What The Cluck

Check, lesson learned.

As the chickens on the ECF (Experimental Chicken Farm) were growing and having the freedom to free range, that's when it hit. Only about a week after true freedom was given, and the chickens were free ranging nicely down on 355, it happened.

It all started the day David went out of town for a work conference, I had moseyed my way down to 355 to feed. That's when I saw her. One of the chickens lying there, having been attacked by (likely) a raccoon or skunk. Why, you ask? Because only her head was gone, and according to the website Backyard Chickens, that's what those predators do. Of course, I was shocked and so very sad about this. I felt responsible and felt the lump in my throat rise with tears to follow. It was then and there, that something was going to have to change. My ECF was not going to be safe on 355 after all. Those predators will likely come back, and they typically do until the whole flock is gone. So that was Wed that I made that gruesome discover. Knowing it would take a chunk of time to get them moved, with the fencing, coop, etc, I was determined to get them moved as soon as I could manage it. But when?

Unfortunately, I lost another hen Thursday, and decided to make a change to the fencing on 355, to confine them, until I could get them moved up by the house, so the guard dogs could guard them, instead of the donkeys. Sadly, it starts this way, these killings. A predator is coming daily for their meal. One per day, and now I need to figure this out soon, like now. So, until I could get them moved up by the house under the protection of the guard dogs, I secured the chickens fencing around them again, and got it all buttoned up. No more free ranging for them - as that's when the killings occurred. So I'd lock then down until I could get them moved. I needed to mull it over about how to get them moved - on my own.



After the second hen was killed, it was obvious she was attacked differently than the first because she was almost all gone. I turned to the donkeys and asked them how they could let a predator stay so long on the property, without chasing it off. The donkeys said it was because it's cold and wet, and they did not want to leave their shelter. Fine, then. I'm taking the responsibility away from you two, Mama and Papa donkey. I'm very disappointed in you both. It's vividly clear that the donkeys are not going to be able to protect the chickens like I had originally thought.

Okay, now I'm two chickens down. Granted they are all secured by fencing again, and it's Friday. I'm heading into work, and the chickens on the ECF would not be free ranging anytime soon. I will make my mental preparations for Friday evening to get them moved. So all day at work Friday, I felt like a killer. I had let this happen, and now I need to fix it. It's all on me, and I'll have to make the move by myself. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Friday's work day ended. I had thought about it all day, and made my mental plan. But I would need to wait until dusk/night fall to start moving the chickens. Why you ask? When chickens go to roost at night, they go into a trance, if you will. They are docile, and in a trance-like state that makes them easy to grab. Unlike trying to chase down 20-something chickens in a pen, traumatizing them. So as the sun went to bed, so did the chickens. The moon shone its night light, and I made my way to 355, almost tiptoeing every step to not wake the chickens. I could hear them in their coop, restless and making their little zoom beanie noises. They knew things were different, with new sounds around them. I'd need to gather 4 pieces of the portable fencing, to place around their next destination: The Belle Tower. But before I do that, I would create a smaller area for them right now, in case they did try to leave the coop, they would not escape far. After I quietly secured their smaller area around their coop, and laid out three boxes for their transport, I then quietly detached the fasteners from the fence, loaded it all onto the back of my truck (via the help of my back - and physics). The headlight I wore around my head was on low beam, and along with the moon watching, the fencing was loaded onto my truck. Success, as Phase I was completed, and onto Phase II: I'll set up the fencing around the Belle Tower - their new coop. I drive it all back to the house, and into the pasture, over to The Belle Tower.




The Belle Tower was once a children's play structure we bought used off CraigsList. We turned it into shelter facility for our only sheep at the time, bottle-baby Belle. She would walk up the ramp to the "second" floor area and look at the window of the little room there. She's too big to do that anymore, but we still call it the Belle Tower, and it's about to be transformed into a chicken coop. I never saw that coming. (It has since been painted and remodeled to match the house and other buildings on the property)

I digress. Using the lights of my truck, I unload this fencing off the truck (my back and physics again), and connect it all together around The Belle Tower, their soon-to-be new coop. I placed shavings in there, and it was ready for the chickens arrival. Now Phase III, the most critical of all: transport of the chickens. I drive back down to 355, and once again, quietly make my way into their now-small fenced area. These chickens have no idea that their about to move homes, but here we go. It's like going to bed in your warm-and-comfy bed in your own home, and awaken in someone else's house.

