Meet the New Chickens!

What's spring without a few new additions? The coop has stood empty for far too long, so Maya and Joe headed East in search of new inhabitants.

They returned with the most entertaining assembly, four full-sized, shockingly athletic hens and four itty bitty bantams. They were utterly terrified when they arrived, but after just a few days, the found their niche. Some are snugglers (strange but true), some are scaredy chickens, and some are wiley birds ready to make their own entertainment.

Here is Zebra, a full-sized, remarkably tame (or possibly just slow) full-sized Barred Rock hen. 

This is the aptly named Hercules, a full-sized Favarolle mix hen. She's the muscle of the coop, able to fly 5 feet straight up with out a running head start (Joe's outside securing the top of the run as I type). She's too fast and too smart to catch, but she's hilarious to watch stalking the yard and herding the other chickens.

Clementine the Second, a full-sized black star hen is not as lovely as our original Clementine with her green patches of feathers, but she does have an identical personality. She will not be caught, under any circumstances. But she does like to follow Hercules on her antics atop the coop.

Hunca Munca is our most striking bird. She's a full-sized Delaware Blue Hen, and she'll shriek bloody murder if you corner her.

Louise the chicken, a White Rock Bantam, is true to her name. She's the smartest bird in the flock, and if she thinks you're out to get her, she'll run like her tail feathers are on fire. If she thinks you have corn, however, she's at your side in a second.

We have one Barred Rock Bantam named Speckles. Or Freckles. Or Silver. I'm sure the girls will settle on a name soon enough. She as tame as s kittens and makes the most adorable little chirpy noises. She is the smallest, the favorite, and rather in danger of being over-loved so we keep an eye on her.

 Then there is the Wyandotte Bantam, Snowflake. Wait... maybe she's the favorite. Either Snowflake or Silver Speckles are tucked under one of the girls arms at all times.

 Finally, there's Flame. She's a pretty little Buff Wyandotte Bantam. She's so cute, but she's also terrified of everything: us, the other chickens, corn or scraps tossed into the run. She spends most of her time perched in the roost peering fearfully outside. When she is outside, she sticks close to her sister hens, especially Louise and Snowflake.

To top it all off, we stumbled upon a bunny  nest while raking today. Trust me, after sharing the best of this springs lilly bulbs with their mother, I wasn't exactly in the mood to love a rabbit (I was thinking more along the lines of Mr. McGreggor and his pies). But whose heart isn't touched by these startled little guys. Two weeks old at best.

We didn't plan to touch them (and disrupt their mama's plan to raise them), but when one nearly ran up my shorts (I was weeding, Joe was raking), I could barely help but grab her. The girls were mesmerized.

What a perfect spring day!

Happy Halloween!

We spent our day at Pinehaven Farms, visiting our chickens in their lovely new home. Shockingly, we recognized all four of them easily, even amid their new coop mates. I wouldn't have predicted that. Now we know, a chicken is not just a chicken.

They are definitely living the good life over there, amid a whole fleet of other animals. There were kittens scampering around, so tame the girls tried to take them home (this time I was firm... no making that mistake twice!).
After a brief battle over how many layers it might take to stave off hypothermia, we made the rounds in the neighborhood as well, wrapping up Halloween 2010.

For Maya's daytime costume, she wanted to go to the farm dressed as a real farmer... you know, just the boots and jeans and a normal shirt. Ha!

Free as Birds

They flew the coop.

Our hens had all but stopped laying, and their days were numbered in our backyard. The question was, where...or how. The popular suggestion from our former farming relations has been fairly consistent and involves a clothesline, a meat cleaver, and a stew pot.

None of that for us thank you. We took the wimp's way out.

Craig's List can solve almost any bad case of the how-to-get-rid-of-this blues. Once again, it came through for us in a big way. Honestly, we expected to send them off to someone else's pot. "Embrace the food chain" empowerment sentiments are all well and good until you've shared playground equipment with an animal. At this point, neither of us were willing to stand up and handle the meat cleaver... or whatever.

Hurray! No stew pot for these ladies! A nice gentlemen from Pinehaven Farm picked up our lovely brood (the four remaining ones.... anyway) and brought them to their retirement home. They are now proud (if confused) members of a petting zoo. They can live out their days to the sounds of happy children playing, until the end swoops in with a dramatic "hoot, hoot."

Sure, he mentioned an owl problem at the farm, along with a new fox family that moved in this summer. It has to be better than a stew pot, right? And we can honestly say, the chickens ran off to join a petting zoo. The backyard is a quiet place now, awaiting new residents next summer.

