Under Construction

RIP Snickett

Well, in addition to killing a hen today, I was reminded that, hey, it's not all about me. And, by the way, I could pause and listen every now and again.

Actual g-chat conversation with someone I am close to from earlier today:

Her:  hi

 me:  hi

i just killed a hen

ew

wasn't that a nice greeting?

 Her:  yikes, why, how?

 me:  her intestines were sitting next to her in the coop--figured I should put her out of her misery. Used an ax

her:  oh my god

that is horrible

how does that even happen?

ewwww

 me:  it was the one with the weird featherless bulge beneath her. Probably was a hernia or something that burst

 her:  ohhhhhhhh

yuck

wow

 me:  she didn't ever seem to be in pain about it but today she was

 her:  where is (Biscuit) and (Mr. H) when this was going down?

 me:  (Mr. H) running errands--(Biscuit) asleep

 her:  oh jesus

 me:  wanted to do it before (Biscuit) got up

 her:  probably a good idea

::let's just pause and notice that she initiated this conversation and it's taken me what, 15 lines to ask how she's doing. Nice!::

 me:  so how was (recent vacation)?

 Her:  well just to let you know, (long time boyfriend) and i broke up last night, i mean just to add more sad stories!

(vacation) was fun, until the break up

 me:  Whoa! sorry to distract you with dead chickens. Call me

This "conversation" in addition to the phone conversation I had with another close friend. Paraphrased:

Me: Hi, I know you're at work, do you have a minute?

Her: Sure!

Me: I just killed a hen. Oh my gosh. She didn't die the first time. It took two tries. Oh my gosh. Ack. Gross. Body still in the yard. Ack.

Her: Laughing (which doesn't sound like it but was a totally appropriate response). Whoa, are you okay. Are you going to bury her? What are you going to tell Biscuit? Oh, do you need to get that other phone that's ringing?

Me: Oh, I better get that. Sorry, bye!

Many hours later, I call back to report that I'm recovered from the euthanasia experience

Friend's husband: Hi

Me: Hi, just wanted to let friend know I'm okay.

FH: Yeah, sorry you had to deal with that. My dad had to do the same to one of his hens last week.

Me: Oh, bummer (feeling significantly less special)

FH: and did friend mention about our dog?

Me: Oh no, what?

FH: we had to put her to sleep while you were on vacation (note: this is their very old and very beloved dog with whom their children have grown up)

Me: Whoa, I'm so sorry (and a total jerk).

So, there you go. I am a jerk. And, also, I killed a hen today. With a sharp implement that wasn't actually an axe. After the broomstick method I read about failed to kill the hen but scared her and caused much horrible flopping about. Yeah, it was unpleasant. But, for her, I am 100% certain this was better than waiting to die in the very sad condition she was in.

Let's close this sad chapter with another paraphrased conversation. We have either a very insensitive or very practical minded child.

Me: Biscuit, I have some sad news

Biscuit: Can I go swimming after your exercise class?

Me: Yes, but I have some sad news.

Biscuit: What?

Me: Snickett died today. She was very sick and she died.

Biscuit: Where was she sick?

Me: Um, in the coop.

Biscuit: Where did she die?

Me: Um, in the yard (100% truth I'll have you notice. I just left out the bit about how she died exactly)

Biscuit: Okay.

Me: Okay

::several minutes later, not sure how it came up::

Biscuit: Where is Snickett now?

Me: (oh no, the truth is not good) Um, in the trash can.

Biscuit: Which trash can?

Me: (what the heck with all the location questions, kid?) the big green one outside

Biscuit: What did you use to pick her up to put her in the trash can?

Me: (seriously, kid? seriously?) Um, a bag

Biscuit: Oh, I thought you would use a shovel so you wouldn't waste a bag

Me: (Shovel, genius idea. Should have thought of that. Wait, waste a bag. Poor hen wasn't even worth a bag?) Well, it's okay

Biscuit: If you left her in the yard other animals could have eaten her (no doubt she was thinking of the squirrel head discovered in the yard, mostly eaten, a few weeks ago)

Me: True

And I won't even get into the later discussion about how friend's dog would have to be buried because she would be too big to fit into the green trash can. Not to mention, the dog was a beloved pet. And then she said she would miss Snickett.

Thus concludes the run down of today's death and destruction. I am now convinced all the hens are on death's door although none are showing actual signs of dying. It's delightful around here.

Published!

If you grew up in the Western U.S., chances are you're familiar with Sunset Magazine. It's consistently been one of my very favorite "shelter" magazines with the perfect mix of home decor/renovation, gardening, recipes/food and travel with no pesky fashion section to take up space.

 

I can remember pulling issues of Sunset out of my parents magazine basket when I was in my architecture phase and spent time drawing blueprints of houses with no 90 degree angles and submarines designed to submerge in my friend Katie's swimming pool with a hose attached to a lifesaver ring for fresh air. Oh, and hunks of styrofoam for flotation. I'm sure that would have worked out perfectly.