I count it down in my head, 3, 2, 1 and GO! I quickly open the chicken coop, and frantically start taking a chicken one at a time, coop to the box, coop to the box, coop to the box, then coop to the other box, when that one got full. They are now all awake and trying to get out of the coop and trying to get out of the boxes. It's like a chicken frenzy, but yet they were all much calmer than if it had been daytime. I was counting every time I put one in a box. I lost count. Oh dang. Okay, just get them in the boxes, I'm thinking, and you can count them when you put them in the Belle Tower. Done! All chickens in (one of three) boxes. I load the boxes into the truck, and drive back to the house, into the pasture and to the Belle Tower. I use the lights of my truck to get them through the fencing door, and up the ramp to their new coop area. I unload one box at a time, as the chickens huddle in the corner - unsure of what was happening. I did manage to count them as I unloaded all three boxes. 21. 21 chickens. I used to have 24. I knew 2 had been killed, but what about the other one I'm missing? It must have been taken away by a hawk? Or a coyote even? I had made sure I got ALL the chickens. 21 is all there was. But 21 it would be, and now I could rest that they would be much safer than on 355. Sad, but true.



Mission Completed. Levi and Whisper, Guard Dogs Extraordinaire, were watching all this take place on this dark Friday night. Although the chickens were inside the fencing and up on the second floor of the Belle Tower, I knew they were now safe, and under the watchful eyes of Levi and Whisper.



As those in the area know, a cold front is blowing in, and it'll be 22 degrees for the next couple of nights. We have everyone set up with straw, shelter and protection from the bitter north wind. The barn is shut tight. Let's see what today will bring.

Time to rethink the chicken farm.......again,

Cyndi

Welcome, Winter, and come on in

Is it November? Halloween came and went, lickity split.



Guess I'll need to put up the (only few) Halloween decorations I placed around. This is Skully, she makes her way around the farm during the Halloween holidays.



As a nurse, this was my fav pumpkin pic of the season. Wish I had thought of that!


But really

Where did 2019 go? I know one thing for sure, the holidays are coming and that means 1) more days off work, 2) time to reflect on the meaning of the season, and 3) I secretly wish that one holiday season could be about time with family/friends only, with no gift giving/receiving. It's not that I don't want to shop, wrap or send gifts, I actually like doing that very much. I've just been thinking about making this season different than all the rest. Giving of time vs actual gifts. I'm still bouncing this around in my head. It sounds good, but the societal traditions and pressures of gift giving is strong. My main focus about this idea is turning the focus on faith, and people who we love and adore. I'm still piecing it together, and not convinced I can not give gifts (big sigh). I'll need to marinate on this.



Remember Science Fair projects?

They were so simple years ago. Luckily, I now get to do them just because. The dust is settling on the Experimental Chicken Farm, and the stats are looking good. All 24 chickens are alive and well, with credit to Mama and Papa donkey for being there for them. Over a short period of time, we have grown their enclosure, then opened it up for free ranging, and are now in the process of breaking down the fencing surrounding them, to allow them to free range for real. Wham, bam. The process is slow, yet so fast. Chickens grow quick, as they waste no time when it comes to splitting cells. And today, I saw them venture out further than ever before, as we took away some of the fencing that I assume used to make them feel safe. This now allows them freer access to the outside world of '355'. 355 Little Elm Creek Rd is theirs to share with the donkeys. They are still staying close to their Coop (home base), but I see the braver ones pushing their personal boundaries and stepping where they have not gone before (gasp). You know the scariest part of it all? (deep breathe in) I don't know the ending to this story (long exhale). I don't know how I'll set up their next phase of life, as they grow and move out more into the pasture, grow more and start laying lots of eggs everyday, and then what about bringing more chickens in, and at what time to keep this all going because chickens only lay eggs for about 3 year (deep breath). So many questions. You know the best part about that? Google and YouTube and the whole big interweb is at my finger tips to help me along (interject feeling of relief here).



Chuck The Chicken Checker and Chicken Counter suggested checking them twice in a recent text, when a freeze was happening that night. Siri suggested I add that to my calendar. She's so nosy. Yes, David's pic on my phone (right now) is Emilio Iglesias. Sometimes it's Donny Osmond or Drake. Depending on my mood.



