Harvest journal: shearing season

You see posts about sheep escaped to the wild with overdue fleeces. I’m feeling akin to those wayward wanderers.

I have ears like my dad’s. Who knew?

Most organizations that take donations require at least 12”. I am sending in 19”, 17 of which may be usable. Pictured is one of the four ponytails the barber sheared off.

I’ve been growing my hair to donate since I retired in 2014. No more having to look professional in a courtroom! The immediate push came from a safety hazard while triking. No danger of getting my braid caught in my spokes now. Whew.

Oddly, the shorter hair feels warmer. I should be able to manage a French braid soon. In the meantime, the weather forecast promises cooler temperatures by the end of the week.

Leaves are beginning to turn.

Puffballs appear before the equinox.

Winter is Coming.

Garden journal: abundance

Late July and August and the monsoons have finally begun.

July 24th. It rained for about an hour. We’ve been having smaller, if steadier, rain ever since. Up until then we were in drought status.

Despite the rain, the river runs low and slow.

Drought or no, The 4’ sunflowers are 8’ tall.

We grabbed our share of elderberries from the birds and have jelly to share.

We had a couple of weeks of smoky days from western wildfires. This, however, is morning fog: a sure sign of fall.

The Anaheim chiles loved the hot, dry weather. We parch and freeze them for winter. This batch we ate immediately as Chile Rellenos.

The beet greens make wonderful pizza toppings. The beets make into chips, or salads, or just beets. I love beets. They don’t always grow well here, but this is a beet year.

The squash and pumpkins, on the other hand, are few and far between, if also gigantic.

We were graced with a visit from Starla, a friend from forever. Being able to see friends again feeds my soul.

The popcorn has tasseled. It looks to be a bumper crop. Cucumbers and carrots add to daily salads.

Tomatoes begin their cascade, finding a place in every meal. I love tomato season.

Rain is unkind to onions. We harvested half the onions prior to the rain. We just pulled the other half. We will see if they will store.

The question “What’s for dinner?” is often answered by the need to use garden goods before they go bad. We had a bundle of onions already affected by the rain, which meant onion quiche was back on the menu. Too hot for onion soup. Those are the two dishes I know of that require 2-3 pounds of onions each!

The rain brought us a harvest of agaricus. Again, produce that will not save.

The perfect excuse to make omelettes.

Dead wood must be harvested as well. We saw our first maple beginning to turn today. Even though it will be another beautiful day, winter is just around the corner. We are feeling particularly pressed due to my planned trip to Colorado, where I will stay for a while.

I get to hang out with the Grand Girl while my daughter works on bringing Grand Girl #2 to light. Better work there cannot be.

Blessings journal: starting a new trip around the sun

Michael makes pies. I make cakes. Then we feed others. That is a blessing.

The garlic loved the hot weather we’ve had this year. Weather of all kinds is a blessing.

Michael and I have been taking evening rides together. Having him back on two feet is a blessing.

I can’t ride a regular bicycle due to wrist cysts. Finding a used recumbent that allows me to join Michael and is geared so that I can make it up the hill from the river is a blessing.

Not running over too many bears is a blessing.

Hot weather that inspires piles of grilled garden vegetables is a blessing.

Having Irene not get run over by the truck that was following her when she slammed on her brakes to photograph this albino deer is a blessing.

Silly party hats are a blessing.

Watching young stock grow is a blessing.

Enjoying the beauty of the geranium my great grandpa gave my great grandma is a blessing.

Having a guardian of the tomato patch is a blessing.

We are so interconnected with all that surrounds us, and all that surrounds us is a blessing. Sometimes a mixed one, but that’s what makes life interesting. I can hardly wait to see what this next leg of the journey brings.

Season journal: red

Beet greens, red onion, and feta galette.

Black currant jam.

Ten and a half pounds at 9 weeks old.

Black raspberry jam.

Black raspberries.

Cherry jam.

Michael with the red mower: he is allowed to stand on both feet!

Days full of work and beauty.

Construction journal: outside of cabin window replacement finished

When Clyde and Irene were still snowbirds, Michael and I had children old enough to stay at home by themselves overnight. At that point we created a space in the garage that could be heated with a wood stove so we could hunt the land in November. Remember, the house was not winter worthy. When we were building this space, we picked up a very nice window from the roadside in a ritzy part of the countryside. Even nice, if used, windows need replacing on occasion. It was time for this one to go.

