Snow update

Hilda reports this morning that she saw Ina venture into a drift. She wasn't in it long. Her little feet sank right down into the snow. Still, we are proud of her for trying. No pictures, though. More's the pity.

Happy Holidays

Fun with Photoshop!

Rain! Snow!

Today is the first day of winter not only on the calendar but also outside. We had a good soaking rain in the night Wednesday. Neither Terry nor I heard anything in the night, but the rain gauge showed 1.4” when Terry went out in the morning. We did the Dance of Joy. We got another inch during the day. We did the Dance of Joy again! At 3:30, the rain changed to snow. The winds were fierce. Hilda closed the coop early since the girls were in anyway. They don’t like the wind.

Snow blowing horizontally at 3:42 p.m. Thursday

We didn’t even open the coop this morning because the wind still was blowing hard, although not like yesterday. The coop was a relatively toasty 24°F, about 10° warmer than outside. In addition to keeping the coop warmer, having the door closed seemed like a good idea because of the drift through the chicken run. It comes about half-way up the fence. I’m perplexed about that. Can chickens walk on top of drifts? If so, will they be more inclined to flutter over the fence? Will I have to shovel out the run? Not excited about that! So far, the chickens haven’t cared much for the snow. Last weekend was their first snow experience. The ground was just barely covered. When I opened the door, they ran out as usual, halted abruptly as their little feet hit the cold stuff, and tore back in the coop.  It will be interesting to see how they respond to serious accumulation.

Terry had to shovel out the coop door before I could do my chores.

The drift through the chicken run.

After the chicken chores and breakfast, I helped Terry shovel the driveway. He had pre-treated part of it with an ice-preventing product that claimed to be safe for cement, pets, and plants. The experiment was a huge success. Everywhere he treated shoveled clean. Other areas were glaciated from the rain-to-snow transition. I can hear him out there now chipping away at the icy spots.

It certainly looks like we will be having a white Christmas Observed on Sunday. It remains to be seen if the snow will stick around for Christmas.

Our bird feeder with the north side covered in frozen slush

Snow on the oaks

Oh Christmas tree!

We harvested our first Christmas tree on Friday. It was a Frasier fir, the premium species for Christmas trees. I was never able to afford one when I had to buy it. I always settled for balsams.

It’s a lovely tree, about six feet tall. Terry let me pick from among the trees that he planted in 2005 just after we bought the property. The white pines were too tall for our relatively low ceiling. Besides, I like the shorter fir needles. It’s easier not only to hang the ornaments, but also to see them.

Terry cuts the tree

The cut tree

We wanted to get the tree in on Friday while the weather was sunny and pleasant. Terry spent some time picking dead oak leaves from among the branches so we wouldn’t drag them in the house.

Picking oak leaves from the tree on a sunny and warm afternoon.

We haven’t had a real tree in several years. Della had to inspect the tree when we put it up.

Della inspects the new addition to the living room

We decorated the tree after supper. Jane gave me a new ornament to commemorate our first year with chickens. I hung it next to Piglet and above SpongeBob.

The decorated tree

Our new chicken ornament with Piglet and SpongeBob

The rain forecast for Saturday happened!  We had alternating rain and drizzle all day, adding up to 0.7”. It is a measure of our changing standards that we consider less than an inch a major precipitation event. We’ll take it!

The tree in the dark

 

Christmas in Chicago

I didn’t have any grading to do last Thursday, so Terry and I went downtown. Last year we went after the K-12 schools were out. It was a madhouse. I vowed to go earlier this year.

We took the 9:35 train and arrived at 11:23. I was ravenous by that time. We went directly to Daley Plaza to Christkindlmarket for lunch. Even though it was the least crowded we have ever seen it, we had to stand in line for some minutes to get our food an beverages. Terry went for the beer. I got the currywurst and sauerkraut. Terry won.

Christkindmarket in front of the Picasso sculpture in Daley Plaza

We were lucky enough to get two seats at a picnic table outside. It was a relatively warm day and not uncomfortable eating al fresco.

Sausage slices  in curry sauce with bread for dipping and a side of sauerkraut

We walked around the booths briefly. There wasn’t anything we hadn’t seen before. We got a sugar-coated “pretzel” from a bakery stand. It satisfied my tasted for something sweet, but I wouldn’t get one again. We noticed that the city is skimping on the Christmas tree this year. No ornaments, only lights. It didn’t look like much in the middle of the day.

