Resilient

Some days you go along thinking you’ve got this thing, that you are strong and unshakable, and you’ll be alright.  Then a weasel gets into the chicken coop and kills every last chicken.  Every last one.  Two mama hens and their five almost grown chicks. Chickens we (mostly Mae) had been nurturing and loving since spring.   It was Mae’s hen who first went broody, and Mae who steadfastly checked her every day in her special nest box, and Mae who was there the morning they hatched, who came running to the house before breakfast to tell us that two fluffy heads were peeping out from under Pepper’s wing.  Both girls doted on them, checking them countless times through the spring, but it was Mae who would head down to the coop on her own to stroke Pepper and whisper to her “what a good mama” she was.

We found them before the girls and it gave me time to crumple in the barn, sobbing, shaking and swearing.  I know how weasels work, it’s not like they eat what they kill when they get in a coop.  I wanted not to blame the weasel, to feel that it was doing what it evolved to do, but I couldn’t help feeling something dark and ugly and totally senseless had happened.  Seven chickens, left whole but dead, just like that.  The rage and heartbreak gripped me and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mind screamed, “this too?”  I wasn’t sure how I’d walk out of that barn and tell the girls.

But we did, and there were tears, and questions, and anger at the weasel.  And then they made plans to pick flowers and bury the chickens in a special spot in the woods…right after we got back from swimming lessons.  (Seriously, we are going to swimming lessons?  Of course, Mama.)

All day long the tears spilled over for me.  It didn’t take much.  The sadness of the morning hung tight, and fed all my worries and fears.  I kept looking for a place to put it down, to find comfort.

Though the sadness still lingers it’s clear to me where to look for strength.  These two sweet and loving girls, who bravely picked bouquets, asked for a turn with the shovel, gently brushed the dirt back on top and decorated the grave with tenderness and acceptance.  

Mae and I lingered at this special spot in the woods for a little while, she made plans to plant some flowers on top of the grave.  We sat quietly for a little while.  Then she took my hand and said, “let’s go mama, I’m ready to ride my bike”.  

May resilience be what comes of hardship.  For them, for each of us. 

at home

We spent the long weekend at home.  Though it certainly had it’s challenges (sibling bickering, practice meltdowns, parent meltdowns…I won’t go on…), looking back over the weekend of photos, I realize we still had plenty of sweetness.  Starting with 300 pounds of honey!  Don’t worry, most of it is for Grampy.

 The girls are really digging the oil pastels and turning out some lovely work with them.

 Two very detailed “set-ups” held their attention for hours.

 As did these little cuties.

Oh and we can’t forget the other new addition to our farm.  Henrietta, merrily sitting on 17 eggs.  We traded her for some pork.  Oh my.

Andy finished up some sweet benches (to go with the matching tables, not pictured) for the folk school.

 We put up 32 pints of salsa and picked and ate a bowlful of wild plums.

 We took a long ride

and dried plenty of herbs for winter’s medicine.

That will do.  Happy Monday all.

chicken fort

I’m not sure who is enjoying all this attention the most, but the chicks don’t seem to be complaining.  And Iris got her brave on this weekend with inspiration from some sweet visiting friends and actually handled the chicks.  There’s no looking back now.  She’s all mama with these girls (at some point they were even swaddled, ever so gently mind you).  She told us before she went to bed that she “loves them so much she would sleep with them if they wouldn’t poop in her bed”.  She doesn’t have them potty trained yet, so I’m happy to report the chicks are sleeping in the shed.

Happy Monday everyone!

watching them grow

Despite the sickness that has been hanging on around here, Iris shone yesterday for her first solo violin recital performance.  She played some ensemble pieces too, then she gathered round with her comrades and received her own special piece of the violin cake.  After a year of hard work this girl has graduated from the “Twinkles” (these are the first several songs Suzuki violin kids learn to play while perfecting their form).  We couldn’t be more proud of her.  But what’s really awesome is how good she feels about herself.  This not-always-so-confident-kid has found a space to stand that feels strong and sounds really good.  She likes it there and it shows. 

Meanwhile, Elsa continues to charm the chickens with her constant devotion and well, persistence.  She checks the chicks day and night, helps to feed, water and clean their pens.  They have recently been moved from our basement to a larger pen with heat lamps in our shed.  She begs to be placed in the pen with them (she can’t quite climb in by herself) and will happily sit under the heat lamp with her chicks as long as we let her.  This girl who totes around some animal or another (be it stuffed or live) seems to have found her place of comfort as well. She’s shiny and smiling and sure of herself there.

How lucky we are to watch these girls grow. 

chick season

It’s chick season again, and the girls were eager, but Andy and I weren’t sure we really wanted to add many more to our already healthy flock.  So the girls got lucky with a spectacular business proposition from some friends (raising these little chicks and ducks until they are ready to leave our place and head to a new coop).  Yes, of course, we are keeping a few, how could we not?

So money was carefully counted and readied for the feed store pick up.  A budget was made (this project is a homeschooling parent’s dream) and the days were counted until the chicks arrived.

Finally the flock is here!  These little mama hens are taking their new job very seriously.  For the last couple of (early) mornings Andy and I have heard them whispering in their beds.  “Iris are you awake?  C’mon let’s go check the chicks”.  Then feet pad down the hall and the utility room door creaks open and the daily chick vigil begins.  Iris seems to be the official chick/duck food and water replenisher and pen cleaner, given her cautious nature that leads her to be just a bit timid about handling those wiggly little guys and her hardwired desire for things to be tidy (ahem).  Mae is still the official chicken catcher, because she’s rocked at that since she was two and duck poop doesn’t scare her.  They make a great team.