Photo Friday Challenge

At the moment, I have no tools capable of putting pictures up on the internet. So the blog has been quiet this week, and photo Friday will be sans photo. Hopefully, next week will be a bit livelier, even with the holiday. Instead, I'll post a random update:

1) Yes, we still have chickens. The way they looked in September, it seemed they might not make it through the winter. As it turns out, molting is an ugly process for some birds! Our two white rocks blew their feathers in a wretched, bald display worthy of a Loony Toons prank. We thought they must be dying; in our defense, one of them did have a concerning tendency to, um, hold on to her eggs. After a month of worry (and some macabre research into the final phase of a chicken's life), we woke up one morning to a pair of fluffy white birds, full of new feathers and with their egg laying techniques perfected. The flock is once again happily self-sufficient.

2) Miss Maya Ballerina is strutting around the house imitating scenes from "Singing in the Rain" and asking repeatedly if it is time for her fall recital. The big mystery is whether she will freeze at the sight of her audience, as she did last year during the Valentine's pageant, or if she will continue the dramatic performances she puts on for us each night.

3) Elliot, though assertive and fearless most of her days, now walks around the house saying "I only want you, mama," whenever I'm out of her sight. That's what I get for leaving her somewhere new... she needs more practice at that! Suddenly, her exploration radius (the distance she's willing to get from me) has shrunk again. I think I have my work cut out for me.

There are a few stray tidbits in place of the pictures I intended to post. Look for more next week!

Photo Friday: Peas in a Pod

And on the vine...
A helpful harvester....

Tender treats for the girls and the ladies...


Growing bounty and endless weeding....

And delphiniums, our new favorite flowers....

Chicken Ladies Enemy Number 1: Rhubarb

Is the most thriving plant in Vegetable Village threatening to take out the chicken ladies?

A few days ago we un-cooped our hens to astonish and enthrall the neighborhood kids. I was surprised and more than a little alarmed when they headed straight for the rhubarb. As bushy and vigorous as this plant is, the chickens made lace of its leaves within a few minutes.

Rhubarb leaves are notoriously toxic to people and most pets, but the chickens seemed unphased after their feast. Too preoccupied to Google the matter, I spent a nervous night wondering if they would make it to dawn.

Thankfully, they survived, but now that I've done my homework, I'll be defending the chickens from the rhubarb, and the other way around, for the rest of the summer.

Rhubarb is on this list of plants toxic to chickens.

The leaves are full of oxalates that can cause kidney damage, cardiovascular problems, and a plethora of other issues. The effect is much more pronounced in people, but some chickens that grow fond of the leaves (as ours have) can suffer cumulative poisoning as well.

Good thing I finally did my homework! Hmmm, now, where did I put my rhubarb cake recipe?

Victory at Vegetable Village

In my experience, it takes a village to accomplish nearly anything with young children under foot. Somehow, the village came together over the last few weeks and our family victory garden is officially planted.

Of course, the girls themselves were enthusiastic contributors. Elliot fell in love with the process, though she shows a certain lack of understanding. She now plugs any seed-shaped objects she can find into the nearest soil-like substance. (Mind your earrings near the sandbox, please!)


Maya has been a wonderful apprentice, carefully following my lead and planting more than half of our treasures. She is particularly fond of the snapdragons the she selected, planted, and watered all on her own.


Maya also spearheaded a planting expedition with the new neighbor kids. Nothing says "Welcome to the neighborhood" quite like sharing a few rows of edamame!

With four of the last five weekends booked at the ever-exclusive Chateu de Aadland, our guests have offered their own contributions ranging from helpful advice, to cuttings, and even a set of uniquely engineered tomato cages that will soon support next winter's marinara supply.

It doesn't look like much yet, but Vegetable Villiage is taking shape. Current residents include various peppers, tomatoes, potatoes, green and purple pole beans, red and yellow corn, yellow squash, zucchini, patty pan squash, cabbage, pak choy, kalarabi, swiss chard, carrots, beets, raddishes, spinach, lettuce, cucumbers, watermelon, asparagas, sweet peas, edamame, basil, thai basil, parsley, cliantro, rosemary, and other various herbs that I'm blanking on at the moment.


Now we just have to sit back and watch it grow. Well, that, and defend the tender seedlings from ferocious weeds. Good thing we have a village.... and a lot of mulch!

Inner Nature

For the past two years, a family of cardinals has nested in the young pine tree above the girls' sandbox. In spite of their notoriously aggressive nature, we think they make great neighbors.

The girls love them because their bright coloring is easy to spot. We often mimic their harsh, whistling song, watch their babies practice flying, or the parents gather food. Joe and I share some nostalgic fondness for the animal that was once our high school mascot (and that of most of our relatives).

Maya helped set up the tent.... practice camping for her big birthday camping trip!

Unfortunately, the chicken ladies don't think the cardinals make such great neighbors.

Today all five of the juvenile cardinals snuck into the chicken run through a gap in the roof of the fence. True to their inner nature, the pushy cardinals darted around, fiercely and noisily pecking at the corn we had just laid out for the ladies.

Meanwhile, true to their own reputation, the ladies.... well, they were chicken. Within 30 seconds, they had all sprinted to the coop, with all the open-winged off-kilter hilarity of running chickens . The noisy, swirling attack of the cardinals didn't last more than a minute or two. They didn't clean up the corn, just had a taste, then flapped around ineffectually for a bit before rediscovering the way out.

Our ladies didn't work up the guts to leave the coop for a good 15 minutes. Even then, Maya and Elliot lured them with freshly plucked dandelions.

Lately, it has been so tempting to make these sweeping observations about the girls, their similarities, their differences, their inner natures. Maya the tender heart... Maya the helpful. Elliot the gleeful... Elliot the willful. Intellectually, I want to resist this urge. I would hate to box them into expectations or label them in some limiting way.

Is that sunscreen on the eggs?

But the chickens and the cardinals weren't the only ones demonstrating their inner natures today. Helpful Maya covered the newly harvested chicken eggs with sunscreen, so they wouldn't get burned in the basket while we took them inside. She also helped set up the tent for a little "pretend camping." Meanwhile, impish, gleeful Elliot was pulling up the stakes, hiding them in the sandbox, and then running laps... up the ladder, down the slide, up the ladder, down the slide.... Perhaps, this isn't an inner nature thing, just a 19-month-old and an almost-4 thing... Or a big sister little sister thing.

Either way it has been a highly entertaining morning.

It is close to 70 today, making Elle's thermal vest unnecessary...
but Maya had her camping vest on, and Elliot insisted that she have a vest too.

The Lucky Flock

Our ladies are some seriously lucky birds.

Or we are some seriously lucky backyard birders.

Since our plan to start a flock was hatched last spring, I have frequently snooped around the net on other blogs, message boards, and online communities, attempting to learn as much as possible about these birds.

It's amazing this research didn't turn me off from the whole project. Nearly every account started with, "chickens make great pets due to easy maintenance, egg production, and loads of personality; but...." At that point, the author would detail the latest horror story in her flock, from predators to parasites, from strange ailments to problems with laying hens that might require an OB/GYN specialty to repair... Eek!

The effect was frightening, but so goes internet research, right?

Our ladies have made it through the grand experiment of winter with no ill effects. They are all fluffy, healthy, and delighting neighborhood children with their comical laps around the chicken run, persistent begging, and constant, clucky chatter.

Yep, we have one lucky flock!

Funny Thing about Picnics

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Really!

Maya was healthy (enough) and enthusiastic about getting to preschool this morning. So enthusiastic that she had herself dressed and in the car by 8... and we usually leave at 9... so after coaxing her back into the house for a few rounds of Candy Land off she went.

On the way home a couple of hours later, Maya's energy level still seemed really high. I suspect she may have spent the last few days of her recovery hoarding energy reserves for the rest of the spring.

When she spied another mom with two little girls picnicking by the playground, she took up the persistent chant "mom, can we have a picnic.... mom, can we...."

"Yes, yes of course."

I agreed in spite of that other picnicking mom and the sullen look on her face as she struggled to keep her girls and their picnic items in one spot. I agreed because I love picnics. Sitting in the warm sun, knowing the kitchen won't need to be cleaned, and watching my girls enjoy a little lazy time in the backyard after a healthy, if a little grassy, nourishment.

As it turns out, in a few minutes I would share that other mom's expression.

We headed into the backyard with high hopes, just as soon as we finished assembling the organic peanut butter and homemade rhubarb-strawberry jam sandwiches on organic, high-fructose-corn-syrup-free bread, filled a plate with cut up banana, grapes, and apples, and snagged some milk cups.

It took a while to get to the back of the yard, where the new (to us) kid's picnic table sat... chicken run adjacent, I might add.

It took a while because my hands were full of lunch, and Elliot kept running back into the garage to climb into the jogging stroller and shout "walk, walk!" We had been for a run to the park this morning. The first one of the season... apparently it made an impression.

It was slow progress: convince Elliot to follow Maya, pick up the tray of lunch items, walk a few steps until Elliot doubled back.... start over. Finally, Maya grabbed her little sister by the hand and gently led her to the table.

Phew.