Wood rot undermined the mechanism to roll the panes in and out.

First we pried the trim off. We still couldn’t figure out how we installed the window, so Michael cut through the frame and pried out the sash.

Michael previously had taken down the wallboard and insulation from the inside. When we have snowy winters, this space tends to have a river run through it. Having built with green lumber means none of the wood rotted. The insulation and wallboard had gotten moldy. We will work on the inside before winter comes. The start date on this project was around June 15. These photos are from the 19th.

We are not fast builders, but then, we often have other emergencies and pleasures intervene. We had friends from Maine visiting in the area fro June 20-27. It was good to see Wayne and Nanon again!

In this photo from February you can see the window in the garage just peeking out from under the stair railing.

Last September we removed a window between the kitchen and the addition that Clyde and Irene installed when they had the first addition added in 2007. That is the window we used to replace the cabin window.

Because the two windows were not the same size, I had to reframe the rough opening.

I lucked into a piece of 1/2” green plywood that filled the outside space. So nice to use scrap wood! The white stuff on the bottom is stick-on flashing.

After applying more flashing around the window (layered so as to shed water) I cut and installed J-channel around the window.

Today’s project was residing the cabin. We put up more J-channel along the top and rescued left-over metal siding from one of our myriad trailers. I even put J-channel around the outlet you can see at the very top left.

We still have to install bottom channel. It helps keep the wasps out. We are done for the day and have the outside weather proofed. No, the reds don’t match: such is the nature of recycling leftovers. Even so, I’m pleased with the results.

I am out to pick up the tools and start to find a home for a bunch of hardwood planks I inherited from a friend’s father. It is due to rain tonight. We need the rain, but not on the raw cut boards. We had to get the metal up so I can cannibalize the sawhorses we used to raise the metal cutting frame. Michael does amazing things on his peg leg, but cutting metal on the ground was not one of them. Now to find indoor space for those sawhorses and planks.

Bonus photo: Lil’ Blackie hatched 4 chicks on July 2-3.

Added bonus: the wood fit in the tractor shed! We scored cherry, white oak, red oak, butternut, poplar and old barn wood (that is, actual 2” x 4” s).

Geology journal: sparkle!

Zeke takes me for a two mile daily walk. Depending on the angle and intensity of the sun, I will find at least one agate. A girl has to look for something new each day! Michael gifted me a rock tumbler for Christmas. My son in law Matt (the other geologist in the family) inspired me to put it to use when he was here in May.

Four weeks later and my rocks sparkle!

These are mostly agates, but I snuck in some banded iron formation, rhyolite, citrine, plain old quartz, and one amethyst. Most of the agates are red, which is common for Lake Superior varieties. A glacier scooped them up and dumped them locally long ago.

Agates fresh from the road side.

Agates, citrine and quartz after having their edges rounded with coarse grit.

Agates, banded iron formation and quartz after their second tumble.

Agates and quartz after the third tumble. The bottom rock looks waxy. It was the driest in this photo. I could start to buff the rocks and have them begin to shine, which meant they were ready for the final stage.

Viola! Shiny rocks!

More shiny rocks!

Some of these are distinctive enough that I remember picking them up.

Thank you Matt for convincing me I had time for one more project! Now to find my jewelry making equipment so I can wrap some of these shiny rocks and hang them in a window.

Livestock journal: ducklings!

Two ducklings hatched on June 25, with a third making her appearance on June 26.

Babies!

Sylvia makes a “bloop bloop” coo I’ve never heard from a duck before. She kept her babies under her or under her wing when we would come in to put out food and water. We are fascinated by all the new behaviors.

Gracie takes her companion duck role seriously.

Sylvia originally had her nest where Gracie is sitting in the above photo. About a week before the ducklings hatched she moved her nest away from the wall. When she and Gracie and the kids were all outdoors, we peeked in her new nest. There are three eggs left in there. We also investigated the original nesting site and discovered 11 abandoned eggs. A number of other ducks were leaving eggs in Sylvia’s nest, which was partly why we moved the rest of the ducks down to pasture. Michael discovered he could move duck yurts while on his iWALK. The ducks and Michael love summer pasture.

