Coop Cleaning Day and Other Doings.

Today is coop cleaning day and finally some great weather for it! I'm currently gathering my strength for a good shovel-out of the summer straw and getting the place winterized. Will be a good day out scratching around the yard for the flock and both of these things are badly needed.

I'm sure by now, I described the task in excruciating detail, so I won't go into it again, but it will be a messy job.

In other news, there is a new kid in town. If my ears are still as sharp as ever, I'd say that one street over is a young rooster who has just come into his maturity making his presence known. His crow is a little higher pitched, so either he has just started, or is possibly a bantam. Perhaps both.

Coq Au will crow through out the day, and much to my neighbors' "delight" will sometimes issue a crow or two at four A.M. for no particular reason, and this has the effect of causing the 'Johnny-come-lately' a block over to sound his replies. I am not sure which neighbor over there is keeping chickens, but I am sure the rest of the neighborhood is thoroughly thrilled with the additional sounds.

In other news, the egg embargo is in full swing. Zero eggs. They've shut down in the fall before for an extended time, but it is still always disconcerting and I may even have to buy some eggs. Oh the shame! The absolute shame!

As for individuals, I went into the run yesterday to change the water. We've had a lot of rain lately, so the run was a bit muddy. I spread the scratch around and the flock gathered to greedily pick at their favorite morsels except for Hortense. She kept close to me and wondered if I would let her slip through the gate for some 'me time' that she so loves, but I was disinclined to do so. I feared that she might even miss out on the treats that the others were enjoying, but with all of the rain, a great congregation of worms had collected underneath their water font, so when I lifted it to give it a cleaning and refill, Hortense was the sole benefactor of a private feast!

Not My Cat still comes by from time to time but always seems more interested in garnering a free meal rather than the quest to soil the reputation of our 'daughter' Osha.

Well, that's the exciting life of enjoying simplicity. No 'high drama' to report and that suits me fibe!

The Gathering Darkness.

The equinox is just around the corner. Temps are still summerlike, but the days are definitely shorter. I've noticed, but just in case I haven't, to flock sure has.

The sudden shift has caused several girls to molt and even Coq Au has lost some of his proud tailfeathers to the seasonal change. Egg production is low.

In a fit of compassion, I've taken off my beard. My 'molt' will end quickly, and it has had zero effect on *my* egg production!

The break from full swing production is good for their aging bodies and the timing is completely in the control of the layers' union with no input from myself, upper management, nor Coq Au is regarded in the least.

Well, the feathers will grow back just in time for the cold weather to set in and egg production will go back up a little, but will still be more limited through the winter.

At their age, some hens will stop laying altogether. I hope this is not the case yet, as they are still young enough to keep going and some hens will lay at least a little for most of their lives. No matter. Laying or not, my flock is my flock and unlike folks that need to earn a living on such ventures, my 'retired' layers will continue to live out their natural lives with as much peace and comfort as I can supply.

The cycle of the year is heavy upon us, the cycle of life takes its slower course.

Serving Size.

Last night I made a no carb dinner for herself and I. Ground turkey served in large tomatoes sliced open into "sixths". A little cheese, a lot of lettuce, blah blah blah, you get the idea.

The recipe called for four large tomatoes and a pound of chopped meat an noted that it "serves four". Well, diet or no, we're Americans, damn it, and we've never encountered a 'serving size' that is satisfying, so I made the four servings for the two of us.

Okay, one serving would not have satisfied us, but two servings each was well enough plus plenty left over.

So with us, nothing is wasted. The flock got the full benefit of a full serving's worth and maybe a half more. A lot of tomato, a little turkey, a little cheese, some nice lettuce and such. I wonder what the 'serving size' should be on a meal like this for chickens?

Also, as I've written about several times before, they get warm oatmeal with vegetables in the morning. Last several days I've been 'watering' the oatmeal with some leftover oxtail soup. No oxtail left in it, but plenty of broth with vegetables and a bit of meat fat. As the season gets cooler, a little extra fat is good to winterize them.

To be clear, the mainstay of their diet is their feed. These things are extra, sometimes, occasional treats. But nothing is wasted and it is to the benefit of the whole household.

