Kentucky

Our favorite chicken, our americauna, was killed the other night by a raccoon after we left the coop door open. We were heartbroken and felt stupid and careless. Kentucky was always the most curious of our three chickens, climbing on structures to see views and wandering into the kitchen to see what was cooking. She and our Rhode Island Red came all the way into the house the other day when the side door was open and while I was upstairs. I heard a weird clacking noise downstairs and came down to see them pecking at the cat food. When I tried to usher them out, they decided to head into the living room instead. There was some scratching and scurrying and fluttering of wings before they were captured and booted out the door.

Poor little Kentucky. She was a great chicken with delicious dark brown eggs. She was never broody, and she wasn't loud or domineering. We miss her.

Johnny Appleseed: verb

This year, we are being very casual about our garden. We have a lot of landscaping that we want to do: add a back door off of the kitchen and onto a deck, where there will be a table, chairs, grill, and potted plants; move the chicken coop to the side yard and make a home for ducks as well, including building some sort of water-efficient pond that at least uses rain water and at best also utilizes some of the grey water from our house; getting rid of the grass in our front yard and adding flowering shrubs, edible plants, etc. to feed us and the bees, butterflies, birds and other beneficial little creatures.

So this year, one of our favorite words is "johnny appleseed," used as a verb, such as: "I johnny appleseeded cosmos in the front bed" or "I am going to johnny appleseed cucumber in the garden." Definition: throw seeds in a careless manner wherever you hope that that particular plant appears. So, I am curious about how stuff will turn out.

For one, apart from some cosmos, sunflower, bachelor buttons, and poppies, we haven't bought any seeds. They've been gifted to us or dug up from our old collection. Also, the sheet mulching of one of our gardens is still in progress. For months, since last November probably, I've been throwing newspaper out on that area and then covering it with used straw from the chicken coop. Thus the garden you see above. I made a pathway with cardboard, and planted kale and beans. Then I johnny appleseeded  cucumber and pumpkin seeds on the right. Brian has tomato starts going, and I have no idea what they are: probably all heirlooms left over from last year. Those are in his plastic hot house that he rigged up.

We also have a few pepper plants that will be in containers this year. Brian also built a few planter boxes along the back fence, and those have green beans, peas, and mesclun seeds. One is still empty. I might plant beets in there or stagger some green beans. I love fresh beans.

And of course, I'm staggering the planting of sunflowers, nasturtiums, and cosmos. And I could resist buying some lavender plants.

One of my sunflowers makes a small start to glory.

I'll be happy with whatever comes up as we continue landscaping and really transforming the yard into a sanctuary for a myriad of creatures, big and small, including ourselves. In the meanwhile, it will be fun to see what happens with what we've johnny appleseeded: Will the pumpkins thrive? Will the kale come up?

I have herbs, but for the most part, those are all living in containers until the back deck and door are built and we've designed an herb garden somewhere in sunlight and simultaneously as close the the kitchen door as possible. But currently, I've got thyme, Italian parsley, oregano, marjoram, chives (the blossoms of which are peppery, spicy, and delicious), and rosemary (which I did plant because it will grow into a large shrub).

Oh, and apologies to the late Mr. Appleseed.

Clipping chickens wings

Or, why did the chickens cross the road?

So, the other day, on the way home from my run, what do I see, but three little chickens crossing the road. First goes the curious one. Then goes the old lady. Then goes little sister, who follows wherever the other two may go. And I decided, while cars stopped to let my chickens cross, that I was going  to clip their wings.

And we did.

I used to think that it was this painful operation that involved breaking the bones in their wings, but with a simple snip snip of some feathers, they lose their ability to fly over the fence or fly into your garden. For me, I find this the  more humane choice, because I can give them free reign in their area of the yard without worrying about them destroying my pea shoots or whatever other little tasty morsels might await in my garden. Let alone getting squashed by a car on their way over to the neighbor's greener grass.

Here's a great tutorial.

I can't find the hilarious tutorial. There's one out there where they show the chicken reacting, and while she certainly does not look like she's in pain, she does look a bit like someone just shat in her cereal. If you find it, please post it in the comments!

Tend: how to keep those eggs clean

So, I've been thinking about eggs and how to keep them clean. Especially since my fiance and I got knocked down from a slightly undercooked frittata last August. Paranoia over eating our chickens' eggs, as well as an aversion to eggs in general, followed. I am over that now--although, still a bit shy of frittatas--, but I've done some thinking about whether tis better to clean eggs or not.

