My last post was October, 2013. I’m not sure if I used, “Work is too busy” as an excuse or subconsciously didn’t want to deal with DaisyPatch Farm because, well, Daisy was dead. Either way, I needed to make a decision.

DaisyPatchFarm.com was expiring and I had to make the crucial decision as to whether I should renew the domain or not. If I let it expire, I was fearful all these posts, meaning many of my memories, would be gone. Oh, I am sure they would have been at some random website extension and not lost forever, but I still worried.

Another part of me, however, wrestled with letting it go. DaisyMae is gone. This site reminds me of her. The little picture of her sniffing the daisies makes me weepy.

For 18 bucks, I decided to keep it. And put up a post. I hope to have many posts this year considering the Winter of 2014/2015 has created many homestead-improving opportunities including:

  • Our front garden fenceposts and fence are completely broken.
  • The greenhouse caved in
  • My beautiful Japanese Maple is completely buggered – it is split down the middle starting at the top (i.e. DEAD!) As it hold a place of prominence in the front garden, you know what that means…I am completely re-doing the front yard.
  • The white rose of sharon (Whitey the cat’s memorial plant) is demolished. (Also in the front yard)
  • We’re getting a new front porch (dammit, WE ARE GETTING A NEW FRONT PORCH IF IT IS THE LAST THING I DO!) which will have space for planter beds (Seems I’m into curb appeal this year)
  • I have discovered Pinterest, which led me to learn all sorts of DIY things including how to spray-paint outdoor pots
  • I changed our front door paint color last year to a cross between avocado and lime (Pinterest!). I loved it for about 1 month. Now, I realize I really don’t like green and it has to go.
  • I broke the shed door trying to open it whilst there was 5 feet of snow on the ground. Note to self – a door can’t move 5 feet of snow, you have to shovel. That sucked.
  • Lastly – we have to put up a fence around the property, separating the chickens from a dog area. With the addition of 2 new bullies to the family (Penelope and Woodrow), they just want to run and they like to chase the chickens, so that has to be dealt with. (Daisy was so awesome with that, she didn’t care about the chickens.)
  • Sigh…I want more veggies from the garden and I want to grow more corn this year
  • Siiiigh…I want more flowers. Many, many more flowers

So, there it is. Looks like I am blogging again. It feels good. Best $18 bucks I’ve spent in a while.


2 years ago, we tried a Golden Nugget pumpkin. We found it at McKinnon’s. It was delicious. Last year, we tried growing them. Every one was chewed by a backyard critter and inedible. This year, we decided we couldn’t wait any longer to build a fence around the backyard garden. It seems to be working – the proof is in the pictures.

To prepare:
Wash the pumpkin, cut in half lengthwise and scrape out seeds.

Sprinkle each cavity with a pinch salt, a pinch cinnamon, a sprinkle of brown sugar, and a pat of unsalted butter.

Arrange in a baking dish. Pour boiling water to a depth of 1 inch. Bake, covered, at 400°F for 45 minutes, or until tender.

20131005-094736.jpg


No one prepared me for the coop phenomenon that is, “Soft eggs.” Basically, the egg was laid before the shell hardened. The first time I found one, I was extremely grossed out. The second time, I found one, I was extremely grossed out. Actually, each time I found one, I was extremely grossed out.

Let me explain. It is like a little breast implant.

Let me explain that too. It is like a little breast implant, if I were to imagine what a breast implant would feel like. Kind of squishy but with a soft casing…Ok, you know what? Let’s stop there. Anyway, where were we before going to Dirty Town? Oh right. Soft eggs and grossed out.

Apparently, this phenomena can occur when the chicken is ill, doesn’t get enough calcium, or if you scare it.

Yes, you read that right. If you scare the shit out of the chicken, you might just scare the egg out of the chicken. That happened to me twice. I would open the nesting box after coming home later than expected and the chickens have gone to roost. I would see a movement. That would be the egg dropping from the roosted hen onto the coop floor. I put enough shavings down that both times, it has landed without breaking. Both times, in the light of the flashlight, I didn’t realize what happened. I just would see an egg and grab it to bring inside. And both times I was extremely grossed out. The first time, I put my fingers right through the shell. Cuz it is soft. Like a b…Nevermind. Anyway, ewww. The second time I picked it up intact and then had to make a decision about what to do with it.

