April - A cold snap, destruction in the orchard, and renewal.

April is a polar month. Not in the sense that the weather is arctic, but rather in the sense that it is well known for its inability to make up its mind as to which season it belongs. It is neither hot nor cold. It is known not for its endless sunny days or its clouds.  Shall it rain today, or snow?  Many times you’ll find yourself dressing as for a sleigh ride in the morning and be in a tank top and shorts by afternoon. The one thing that is certain is that everyone, aside from the most warped among us, is dreaming of seeing Winter in the rear view mirror.

We have spent our Winter planning gardens, searching catalogs for patio cushions,

and looking forward to the day we can once again expose ourselves to the warmth of the sun without

running the risk of frostbite.

The beginning of April is, as always, a battle. It teases us with a little rain and a little sunshine.

We, in anticipatory haste, swap our chunky sweaters for our knit tops, and our floor length skirts are

packed away in favor of the knee length variety. This activity, while mentally uplifting, is only dashed to

deeper depths when Mother Nature decides to run afoul and change her mind again.  

This year we had ample moisture and for the first time the orchard looked like an orchard.

The branches were full of blossoms and heavy with thick leaves. I was thrilled that for the first time ever,

our orchard looked like a field of trees from the road instead of a twig farm.

Even the bees came out in time to take advantage of the abundance instead of taking a look outside

and rolling over and going back to bed. 

Fertilizer was going down monthly, and the spraying schedule was firmly in place. 

It was all going so well, until our local deer herd, heavily pregnant, got a craving for apple trees.

Nothing stopped them this year;bait, repellents, sprays, electric fencing, noise, dog urine/scent, soaps,

perfumes. They killed 16 of our 40 trees.Many were killed outright. Several were damaged beyond

saving, and others had to be pruned to the point of questionable salvageability.

With a great deal of green plants and grass around, I still have no idea why they targeted the trees.

It was not for lack of available food and it makes me furious.  I removed the dead and dying and am not

replacing dead trees from here on out. The cost involved as well as the time, when there is no way to

mitigate this herd or the damage it causes, has become insane.

The garden was beyond the planning stage as was in full growing mode in the seeding shed as were

about a million other seedlings and planters that were part of a Mother's Day Sale.

The greenhouse wasn't quite ready to use. Through remote thermometers and a web camera,

I was able to keep an eye on conditions day and night. While we could reach over 100 degrees on a

sunny 40 degree day, nights below freezing, meant the greenhouse temps would come crashing down

too. As evening temperatures rose towards the end of the month, night temperatures in the greenhouse

would stabilize to equal that temperature and thereby temper the young plants and get them ready for life

in the real world. That is a GOOD thing. Roasting them in a sauna all day, was not.

While the roof did have two vents, the way they were built were NOT stable enough to be open in prairie winds. I made a stacking blocks for each corner of the window from 2x4s and a tie down system that is attached to the shelves below. This worked ok if the door was open, but when the door was shut to keep our marauding hens, warm air could rise, but with no openings to let in fresh air, this was limited movement. I needed a way to let in fresh air, but not rain. I had to wander the hardware store for a while, but I came up with a solution finally, dryer duct covers! I cut holes for the plastic covers using a razor knife and used silicone to seal around the hole, the screws, and the vent. To make a caps for the hole, to keep out colder air in the Spring and fall, I found test caps in the plumbing department that simply needed a tiny edge removed with the Dremel to fit easily. I added 6 of these vents. On a warm, sunny day, the greenhouse can still go well over 100 with all vents and door open. Next year I will be ready with an external shade to knock down solar radiation.

I was also not going to raise chicks again, ever. I don’t like it. It’s not my job. That job belongs to a big fat hen. However, due to last month’s disaster, and a very old rooster, I didn’t see any way around having to go out and find chicks and raise them myself. I found myself, again, at the farm store, staring into large stock tanks glowing red with heat lamps, and full of fluffy, peeping cuteness. I lost 14 hens, some of which were on the cull list for the summer due to perpetual illness or lack of productivity, but that’s loss on my terms, not some stupid Mink’s decision.  Hmmm, how many should I get?  Four hardly seemed a worthwhile number for the cost, effort, and mess involved. A dozen? Sure, why not? In for a penny, in for a pound. 

I came home with a chirpy box, set up the grow out pen, and kicked back and watched what we dubbed

‘the dirty dozen’.  There are three breeds; Barred Rock, Cinnamon (one of which turned out to be a

legbar mix), and Buff Brahmas.  It’s wasn’t until they were older, and I could tell them apart that they

were given their names; November, December, January, February (Barred Rocks as they are black and

sprinkled with snow);March, April, May (cinnamons as they are red with decreasing amounts of white on

them), June is the legbar and has a funny hairdo; July, August, September, and October are the Buffs

and have increasing amounts of black on their tails, but are ridiculously hard to tell apart. Doc just calls

them the Yellow Daisies as they look like our previous girl Daisy who was a white sussex. 

The alpacas were just happy to not have mud squishing between their toes.

Mud squishing everywhere else however, must have a different criteria. They know I don’t care, as long as they hold off on the mud packs the week before the shearing team comes. To them, a warm,breezy April day is heaven. They know it won’t be too long before April gives way to May and their year old fleece gets hot when the weather teases with 80 degree days and the humidity rises. Sun’s out, guts out.