Spring Planting

Nine littles running around...

 Chickens and guineas snapping up bugs...

 Fresh eggs...

 Friends to help… The potatoes are all planted!  This year, Yukon Gold and Purple Viking.  The exact poundage is unknown, as we are planting sprouted potatoes left from last year.  I would estimate 80 pounds.

Potatoes are at YJ Acres this year, not Purgatory Ranch.  Our difficulty in keeping ahead of the weeds should be ameliorated by the closer location.

It was infinitely more enjoyable to plant with friends than alone, and it's far more compelling to get to work when friends are coming!  We're excited to have the drip tape out and the mainline repaired in preparation for future planting.  Next up is onions!

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Snow Days

I apologize for abandoning descriptions of our journeys to growing and raising more of our own food.  Life has been busy, and crazy, and at the same time, routine.

Early in the day, as snow accumulates.

Neighbors.  Guineas.  Problems.  Enough said.

We lost a rooster.  I still don't know why.

Our dog, Hope, still steals the food of our cat, Andromeda, at every chance she can.  Hope now howls when a particular train rolls past with its whistle tooting.  I could do without this quirk, thankyouverymuch.

During our unusually long and bitterly cold cold snaps, I struggled to keep water thawed and clean for the chickens.  We switched to hanging waterers with nipples, which has helped in all but the longest and coldest stretches.  Sometimes I still carry out hot water to pour in basins several times a day.  Tomorrow will likely be one of those days.

Kids and snow!

James is building a mini greenhouse and a meat chicken coop.  Pictures will eventually appear here on the blog!

There has too much illness and death in our extended families and acquaintances.  Perhaps it is our age or our awareness, but I feel a little as though are a collective Job!

God has been good to us.  We have avoided major illness in our immediate family.  We've ordered seeds for the summer garden, and plenty of new fruit bushes and plants to fill the insatiable hunger in our children for fruit.  We are at that time of year in which I will only buy a few fruits from the store as everything else is too expensive or disgusting.

Avalanche off the white whale.

It had been snowing all day.  We have over 6", and the snow is still falling.  Since we need moisture, we are praying for several more inches.  (At least I am.). Today is a snow day.  Tomorrow will be as well.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Chicken Trauma

Having a single flock of free-ranging birds (12 guinea fowl and 2 chickens) regularly establishes exactly why we DON'T free range our egg-laying flock.

Tuesday night, James raced into the house with a seemingly incoherent account of birds, dogs, and missing ears.  I asked him to be quiet as the baby was asleep, not really registering his actual words, and he said,  "She's missing.  I need you outside right now."

J&J's bird dog had escaped her leash.  Again.  Another neighbor's son, seeing the dog headed for our yard, tried to get his dog to distract the dog.  Even in writing that sounds like a bad plan, and it was even worse in reality.  Their dog, Sophie, is loathed and despised by Hope.  J&J's dog and Sophie went after our guinea flock.  James saw one bird at least potentially dismembered, then Hope went after Sophie and tore off part of her ear (and, might I confess, later went back to the field of battle and ate said missing ear after we couldn't find it?).  James traversed the neighborhood in search of the neighbor's errant bird dog.

And that, my friends, was the beginning of a two hour search for my birds.  I was initially able to locate 11 guineas, no chickens.  All appeared to be uninjured.  After another 15 or so minutes, I found Darkest Winter, our gimpy chicken, hiding behind the barn.  She was uninjured.  After another 20-30 minutes, I found 12 guineas huddled on the neighbor's roof.  No Stew.

Stew's feathers littered our yard like a rained out TP party.  Searching, searching, searching with a sick feeling in my stomach.  I really didn't want to find a bird bloodied and needing to be euthanized, nor did I really want to find a dead bird.  Finding a live, healthy chicken seemed to be an impossibility.

James eventually came back and joined the search.  He invited neighbor boys with a bribe of money to help.

Still, given my record at finding things, I finally found Stew.  Alive.  Unbloodied.  Missing a lot of feathers, but otherwise okay.  She had hidden herself in a clump of decorative grasses and looked like an old weathered log.

She cursed us roundly for cooping her up, but she needed to be monitored for a few days.  We did add bedding and food to the dog crate.  She didn't move for almost 24 hours, but this morning was up and at 'em when I took the kids to school, so I released her back to her flock.

Poor girl.  James is right.  Is this poor chicken lucky to have survived or unlucky to get picked on so much?

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

P.S.  She had finally started to lay eggs again.  I'm thinking she'll have stopped again for quite a while.

December 1

Thanksgiving was late this year and Advent early, so the Saturday after Thanksgiving we ran out for our Christmas tree.  Since it's a fairly local tree farm, we could it pick it out and still be home in less than two hours.

Our Advent custom is to hang our Jesse tree ornaments on our actual Christmas tree.  While others use a stick or branch, we decided this is the best way to incorporate our Advent traditions into Christmas.  So the tree is bare... lights, since they have to go on first, one Jesse tree ornament, and an ornament for each child to hang.  Tomorrow, another few will be added.

