Purgatory Ranch Update

As you may or may not know, we own 40 acres two miles from our house.  Since we don't live on Purgatory Ranch, we tend to not visit when there are no immediate tasks to attend to there.

 It is one of our many dreams to live here someday, but for now, on this spur of the moment trip, I observe that we have our work cut out for us.  There needs to me some mowing and then some tilling.

 Even through the weeds, some tree onions, missed at last year's harvest, are resolutely poking through.

 Work... lots of work...

And maybe we should trim on the driveway.  Another day.

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.

Misty Morning

Temperatures remained above freezing last night, for the first time in a while, so the air was heavy with moisture on my way to deliver Spunky to her ride to school.

The Assistant is suffering from a nasty persistent and prolonged cough, so she's home for the day.

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

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.

Another One Bites the Dust

 Bradford pear trees, although beautiful, may be my least favorite tree.  Why?  The smell horrible in the spring and drive our allergies bonkers.  They also fall apart in a stiff breeze.  Our last loss was in August, so to lose another so soon is nothing short of frustrating.

 Because the winds were due to change direction the evening this happened, with the wind due to knock down the next third quite possibly onto the deck, we decided to act quickly.  James mowed down the remaining sections with only a near miss or two (tree felling is not for the faint of heart!).

It took us two days to clean up, with James cutting into fireplace lengths and splitting as necessary, as well as loading limbs onto the trailer to take to the green waste dump (no fires this time; we simply don't have time.  JoJo has been out of sorts, so his neediness slowed us down significantly.

The second day, (Sunday... not our favorite day for labor), we geared up in the afternoon with overalls for the kids.  They were so cute it required a photo.  Overalls were great because the kids wanted to climb in the limbs and were getting scratched up.

 One trailer and one truck bed load later, we realize the trailer hitch for the truck is missing.  This is the way it often goes.

Approaching the end.  Throughout the experience, we were reminded of the phrase "two is one, one is none."  Two trailer hitches would be nice (or not losing the first one... it's a long story as to why it's not on the truck), and two chainsaws were necessary, as well as two axes.

 As the last wagon loads of firewood were loaded and stacked, it was necessary to check out the age of our failed tree.  33 years, which would make it as old as the house.

 We only have another... 10 or so... Bradford pears to eventually split.  James thinks we may be able to save them in the future.  Depending on the requirements to save one, I'm game, especially since all our pines have pine wilt and will be requiring removal in the next few years.  And there's two dead trees waiting for us.

Ugh.

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.