Some people bleach their eggs. Some people wash them in warm water. Some in cold. But the sources that I saw on keeping chickens and collecting eggs usually suggest that you do not wash the eggs. The shell has natural properties that help keep bacteria from seeping in and getting to the egg. If you wash the shell, you risk destroying that natural barrier and risk weakening the egg's defenses to stay fresh and bacteria-free. If you find an especially shitty egg that really needs a bath, wash it and eat it right away. Otherwise, here's what I suggest:

Keep the nest clean! My chickens roost above where they nest, so they make it messy rather quickly. While they like to keep the actual egg-laying area fairly clean, they are still rather dirty birdies. As often as possible (at least twice a week), rake the old straw or hay out of the nesting area and replace it entirely. Then, throughout the rest of the week, put a layer of clean straw on top of the older straw. This will help keep those eggs clean. You will be able to give the eggs a swipe with a dry paper towel or with your thumb nail, but otherwise, for the most part, they should be okay.

Also, and this might sound overly obvious, but if you can collect the eggs daily, you can keep them cleaner. Sometimes we miss a day. We go to work and then to class, get home late in the rain and dark, or we leave town for a night or two. Those eggs get dirty. So collecting eggs when they are fresh helps with cleanliness.

And remember, they won't be perfect. You should always make sure that they are cooked thoroughly. If you are really worried about it, you could wash them before you cook them, but I would advise that you do not wash them before you store them.

Tend

Underneath the St. John's Bridge: Cathedral Park

Spring is on its way. The cherry blossoms have been in bloom now for a couple of weeks, we've received several dozen eggs from our chickens, and the bees have been busy collecting pollen. I am hoping to harvest honey next weekend. Today it was sunny, warm and spring-like after one of our colder weeks of the winter, including some snow.

Our baby trees in the snow

Friends of Trees gifted us with two new baby trees on our street-side lawn. We chose a red-bud tree, one of my favorites from living in Ithaca, NY, and a semi-dwarf janigold apple! We plan to return the favor by volunteering as tree inspectors this summer, strolling our neighborhood and checking on the health of the trees that they planted.

Speaking of trees, I am getting more and more excited by the little tree in our backyard. It has waxy green leaves and is not much to look at in the summer, but the buds on the tree are filling me with the hope that it's a tulip magnolia! If so, I will plan my yard around it, including moving our chicken coop so that it can grow and thrive. I'm not doing much with our yard this year, although I am prepping one of our first gardens and hope to plant some beets, beans, and maybe a few other rather simple veggies there.

Lucky Beans

Leno, our white cat, has been a challenge for us this winter. His teeth have been plaguing him, so in order to make sure that he eats, we need to make him smoothies: water and dry food, sometimes with a touch of canned food. He also needs to spend the majority of time outside as he's taken a shining to spraying in very inconvenient places (but really, is cat spray ever convenient?). He seems to prefer living outside when the weather's nice, but this week, with the cold weather, we had to make a nest in the downstairs bathroom for him. He seems to be okay with a warm place to curl up, a wee bit of affection, and a reliable soft meal. We've jokingly changed his name, thinking that maybe we cursed him by naming him after a song that goes, "Poor Leno," so now we call him Lucky Beans.

Elijah in a sunny spot on the stairs

Tend

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Today's warm and sunny. Not only are we Portlanders going mad with glee, but the bees are happy as well. We had to move the hive in October, which was a bit of an adventure. After nightfall, we closed off their entrances using tape, being careful that none of the sticky side was facing them. Then we lifted the hive, put it in the back of our friend's truck, and slowly drove the four miles to our new house. We lifted the hive out of the truck, positioned the hive in its new spot, and hoped they were okay. And while I never really was too worried about them, today they were out and about, coming home with full pollen baskets, their back legs plump with yellow pollen! This means that they are finding sources of pollen and adjusting well to their new location!

I really like the spot that we've decided to place the bees. It's in the back corner of our yard, under a cedar tree. I can sit on the back fence and watch them from one side, and I can also easily access their viewing window. And, from my kitchen window I can see both bee hive and chicken coop.

Speaking of the ladies, they love the new house. Since there's not yet a garden for them to terrorize, they get to go out and play whenever we are home to let them out.

Portland Composts

So, the entire city of Portland is rethinking trash. Or at least, I am. For the past month, Portland residents have only had their trash picked up twice. We all have rather small trash containers that are now only picked up every other week, and in exchange, our yard and food scraps are picked up every week. So now, all food scraps, including meat, go into the yard debris bin and are taken to a facility and composted. Our recycling is still picked up weekly as well.

I didn't initially think this new program would be a challenge; but sometimes it's really difficult. Especially when you've just moved. Or when you're hosting a party of some sort. Or just when your trash is full three days after they've picked it up, and you realize you can pay money to leave it at the dump or cut down on what you throw away indefinitely.

