Blessed

What else can I say?  Two artists and an brainy athlete, although the artists will argue they are also athletes. they are beautiful and I am blessed,.  Gracias.

Paradise

Cold late spring or no, things have finally burst.  We had a long ten day to two week dry spell. I planted a few things around the full moon in April-lettuce,beets, peas, broccoli, radish, turnip green, spinach...then a big dry spell.  Two years ago I was crying because my garden was a swamp this time of year.

The peas were old and one came up out of the whole packet.  I think they were more than three years old.  I used to know a place I could get a grab bag of the previous year's seed for a few bucks. a big bundle of seed, and every year would buy more and never plant the half of it.

One year I forgot my growing stash of seed on the lawn and it got rained on.  I found a couple I peeled apart to plant this year-cukes and tomatoes, so we'll see how they manage.

Other than the peas, the radish came up like gangbusters, neatly spaced so no need for thinning, although a stretch of nothing in the row at one point. Of course, I don't really like radish, but they are fun to pull up.


 Next on the success list was the turnip greens. I don't really like turnip either, but I do like a variety of greens, so maybe this will be nice, since the spinach was a total no show. The lettuce is just starting in the new bed, not great. I think the beets might be coming up. The broccoli was a no show.

Friday on the New moon I planted like a fiend. Snow peas I saved from my own peas last year.  Purple podded saved stock as well.  I found two really old packets of sweet corn, and recalling the pea failure I thought soaking the seed overnight might be helpful, so I did that and carefully planted each seed as it went in the ground.

More lettuce.  Carrots. Green beans a fairly newer old packet (last year bought this year).  Cosmos Marigolds cabbage . Four varieties of tomatoes and peppers in flats.

I planted old collard seeds two years ago and have had it ever since.  The first year a plant actually overwintered.  Then it threw seedlings.  I found about a dozen seedlings growing and sort of divided them up in a chunk of the bed and they are doing well.  I found a couple clumps of garlic that I kept forgetting to dig, and divided that and put it in a row next to the chives, where it is struggling.  I don't think garlic likes chives, because the chives are really kicking butt right now in that rich location.

We had a couple days of light rain since then, and I keep saying, "see those oldtimers knew what they were saying when they said to plant on the New Moon- the weather just cooperates better, nice gentle rain for two days, woo-yea."

you ought to see what the trees and dandelions thought of that, hanging in stasis between growth waiting for the sign, and the New Moon brought that nice soaking rain.  The grass, the weeds, the bleeding heart has gone from ground level to three feet high and covered in blossoms in two weeks.

Siberian Iris are well over a foot, the day liliies are thick and rank, the bee balm looks good-even one of my two rhodedendrons deigned to blossom this year.

The chicks!  I had eight surviving out of 22 eggs.  The goose eggs were a failure.  The length of time I held the eggs before incubation seemed to have no effect on the hatch rate.  The eggs that didn't hatch were those on the side closest to the ventilation holes.  So either they were too cold or too dry or both.  I turned the eggs in place for the most part during incubation, so I am not sure if relocating the holes, or moving the eggs around would get higher hatch rate.

I did have other issues, I had to help most of the chicks from the shell.  I don't think that was me being hasty, because I had several die pipped without me helping.  I lost a couple I tried to help, but I pretty much assisted 7 out of the eight, and a couple were bleeders that I applied yarrow to.

I lost the one with the eggs sack, although that shrunk up and he was flounding around the unhatched eggs when I left that morning-I decided to follow advice and leave him there since he was weak- he was dead when I came home.. and later I found a  chick pipped face down dead, and I am not sure if the other chick's floundering rolled that one over or not.

So, in the future, I would take them right out of the incubator.,

The young barred rock had offspring hatch in the incubator, because I recognized one of her eggs afterwards. 

The Firebird and I both found ticks on us-I really hate ticks. So I seriously started looking at ordering some guinea hens. But most places have a minimum of 15-30 and I didn't want that many.

Lo and behold I stopped off to buy some grain and they had chicks for sale-including pearl guinea keets! So I bought a half a dozen.They are wicked cute, in the chicks brooder location. I moved my babies to the outside brooders and have been worried like an old mother hen, because our nights have been chilly.