Just watching the flock stumble over one another to pick at the treats to find the choicest bits is a simple pleasure that can not be described. To be able to create a home with all of the little elements of relaxation and pleasure goes a long way to make it a haven away from the stresses of the world.

Happy chickens, happy spouse happy household, makes happy me! I'm a simple man who adores my small place on this wide and wonderful world.  I love the life herself and I have built with one another.

The Harginger of Change

So this is Labor Day weekend in the states. Many folks take that as the end of summer and it is a big beach weekend for many to soak up the last summer rays. School is about to start again, folks going away for vacations draw down, and … of course … the ubiquitous "pumpkin-spice flavored everything" appears.

With temps next week threatening to be in the 90's, I tend to wait for the equinox as the 'end of summer'.

But yesterday morning, I went out to feed the flock their morning treats as usual and I heard the tell-tale "THWANK" of a falling acorn hitting my car.

Kinda early for these parts, I reckon. So, I went over to the spot and heard a few more of the softer "Shrasht" of another couple of acorn falling through the leaves and hitting the ground. I found one of the acorns. It was small and half eaten. They're not ripe yet, but some squirrel was tasting to the late summer fare, was displeased, and was contemptuously chucking away the remains.

Still, this is an early harbinger for me. Not even merely the acorns, but also the squirrels actively starting their quest to hoard and put in winter weight. This is a little early, so I fear it may also be a harbinger of hard winter.

Never the less, my thoughts turned to acorns! Been a couple of years since I had a decent harvest from my meagre two or three oaks, so while the rest of the east coast is dreaming of pumpkin spice everything, I am already thinking on acorn bread! If there is a decent harvest to be had, and if I can beat the squirrels to some choice nuts, I figure I can collect in earnest in about a week, or more likely two.

I think I've shared this recipe before, but just in case I haven't, here it is again:

Processing raw acorns is a task in itself … but an easy one. Perfect for those of us that fit into the "poor and bored" category of life. If anyone wants notes on how to do this, comment below.

Also, if you're wondering what acorn bread tastes like, it is similar to the texture of corn bread, but less 'sweet' and more of a mild nutty taste. Goes down great with a dab of butter and honey.

Additionally, acorns are one of the healthiest nuts there are. For the scientifically/nutritionally minded, here is a Wikipedia link to the specifics:

About acorns on Wikipedia

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acorn

Laziest Mower In The World

Much to the consternation of the neighborhood, not only do I keep a rooster who crows incessantly, but also I avoid mowing the lawn as much as possible.

Limited time, more rain than usual, and a general contempt for the act has caused my grass to not only grow past knee high, but actually go to seed. My lawn doesn't need to be 'mowed', it needs to be 'harvested'!

Well, yesterday was one of those days that was made for living! The sky was clear, the sun was shining, it was not overly hot, so I fired up the mower AND let the flock out! With the grass at this level, there is no way to do the entire lawn in one shot. So, I concentrated on the parts that face the roadside and the part shared with the neighbors. The chickens are not overly afraid of the mower, but neither do they love it. So, they found other more serene places to be whilst I set about the task at hand.

I don't obsess over the state of my lawn (obviously!) But moreover, I rather delight in the wildflowers that grow within and the multi-levels that lawn achieves. It becomes downright a 'meadow' when it is particularly out of hand. I love it. Everyone else, not so much. So … I'll mow.

It pains me to mow through the cornflowers, lady's thumb, clover, wild strawberry, thistle, goldenrod, dandelions, plantain, etc. just in the name of having flat, even green. As I mow, the crickets make way, the moths and butterflies alike take flight, and I have disturbed their manner of life. Yet, mow I do. The chickens don't like the grass when it is overly long either, so for their sake and for the sake of neighborhood 'beautification' I'll do the task.

Hard to tell from the photo, but here is a section that I mowed against the sheer length of the grass gone to seed. I am of the mind to leave even a small patch of the seeded grass to replenish the lawn naturally. Birds, bugs, and other critters might make off with some of the seed, the good earth will take the rest and hopefully life will be renewed once again.



