February Blizzard, 2013


Doodles in the Winter

I started calling them “Chickie Doodles,” then I just shortened it to “Doodles.” “Keith, have you let the Doodles in?” “I’m going to feed the Doodles.” Anyway, I looked out my home office window to this little scene.


Per the ever so scientific method of weighing oneself holding the box and then weighing oneself without the box and noting the difference, we have just stored 15.2 pounds of potatoes in our root cellar. I think that is exciting. When I first harvested them, I was disappointed. There didn’t seem to many. But now I recall that the seed potatoes we purchased didn’t even total 1 pound. That is quite a haul. Again, our biggest problem this year was that they went dry. Apparently my ingenious method of taking chicken wire, securing it into a short barrel with zip ties and planting potatoes in soil causes too much air circulation around the roots and they dry out quite a bit. We had a very dry summer, so that didn’t help. I’m going to try another way next year. Keith has some ideas.

So far, the Chieftains did the best, with the Russets pulling in close second. The Russian Banana Fingerling were sort of growing on the side of the house and I pulled the plant up and popped it in a planter, so that was the lowest yield, as we only started from one plant.

I will definitely grow both the Chieftains and the Russets next year.

I just had to Google “Storing Potatoes for the Winter” and so have them layered between newspaper in a cardboard box and laid up against, but not quite touching, the cement wall in the cooler part of the basement where no windows are facing. Hopefully they’ll stay cool and dry there and not cause any rot.


We decided to retire early tonight to watch The Dictator in bed. I said, “Not it” and so Keith had to go out to put the chickens away. I pulled out my phone to play a little Free Cell.

I got a text.

“I need help.”

I went outside to find Keith looking straight up. One of the Barred Rocks (my favorites) was on top of the coop. Everyone else was inside.

How is it that I somehow found MYSELF on top of a ladder in my pajamas trying to catch a chicken? I ask this in earnest because that is what happened.

She shied away from me and Keith was able to grab her from the other side. We almost high-fived.

We are a good team. Today, one of the Orpingtons had an 18inch long stream of flypaper stuck across ALL of her rear feathers. We had to catch her, not an easy feat, gently extract each feather and then she lay on her back in my lap while Keith got a cloth wet with hot water.

I was surprised she let me wipe each feather not to mention lay like that in my lap. We put her down and she ran for the ear of corn we put in the ground as bait-already being devoured by the others. We almost high-fived then too.

Both times, we realized we aren’t high-fivers and I just gave him a little pat on the ass. You know, that’s the equivalent of a “married-couple high five.” Look it up.


I just witnessed chicken rape. Jerry chased one of the Barred Rocks (a younger one) through most of the backyard, then had his way with her once he caught her. Kids, sex between a rooster and a hen is a natural thing, an act of love. When a mommy chicken and a daddy chicken…Oh who am I kidding? I need to go wash my eyeballs.


Jerry the Rooster

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2 Blonde Bitches

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I haven’t blogged in a while and have this feeling of guilt about it that I can’t shake. I can’t say I’ve been busy, really, I just have been focusing on other things.

The summer has flown by and we’re looking at Labor Day. What the hell? Instead of updating you, my gentle readers, on what I’ve done this summer, let me tell you what I haven’t done…

  • Weeded
  • Put a fence around the garden to prevent the bunnies from eating all my green beans

I loved those fresh green beans. Stupid bunnies. Or groundhog, or chickens, or whatever creature ate them to the nub. Curse you.

Chickens are having fun hanging out in the back yard. And the front yard. And the side yard. And in the neighbor’s yard. And the other neighbor’s yard. Sheesh. We’ll probably get a call next week from Betty’s Kitchen letting us know that the flock is in line for a diner seat. I have to admit, I really like owning chickens. They aren’t laying eggs yet. I don’t care. They are so funny. They put their heads really low to the ground when they run.  Hilarious. They make funny noises too. Jerry is the loudest. Not only does he crow, he just sort of mumbles a lot. He and the three blonde bitches (the Buff Orpingtons) are troublemakers and are always in the neighbor’s yard.

We expect eggs next month. I’m looking forward to recovering some of our investment. Now that there are 12, they go through a bale of pine shavings and a bag of feed (we use the organic stuff, so it’s more $) each week, plus about 3 pints of blueberries and 4 ears of corn. I think they ate all the bugs in the yard which is why they are going next door.

The garden is great (except for the green beans). Here’s what’s growing:

Potatoes: 3 varieties. We harvested the Yukon Gold and ate most of them with my Dad that very same day. Deelish!

Pumpkins

Golden Nugget Squash

Delicata Squash

Zucchini

Tons of herbs

Asparagus (first year, but hey, it’s alive!)

Tomatoes – 4 varieties

Cucumbers – will not quit

Watermelon – there are 2 and they are teensy. We hope to harvest before frost

Carrots – Yeah, I kind of went to town here. I planted a row each week of 6 varieties for 4 weeks. We have over 300 I would imagine

Parsnips

Beets

Kale (for the chickens, you KNOW we HATE Kale)

Red Onion

**

What’s GONE

We harvested 45 bulbs of garlic 3 weeks ago

The lettuce, arugula and spinach are done. I will be planting more next weekend for the Fall

Green Beans

 

Happy Labor Day.

 


I know I promised several posts, but this just happened…

 

Me: Babe, you look tired. Why don’t you go to bed and I’ll put the chickens away tonight.

Him (Already up and out of his chair): OK! Good night. (Kissing me good night). 

Here I sit. For the next and 1/2. By myself. Waiting to put chickens away. 

Me and my big mouth. 

 

 

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