Then I realized my mistake. Sticky jelly. A relatively sandy table. And five hungry chickens begging for handouts.

Elliot took one look at the paper plate full of little, sticky sandwich squares and immediately formed a plan: suck off the jelly and hand the bread to the birds.

It all happened so fast. A tumbling crowd of brown and white and black feathers jockeyed for position at the fence. A chubby little fist nearly doubled in size, when you account for the layers of jelly, sand, and grass that accumulated on it. She gave up licking the jelly pretty quick, and just doled out PB&J to the chickens.

Um, fairly expensive PB&J, I might add. Those birds are living large!

I'm not actually sure if anyone ate anything. Well, not true. I sat and ate my sandwich, watching the chaos with a sense of resignation and amusement. Hmm, I probably should have stepped in.

But both the girls and the chickens really enjoyed the picnic. The jelly and dirt washed off of Elliot, mostly.

And now, after our very first picnic since November 4th, I have a more realistic view of what to expect. Next time, the picnic will not be chicken adjacent, and lunch will not be so sticky!

Mysterious Eggs

With a backyard full of laying hens and portly rabbits, we embraced this weekend's egg and bunny traditions.... admittedly with less organization than our Valentine's Love Bugs. Luckily, we learned a few things along the way.

1. Brown eggs can be successfully dyed. Though our well-fed birds are now producing giant eggs... apparently. None of them fit in the egg dipper and only 2 slipped into the shrinking plastic decorating thingys that came in the kit.


2. Kids 4 and under can search for 8 eggs and find 50, no questions asked. My own ongoing birthday celebrations distracted me from effective Bunny Prep (oooh the mommy guilt). Somehow, we could only find about 8 of the plastic eggs my mom had left for the girls... So I overfilled all 8 with Starburst jelly beans and hid them around the toys in the backyard.


I assuaged my guilt with the knowledge that jelly beans are always exciting and no one remembers details from toddlerhood... right?

Elle looked for the eggs in the most logical place... the nesting boxes!

Well, the mini-egg hunt lasted ten times longer than expected. Maya asked us to hold her basket (and therefore her eggs), so each time she trotted back with a new find, we stashed it to be found again later. Also, the grass in her basket was hiding a pile of plastic eggs, so I covertly filled and hid a few more mid-hunt.

She was still overjoyed by her pile of candy, so much so that she graciously shared some with us.

3. Fresh eggs sink. Perhaps everyone knew this already. Everyone but me. I know that fresh eggs are fine room temperature for up to a month, and in the fridge for three months, "or longer." Finally, though, I looked up how to safely judge whether an egg is okay (our eggs seem to be gaining on us).

As you all probably already know, if an egg lies flat on the bottom of a bowl full of water, it is very fresh. The more buoyant, the less fresh it is because the little air pocket expands as the proteins in the egg break down. If it floats... toss it.

Photo Friday

The girls let the ladies out. Hilarity ensued.

By now, it should be clear that photography isn't my strong suit. Perhaps from now on, Fridays will be Fowl Friday instead!


Also, after an entire winter of refusing to eat apples and nearly all veggies, Maya now begs to take apples outside for a snack... apparently fresh food tastes better in the sun. She's influenced Elliot, too. Little sister ate an entire apple... the poor disappointed chickens looked everywhere for the core!

Wide Open Spaces

In spite of the glacier that occupies half of our yard and the bitter cold swamp covering the rest of it, the girls spent this morning running like wild things.

They fed the chickens together for the first time (last fall, Elliot's balance was a little too precarious to risk it). Both the fowls and the fillies got much needed exercise, as the girls chased those poor birds up and down the run with handfuls of corn.

Elliot kept up with her sister step for step, swinging, climbing the ladder to the slide, horsing around in the sandbox... She cried when it was time to come in for lunch, yet she was so worn out by the excitement that she cheered when I tucked her in for her nap.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the camera with me when Elliot tipped off of her scooter toy, getting a face full of mud. Literally a face full. And she didn't even cry!

With no pictures from today to add, I'll simply relay the weekend's car trip. Miraculously, we survived eleven hours round trip with two girls who have both at one time or another cried for uninterrupted hours in the car (two is the record, thanks Elle). And not a tear was shed.

Photo Friday

Joe managed to coax the chickens outside, so they too are enjoying our warm up. They refuse to walk on the snow, so he had to shovel a path and lay down straw for them... Sheesh.... What pampered chickens.


It's amazing how warm 40 degrees feels after a week of -5! Even Elliot enjoyed the fresh air, though she still can't walk very well in her big boots.


Even on Photo Friday, I can't stick to a wordless post! :)