****

I have turned into a dandelion fanatic. A few weeks ago I dug a bunch of plants before they flowered and have a dandelion beer fermenting. More of a hedgerow mead, I suppose.

The recipe promised fermentation in three days and drinking in a week. I was sold. I have brewed a number of batches of beer in my ancient history, and have seen plenty of three day fermentations and drinking in two weeks (much better if you can wait, but who can wait when it's that darn good?)

So Like an idiot, I went to all that trouble and then used old brewer's yeast a friend have given me. I pitched it hot, re ptiched it, realized it was probably dead, and sprinkled some fleishman's on top for good measure. LMAO.

I had two airlocks, so I put it up in two gallon water jugs, melting an airlock sized hole in the plastic top with a hot...knife steel.  I actually had to peruse my steel collection, because airlocks have a pretty wide diameter to match to metal.

One of the jugs has had the most faithful fermentation I have ever seen.  It took a couple days to get going, and then blurp, blurp blurp-for the last three weeks.  I really need to rack it.

The other jug I totally screwed with, I was worried about the old brewer's yeast and right after I pitched it I decided to pour it off the sediment in case it gave an off flavor, so I did.  But then it was quite a bit short of a gallon.  I had a bit extra I put in a jelly jar and a beer bottle with muslim and a rubber band on top, so after a couple days when just number two was still quiet, I added the jelly jar hoping the yeast in that would kick-start number two.

About a week after that and it was still quiet, I opened it up and poured a cup of sugar in.  HAHAHAQ Mount dandelion vesuvius! Well that got a response!

Then I made another lid for the airlock, because I was wondering if the seal was bad and it wasn't really an airlock.  So now I am getting the occasional blurp along with jug number one, and  they are starting to clear, so I will probably rack them in a day or two and then see.

Well yesterday I thought I should do something about the undisturbed beer bottled covered with muslin. So I carefully poured it off into a jelly jar. Cloudy. I tasted a teaspoon.  WOW. I thought it had a lot of potential.

I punched a hole in the lid of the jelly jar with a 20D nail and fitted a small diameter hose into it, which I stuck the other end in another jar of water. It's a form of blow off hose, but can be rigged as an airlock in a pinch.  I was scared to bottle the bottle until I knew if it had completely fermented.  I have heard stories of exploding bottles. That's quiet and the sediment is settling.

Well, I had to give dandelion wine another try! Beer is made from the early root because of the sugar starch content, and flowers from the wine...

I decided I was going to pick 5 gallons of blossom. HAHAHA! I asked Bosses if they would mind if I picked some blossoms from their field and they both laughed and said to help myself. SO I had at it.

I picked for an hour. I picked as fast as I could for an hour.  The herd of goats in the field thought I was nuts. The Great Pyranees thought I was nuts.  I was starting to wonder if I was nuts. As I picked, I recalled all my saplings in turn coming to me with the traditional dandelion bouquet as toddlers, "Look mummy I picked yo some fowwers!"

I remembered picking my first dandelions. I remembered the only other time I attempted dandelion wine and picked those flowers, and it seemed a lot faster, dang!

I Picked 7 quarts of blossoms in an hour. Well, that is what they meausured four hours later and you know how fast they wilt. Heck, they were already starting to ferment.

My cute young co-worker turned 21 today. I was telling her that I was going to pick some blossoms later and she told me a bud of hers had given her a book on how to make alcohol out of everykind of plant imaginable-which I thought was totally cool and wish I could remember the title.

But after I finished crawling around the pasture on my hands and knees for an hour, I had to confess that dandelion wine must be a young person's drink, no matter what they say about grandma's recipe, lol.

and, I am sad to report, I did not see ONE bee in the hundreds of blossoms I crawled through today. I saw one tiny deformed looking bumblebee, a couple of ants, and several winged flies. No honey bees. Not one. An organic farm in the middle of nowhere, and no honeybees.

Chicks (in notepad, tired of losing posts typing live)

I have been up to a lot of different

things.  This time of year, especially,

there are a million things that need my

attention.