Green!

Yesterday the black duckling shared Sylvia’s bath. She got out of the tub all on her own. Ducklings who crawl on and under mama ducks get coated with duck oil and so can take duck baths. Incubator ducklings have to wait about a month before they start to develop their own water resistance that keeps them afloat.

Sylvia continues to sit on the three remaining eggs. It may be another week or so before they are due to hatch. We assume she knows what she was doing when she chose eggs to move. She rolls the eggs around under her and keeps them warm and moist. This is as far as I’ve seen the ducklings get from her. Mostly they are on her or under her feet.

We miss having our duckies under our feet!

Garden journal: the engines are beginning to roar

Happy Solstice! In celebration of the longest day of the year, I am posting a garden tour.

First day lily of the season. The drought hasn’t hurt them, just made them oranger.

Herbs: parsley, lavender, basil, thyme and curry. Those monsters in the back are kale who wintered over. We hope to save the seed.

Red onions, eggplants, and tomatoes. The cherry tomatoes replaced the starts killed by late frost. A lone lettuce volunteered.

The asparagus in bloom. We had to fence the ducks out or we would have no asparagus at all!

Elders in full blow!

The popcorn already is knee high. Directly behind the corn are onions infested with volunteer potatoes. Behind the onions are eggplants, chiles, beets, and cucumbers.

Salad fodder fills the raised bed on the left: lettuce, spinach, radishes and peas.

Potatoes are tucked into straw. Behind them aged currants still yield jelly fodder.

We will free the winter squash once they are big enough to beat the chickens into submission.

Sunflowers, green beans, more eggplant, more onions, and maybe more thyme. This garden needs weeding!

Tomatoes! We have blossoms but no fruit yet. Maybe by the end of July…. I will eat tomatoes morning, noon and night.

We have more garden than we need, but then again, you never know what will grow and what will succumb to weather, pests, and weeds. If we have an embarrassment of riches, we usually can find a doorstep in need of a tomato or bag of lettuce or a giant squash.

Growing things. They are the best. Happy Birthday LIlith!

Harvest journal: my how you’ve grown

Michael and I picked up 26 baby chicks from the feed store on May 4th. They were all broilers this year.

Fluffiness personified.

You aren’t supposed to kiss your chickens, so we do the cheek smush instead. This is probably a 2 day old chick.

Cheek smushing my one week old chick.

Smushing at two weeks.

This chick is growing like gangbusters too!

Smushing at 3 weeks.

Getting a little too large to smush one handed at 4 weeks.

Getting to be an armful at 5 weeks.

And one last cheek smush at 6 weeks for this fellow before sending him to freezer camp. Broilers are typically harvested between 6-8 weeks of age. Normal chickens take 14-16 weeks.

One of the 26 original chicks expired in the first week due to unknown causes. We had some very cold weather to begin, and then blazing hot temps. We harvested 21 chickens over 3 days (our weather cooled down just in time) and we have 92 lbs of usable chicken parts in the freezer. We will wait another 2 weeks to harvest the last four. They will go from an average of about 5 pounds to 8-10 pounds in that two weeks. This batch has been interesting in that they have run around, gotten into cock fights, eaten grass and, in general, have behaved more like chickens and less like protein factories. It will be interesting to see if they taste any different. We have one package of legs and thighs, several packages of soup bones and feet, and one roasting bird from last year’s harvest. We grew 231 pounds of chicken last year due to the pandemic. We have not used our incubator this year due to being uncertain about Michael’s mobility. Turns out he’s incredibly mobile using his iWALK peg leg.

We anxiously wait to see how many chicks will come from Lil’ Blackie’s efforts. For the first time we have a broody duck (Sylvia!) so we will have ducklings too. So many happy surprises.

Season journal: green

The first haying began today. The humidity of cut alfalfa softens the dry hot weather.

Raking turns hay over, allowing it to dry before baling.

The first wild roses makes walking Zeke a scent adventure.

The wild grapes bloom with exuberance.

Wild carrots add lace to shoulders.

The river runs low but cool.

A bouquet of radishes. My guy knows what I like!