The Christmas tree with lights only. The lights are on, but it's hard to tell.

Also at Daley Plaza, the Eternal Flame veteran memorial and pigeon warmer.

We walked to State St. and looked at the windows at the store formerly known as Marshall Field’s (it’s Macy’s now, but will always be Marshall Field’s in my heart). There were only a few windows decorated this year. The theme seemed to be assorted Christmas traditions through time. Lame. Were the windows really better when I was a child, or is that just false memories?

The holiday trumpets outside the store formerly known as Marshall Field's

Terry looks at the "Magic of Christmas" window

We went to the 8^th floor to see the tree in the Walnut Room. We finally saw the Tiffany ceiling this year. Once I saw it, I wondered how I had missed it all these years. Still, Terry had to ask a store employee where it was before we could find it.

The tree in the Walnut Room. The stars on the tree flash off and on.

Tiffany ceiling

We went up to Michigan Avenue and down the Magnificent Mile. The only store we went in was Crate and Barrel. They did not have any 9.5” bread pans. In fact, there was nothing there that I couldn’t live without.

A bridge over the Chicago River near the site of Fort Dearborn. The Wrigley building is on the left; Tribune Tower is on the right. When the bridge was built, it included a bas relief (front left) depicting white men slaughtering native Americans. I'm sure it seemed like a good idea at the time.

It didn’t seem very far to the Hancock building this year. I think it was because the weather was so pleasant for a walk. It can be quite a hike in a cold wind. We went to the Signature Lounge for our second beer of the afternoon. At $7.50 a pop, the drinks were not cheap, but it is essentially the same price as admission to the observation deck, and you get a beer. Also, the view from the Ladies’ Room is awesome. Terry says there is no window in the Men’s. How sad for them.

Terry gazes pensively into the distance in the Signature Lounge, 96th floor of the Hancock Building.

The north shore

View from the Ladies' room

We took a brief tour through Millennium Park. We got to the skating rink just in time to watch the Zamboni groom the ice. We visited the video faces. Terry inspected the trees.

The Zamboni grooms the ice in front of the Bean

Terry in front of the video face in Millenium Park

By pure chance, we got back to the train station at 3:50, timing for the 4:05 back to Harvard.  It was a fun day.

Why I love chickens

Sorry. I have not only let two weeks lapse without a post but also not taken any new pictures. I meant to take my camera with me for Thanksgiving at my brother’s house. The road to hell….

I’ve been thinking of all the things I enjoy about having chickens. I like being outside at the crack of dawn to let the girls out. Twice this weekend, Hilda and I had a lovely walk around the property after the chicken chores were done. There is something extremely satisfying about lifting a warm egg from a nest box. The hens are always busy and always entertaining to watch as they run in and out of the coop, cooing, squawking, scratching in the dirt, running here and there, and chasing each other over tasty morsels. If I am contemplating making something with eggs and find I don’t have enough, I don’t have to go to the store; I only have to wait until later in the day. I have mentioned the superior taste and quality of our eggs before, but it bears repeating.

I made waffles this morning to use up some buttermilk. Left to my own devices, I would always make pancakes. My husband maintains that pancakes “are too filling.” (I can talk about him because he never reads this.) In my world view, pancakes and waffles are exactly the same except that waffles are more of a pain in the neck to make because the eggs have to be separated and the whites whipped to soft peaks. Furthermore, they have to be cooked in the waffle iron two at a time instead of six on the griddle like pancakes. Well. The things we do for love. Admittedly, leftover waffles heat up better in the toaster than pancakes. But pancakes can be microwaved. Either is a fine thing to have in the freezer.

I hadn’t made waffles since we moved and certainly not since we had fresh eggs. My first discovery was a happy one—the fresh egg whites whipped in half the time (in the spirit of disclosure, I did not time it, but I also didn’t feel like my arm was going to fall off before I was done). My second discovery was not so good—the waffle iron, hot pot, convection oven, and microwave cannot be operated all at once without tripping the circuit breaker. By the time the breaker was reset, I had completely forgotten about the bread in the oven. However, when I did remember, the oven had only lost 25°F. No harm done.

Other that cooking, baking, walking, and taking care of chickens, the rest of my weekend was spent madly cranking out video clips for my partially online class. We’re down to the wire, and there’s no way I can get through genetic engineering and immunity in an hour tomorrow night. Next weekend should be more relaxing.

Brussels sprouts and possum poop

I had hoped that Terry would have shot a big buck this weekend so I could blog about that. He has had several shots, but no hits. At least we know the deer are around, even if not within range.

Saturday was a lovely, sunny, 50 degree afternoon. Hilda and I went out to harvest the very last of the garden. The Danish ballhead cabbage and the Brussels sprouts didn’t do diddly squat during the hot dry summer. I left them in to see if they would amount to anything in the cooler fall weather. Most of the cole family can stand a freeze. Many of them become sweeter after the frost. Some of the cabbages still hadn’t tightened up, but seven of them had cute little baseball to softball-sized heads. The Bubbles Brussels sprouts were still pathetic. Diablo and Jade fared better, but it was hardly a bumper crop, and most were small. We dug the roots out while we were at it. If Terry decides the soil conditions are right, he can still Rototill before winter.

Brussels sprouts (var. Jade) on the stem

I trim the leaves off the stalks while wearing an orange cap, just in case  hunter might think I was a deer in red plaid.

The chickens did a pretty good job cleaning out the herb bed. Hilda took the spading fork in to pull up the parsley roots. Ellie helped by scratching the soil and eating worms.

Ellie helps Hilda clean out the herb bed.

The last thing Hilda did was to dig the crosnes (pronounced “crones”). These odd little tubers are prized by trendy chefs. To me, they are more work than they are worth. Hilda has a much higher tolerance for tedious work.

The crosnes are the white tubers. Hilda's finger is  in the top of the picture for scale.

We had a melancholy moment contemplating the empty garden. Fall is a sad time for us with the plants dying back and settling down into dormancy. I feel better when we get a nice layer of snow. Then it seems more like the earth is sleeping all cozy under its white blanket.

The empty garden. In the foreground, a pink tray with the last mini-cabbages and the pile of waste leaves topped with Brussels sprout spines.

Hilda usually leaves the “egg picking” to me on the weekends because she gets to do it all week.  I checked twice yesterday and found a total of three eggs, but every time I looked, there was a hen in the east nest box. We don’t usually disturb the hens to check for eggs underneath since we check several times a day. I figured it was a slow egg day and left the last check for Hilda. I took my cabbages and Brussels sprouts in the house and started cleaning them. I heard a knock at the door followed by Hilda calling. “Which is the favorite nest box,” she asked.

“The east one. Why?”

She held out the egg basket with SIX eggs in it. That brought the total to nine for the day.

Here’s our nature moment for this blog. We had noticed a possum hanging around under out bird feeder every night. Terry brought it to my attention that the ground was getting covered with possum poop. I had never seen possum poop. It seems to have an awful lot of fibrous material in it, as if the possum had been eating a lot of grass. I looked it up in the poop book (actually A Field Guide to Animal Tracks by Olaus J. Murie), hoping to confirm Terry’s identification. The book said, “Opossum scats are unfortunately not distinctive and will vary in accordance with the kind for food eaten.” Is there any omnivore for which this is not true?

Possum poop with sunflower seeds for scale.

 

Maximum productivity

We finally had 10 eggs in one day yesterday. In my last post, I speculated that it wasn’t the same Araucana that didn’t lay every day. We have revised that hypothesis. Hilda found a small egg on the floor of the coop last week. We hadn’t seen an egg out of the next boxes since the onset of laying. Terry guessed at the time that these first eggs were so small that they caught the hen by surprise. We have not had any reason to reject that hypothesis. Therefore, this egg outside the nest suggests that one hen was slow to mature. I think it was Ina. She’s the smallest, and I had never seen her in a nest box. Hilda saw Ina peering into the nest boxes one day and sitting in one the next.



I was able to get a photo of three hens in the nest boxes all at once. Unfortunately, Nigella was facing the wrong way. It is very cute to open the back door and have three hens poke their heads out.

Left to right: Jennifer, Bridget and Nigella in the nest boxes.

We are having an unseasonably warm day today. There is, however, a strong wind from the east, so the girls can’t quite make up their minds whether they want to be in or out.

