water trough seal that is supposed to do away with the need for skimming the top.

So here we are a year later and Ross picked some cabbage from the garden that needs processed.  I was not quite sure how cabbage gets to kraut so I was quite interested in finding out.  I didn't realize that this was going to be a hand's on lesson.  Come to find out it's quite easy.  You shred cabbage, place a layer in the crock with a bit of salt, and then mash it to get it to release its natural moisture.  I was amazed at how much water came out.  Once you finish mashing the cabbage-and in the process giving your hand the wonderful scent of eau de ca'bauge-you place a weight on top (our crock came with its own stoneware weights) and let mother nature do its job.  In four to six weeks, and minimal upkeep, we should have some sauerkraut.  Now I just need to talk Ross into making his homemade German potato salad and applesauce again.   Add to that some knockwurst cooked in the kraut and we will have ourselves a really great Autumn supper.  My mouth is watering at just the thought!

It's Good For You. I Promise!

Last October when my mom and Bob visited we went to the annual Garlic Festival held at the Bethlehem fairgrounds.  While there we had some good garlic eats, bought some fancy garlic oil, and Ross got a quarter bag of seed garlic which probably cost the same as buying three garlic bulbs from the grocery store.  He planted many a clove.  Almost a year later our harvest is in, and I am amazed at how much garlic we have.  I spent several hours trimming the stalks, dusting the cloves off with a soft bristle brush, and grouping them together in several bunches so that they may hang and dry.  The herb hook we got earlier this year is really paying off!  For all visitors still to come this year please note that at least one of your meals will be garlic inspired, and I am not make any promises on our breath.

Ross the Chicken Herder

On another note, we made progress on building the chickens a run to help keep them safe from the wild beasts.  We got some 4x4 poles in the ground which was somewhat of a chore.  As my mother explained so eloquently as she was digging in one of our gardens, we "sure do grow great rocks here."  My hands are sore from digging out small rock after small rock.  I'm not quite sure if the 4x4s are a bit of overkill, but I'm trying to keep our poor, little birds safe.  During one of my breaks I asked Ross if he remembered that earlier this year I declared 2010 the year of the bird, and he did.  We laughed over how true my proclamation became.  What makes it funny is that I never expected to get chickens; one day in April Ross went to run errands and when he returned he surprised me with baby chicks.  I then stated that I never knew how much work the year of the bird would be with building the coop and the run, and then I said that 2011 WILL NOT be the year of the goat (Ross has wanted goats ever so badly since we picked up our bees from a farm where their goats had and were giving birth and Ross and I got to hold the babies).  I just don't think I have it in me to build a barn next year.

All in all we had a great weekend.  Ross spent much of it chicken herding while I worked on my projects.  He really is a great man.  I hope to get the run completed soon so that he can stop worrying so much about the remaining chickens and get on to other things.