Anyway, all that to say that I've been a fan of Sunset for some time.

So it was super, duper, incredibly flattering to have won their reader photo contest! Can you believe it? Me either. In my March issue I read about the contest to have your photo published on the last page of the magazine. If ever there was a magazine I'd like to be published in, Sunset is it but I never imagined it was actually possible. For June the theme was "my Western backyard" and I immediately knew I wanted an image of the hens with the amazing sign Biscuit designed and Mr. H made on the new fence Mr. H built.

I ran outside and snapped a few images, uploaded to flickr and believe it or not, a few weeks later one of the Sunset editors tracked me down (my flickr account was set to the wrong email so she had to work at it--oops). She let me know I was a finalist. I sent more info and the photo file and a few weeks after that, just when I had given up all hope, I got news that we won. It was a real team effort for our family and so, so fun to see in print. Can you tell I'm thrilled?

Here it is:

 

I think you can click to enlarge.

And now, if I might, can I urge you to renew your subscription to Sunset? They'll mail outside the Western U.S. so you don't have to be local. And there are five regional mags so if you are in the West your issue is sure to be super local. They totally didn't pay me to say this but with all the good magazines going down the tubes I thought I'd ask my 2 readers to consider subscribing to help keep Sunset among the survivors.

So excited!

Daffodils, eggs and a public service announcement

DAFFODILS

Last weekend, after a camping trip with friends, we stopped in for a short visit to Daffodil Hill.

 

It was opening weekend and boy was it crowded!

 

This was a baby peacock "nesting" in a pot. Funny.

 

EGGS

 

It must be Spring, the hens are producing like crazy. We've gone from 2-4 eggs a day to 4-6 eggs a day (not counting breakage). On Monday we got 6 eggs and since we have 6 hens I feel pretty confident we now know who lays what. We've confirmed that the large, golden twins (Lemony and Snickett) have eggs that are slightly different shades of brown. April lays pinkish tan eggs and the "puff heads" (Amy, Sunshine and Petey) lay small, pointy, white eggs. Biscuit has been using this basket to gather eggs so every day is Easter around here. Of course the chocolate filled eggs next week will still be exciting.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

It seems that many of my fellow bloggers spend a lot of time pouring over books and other written things. Except that they should be poring. I know it looks wrong as pore but according to Merriam Webster, it's right. Pour syrup. Pour on the love. Pore over the letter you received. Okay? Okay. Thanks.

Four is awesome

Four can also be a giant pain in my you-know-what and I did wake up this morning soaked in someone else's pee (it wasn't Mr. H) but let's focus on the positive. This is going to be a long post because four has been extra awesome this week and I don't want to forget.

Four did NOT want to wear her Christmas dress to the Nutcracker. I agreed on "the purple dress" only to discover she meant the sequined, too long purple dress up dress (thanks, mom). We compromised on this lovely green affair better suited for a summer wedding with a pink pajama shirt underneath.

 

She got a surprising number of compliments on the get up and was SUCH a lady during the Nutcracker. The flower dance in act two (is that the name?) got a bit long and fidgety but she held it together. As we were leaving we happened upon a cast interview and she was rapt in the front row listening to the dancers. For the record, Clara was 12 and Fritz was 11. You have to be 6 to try out for the Sacramento production.

 

Ignore the post-Christmas mess and focus on "Clara" dancing along with the Bolshoi Ballet tonight. She chose to watch the Nutcracker over Word World and even the Tom and Jerry dvd Santa brought her! Then she got dressed in her most Clara-like dress and danced along.

 

Backing up a few days--Christmas morning was hilarious. My parents and sister spent the night for what turned out to be a very anticlimactic morning. This shot of dumping the stocking was as crazy as it got. She was thrilled to receive a pack of gum and expressed general pleasure about everything she received but she was so....controlled. It was almost weird but we were able to enjoy a relaxed morning trading off gift opening and pausing to make and then eat cranberry lemon scones.

 

Another cute thing. We're currently enjoying 2 weeks (!!) off as a family. Gotta love teacher schedules and budget furloughs. Biscuit has taken up the habit of checking for eggs first thing in pajamas and, adorably, red rain boots.

 

Speaking of chickens, Four came up with a joke today. You should know that she is REALLY into potty words and "poopy" is pretty much the funniest word known to human kind. So here goes:

Why did the chicken cross the road? Because he had to poop! (insert laughter)

 

And tonight totally made up for getting peed on this morning (for the record, she has a cold and apparently that makes her a much deeper sleeper than normal. She's snuck into our bed for months with nary a scare of an accident and then I woke up drenched).

 

My mom got Biscuit a second hand kids sewing machine for Christmas and the kid was surprisingly enthusiastic to try it. She even wrote three thank you notes after dinner so she could give it a whirl.

After a test run on cotton, we got to her project of choice, a doll dress for the doll were were supposed to make for her school. (In October. Oops).

 

I helped guide the fabric but she followed the white crayon line surprisingly well and completely controlled the foot pedal.

 

I was so proud but I think she was even prouder. "Look what I made all by myself!" "My doll's dress is perfect!"

Tomorrow we have to give this overdue doll a face and hair. And then I'll make Biscuit a matching dress because I have a lot of that gray, striped knit and her favorite summer dress (oddly) is made from that fabric. Time for a long sleeve winter version.

Yay for four. Yay for vacation!

The glamorous life of the suburban chicken farmer

Muddy chickens anxious to get out of their muddy chicken run and play in the muddy yard.

 

Muddy, poopy henhouse. But look! Two eggs! (and there's one more that actually made it into the nesting box)

 

So I grabbed the eggs scooped out the poop and wood shavings.

 

While Petey tried to eat my blue jeans

 

Then I added a layer of straw thinking it would 1. provide padding to prevent some of the rampant egg breakage and 2. cut down on the muddy muddiness.

 

So far the straw has mostly just made a mess. Hint: don't go buy a bale of straw in your Accord.

 

Also in the interest of cutting down on egg breakage I got the gals some crushed oyster shells to munch. Doesn't it look pretty in my failed ceramic project pie pan?

 

Yes, it's glamorous having hens. But check out these eggs!

 

Now you're jealous, right?

Freeloaders no more?

What a pleasant surprise when I was cleaning the coop today!

 

Our first, tiny, lonely, who-knows-how-old egg. Way to go ladies.

 

Whichever of you it was.

 

We had pretty much given up on eggs until spring.

Getting what she asked for

When asked a few weeks ago, Biscuit requested a refrigerator for her fourth birthday. She's right, her play kitchen doesn't have a fridge.

Mr. H is remedying that situation.

In other news, my favorite chicken, who just happened to be a rooster, now lives with Vladimir and his family. Three hours on craigslist and he had a new home. Biscuit is upset but not as upset as she was about the idea of us eating him. Bye, Apollo!

Before and (not quite) after

I very nearly wrote this blog post about my oven. But I decided that would be too boring even given the every day posting around here.

So instead, how 'bout some before and after action?

Chicken coop at 11 am with Biscuit decked out in one of my old shirts as a paint coverall.

work in progress (She was a surprisingly good painter)

And there it is with a first coat of a really odd paint color. I got a $5 oops can of paint (determined not to sink any more money into a chicken coop!). Not sure about the color...

I still need to paint the trim and then maybe the birds will be so pleased they'll lay us an egg already. Freeloaders.

Have I mentioned one has turned out to be a rooster? Of course it's my favorite. The debates about what to do are ongoing.

Sunday around the house

 

Started the day making a half rhubarb half cherry clafouti. Fortunately I am the only one in the house who likes custardish desserts so it was all mine. I just polished it off 36 hours later. What? It was mostly eggs and milk. Healthy stuff!

Meanwhile, outside, Biscuit was making mud soup. I forgot how enjoyable it seems to play in some good, sticky mud. The hose kept her entertained so I could work (at work, work, blech) and Mr. H could work on the coop.

See that little ramp and the (closed) door on the left? That's the connection between the fully enclosed coop and nest boxes and perches (on the left) and the chicken wire enclosed outdoor, food area on the right. What to hear something funny? Mr. H installed a self closing door mechanism on the gate into the run area (because he's all McGyver like that) and, yes, I just locked myself into the run this evening. Mr. H was asleep so I had to slide through this little chicken door and into the coop where I could exit through the (fortunately unlocked) door. Just tonight I was explaining how easy it would be (for an idiot) to lock themselves into the run and wouldn't it be funny to lock your spouse or kid in there? HA HA! Time for a piece of string on the gate latch.

So, after admitting my stupidity, let's close with a shot of Mr. H with Amy, his very favorite chicken. For a guy who really, REALLY didn't want chickens (he got a BOAT in trade through our negotiations) he has really taken to these birds.

Hope you had a great weekend and a Monday that didn't involve locking yourself into your own chicken run.

Chicken update

They're getting so big! And so hard to catch! They get to play outside most days and usually hang out under the lemon tree. They're in their box if we can't be here to supervise.

And, clearly, they're outgrowing their box. Yes, that's poop on the floor. Lovely.
 
Luckily the coop should be done tomorrow and they can move in.

Have I formally introduced these ladies? They were finally all named thanks to our 8 year old, super responsible chicken sitter next door.

From left to right: Apollo (black and white speckles, total nut case, hardest BY FAR to catch every night); Amy (black with white head. This isn't the original Amy, they switched names. She is the easiest, sweetest and and also the boss of the chickens); Petey (mostly orange with a fluffy head, personality tbd); April (brown, hard to see in this photo, super fast but not a wily as Apollo); Sunshine (light yellow, seems to have something wrong with her, she's very, very slow and I'm a bit worried); Lemony and Snicket (indistinguishable gold hens, both typically called Lemony, very fat and soft with crazy feathered feet).

I think I'm finally going to get back into sewing tomorrow. Between business trips, internet outages, lack of inspiration etc I've not got much to show. Yet!