Because I don't already have enough on my

plate, I decided to make a homemade

incubator.  I had saved a big extra sturdy

styrofoam shipping container we received

over the winter holidays packed full of

specialty meats, and we had the usual

spring surplus of eggs, so I decided to try

and build a homemade incubator, following

directions easily found on the net.

I demolished an old ceramic lamp for the

lamp parts. That wasn't too easy, because

the thing was a lot thicker than it looked.

 Then I bought a couple of 25 watt bulbs

for about $2.50 and the cheapest hot water

heater thermostat I could find at Home

Depot for about 9.50. 

I put an old cookie tray on the bottom, a

wire rack over that, and then I covered

that with a couple of old terry washcloths.

I drilled the hole and wired the lamp

parts.  I had a hard time figuring which

was the in and out on the thermostat, but

took an educated guess and plugged it in

and it worked so I guessed right.

Since it was an inexpensive thermostat, the

temperature regulator was pretty touchy and

I spent Easter afternoon trying to regulate

it. That involved waiting patiently for the

light to shut off and then quickly checking

the temperature to get the high end.  If it

was too high, I would would try and lower

the thermostat when the thermometer reached

around 101 to shut it off. 


Then it wouldn't come back on until around

88F, which I thought was too low.  One

poultry book I have was quite specific

about maintaining regular temperatures

around 101, another said most bird eggs

hatch between 90 and 100 so I was hoping

that swing would be ok.  I was pretty sure

that temps too high would be bad, although

I had read of successful hatches when the

temp reached 104 for several hours during

incubation, I didn't want to keep it there.



For about 8 days I had been saving each

day's eggs, held point down in an eggs

carton. I placed the egg carton one side

higher than the other and switched high

eggs several times I day.  The eggs being

held are supposed to be between 50 and 60

F, but mine were a bit higher in the low

60's.  The other storage location I tried

was too cold.

When I thought I had the temp regulated as

good as it was going to get, I put the eggs

in.  Then the temps really pulled a nutty. 

Because of the mass of the cool eggs, it

affected the thermostat setting.  So I

spent some of the next day tinkering with

the thermostat AGAIN withe the eggs in

place.  Finally, I just had to figure it

was close enough.

I checked with two other thermometers, and

one said a couple degrees higher and the

other said a couple of degrees lower, so I

stayed with the original thermometer hoping

that was the most accurate.

I placed the eggs on their sides, after

first marking one side with and "X" and the

other with and "O".  Inside the "o" I wrote

a number.  As I had saved the eggs, I

filled the carton from one side to the

other, and the newest eggs started with the

lowest number, and I marked them up to 22,

the amount I felt was plenty for the

incubator, and also all I had collected by

the first day of incubation. 

I wanted to see in the end if how old the

egg was made a difference.

The eggs were an assortment of our barnyard

flock.  The two white leghorn roosters both

have barred rock ancestors. Their father,

or grandfather, I have lost track by now,

was descended from our original barred

rock.

Then we have a black australop hen from

outside stock, a white leghorn from the

same outside stock (hatchery purchased

secondhand as chicks), a barred

rock/leghorn cross related to the roosters,

and an old white leghorn that flew in from

who knows where and adopted our flock many

years ago.

I think that hen is long gone and the third

hen is hatchery or crossbred, but the

Willow insists it is the old hen.  I call

her the energizer chicken for her

outstanding laying reliability.



Our other brown egg layer in the main flock

is this year's barred rock offspring the

black australop brooded out last spring.  I

figured when the leghorn crossbreds threw

the barred rock, but the Willow like to

think it was out of the Australop.  Well,

that hen certainly knew that was HER chick

after she sat on it for 21 days!  The only

one in the clutch to hatch, and she was a

good mama.



So the fertility of any of the little

barred rocks might be questionable; one of

the two roosters was definitely her father,

and the other also related somehow.



That's why I am going on about who was who,

because I was trying to count my chickens

before they were hatched! LOL

I had ONE egg from the barred rock pair,

and I happily marked that number 1 as it

came Easter morning just in time for the

incubating.

I wasn't sure about that one, because both

are old birds and definitely related

somewhere.