 We decorate the house in the same manner... slowly, deliberately, and as a crescendo that will reach its high point Christmas eve with a fully decorated tree and everything ready for Christmas.  Even our Nativity scene comes out piece by piece, starting with Mary, Joseph, and the donkey.

This gives me a chance to clean as we go and gives my husband a little closer to his childhood tradition of Christmas being out all Advent.  In my family, the tree was decorated Christmas eve and not before.

After a few weeks of unseasonably frigid November weather, it's nice for December to start out pleasantly:

 The end of the week will be more chilly weather, but this gives me time to make further preparations for the cold, as one of our roosters suffered minor frostbite on the tips of his comb one of the last "under 20" days.

 The guineas are still busy finding bugs and seeds to eat, as they aren't interested in their feed (which is just fine with me!  It was attracting mice to their coop.)

Happy Advent!

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Tour

 In between the rain storms (3+" in the last few days), I stopped to admire my view during my circuit of chicken chores...

The garlic bulbs have poked little green stems through the soil.  I had almost forgotten this were here.  It's nice to know I didn't kill them.

 The garden is a weedy, flat place after most of the trellises have been removed.  I have one row left of tomato vines to pile up, and two rows of fence.  Then, fire will take what it will.

 The asparagus is beginning to die back.  I may harvest a few seeds this fall to attempt asparagus seedling next year.  I may.  I may not.

 Hoses have been pulled up.  Most are coiled neatly for next year, but a few, pulled out in the middle of harvesting, still need some care and attention.  Once they dry (ah, I love the rain!), I will store them for next year.  I didn't realize how many hoses we had accumulated.  I suppose that happens when the movers put them in three different places last summer when we moved, and we bought more after most of the hoses were laid out.

 Our guineas and exiled (freed?) chickens are enjoying an afternoon meal outside the Love Shack.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

YJ Acres Updates

Fowl pox is clearing up nicely.  There have been no deaths.  Some chickens have thus far been unaffected, so I understand we have a reoccurrence/continuance of the unpleasantness.  Appetites seem good, as does general health.

This poor hen has had two neck injuries from fights.  They heal up, but it does leave her with a strange neck.

 Andromeda and the chickens aren't sure what to do with one another.

The guinea flock has remained stable since the fox attacks.  The babies have grown so much that, at first glance, they are indistinguishable from the adults.  Their faces don't yet have the "painted" look, but I can see it developing.

Behind them, the orchard is doing well.

 I am slowly redeeming the strawberry patch.  There is a distinct emphasis on the word "slowly."

 We're having the obligatory fall "odd" weather.  The wind, clouds, and animals all indicate that mischief may be afoot!

I'll leave you with our happy Hope!  She loves to bark at school buses, coyotes, foxes, and neighborhood dogs.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

More Bird Woes

Oh, chickens, must we be so challenging?

Meet Stew.  I named her Stew as she was, under initial observation, a pest.  She has been the runt of every chicken flock we introduced her to, so much so that she was constantly bloody and half the size of the other chickens.  She came to us in bad condition, and we had not succeeded in making her life more pleasant.  Out of a desire to give her a decent life (and since she doesn't lay eggs, probably due to malnourishment), we decided to throw her in with the guinea fowl and allow her to free range.

Oh, the peace.  She can be a bit aggressive with our guinea "teens," but not a single guinea attacks her.  She's eating pounds of food, enjoying exploring, and her condition is improving.

We recently added a chicken friend to the guinea run.  This is Darkest Winter (long story).  She broke her leg during a coop move thanks to our aggressive chickens (we're a work in progress here, people).  In order to protect her from attacks, we moved her into the run attached to the guinea coop.  Since it was unused except for when we had to be absent from home, she could rest quietly, access food and water, and not be harassed.

She's much spunkier than when we first moved her in, as you can see from her being on her feet.  Maybe we should have splinted her leg, but my research showed people to be ambivalent on this task, and she was already quite distressed.  Splinting might have killed her.

I am hopeful that Darkest Winter will heal and return to the coop.  If not, she may stay with the guineas.  Only time will tell.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Free-Range Flock

For the first time, I caught our keets, Big Red, and the adult guineas traveling as a flock.  It must have been the day spent in captivity yesterday, when I had no adult to help with cooping up, so they were left in a fenced yard.  It's a good thing we do that rarely, as they hated it.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

August 9

August 9 was a bad day here at YJ Acres.  It was James' first day back at school, so I was home alone with the kids and animals.

Around lunch, I went out to check on said animals, only to hear the guinea keets' characteristic "lost" cry.  Upon finding all the babies in a tree and no mama hen (Big Red near by), I began counting... and counted again... and again.  We were missing a baby and a mama.

I went to check the chicken's water and, upon opening the door, discovered two dead chickens.  Oh, did I mention that the Assistant was with me?  Yeah, welcome to farm life!

The Assistant and I fixed up the dog crate and patiently ushered in the lost babies.  After all, wouldn't repeated cries of "lost" call all the predators in the area?  We gave them food and water and settled them near the chicken tractor for company.