Ideologically and financially, I prefer the latter. So I literally find myself looking around and thinking of ways to reduce my waste, to buy compostable items instead of disposable, and to attempt to recycle more. I already did all of those things before, so it's actually a bit of a stretch of the imagination. However, it's exciting to think that other households are facing the same challenges.

Here's what I find myself doing: intentionally buying compostable paper plates if I'm having a larger party over; intentionally putting all scraps of food into the compost, emptying my vacuum bag and dustpan into the compost, feeding vegetable scraps to my chickens, putting meat scraps in the fridge until they're ready for the compost. Anyone else have other tips?

honey man

This summer has been one intense adventure after another, from camping by a glacial stream under Mt. Hood with amazing people and music to an epic trip around the country via Phoenix, Austin, Atlanta, Chesapeake City (the apex of the trip--my beautiful sister's wedding), Carlisle, Erie, the St. Croix River, Minneapolis, Mt. Rushmore, Crazy Horse, Devil's Tower, Montana, Spokane, and then home again; but only briefly, because then we were off to the coast for four days of sunshine, spectacular views, pelicans, cormorants, sea gulls, starfish, sand, surfing, friends, and sunsets (more on this adventure to come), and then a weekend on our friend's boat on the great Columbia River, camping on Government Island--a state park that is only accessible via boat--and soaking in the rare Oregon sun (soaking in a bit too much in my case on Sunday) and again enjoying spectacular views of Mt. Hood.

It's been a summer of travel, of reconnecting with old friends and family, of renewed love, of falling in love with the mountains and the water, of building dreams and setting solid goals--and of course, a summer filled with my garden and reading.

When I got home from the trip, my garden seemed brilliant to my eyes. My friends who watched over it for me had tied up my tomatoes and everything looked lush and spectacular. Still no ripe tomatoes, but I heard yesterday that we have not yet had one day over 90 degrees yet this summer and only seven days in the 80s. Still, my garden grows: for lunch we had a salad of greens, beets, carrots, berries, and cucumber all from the garden, with a tarragon dressing. My herb spiral is lush with mint, oregano, sage, thyme, calendula, and Chinese hyssop. My peppers have many little buds and flowers on them. My tomatoes are green and growing. My artichoke is tall and ripening its 3rd artichoke heart; the sunflowers started blooming today.

The chickens are healthy, although baby has a bald spot from being pecked by the older witches. Poor baby. Still, they get by and we continue to eat eggs from our own backyard. The bees seem healthy and they certainly seem happy in my backyard with the lavender, vegetable and herb blossoms, and blackberry bramble that my neighbor lets grow wild in his untended backyard. However, there is an ant colony that wants to live with the bees, and we are working to fight that off.

The honey man, Allen, came by yesterday. He comes by door-to-door in the summer, carrying plastic bags filled with a delicious amber honey that he sells for about $12. We bought honey from him the first time we met him (before we had our own), and since then, we've often talked to him about beekeeping. He's an odd fellow, always overdressed and looking over heated. He seems far more at ease discussing bees when Brian is around; perhaps Brian is better at putting him at ease. The honey man understands and keeps Langstroth hives, so he's always curious about our top-bar hive. Yesterday, we showed him the hive, and this is when we discovered the ant issue. We wiped away the ants and promised to look inside of the hive today. Then, we gave the honey man a spoonful of our bees' honey, and he thought it was "really, really good." So good that we traded with him for a jar of his. This was high praise coming from the honey man.

Today, Brian and I opened the hive, brushing away ants and just nosing around. It looked as though the bees were doing all right and managing to keep the ants out of their beeswax. We're going to keep on peeking an try to keep that colony away from and off of the hive.

And then there were 3

On Monday, our little Rhode Island red laid her first little egg. The darker one is from the Americauna, the big one in the front is from the Speckled Sussex, and the little dirty one is from the Red. Since, she has laid four eggs, living up to her breed's reputation. Our other chickens had a much slower start at laying; her breed has laid as many as 365 eggs per year. Here's our little girl, all grown up.

 Thinking about her eggs and her struggle to fit in with the other chickens makes me miss our little black autralorp. Red had a tough go at it with Sussex and Americauna; I spent their first evening all together in the coop with them, trying to break up violent and excessive pecking. Red decided that she wanted to roost on my head, and it took over a week before she was allowed to sleep in the hen house with them. She still gets an occasional peck, but oddly, she seems to be more respected now that she is laying eggs. There appears to be a more peaceful acceptance amongst the flock.