Three days into the incubating I had a

chance for a couple for pilgrim goose eggs

and I took it.  I KNOW you're not supposed

to hatch them together due to different

temp and humidity requirements, but since I

had a temperature swing going on anyhow,

and I would have to increase humidity at

hatch for the chickens and the goose eggs

have to be in there longer, I thought it

was worth a shot.

Here I just lost a big long part of the

post, and it's late so I will cut to the

chase.

I have 5 chicks in the brooder. The first

one to pip died in the shell.  I cracked

and chipped some of the shell off the

others and let them finish by themselves.

One had a bit of bleeding and I applied

some crushed fresh yarrow as a styptic with

much success.

Another chick that I tried to help hasn't

gone so well, I think a blood vessel was

damaged and while the yarrow stopped the

bleeding it has not made what appears to be

part of the eggs sack go away and the chick

it very weak and still in the incubator.

I had to take the others out of the

incubator right way because they were

falling on the other eggs and while they

say that it fine I didn't think so, so I

cupped them in my hand and dashed up to the

brooder.

In retrospect I can see that the wet chick

flopping all over the eggs helps to keep

them moist, which has been a problem since

I keep opening the darn incubator.

Note to self: Install a glass top if

attempted again.

The next chick I didn't even realize was

pipping until it was half out of it's shell

and it was quite lively and vocal.  It was

in a corner of the incubator.

The other ones to hatch first were more

directly under the bulb or in the middle of

the eggs.

I have two others that are having trouble

hatching and I have picked some of the

shell and some of the membrane and I am

trying to keep the membrane that is exposed

moist with water drops, but I am afraid to

drown the chicks whose beaks are exposed.

I don't want to rush them out and have them

bleed or the yellow bulge.  But I don't

want to wait too long and have them die

like the first one, which looked fine

(although dead) when I took the shell off.

Out of 22 eggs, on the 21-22 day, I have 5

in the brooder.  Three white leghorn cross

and two that look like black australop. 

One white leghorn died pipping.  One black

australop (barred rock?) weak and egg sack.

Two white having trouble hatching.

So about 25% hatch rate, maybe 30 if I get

lucky.  Maybe half pipped.  I think

temperature variability and heredity both

had an impact.

The ones that have not pipped yet were

closest to the three air holes on one long

side.

Once I have decided to end the incubation,

I will do a tally and see if how old the

eggs were had an impact, since I will look

at the numbers on the ones that didn't

hatch.  I haven't been keeping track of

ones that have hatched.

I would have been able to tell the

difference between the hens of the brown

eggs but I have chucked the eggshell

remains.  They are pretty nasty.

I kept thinking of balut.

:(

Chasing the Green Man

We are "jonesing" for spring around here. A very snowy February has left lots of snow trying to melt, revealing squishy squelchy mud in the places the sun has won the melting battle.

The Willow and I took a walk yesterday.  I took the hearts off the mailbox post and put up the daffodils.  I considered putting up shamrocks, but I didn't have any green material, nor do I have much Irish in my blood.

We decided to take a walk along the stream. The sun was nice and warm, but the air was still cool in the 40's.  We were looking into the pool and marvelling at how clear the water was.  I still have a bit of gold fever, so my eyes were scanning the bottom for any shiny bits.

I saw a nice pendant sized quartz glittering about 8 feet from the edge.  I found a couple of long sticks, and tried to pick it up likeI was wielding  a giant pair a chopsticks.  As soon as the sticks would break the surface of the water, ripples would form breaking the clarity of the water, and I would pause trying to be still and let the water settle to find my target.

Three times I managed to get the little stone in between the sticks only to drop it as I tried to retrieve it.

We scanned the area for something to stand on. I considered taking off my boots and socks and rolling up my pantlegs  and wade in for it, but I knew that water was colder than I wanted to tread.

Willow found a driftwood stump that I placed in the water for a precarious foothold. I teetered, concentrating, straining to reach the bright stone. I watched the cuff of my sleeve break the water as my fingers scrabbled for the evasive rock.

"KERPLOP"

I heard a big splash at the end of the pool, and I thought it was either a fish or The Willow hucking rocks, so I kept my balance and my focus and kept reaching...

"OOOHHH DID YOU SEEEEE THAT?!?!"