We rounded out the weekend with some great sap boiling and tasting, a cookout at Grampy’s, and time running barefoot in the mud and sand with friends.  April we are happy you are here!

around the farm

 I had intentions to write about other things tonight, but then 61 photos showed up on my camera from the weekend and proved to me that it was full enough.  So, a look around.

 Teamwork in raincoats.  We had to get out in it, wish it had lasted a little longer.

 Farmgirl style.

 The homegrown wheat project continues.  Threshing and winnowing experiments this weekend.  Further adjustments necessary.

Wishing you a wonderful week.

right now

 

Right now we are:

*Sorting and re-sorting all the candy from the Independence Day parade.  You might know we don’t eat a lot of candy around here.  So when we came home with 4 pounds of it (!) I was delighted when the girls really just wanted to sort it.  It was pretty addictive (the sorting that is).  Iris had to tell me several times “Mama, please just let us do this!”  All those colors and shapes and sizes, what fun!  A couple days of sorting and the candy is old news, tucked away, forgotten.  Whew. 

*Finding anywhere and everywhere to stay cool.

*Playing t-ball and watching games.  “Iris, how do you like t-ball?”  “It’s o.k., kind of just a lot of standing around and watching the ball”   Or, not watching the ball, as the case may be.  She is her mother’s daughter!

*Bringing in the sheaves.  After last year’s pigs tilled a small field for us, Andy planted it in wheat.  We hope to use some as animal feed, some for fresh ground flour and the leftovers for straw mulch.  We’ve never planted, scythed, reaped, threshed, winnowed, or ground wheat before.  But we seem to like a challenge around here, so why not?  Andy sharpened up his scythe and managed to chop down most of the wheat (however an early spring rainstorm had knocked the wheat flat so that added challenge to the challenge).  Bundling wheat that is laying every which way on the ground is, well, challenging.  But he managed to get them into something resembling sheaves (he does not want you to look closely at his work).  Threshing will come next.  That’s when you lay the sheaves on a flat surface and hit the seed heads with something hard (maybe a baseball bat?) to knock the seeds loose.  Then we’ll attempt to separate the seeds from the chaff (winnowing).  I think that involves throwing the wheat up into the air while the wind carries away the chaff and the wheat settles back to the ground in a little neat pile.  If there is not too much chaff in my eyes, I’ll be sure to try and get some photos.

* Listening to this band and loving it.

* Still chicken catching.  It just never gets old.

* Thinking, dreaming, dancing for rain.  Pretty much everyone east of the Mississippi is experiencing record-breaking heat.  Our pastures are as dry as we’ve ever seen them.  Crispy dry.  The sweet smelling red clover that usually fills our hilly meadows are just brown little heads bobbing in a sea of dry grass.  No point in cutting hay this month.  Our little stream is dry most of the way down our valley, there is still water at the top where the seeps are usually strong, but without rain I doubt it will hold much longer.  With a snow-less winter, spring warm up that started in early March, and now this heat and drought it’s hard to not worry about climate change (not to mention crop shortages).  And worry I do.  I’m not the only one.  These good folks continue to bring voice to this issue we just can’t ignore.  If you haven’t read this book, I still recommend it wholeheartedly.  

sure signs of spring (continued)

Spring continues to roll in around here as witnessed by:

Toes in the creek.
Lists to ready for the new baby chicks (“peeps”) coming on Friday.
A trip to the magical gardens of Fanny Gingrich, amazing Amish perennial grower.
Snakes!
Sheep shearing time! This year the sheep shearing happened at our place. Afterward we invited the shearer to dinner. The girls were entranced and hung on every interesting word this guy uttered. He stayed and chatted til 9. A reminder that spontaneity is good, and life is full of opportunity.

Happy Tuesday all!

mother hens

While I was at work today papa and the girls did what we do most days around here now. Play house. Hen house.

To say we’ve been spending a lot of time in the hen house is an understatement. The girls spend hours moving feed pans around, dumping water and getting fresh, coaxing along the egg layers in the nests, settling chicken squabbles, fixing ruffled feathers (literally and figuratively of course)

and pounding together ornate feeding houses so that they can move chickens in and out and in and out. You can see one in the background here (it had to have a peaked roof). Mae is about to catch Jingles (the black chicken) and insist she eat in the new feeding house. Thank goodness chickens are kind and patient creatures and fairly greedy so they’ll do just about anything the kids insist upon as long as food is involved.

Note: For those of you who are wondering, the blaze orange hats are because it’s deer hunting season. Not that we think we’ll get shot at in the barn, no, it’s all about getting into the spirit you see…the girls are determined to be just like everyone else… in the trucks going by, at the post office, in the grocery store….observant little ones they are, but then I guess the blaze is hard to miss.

Elsa Mae’s gift is definitely chicken whispering. Everyone has something.

And I’ll leave you with my favorite two photos of the day (courtesy of papa). He has no idea what little animals he is raising! (Look closely at the black sheep and you’ll see what I mean!)

Happy Thanksgiving to you all. May your week be full of many moments of gratitude.

right now

Right now we are pressing and drying the last of the season’s apples, baking loads of pumpkins for freezing, drying comfrey for medicinal oils and salves and love, love, loving our chickens.

May your week be full of goodness too.