I had done some research when I found the first one. Apparently, you can still eat it. So, I stood there, outside the coop holding the second munchkin implant, and had a small debate with myself.

Me: “Would I really eat this?”
Me: “It’s pretty skeevy.”
Me: “But it’s just an egg.”
Me: “I know, but, how? How would I eat it?”
Me: “I don’t know, I guess scramble it or something.”
Me: “Ok. Give it a try.”

I threw it as far in the woods as I could, gathered the rest of the eggs and went inside. (Yes. I called my own bluff.)

Side note:

We have been baking the scrap egg shells that are left over after cooking and grinding them into tiny bits with a mortar and pestle and putting them in a dish outside for the chickens. The calcium is supposed to help the chickens create stronger shells. They devour it ( which I think is totally weird) and we haven’t seen a soft egg recently, which is good, however, I do find myself pointing out women to Keith on a more frequent basis and asking, “Think those are real?”


We lost our little DaisyMae last month. It took me this long to get thru photos.

 

 

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Hanging in the sun

Hanging in the sun

2010-11-08 07.50.162010-11-12 07.11.152010-11-22 15.36.112010-11-24 17.56.322010-11-28 10.29.062010-11-28 10.30.18 HDR2010-12-15 20.07.512011-01-01 08.50.402011-01-18 08.47.432011-01-23 09.13.082011-02-02 10.35.042011-02-23 17.58.082011-02-28 13.55.522011-03-02 06.39.542011-03-15 07.30.192011-04-09 19.15.542011-04-22 22.41.072011-04-23 16.34.312011-05-16 15.05.452011-05-24 16.24.472011-06-24 16.18.49

 

 


We love that show-as much as you can love a reality show about murders. We just get hooked every time we see that it’s on.

So, if you are a fan of the show, here is The First 48-DaisyPatch version.

North Hampton, NH

For homestead detectives, the clock starts ticking the moment they are called. Their chance of solving the crime is cut in half if they don’t get a lead within the first 48 hours. It is North Hampton, NH. The owner of DaisyPatch farm returns home late at night and is shocked to discover one chicken hasn’t returned home. He had heard a noise earlier, but couldn’t figure out the sound. The chicken is presumed dead.

Time remaining: 48:00

The owner calls the chicken. There is no reply. He calls again, but still there is no reply.

Time remaining: 46:28

He goes into the house and texts his wife to break the news. She is out of town.

He calls the chicken again. Still, there is no reply. The other chickens in the gang are called in for questioning. He has no suspects.

Time remaining: 46:27

The rest of the chicken gang refuse to to answer any questions. The leads have all run dry. The owner will have to wait until morning to see if there are any clues.

Time remaining: 36:44

It’s the next morning. The chicken gang leave the coop and roam the neighborhood. The owner follows at a safe distance, hoping for clues. He isn’t able to find anything. Investigating the location he thought was the source of the noise, he does not uncover any leads.

Time remaining: 36:21

His wife just received the message and texts him back to see if there is any news. She wants to know which chicken has died. He texts her back that he doesn’t know. She will have to come home to identify the missing chicken.

Time remaining: 00:32

The owner’s wife has come home and has identified which chicken is missing. It was a no-name chicken with distinguishing white marks. They are most likely gang symbols.

Time remaining: 00:04

The clock winds down on the first 48. The chicken still has not returned. With no body or leads, he may never know what happened. The chicken gang now has 8 members. None of them will talk.

All suspects are innocent until proven guilty in a coop of law.


I have discovered the best way to get rid of weeds is to weed. Ageless words of wisdom right there.


shallots

These are the shallots

That almost got washed.

They were in my pocket.

I’m surprised they weren’t squashed.

Picking them was easy

When out tending the yard

Apparently remembering them later

Was the part that was hard.

They made it inside

and into the laundry pile

They made it downstairs

I think they were there for a while.

Gratefully, Keith

Doing laundry so well

Saved our clothes

From a horrific smell.

He fished them out

And brought them to safety

Into the kitchen

Where they try to look tasty.

You see they didn’t want

To be laundered or cleaned

They wanted to chopped

And sauteed or steamed.

Stirred into risotto

Or softened in butter

Anything, anything at all

Related to supper.

So heed the lesson

From this forgetful wench

Remember your shallots

And avoid the stench.

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