My head jerked up, my balanced shifted, and I threw my feet in what I thought was the shallowest direction since I was about to pitch face first into the pool.

I splashed in and my momentum carried me another leap into what turned out to be the wrong direction.  I was up well over my knees, my boots and their thick felts immediately filled with spring melt water.

I quickly headed up the ridge, each boot weighing over eight pounds each with it's gallon of water, my feet and ankles burning and freezing.

I made it up to the rock wall and asked the Willow to run back to the house and get  my other boots. I pulled off the boots to a gush of water, and tried to shed my socks which had somehow shrunk and stuck to my feet.

By the time the Willow had come back with the other boots, I was finally barefoot, but my feet were too wet to put on the boots, so I walked along the top of the stone wall barefoot, skirting the patches of snow on the ground. When I ran out of wall, my feet were mostly dry so I put the dry boots on to cross the snow field on the lawn.

(yeah, I am not THAT tough)

Later that afternoon we set ten sugar maples taps, The Willow ceremoniously catching first drips on her tongue off each tap as it went in.  She doesn't care for the boiled down maple syrup, but she loooves the fresh sap.

Today I was reading about shamrocks and spring things like that, and I found out there is (used to be?) a spring tradition in the UK involving a parade and someone dressed as the Green Man. Which culminated in the Green Man being dunked in the stream to ensure plenty of rain for the growing crops.

The Green Man is said to rise with the sap in the spring .

Welcome Spring.

Dunked, barefoot, and tapped. :)

Soccer talk

The Firebird has been playing indoor soccer this winter.  We had a scheduling conflict with basketball, so as a consolation I agreed to indoor soccer at the encouragement of his varsity coach.

The indoor arena is pretty cool, artificial turf with a ground rubber underlayment. The rules are a little different. you are not allowed to hit the ceiling (the other team gets a kick) you are not allowed to hit one of the lights or you get taken out of the game for 5 minutes. You are not allowed to slide.

And come hell, highwater, or a three foot blizzard, the game will not be cancelled.

Last game we were under a winter storm warning, not a lot of snow, but 60mph wind gusts. I really didn't want to drive in the weather, but then a teammate texted looking for a ride, so of course I agreed to drive TWO of the players to the game.

I was glad I did. The other team was short 3 players for a team, so we lent them two of ours, and one stayed over from the previous game and helped them out. So no subs for either team. I was sitting on the sidelines in a row that was comprised of myself, our varsity coach, and a couple other coaches.  I could hear them comparing notes, but tried not to eavesdrop.

The Firebird really wanted a goal.  In a scrabble near the goal, he chested one in.  A short while later, he had a throw-in that nicked the foot of a player from the other team and went in. Then, he had two assists. 

We kept leading by one, then the other team would score and tie it up. We were ahead in the last few seconds.  His teammate that rode up with us threw the ball to the Firebird from the sidelines.  The Fierbird had his back to the goal.  The throw came in low to the Firebird's feet.  Suddenly he hooked the ball and kicked it up high over his head and behind him, landing flat on his back.

The coaches all burst out in exclamation and fell off their seats laughing.

"I have NEVER seen that move before!" exclaimed our varsity coach.

"Well, I have seen a bicycle kick, but never that low," he added.

"He's YOUR son!" he chuckled as I shrugged my shoulders and laughed in agreement.

He should see some of the moves the Firebird makes up in the yard when he thinks no one is looking.  Just ask my rosebush.  :P

Midlife Crisis #2

When you've gone so long without shaving that you have the opportunity to realize that the only hair on your body not turning grey is under your arms.

Midlife crisis # 1 "I'm Stupid"

duh, yeah, can't even think of an  opening line for that great blog title.

My passion has abandoned me.  The insatiable urge to put my thoughts out there sifts away.

The lines to Bohemian Rhapsody bubble up to my subconcious-nothing really matters..

is it suddenly seeing a speck of time and acknowledging that nothing is permanent and what seems so important really isn't important at all.

precious moments reading crap and merely functioning within parameters set for oneself.

Maybe senior stupidity isn't that bad.  An aging brain learns not to sweat the small stuff, it merely boils down to sleep, drink. eliminate.

Not necessarily in that order.