Here she is taking a dirt bath. Chickens love and need to take dirt baths to prevent lice, mites, and other parasites from setting in. We let our chickens "bathe" every other day or so. That seems to be the only time they need a bath; sometimes I'll let her into her dirt bath area and she won't bathe but rather she'll munch on the comfrey leaves and peck out the ground.

My garden is growing despite our cold spring. The salmon berry bushes are taking over and will need some serious pruning after the first crop of berries is done. The sage, thyme, oregano, and mint are getting huge.

I'm quite proud of my foxgloves that I grew from seed. They are so tall. The hollyhocks are also getting rather huge and covered in buds. I've been grading and grading and grading, but school's out for summer. So now I need to spend some heavy duty time in the garden, weeding, pruning, staking, harvesting. We harvested two of our first ripe strawberries two days ago. I planted some beet seeds last week and want to plant the rest and some more beans and beets to stagger the crops.

I also plan on doing some self-indulging, errand running, party planning, trip planning, and wedding planning. I have a work meeting  and a knitting lesson (my second one! Here's my first planned project. By the way, this blog is adorable) on Tuesday, a message and haircut and book club on Wednesday, Brian's thirtieth birthday on Friday, and my sister's wedding on July 9! Whew! Adventures galore!

We put some of my photos in Brian's honeycomb frames in the living room. They look pretty rad. I would also like to alternate some with cool textiles or paints or collage. There are so many fun options.

Sunday morning

As I sat down to blog, I witnessed Elijah-kitty, aka slut kitty, get a nice ear rub from some passers-by. Then, a lovely little toddler toddled up my driveway, followed by one of my best friends, her toddler son, and her sister, come to visit the farm.

We fed the chickens seeds and both of the little ones were fearless about letting these dinosaur-esque creatures peck from their hands. Then, after a few minutes of chickens, the boy said, "Bees!" and they made their way over to the bee hive, opening the observation window and staring joyfully at the spider and ants living outside of the hive and the thousands of bees living inside.

As they got ready to leave, my friend said to her son, "Looks like everything's going well on the farm," and I had this moment where I saw my home from the vantage point of these children and remembered when I was a child, going to visit my uncle's dairy farm, chasing barn cats, searching for kittens, and gawking at the calves, and I felt as though my home, that Brian and I have created together, was providing some of that wonder and joy to these children. So I responded, with more meaning than they knew, "Yes, everything's going well on the farm. Thank you for visiting."

R.I.P. Migas2

Our black australorp was brutally killed by a racoon early Friday morning. She was my new favorite, docile and gentle with black feathers that were teal in the sunlight. I was really looking forward to seeing her as a fat, feathered hen, and we were anticipating many delicious eggs from her. Now she is no more, and our little Rhode Island Red is all alone, trying to survive against two bitchy hens who seem like they would gladly peck her to death.

While we don't name our chickens in life, this one has been named in death Migas2, after my neighbor's black australorp who was murdered by the neighbor's dog two years ago. I remember her being a dazzling chicken in the sunlight, and I chose this little bird in anticipation of seeing another chicken like the original Migas. Sadly, neither chicken lived for long.

First Honey Harvest!

Today, I went outside to find an active hive, hundreds of bees on missions, returning with pollen baskets full of orange pollen. So I spent some time reading about swarm cells, mites, hive management, and so forth, and then I decided I had to go into the messy, messy hive with horribly crooked comb. I knew it wouldn't be pretty, and it wasn't.

The comb was not, as I knew, built along the top bars. Here's a summary of what happened: I went to a class and was told that the first year, you leave the hive alone. There's no management. You may harvest some honey in September. This was not great advice. My bees went renegade, and I made the executive decision, late summer, that it was too late to fix the situation. I would leave them alone until spring.

Well, when I saw them returning home with such a bounty of pollen, I decided that today was spring, and I went in, armed with a chicken tail feather, a bread knife, my bee suit, a large bowl, and a bucket. I started removing bars, brushing away bees with the feather, and cutting out comb; it was all honey and nectar or bare comb. I worked until they were in an absolute tizzy. I don't know how many times I got stung. I noticed that I don't really feel stings until later. I believe maybe three times, as I noticed something on the back of my left calf and on my left arm near the elbow and maybe one other spot. I'm not done. There's still crooked comb, but they were having a conniption, poor girls. I had to relieve them. Today, I didn't use any smoke, but next time, I believe I will have to. Especially since I believe that it would be better if I went in and finished the job tomorrow.

In the meanwhile, I have honey to process and comb to melt into wax. I removed as many bees as I could from the honey. After harvesting comb, a few fly back onto the combs. I really did my best to brush as many off as possible. I might try to melt the wax tonight. I read something about doing it in water and that it would float. Need to read up a bit more. I will be sure to take photos and blog about the processes as I figure them out and try them. So excited to have honey.

