Chickens in our yard

So, it turns out that I may not be cut out to be a meat farmer.  I didn't really think I was, but the amount I am worrying about these four pullets (I think that is what you would call adolescent hens) may be an indication that a few egg laying hens and perhaps some bunnies(for wool, not meat)  are about as far as I can go.  We have been talking about getting the chicks out, but the chicken coop had just a few minor things that needed fixing, and we didn't know how to fix it, and then it got colder, and the chicks were huge pooping machines who would fling their bedding everywhere and I would have to clean out their water five times a day because it would be full of wood shavings and poop and our upstairs bathroom is totally trashed....and one chick(I changed her name from Thisbe to Goneril) was, I think, trying to establish dominance over the mysterious hand that came in to remove poopy bedding and would rush over to attack it, and it was just getting less than fun.  And then today, I decided to give them some grubs in their upstairs cage, to see if they would care to eat those.  They did not, and according to Elsa, when one of the grubs moved a little bit, they completely freaked out, spilling their water all over their cage, which had no wood shavings in it because they kick them all out and into their water.   And the cage smelled very bad, and I was done and just decided to move them out into their coop.

And so, despite all of the reading and obsessing I have been doing about raising chickens, I kind of hurled them into their chicken arc without really thinking it through.  I think you are supposed to put them in the roost area first, so they know where to go when it gets dark, but I was afraid that they were going to jump out, and I thought they would be happy to play in the grass.  And they were, running around in there en masse, eating lots and lots of clover, suddenly freaking out and lunging at each other, then going back to nonchalantly eating clover, rubbing their beaks on the grass to get rid of the horrible banana I was trying to tempt them with...So, when night fell, they didn't know what to do...they didn't understand my coaxing to go up to the roost, and just huddled below.  I did manage to grab one and fling her up there, but the rest figured out what I was doing and ran away from me and so are down below, and I am worried.  Not only that they will be eaten by a raccoon or something (which totally does worry me) but also that they are cold, and scared, and that  I should have provided a night light and a heating lamp and maybe have taken Jesse up on his offer to sleep out there (perhaps given to calm his neurotic pregnant wife) so he could defend them from all predators.  As well as sing them to sleep...okay, not that part.  But I am anxious and really hoping that they make it through the night and I am sorry if they are frightened and cold.

This is why they had to go....and I swept it out several times a day.

Raising animals is hard, kind of like raising children I suppose.  There has to be a learning curve.  I have never raised chickens before, and I have never raised an almost six year old little girl or a three and a half year old boy...and I just have to pray that my screw-ups don't have the direst consequences.  I hope those girls can stay down there.  I hope I can figure out how to get at them and show them where to go--the chicken arc is a little confusing that way.  I hope nothing eats them tonight.

Much Better

Wow...not that I didn't complain in the few posts I wrote during my first trimester, but man, I did not feel good. It was rough and I didn't feel much like doing anything besides, well, going on Facebook and perusing the internet, and maybe doing a little gardening.  But now, I am through the first trimester and I am feeling so much better.  And I am inspired to write again, although a little overwhelmed at the vast amounts of pictures on my camera.  All in good time.

Just a random shot of David--both children are heavily into climbing trees of late.

This weekend was nice.  Elsa came running in yesterday morning that there was a mourning dove building a nest.  She was gathering twigs and making a nest in a completely dead, ivy-strangled tree in our backyard, which I am realizing desperately needs to come down, but not just yet.  We all watched for a while--mama dove was sitting up there, while a two others were fighting nearby, I am assuming over territory.  I know very little about mourning doves, although I do love them.  I went for a run (I run a hundred steps, walk fifty--over and over again--it does wonders for my mood and energy), and then I took the kids over to Warren Wilson College, where they were having an event called Fiddles and Folklife--a festival celebrating the mountain arts.  There was an old-fashioned string band contest, and a ballad contest while we were there.   We listened a little inside, and I tried to talk to a woman who had on display a ton of hand-dyed yarn, all dyes that either grow wild around here or will grow--there were some really beautiful colors which made me again want to try to get a dye garden going...someday.   David, in particular, liked the music.  He just seems to want to move to it.  But really, what the kids wanted to do was to run around outside, on the beautiful campus.  Luckily for me, there were lots of bands all over, practicing together, so I could still listen while making sure no small child got completely lost.

Today Elsa and I bought paint for the chicken coop, finally.  It is going to be lavender.  And really, if you bring your not quite six year old little girl with you, what can you expect.  Actually, I am totally into it...I wanted some kind of fun color, and the guy at Town Hardware pointed out that a lighter color would keep the girls cooler in the summer...otherwise I probably would have chosen a brighter color.  We also made banana bread and gave out seed cookies (we mixed clay and compost and wildflower seeds and made various sculptures) out to the neighbors.  It was good.

On Holy Week, Gardening and Good Literature.

Although not quite appropriate for the Episcopal Church tradition (Holy Week is NOT a time for rejoicing), I have been making an effort to sing the two Easter hymns I can remember for the children, because they seem to enjoy it when they know the hymns and can sing along in the service.  (We sang a lot of Thanksgiving and Christmas songs, and they had so much fun)  Anyway, today, I caught David singing, "Jesus Christ is Risen Today, Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la."  Very funny and I don't want to forget.

We also started 24 tomato plants--I restrained myself until now--I am hoping that they will not be slamming for the whole time we are away.  Not that we didn't get plenty last year, but we did miss a good two weeks of the harvest when we were up north for our wonderful family reunion.  Elsa wrote the initials for the different kinds we planted (I am going to try a few hybrids this year--sacrilege, I know, but blight was so bad last year I am curious to see how they do) and David filled up the pots with soil and watered them, all the while declaring happily how he loved to help me, and it was his job to fill up the pots with soil.  Delightful.

Pretty soon we are going to go plant the potatoes.  Right now, they are outside playing Swallows and Amazons (I am reading it aloud to Elsa, and it is a great read, even though I am completely flummoxed by all the sailing references.  We are both enjoying the story of four children camping out on an island and sailing all over the place having mock battles with other children sailing, although the descriptions of them swimming alone and sailing at night with no life jackets does make me uncomfortable, and I find myself resisting commenting on how they really ought to be wearing life jackets....)  I packed them a picnic of bread, butter, and our last jar of pear butter which they are pretending is marmalade, and they are using the tarp for a tent. David came rowing in and asked for a bucket of milk, and has been delighting in saying, "Aye-aye, Sir!"  I am really enjoying this part of child-rearing--finding and reading good books to them, and watching it come out in their play.  I find myself a little tense about it-I don't want them to miss out on any of the great children's books.  I even find myself buying and squirreling away classics for later--I just bought and re-read Little Women, which was sicky sweet but still wonderful.  I just want to have a lot of good books on the shelves for them to read, as a defense against the truly terrible literature that is available for children.