As the girls have grown up, they have become less distinctive. I’m sure it’s exactly what a breeder wants—a breed true to its breed, but it’s gotten very hard to tell the two fat ladies apart and distinguish among the Dominques. I finally broke down and ordered leg bands. Jane did the research for me. Since she retired, she has become my go-to person for searching the internet. I needed three leg bands, one for one of Light Brahma and two for the Dominiques. One chicken without a leg band counts as a marking.  The smallest number of leg bands I could order was 50. It may be a lifetime supply. I got the assorted colors. Having 50 of one color was no help at all. If we add to the flock later, it would behoove us to mark the old hens for that sad day when we might have to cull.

A lifetime supply of assorted 12/16" leg bands

The bands came last Thursday. They are just plastic rings that pull apart and go over the leg, like a key ring but easier to separate.

Hilda came out with me this morning to install the leg bands. She grabbed Clarissa first. I put an orange band on her leg. She was NOT happy to have her leg touched. Giada got a green band and Sara, blue. They were not so fussy about it. I saw Clarissa pecking at her band later. The bands were obviously large enough (maybe even too large—that remains to be seen) for the Dominques. The feathers on Clarissa’s legs are a complicating factor. We’ll watch for signs of discomfort/infection. Jane worries that the other chickens will be jealous of the chickie bling. We’ll have to keep an eye on that too.

Clarissa with her orange leg band. NOT happy.

Giada sports her green leg band, which you can see if you look closely at her left leg.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

More eggs

We reached the tipping point this weekend. We had more eggs than we knew what to do with. Our 10 hens laid 9 eggs on both Friday and Saturday. The Dominques and Light Brahma each laid one for 5 brown eggs. One of the Araucana didn’t lay. We don’t know who, and she’s not telling. Probably it was not the same one on both days in any case.  I gave a dozen eggs to a friend who came to visit on Saturday and delivered another dozen to  a different friend this morning. We only had 4 eggs today. Sunday is a day of rest. Just as well. We are so not ready for 9 eggs a day forever.

When I checked on the chickens yesterday, all three nesting boxes were full. I would have loved a picture, but I didn’t have my camera.  I did get a picture of Jennifer today. The girls are so cute when they put their head out of the nest box when I open the back door.

Jennifer looks out of the back of the nest box

 

Araucana eggs in the nest box

 

Last Sunday, we did a small fire. Terry had some old lumber and a couple of dead trees to get rid of. Pat and Nancy came out to help. Jane and her mom came for a little while. Jane brought cider and cider doughnuts, which were much appreciated.  The afternoon started out cold, but we shed layers as the fire got going. Certainly it was nothing compared to the fires of old when we were clearing dead trees out of the wetland. Still, it was a fun afternoon.

The start of the fire

It has to be cold if Pat puts her hood up

By this time, we had all taken off at least one layer.

The last thing we burned was the pallet that came with the post hole digger Terry bought for the tractor

Before we started the fire, Pat and Nancy helped us move the chicken fence and position a windbreak in front of the coop door. The girls didn’t know what to do at first. They seemed confused by their new space. By the time we came up from the burn, they had moved out to the border between the new and old territory.

The girls stand at the border between the old boundary and the new, edging cautiously to the green grass.

 As the week went by, they discovered the raised beds one by one. We wanted them to be able to dig in the raised bed. It’s good for the bed and good for the chickens. They have worked on the beds from east to west, beginning with the rose/petunia bed and then the sweet grass. Today they started in on the parsley. By spring, the beds should be weed-free, tilled, and fertilized, all without us doing a thing. 

Nigella scratches in the rose bed

Ina in the sweet grass.

Also, the girls like to sun themselves on the new windbreak. Chickens are so fun!

Happy chickens on the new windbreak

 

Beautiful day!

We’re getting 6 to 8 eggs a day now. We have enough for our needs and are able to give eggs away to close friends by the dozen. The weather is in the 70’s today. The girls love it! Ellie plastered herself against the side of the coop and stretched her wing out to sun herself. By the time I got my camera, Clarissa had gotten too close, so I wasn’t able to get a picture of the outstretched wing.

Ellie suns herself by the coop.

I have a billion things to do as usual today, but I could not help but spend some time just watching the chickens enjoy the afternoon. Here’s a little video of Jennifer taking a dust bath and Ingrid stretching:

 

Hilda and I pulled the rest of the carrots today. We have enough for several weeks. Some of the carrots grew too close together and wrapped around each other.

The rest of the carrots

Carrots in love

Not much other news here today. I’ve just been really busy with work. Ptui.