Thunder provides the background music for this post. ‘It’s the season for pop-up storms. This one will be short, but shakes the house. We spend our days weeding and watering and mowing. We have been thinking of our gardening soul-mate in Alabama, who landed in the hospital yesterday. All the sun and brightness we absorb we shine her way.

Garden journal: young sprouts

Grandchildren feel like the reward for having gifted others with the love of the hard, but good, work of tending to growing things.

The Grand Girl and her people arrived about a week ago. She’s been exploring all the gardens.

She rode the lawn tractor with her Boopa.

She helps herd the chicks and ducks in at night.

She totes the daily asparagus harvest.

She wore her Booma’s hat to go on Zeke walks.

She sang her Summa her duck song.

Michael did get his bunion removed this past Friday. The surgery involved cutting bones and realigning them, then fixing them in place with hardware. It went well and he’s taking care of himself. The other grandparents had the pleasure of the Grand Girls company for the past few days. We get her back for today, then they will be gone again. We already look forward to her next visit. And we look forward to meeting the new crop of Grands.

She will become a Big Sister in October and a Big Cousin in November. Christmas will overflow with younglings!

Blooming journal: all things bright and beautiful

Last fall I had an extra moment or two, which allowed me to finally plant some spring flower bulbs for Irene.

We were rewarded with the first crocus on April 4th.

It’s been a slow and frigid trek to true springtime. Frost still threatens tonight.

On April 14 the forsythia blooms held the last measurable snow.

The blood root first appeared on April 9. They then stood still, waiting for sunshine.

I saw them open on April 28, when we had an odd day of 80° weather. Back to highs in the 50s ever since.

I saw the first pussytoes on April 19th, but they didn’t start carpeting the roadsides until early May.

The first anemones and wild strawberries appeared around May 1st as well.

The tulips, hyacinth, and daffodils I hid in the rhubarb patch appreciated the relatively mild winter we had.

May 4th brought us baby chicks. We are not incubating any of our own this year due to Michael’s broken foot.

These particular apple blossoms have us bursting with anticipation. This tree came from a sprouting Granny Smith apple seed Michael planted almost 9 years ago. Apples do not come true from seed, which means we have no idea of the character of this tree’s fruit.

Michael set back his healing process by ignoring his doctor’s admonition to put no weight on his foot. After seeing the increased breakage on an X-ray, he has been better about keeping the foot off the ground. This hasn’t kept him out of the garden! He knows I’m digging as fast as I can, which isn’t fast enough. I have yet to finish turning over the big garden.

The radishes and lettuce he planted are sprouting! The tomatoes died from frost, but the peppers and eggplant survived. We have more tomato starts to plant once the frost warnings cease.

The crab apple will burst forth any day. The cherries, plums and juneberries brighten the woods as well as our gardens. Lilacs have blossom heads standing at attention, just looking for that next injection of warmth. We work. We wait. We wallow in spring green.

We celebrate life—in this instance, Irene’s birth 89 years ago.

Construction journal: let there be light (again)

The shelf above the sink lights the dishwashing process. It finally went up today.

As recounted in my last post, we had a sudden and catastrophic failure of the cabinets that housed most of our dishes and glassware. They also supported a light above the sink. I’ve been slowly working on replacing that light ever since. This was my process:

Michael and I found a small cabinet in the clearance aisle of our big box hardware store.

We modified it by taking off the kick plate platform and adding 3/4” plywood top and bottom. The shelf hangers are attached to studs and are rated for more weight than this cabinet will ever hold.

I did have to add another 2x4 cross piece on the back of the wall to attach the shelf hangers. Luckily, this area was still accessible. Not so further up, which is why there is only one shelf hanger on top. I used the shelf hanger instead of a more unobtrusive L bracket because 1) I had it, 2) it fit, and 3) I couldn’t attach anything to the top of the cabinet because there’s not enough room to get a tool up there, so I needed to rely on the leverage of length.

The cabinet had to go up first in order to figure out where shelves would fit. I won’t be using this same method when I build my permanent kitchen, but I fear I won’t get to do that for several years yet.

The next step in the process of replacing the sink light was moving the stove. This is also related to shelf location. My next project after the sink light is constructing a 28” long wall, 4 feet high, to act as a side-splash between the stove and the walkway into the dining room.