On such a glorious day, the flock enjoys the freshly mowed patches as they scratch around for tasty greens and insects. There are somes that love the sunshine.

And then again, there are somes that love the shade.

Lawn clippings are deposited in the run so the flock can continue scratching away once they are obliged to go back inside.

And, at the end of the day, herself will come home a hard day's work to a wee 'vase' of wildflowers from our own yard to decorate the table in a very simple, homespun way. 

Eight Little Chicken Heads.

Well, the flock is aging but still living up to the Layers' Union negotiated contract of three or more eggs a day in exchange for appropriate treats with the right percentage of mealworms.

Mealworms and cracked corn mixed are tossed in and the hens stand stone still watching where the treats land and then scurry off, toppling over one another in order to be first to the choicest bits.

The other day I found myself in the unenviable position of being OUT of both mealworms AND cracked corn! Uh oh. This might be trouble.

Undaunted, I thought to 'trick' them by tossing in a handful of feed.

I tossed the feed into the air just like with the cracked corn/mealworms and eight chicken bodies stood still as eight little chicken heads rotated in perfect synch, tracking the trajectory. Eight little chicken heads followed the path all the way until the feed hit the ground, and then eight little chicken snapped back to my direction with complete understanding of just what I had done.

They stood still once again. They glared at me with absolutely no expression in the way that only judgmental hens can and the growing feeling in the pit of my stomach brought to mind the words of Quint from the film Jaws.

"Y'know the thing about a shark, he's got... lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll's eyes."

Beaten down with guilt, I trod with slumped shoulders into the house. Chickens will eat almost anything, so I scanned our larders for something to sacrifice to our little contemptuous egg goddesses.

The following is a list of leftovers I came up with. Please note that A) NO leftovers given to chickens should be rotten or moldy! And B) These treats are fine, but not everyday ... only on rare occasions.

Left over corn.

Left over bread.

An odd tomato that wasn't enough for a proper salad.

Left over sliced deli ham that was only just enough for a sandwich.

It's been a great while since they had a ham sandwich, even if it is in a broken apart form, so I tore the bread into crumbles, sliced the tomato into largish pieces, and tore the slices of ham into four or six largish pieces each.

Back to the run and I laid out the fare, but QUICKLY turned away to check their regular feed and water rather than face their judgmental gaze in case they disapproved of the substitute.

A long time reader of this blog who is possessed of attention to minutia may remember Myrtle, with the bent toe. As a BRIEF reminder to the rest of everyone, Myrtles toe became bent when she was just a week old and herself and I fretted whether or not she might be debilitated. Quickly we discovered that she could stand, perch, walk, and run just fine! In time, we also discovered that she was the queen of the fast-dash grab-and-go with treats. She would be first in with a surgical strike, and off again with her prize to enjoy in peace.

Thus ... and remember, this was in an instant ... as I turned to regard the feed and water, Myrtle DASHED between my legs as quick as a flash, the largest piece of ham clenched in her beak, flapping and dragging behind her.

The substitute treats were accepted, the Layers' Union mollified, and peace was restored once again.

The Lords of All We Survey.

August is upon us and it is a time of plenty and easy living. There are always chores to do, but the lawn doesn't need mowing as often, spring cleaning has made the house a little bit more manageable, and we can all sit back and breathe a little easier for a spell.

Herself works on Saturdays, so as a surprise, I took the time to get the kitchen and bathroom into some kind of shape and even cooked a fine dinner for her to come home to of Lemon Pepper Chicken (no, not from one of our own) and a cold Blue Moon in a frosted glass with a wedge of orange (as is the style). I am a terrible cook, but she was well pleased with the results and managed not to wretch or come down with any form of food poisoning.

So here we are. The lords of all we survey.

Not-My-Cat lazing on our potting table (couldn't get a picture, he got up and took to begging for a free meal as soon as I stepped outside).

Coq Au Vin strutting around on the front boards as a literal vision of the "cock of the walk".

And humble me. Sitting on my porch, mildly sweated up from summer heat and morning chores, contemplating the majesty of all of creation. King or pawn, I am just so well pleased with everything that is.