Let's go somewhere new

Backie did. It was only a matter of a day or two after Blackie was released back out to the wild, and four five seconds from wilden, he gone. His forehead was completely healed, his sweet self back out to the world and gone. Almost 2 weeks went by before he was back. Where did that boy go? Not to worry, he's back in his Spot in the Tack Room. Thank goodness, Blackie, you had me worried there for a minute (groan). Our hearts had attached to your sweet soul, and you left us. I can't imagine where you were for that long, but I'm glad you're back! For everyone following his progress, Blackie's wound has healed, he's still sweet as pie, and back home with us as an official barn cat. Please don't wander away like that, you scared me. And just so you know, you're now counted in the Population Count as part of our cat community. I took you out of the 'stray' category, so stay close, my dear (muah).



My Magic Pond

It's like a disappearing act. It used to be there, that pond we had. Then the digging started to make you nice and lush, and abracadabra, you're gone (poof). The rains came, the digging stopped and now we wait. It's like when you bring a sweater for the office AC and then are sweating outside. It's good, and then it's not (boo).



You can dance, said Vodka

A backhoe is not as easy as it looks to maneuver. Noted.

Phresh Phood, please

The idea to get the sheep and goats together was genius. It's working out well. They have certainly eaten the &^$#* out of the back pasture. But uh oh, winter is descending, and nothing new is growing. Know what time it is? It's not hammer time, it's feeding time. Fresh alfalfa and hay is on the menu with a side of sheep/goat grain. The goats and sheep act like it's crack, probably because their food supply is down to the ground. They know morning and evening is feeding time, and they like to announce it loud and clear. It's that time of year, when they depend on us for their food, as the pasture is no longer a food source for most all the animals. The donkeys will get a fresh round bale of hay, and the horses are being supplemented with alfalfa cubes. It's definitely the most expensive time of the year, as even the chickens eat more of their feed with less to free range on. It's fun actually, as it provides the opportunity to be face to face with everyone a little more than usual. Love to love them.



Speaking of love, Dotty and Petunia love Dixie's dog house. They are still small enough to hold in your arms. They are so cute with their little horns growing in. Cuteness overload, for sure, right outside my door.


The big change

Just like changing boyfriend/girlfriends or even menopause, season changes can be impacting and difficult. They bring new challenges and effort to adapt. As we move from Summer, to a 2 week Fall, and then straight to Winter, we have to hustle to keep up (hup). We've done it before, and know what is to be done. It all starts with buttoning up the barn. Closing the windows, shutting the huge doors more, putting straw in the horses, goats and sheep sleeping quarters. We round up the electrical water heaters just to be ready. Time to buy hay, alfalfa and round bales and store it. Things. Plenty of things to do. It's a matter of making sure everyone has access to warmth, water and fresh food. The pasture won't be available to them until Spring comes and grass and forbes grow again. It's funny, how this all works. We get so used to feeding everyone in the winter time, that when spring and summer comes, it all seems so easy. The ebb and flow of having farm animals is an exciting concept, and I always feel the relief when he have "made the change". When the animals are situated with proper shelter, and old feeding troughs are new again, then you can be sure the "call of the animals" to come 'feed me' starts (whew). Baaaaa, Maaaaaa, Neyyyy., and the Hew Haw-ing all remind us they are (patiently?) waiting for their food, please. Ready, set, let's get winter going. After all, Brooke has her Ms Claus apron ready to serve hot chocolate, so winter is definitely here.


But aren't you busy

So yeah, we work, have real jobs along with our own hobby's and passions. Never to busy for all we have been blessed to care for. It takes both David and I to make all this happen (yicks). Most importantly, what I have discovered is that both people have to be "all in" in order to care for the animals and property. There's a mowing season, a feeding season, baby farm animals season(s), regular clean up chores and more. Between the two of us, it works wonderfully. Right now though, I'm spending much more time running as I prepare for a race in March. Due to the distance of the race, it requires me to be on the road running for hours at a time. This impacts the routine at the farm. It in itself is a change that I constantly have to be mindful of. Thoughts like: when will I be out running, what needs to be done (work, home, farm), and what is the weather like (very important), so that I can do all I need to do to prepare for the race and be available to handle the chores around the property. So far, so good. But, it's an ongoing process that needs attention. Training for this type of race will wear anyone down, so keeping a healthy balance is always my goal. Right now, it's also about making sure all the seasonal changes are completed so that we all move into winter ready, healthy and well.


Sit Down! No more questions!

This was actually announced by an airline attendant at the small airport terminal in Key West years ago, when the flight was delayed for MANY hours (double digits), and the customers (including us) were getting relentless and demanding answers to their questions. Like, will we ever get out of here? And since I know you have one more question, I'm going to go ahead and answer it:





She was a unicorn.


Welcome to November, my loves,

Cyndi