Moving the stove allows short people like me to reach the counter space in the corner, effectively doubling our usable space. Worth building a small wall!

The next step was to take down the rest of the shelves from the wall and patch all the holes made during the catastrophe.

Every time I worked in this area, I had to clear out everything used for cooking and washing dishes from breakfast, then replace it all in time to prepare supper.

I did wash the walls and ceiling before patching. Then I used a good primer. I also moved the paper towel holder to under the new cabinet. Michael is cleaning dandelions, which have been great as cooked greens and fresh salad.

It took a couple of days to paint due to using different colors. A little of that yellow goes a long way. I will paint the lower cabinets, but they were not integral to getting the sink light up.

Yesterday I installed the backsplash and rehung one shelf.

Today I got the new shelf hung. We are back to having light over the sink. Whew. I will put in more shelves on the wall next to the stove when another bout of rainy weather arrives.

I hope to get my own thumbs up from the Grand Girl at the end of May.

Construction journal: sudden and catastrophic failure

Clyde and Irene first built a structure on this land with the idea that it was a temporary space used to park during summer. Think: a stationary mobile home, only with single pane windows. The project we adopted when we moved here: to transform this under-built structure into an ADA compliant full-season home. We mostly control the time frame in which we undertake modifications. Occasionally, the structure chooses for us.

Michael and I were peacefully watching a movie on Saturday, April 10, when we heard an enormous crash. Michael said it took him a few moments to realize what had happened. As I knew the kitchen cabinets were made of particle board, I’ve been wondering how long they’d last. I wonder no more.

We filled several industrial trash bags with the broken crockery. We had things cleaned up that evening. The Corell survived, except the coffee cups.

We emptied the cabinet that used to live in the space now occupied by the chair. Most of the items in that cabinet are now stored downstairs in a box. Half the stuff was out of date paperwork that followed the broken crockery. We cleaned up the cabinet and moved it into the kitchen.

The survivors fit in the repurposed cabinet. We now have a bit more horizontal space in our kitchen!

Yesterday we purchased a small cabinet from the “bargain” area of our local big-box hardware store. It is meant to be installed on the floor with other cabinets on top of it. We will modify it, putting a top on it and figuring out how to deal with the kick space on the bottom. It is made out of three-layer plywood and is stapled together. The normal price of this cabinet ($525), coupled with its shabby construction, is why I will be making the cabinets for our future kitchen.

I have no idea when I will be able to get back to real construction projects, rather than emergency measures. The catastrophic failure cost us some nice bowls, coffee cups, and a bunch of jars of herbs. Ridding the kitchen of a looming danger without anyone getting hurt was worth it. I don’t hit my head on cabinet handles while doing dishes anymore. We have a wider walkway to the washer/dryer area. Little used items no longer take up precious living space. All in all, I’d say we’ve come out ahead.

In the meantime, I saw the first bloodroot blooms on April 9th.

We have had several inches of much needed rain. It has kept me out of the gardens, but frost danger still looms. Regardless, potatoes and onions need to get in the ground.

April 5 ushered in the first summertime clouds.

Michael and I get our second COVID vaccines later this month. Irene was fully vaccinated about a month ago. We can hardly wait to begin actively sharing the bounty of the Big Woods again! We just have to find the glassware we packed 7 years ago….

Garden Journal: being a bit keen

Local wisdom says to plant a garden the last week of May and to plant corn when the oak leaves are as big as a squirrel’s ear. I began turning over our 36’x36’ garden on March 21st.

The chickweed blooms early and prolifically.

Parts of the garden were still frozen solid.

Even so, the garlic grows and shows.

I turned over a bit less than a quarter of the garden in two days. Then our weather turned wet.

The chickens stayed inside.

The ducks rejoiced in mud.

Then our weather turned cold.

Duck art.

We have bounced between wet and wind and snow with the occasional warm sunny day.

Whenever I have a chance, I’m out battling the quack grass and chickweed. The parts that Michael turned over last fall go quickly. The parts where the weeds have taken hold go slowly. The frost is out of the ground now.

The snakes awaken. I heard frogs peeping yesterday. Today I saw a vulture. More signs of spring!

Despite local wisdom, Michael has started eggplant, tomatoes and peppers. He has also pruned our fruit trees, having rigged a system that is kind to his broken foot.

Persephone and Nate got married on the 23rd. We celebrated with them a few days later with a “wedding pie” and Prosecco. I love the fact that they got married at 6:30 am at the place where they met and where the minister still works.

I cut our annual pussy willow bouquet two days ago. They know we’ve reached more than 12 hours of sunlight, even if the high for today is 29°.

Warm weather or no, it is time to be outdoors!

Season journal: Happy Equinox!

My boots went squish when I released the birds. No more solid morning mud!

Mosses win the “first bloom of the season” contest.

We have snow in the north sides of buildings and embankments, but the garden yearns to be turned over. Onion sets await planting!

The rhubarb rewarded my vigilance by making an appearance.

The fields have yet to green. Hidden in the shadows a pair of Sandhills dance the tango.

Yesterday’s walk to the St. Croix River rewarded me with a bald eagle, trumpeter swans, and a goose. If you look down and right from the goose, you can see the wake a river otter was making.

Sunlight drives the pace of life here. Michael broke a bone in his foot and so I spend more time outdoors, trying to get all that he usually does done without getting broken myself. The Marines have a saying, “Pain is just weakness leaving the body.” Michael got me a shirt that says, “Pain is just pain entering the body.” I sleep with ice packs nowadays, but I sleep hard and well. The real challenge is getting Michael to stay off his foot long enough to let it heal. A difficult task for that man of action.
Regardless, we revel in the return of the sun.

Season journal: signs of early spring

I heard my first Sandhill Crane this morning. Sandhills sound so distinctive. Early March and already so much says “springtime!”

Last year’s ducklings are beginning to lay.

They don’t always use the nesting boxes.

They share nesting sites. It is easy to miss some caches.

Even covered with blankets in a dark basement, potatoes know it is time to grow.

Potatoes and eggs.

A little flour.

Gnocchi!

Paired with gratinéed fish and broccoli: an alternative to a Friday fish fry that didn’t disappoint Irene.

This was our first effort at these Italian dumplings: fun and delicious too. Leftovers went into a frittata for a different take on potatoes and eggs.

Our stores are getting thin, but forage for the deer is much thinner. The deer raid the bird feeders every evening.

The warm air and cold ground generates ice fog: spectacular in morning light.

The warm weather has eaten most of the snow…with a little help from Zeke.

We’ve been wearing our anniversary shirts outdoors regularly.

Michael stripped down even further for his semi-annual shearing.

The neighbors are sugaring. The early spring may mean a short syrup season. We are due for overnight freezing for the next week, so they may gather sufficient sap yet.

We look forward to feeding the Grand Girl whatever may be in season when next we meet.

March 10 update: first rain!

Season journal: the waters of February

From subzero highs to above freezing lows, February waters fall and flow.

This local roadside pattern mirrors a braided river bed: formed by slow water running over accumulated gravel.

The St. Croix froze over and the swans, geese, and other water birds fled. Here, a feeder creek opened, as did a small portion of the big river.

That same day I saw the swans had returned.

Later this past week the sun came out and began melting the trees, encouraging them to take a deep breath and swell.

This is a sign of spring here:: snow pocked by tree drops.

Ducks love muck. They muddle the snow, making puddles cupped by bowls of underlying ice.

The chickens venture out less, preferring dry feet. They lack down coats and carry their fat inside, instead of having a layer between them and winter earth.

Today we have snow again. The eyes say “winter” but the nose says “spring.”

We will work hard to have gardens and sprinklers to welcome the Grand Girl when she comes for a summertime visit. In the meantime, she practices putting on her own bathing suit, even if she grows in the desert, where water is scarce in all seasons.

Livestock journal: how Hector got his name

Our chicken flock suffers from too many roosters. This sorry state resulted from Lil’ Blackie becoming broody late in the season, which meant her chicks didn’t show secondary sex features until it was too cold to harvest them. Of her five chicks (all Giant White/Light Brahma mixes) three were male. We already had two roosters: the Giant White (named Mr. Whitey, because his only accomplishment was being a good caretaker) and a Barred Rock (named Roger, because that is who he is). A fox or bobcat relieved us of one extra GiWhAhma rooster, and the other two seemed to be getting along well enough with everyone else. As they all are somewhat indistinguishable, we’ve just been calling them the GiWhAhmas. Until yesterday.

Fallen feathers and what looked like blood, but was a bit of leaf.

Michael took advantage of the sunshine and 20° weather to open up the coops and clean them. That meant shooing out the birds. He noticed some real drops of blood on the ice that accumulated in the chicken coop and the absence of a GiWhAhma rooster. On his way to the used straw heap, he noticed the feathers in the snow. This is when he called me in to track down what happed to the rooster. Michael figured he got chased out of the coop and then eaten by a predator. The question really was: owl, eagle, bobcat or fox? I went to the last sign of feathers. No tracks. No blood. No trail. Then something caught the corner of my eye.

The poor boy ran away and found a place he couldn’t be attacked. He also couldn’t get out. How he got in upside down I’ll never know.

I tried kneeling next to him and easing him up and out, but didn’t have enough up space to make that possible. The next step was to dig him out.

These picket fence pieces got stored behind the pistol backstop long ago. Other boards got tossed on the ground back there as well. Digging out the fencing became a journey of discovery.

Finally, sufficient flexibility to free the chicken.

Here’s Hector!

Michael believes that chickens earn individual names through doing individual things. This no longer is an anonymous GiWhAhma, but Hector: he who was defeated in battle and dragged around the block. The classical Hector also died a violent death, which might happen to this guy as well, but not this day.

This day he got to sit in the sunshine and eat raisins until I was satisfied he hadn’t broken any bones and could get by on his own again. The fact that he let me hold him at all means he was pretty shaken up. The biddies raised by Lil’ Blackie are more skittish than our incubated chicks.

Hector went back into the coop last night. He seemed fine this morning. I do admit to being quite happy to have rescued him, as long as Michael doesn’t start calling me Hecuba. We may have to consider renaming Lil’ Blackie though. I credit her mothering skills with his survival. I do hope she raises another brood for us this year…just early enough to cull the excess roosters before they earn a name!

Style journal: comfort before beauty

In my prior post I mentioned having equipment to deal with the cold. There was also mention of fur and ashes. Let me elaborate.

Walking Zeke at 21 below. I don’t bother wearing glasses. That is frost on my hair wisps. My eyelashes sometimes ice up too.

From nose to toes I cover up as much as possible. I have long underwear from Cabela’s. Hunting clothes are great for warmth and wicking. My Sorrels are big and clunky, but paired with thick woolen socks, they do keep my toes toasty. They don’t breathe at all, so l take the liners out every several days to dry them out. I have baggy boy jeans to go over my long underwear. Hauling water and feed for the birds and wood for the stove can wear through a pair of girl jeans in half a day. A nice plaid shirt and my Carhart jacket keeps the top of me wind proof. Then I add an alpaca scarf under my “fake beard,” which allows me to create a nest that heats air before it hits my asthmatic lungs. A pair of lined goat skin gloves completes the ensemble.

Zeke is still eager to go on walkies, but I know it’s time to go back when he starts to try to hold all his feet off the ground.

The pavement shrank enough in the current cold to create cracks. Big ones. This doesn’t happen every winter.

We’ve gone through a bunch of wood. We have two more bins this size that are mostly full. Filling the wood bins before snow falls is a yearly priority. I’d feel worse about my carbon footprint except using the downed wood probably is more efficient than using oil shipped from Canada or Texas.

The wood burning stove lives in my office nook. This is the oldest part of the house and has no other source of heat. Wood heat is as cozy as it gets (smells good too), but spreads wood chips, dirt and fine ash. We haven’t finished the wallboard in this room as it will all get torn out again when we convert this area into a kitchen. Some day I shall have counter space!

We double plastic the two single pane windows that still live in my office nook. The stripe on the wall that continues along the ceiling is where we took out a wall so that the wood stove could more efficiently heat the rest of the un heated space. That is an awning you see outside the window. It keeps the window from leaking, but blocks any view. We will be installing all new windows in this area. Some day I shall see trees!

We have been here going on seven years. It seems we should have more done, except when you factor in that we do the work ourselves. This means we balance style and comfort. The part we have completed is fairly stylish, as well as comfy. My lust for counter space will overcome the inertia of having gotten used to dirt and ashes in my office nook. Just see if it doesn’t!