I sent James a message asking him to call.  After all, should I leave the chickens?  Bury them?  I didn't want to pull them out and have the dog eat the corpses.  The end result: James sent over a neighbor, who looked at the tracks I had found and declared them to be from a fox.  He helped me bag up the chickens and secure them in the barn until they could be used as fox bait.  Later, I found the hole torn in the chicken wire where the fox had gained entrance and vowed to be more proactive in closing the door to the coop at night.  We had been lax in our security, leaving the coop door open to the enclosed yard.  No more.

Then, coming out the front door, I discovered Big Red, missing half her feathers.  We followed her for a while, making sure she wouldn't run away from the yard, and finally released her babies to her.  They reunited happily.

For the rest of the day, I could not help but go outside frequently, paranoid that another bird would die if I stayed in for too long.

That night, James and Neighbor P set a live trap for the fox, complete with chicken corpses.  James also picked up four bedraggled hens from a too-crowded coop and replenished our flock.  (It is too bad that two of the hens, both grey, are meaner than the day is long.  They might become stew.)

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Weekly Rundown

The Bradford pear that sustained so much damage previously lost another 2/3 of the remaining... so James will be cutting the entire tree down tomorrow.  It will be replaced with either a fruiting tree or a maple.  Something that doesn't stink in the spring, preferably.

We've had 19.8" of rain since July 14.  Just shy of the 20" mark, which is insanely wonderful!

 Ah, the troubles of our chickens... Another keet gone.  Two chickens slaughtered by a fox.  Four new chickens (given to us by an acquaintance with too many).  Maybe we'll have eggs soon, maybe not!  A live trap is now baited for the fox, who had been left alone until (s)he began preying on our animals in broad daylight.

 Almost-all homegrown pico de gallo, a request by my lovely husband.  Next year, if I remember to plant cilantro, it will be all homegrown but the lime juice!

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

From July 13 through August 2, we have had 16.1" of rain.  That's a lot of rain.  Rain for which we are grateful, as there is nothing like drought to make you appreciate a downpour.

With rain predicted in the next three days, James and I are a little worried our pond might leap the bounds of concrete stones and spill into the yard and drainage ditches.  The roads have also been exciting, with a significant amount of gravel from our driveway and road ending up in the neighbor's field.  The access road to our neighborhood becomes the crossway for a stream, and, baby, this stream is wide.  Hydroplaning is always a breathless endeavor.

The keets and Big Red aren't sure what to make of the mess, but they are growing apace.

We lost a significant portion of a Bradford pear in the high winds of a 4" downpour.  Fortunately, most of the debris is cleaned up, and none of it hit the house.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Stocking Up for Winter

51 bales of straw.  The jury is still out on whether or not that will be enough bedding!

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Babies on the Acres

A few weeks ago, we had an incident in which our guinea fowl wandered into a neighbor's yard.  Said neighbor and children were worried that our guineas didn't belong out, so they commenced a three hour hunt.  One guinea was too clever to be caught, but the result was a very traumatized, skittish, and otherwise not-flock-friendly bird.  We called him PT (for post-traumatic stress).  We considered catching and butchering him but thought maybe, given time, he would recover.

'Twas never to be.   He was most likely a victim of another hawk strike.

The day after PT vanished, we found an add on Craigslist for guineas, all sizes and many colors.  James and two kids went to pick out a new flock.  I was surprised to meet the new flock... complete with a mama hen, Big Red, who will mother her ten adopted babies.  This is a much easier way than heat lamps and cold spring weather!  Eight are striped and two are white.

We hope for a longer life span for this babies!

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Death of a Guinea Fowl

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

New Digs

 I usually check our chicks and guinea fowl twice a day.  In the last few days, however, I have checked on the guineas more frequently as they have been incessantly dumping their water, thereby making themselves waterless and their bedding damp and musty.

After discussing the issue with James, he decided we had to correct the situation... immediately.  It would be cruel to leave them longer in a tub they had clearly outgrown.  The search was on.  Our future home for them, outdoors, is not repaired to a relatively critter-proof status, and even temporary adjustments were labor and time consuming.

A brief search on the internet and calling to local stores convinced us a ready-made chicken coop was far to expensive to be a solution until... I kept looking at the search options under coop.  I found an exercise pen for a 1/3 of the price of a coop, and it would be reusable after proper sanitation.

After a few more phone calls, we headed to Tractor Supply.  Although by far not our favorite store for supplies, it was the only store to carry what we needed.

Fortunately, it was preassembled (it's just 8 panels, one with a door), and I was in business.  The cardboard is to save the bulk of the fertilizer-in-waiting (guinea poop) from being wasted by hardening into cement on the garage floor.  We have bedding material in the box, and I have since added some to the pen.

Just at sunset, we introduced the five guineas to their new home.

Were this to have a caption, I think it would be full of "oh my's" or more choice language!

"At least the food is the same, right?"

Morning, and the guineas were comfortable in their new digs.

 Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.