 A big day for the chickens as well. The hens went into their dome and clucked away, and I took the little halflings and put them into the outdoor coop. It was the longest they've been outside. I'm not sure how big of a deal scent is with chickens, but the shared territory might be of service later when I have to introduce the younger two to the big mammas. Eventually, I moved them back (babies to basement and hens to coop) because the americauna started squawking like she wanted to lay an egg.

I think I'd like to plant some peas and maybe some kale tomorrow as well as continue the beekeeping mission. Camillas, crocus, and daffodils have all been in bloom for a couple of weeks. Dandelions also starting to appear.

A winter in images

I'm sitting here drinking an amazing chocolate porter that tastes like coffee initially until the chocolate finish that Brian and Kris brewed a few weeks ago, reminiscing while I look at photos long overdue for my blog. So here are some highlights and summaries.

We had an amazing weekend of friendship, dancing, rain, hot-tubbing, and feasting for my birthday in mid-January at Arch Cape.

In February, we harvested our Plymouth barred rock. Rather the bully of the bunch, the alpha-hen, we decided we would live up to our word and harvest and feast on our first chicken.

Brian was really good at the slaughter, very calm and fast and sure. We did make some rookie mistakes, however. For one, we cut off the feet right away, a huge mistake as you want to tie the bird up and let it hang and rest for as long as a day. Then, even more careless, we buried the feet with the head. I would've liked to have used the feet to make broth.

I used my Riverside cookbook, and we slowly roasted the bird in white wine, water, fresh herbs, and vegetables. The book's directions were also helpful in the actual butchering of the meat. The meat tasted fresh and a bit like turkey, perhaps because it was roasted. It was more tender than I expected, and the flavor was strong, delicious. We had friends over and played music and drank delicious wines from Spain and Italy.

We also bought, on the same day, two new chicks; the one on the left is a black austrolorpe, a record layer, and the one on the right is also known for its egg-laying, a Rhode Island Red. Unlike last year, these chicks live in our basement.

In the past two days (including today), we've gotten four eggs! Which means that the Speckled Sussex and the Americauna are both now laying. The Sussex has been laying sporadically for a month or so now, but to get four eggs in two days is a lot for us! Crepes! Cookies! Scrambles! Frittatas! Quiche!

Renegades and Rebels

Here's a photo of a renegade rosebush that's sprouted in our front yard. I want to tear up the the grass that's growing around it and plant columbine, hollyhocks, foxglove, cosmos, marigolds, and nasturtium.

My salmonberries seem to have all survived their move from last July and the winter. They all have leaves and a few buds on them. My strawberries that I brought with us from the old house on NE 18th are also doing well, and I found this bugger munching on them when I went outside with my camera. He was sentenced to death.

I celebrated yesterday's new moon by transplanting my tomatoes into homemade newspaper containers, and now my shelves are crammed with seedlings, large and small. I have brandywine, orange-flesh purple smudge, Amish paste, Willamette, and Oregon spring tomatoes in addition to peppers, kale, endives, chives, thyme, sage, lavender, oregano, hollyhocks, foxglove, and more.

The plotting and planning and thinking and constructing of the hive continues. In the meanwhile, I need to buy my veil and hat, gloves, honey, and beeswax in preparation for a delivery slated for April 8. Spring seems to be whirling by already, and it hasn't even officially started. The cherry blossoms are almost done. I discovered this blog, Norm's Bees Naturally, and he does some top-bar beekeeping. I haven't had a chance to really dive into it yet, but I'm excited to find this resource. He references another blog worth exploring, Guerrilla Gardening. I have mixed emotions about guerrilla gardening, but for the most part, I believe I'm in favor as long as it's done with respect and with understanding.

I haven't been able to do a whole lot of reading for myself of late. Tonight, after I make this for dinner, I am going to be reading junior lit. commentaries. But here's some of the books I've been dipping my toes into:

Spring break is before me, and I will be re-reading The Bean Trees for school (planning to teach it), diving into Harlem Renaissance literature, and hopefully reading more about bees, animals, vegetables, fungus, and dirt.

I'm proud of how far I've come though. Last year, I thought the green leaves in this picture were just invasive, huge weeds.

I now know that it's comfry, a plant that's deep roots suck nutrients up from deeper layers of untouched soil, making great compost and compost tea. (Elijah, el gatto in the picture, is right now curled up on my lap).

Here are the ugly teenagers:

One day I'll get a picture that does justice to their hugeness. They are not the little fluff balls they were a month ago, that's for sure.

The grape hyacinths are out and everywhere: