Farming 102- chickens

14 May 2010

Earlier in this blog I mentioned our three chickens. You may think we got them so that each of the three dogs could have one as a pet. I assure you that any one of our dogs would love to give the chicks what my S.O. calls “pointy kisses.” If I had started the blog just a week or so earlier, however, we would have reported six chickens. There is a rule in Virginia, apparently, that you cannot buy fewer than six baby chicks. So on April first, April fools ever, we bought six, day-old pullets at a local farm store. We were given pause by the instructions not to fondle or kiss the chicks. What could possibly happen to them? (Actually, my first thought was. “Who would want to?” but I realized almost any child would.) Turns out this is to prevent the humans from contracting salmonella poisoning. Ion chose three red and three yellow chicks. Although they were together from hatching, the six would naturally segregate into little groups by color. Hmmm.

We raised the chicks in the living room (not recommended- they are stinky little buggers) until the weather warmed enough for them to go outside. Outside, the chicks lived in a sturdy dog crate, the reasoning being that if a dog could not get out, then a fox, our local predator, could not get in. Wrong! One night, in full view of the German Shepherd Dog, something got to the chickens. The wire openings in the bottom of the pen were slightly larger, and some small predator- a weasel or cat, perhaps, had dug a hole and squeezed under.

In the morning I noticed that the chickens were very quiet. Then I saw that two white pullets and one red were missing. Closer examination of the crime scene showed the tunnel into the pen, feathers, blood, and further carnage. Of the three remaining pullets, only one was unscathed, and she was covered in her sisters’ blood so that it was not immediately apparent if she was red or white. The two surviving red chickens had terrible wounds, one a dislocated wing, the other’s wing was torn completely off. Fortunately there were no bodies to discover and bury, just a few scattered feathers. I think that I was in shock as long as the chickens, who recovered by the next day. Their little dinosaur brains are quick to forget. The two injured ones are still understandably unhappy about being touched. All three survivors are back to thriving, but we bring them into the living room at night now.

Nighty-night.

-Radioactive Girl

Farming 101- Gardening

The great lawn into garden experiment

In April I dug up some of my front lawn.

Last year, it was the back lawn. I was able to grow some flowers and Coleus, but no vegetables. The spearmint, a plant that can overtake the planet if unchecked, barely made an appearance this spring. Why? The site gets no sun. None. Full shade full time. Heavier than normal rains probably didn’t help, either. The rain last year even drowned out a nascent lawn. Grass is coming up downstream, this spring. Undaunted, I set the spade to the front lawn. The experts told me there was not enough sun, but I happen to know that in the afternoon and early evening, the lawn gets almost full sun. So I was undaunted. I had to dig up the area where we pulled out four 20-year-old azaleas last year, in order to replant with new ones, so I just carried on a bit and ended up with a three by twenty foot vegetable patch, right smack in front of the house. On one side only- there is a sidewalk from the driveway on the other.

So far I planted tons more tomato plants than any family of three needs, including several heirloom varieties. They are not my personal heirlooms, but they were available locally so maybe they are Virginia heirlooms (see Mr. Stripey, above). I planted two eggplants, a couple of peppers, zucchini and summer squash, cucumber and numerous herbs. Cilantro, parsley, basil, and a few I forgot. I have seeds for even more herbs but I have not gotten them in the ground. Gee, they should have gone in first!

You can see that is probably too much for a 3x20 foot plot that was lawn three weeks ago, but I’m already holding myself back. I have so missed a vegetable garden! Where will I put the beans? The peas? The greens? I had planned to put the lettuce and greens out back and chance the shade, but the gargantuan (possible irradiated?) groundhog eats everything to the ground back there, even the dandelions. In front of the dogs. Apparently groundhogs are smart enough to know when a dog can’t get at them. He is so fat that I have wondered f groundhogs are good eating. Don’t wonder that out loud! In an area of the country where people eat fatback and squirrel and pickled pigs’ feet and consider it haute cuisine, everybody looks at me as if I’m mad. What? Groundhogs’re vegetarians. They eat the best food; I know, it comes from my garden!

I am told that I am tempting fate and that this part of Virginia may get frost until mid-may, but so far the little garden has weathered two frosts with just some wilting, no deaths. Deaths are much more likely from me forgetting to water things. There is a little community garden across the circle from us, but I have noticed that it gets even less sun that my lawn, and there is no water available except by bucket brigade. I still may throw my extra pepper plant in there. I got carried away with six-packs, and gave my friend at work tomatoes, peppers, zucchini and summer squash to reduce my planting burden. She’s already got squash blossoms; my plants are not yet all in the ground. Hmmmm. I should have given her more!

Nighty-night. Radioactive Girl 2010