September snuck in and slipped out.

    It is astonishing how quickly the months and days fly by upon reflection, but each day, at the moment, seems to drag.  Days were filled to overflowing with canning, preserving, drying, and projects. It was a hodgepodge month to say the least.  Many tiny things that felt like they added up to nothing, but all contributed to the greater need to finalize summer.  As always, for everyone thing that was managed, two or more things seemed to get added to the 'to do' list.

   

The garden was still full of tomatoes at the beginning of the month, but it was quickly showing signs of disease, stress, and of just being plain tired. The beans had long since given up, and were trimmed at the ground to let the remaining pods dry on the vine for next year's seed.  The tomatoes were also cut off at the ground to allow all remaining energy to go to finishing any ripening on the vine. Any fruit that showed signs of redness, were sent to the ripening counter and placed under towels to finish before being processed into marinara sauce and canned.  I left the zinnias alone, even though they were being overrun with prairie weeds, as the migrating hummingbirds were using them as an evening resting place and refueling station. I couldn't bare to take that away from them.

The dirty dozen pullets are now going strong, and it is not uncommon for us to collect 14-18 eggs a day from the hen house. It's an incredible number for only 20 laying hens this time of year. 

We've had so many eggs that I have decided to scramble and dehydrate them for the freezer, when light levels drop too low this winter for them to lay.  I've heard they aren't great for re-hydrating and eating, but perfect as a 1:2 ratio for baking (egg water). So we shall see.

Speaking of hen house, a long awaited project was finally completed, which added another to the list, but allows me to move on with yet another needed project that had to be done in order.  The northeast window wing on the chicken run, which was previously like its mate on the southwest wall-a wood frame with a plastic roofing panel as the window covering, was long overdue for replacement.  There was nothing structurally wrong with it. However, during the winter it allowed far too much air exchange at the roof line and both the bottom and the ends had to be insulated to prevent snow and wind ingress.  The insulation was permanent for the winter, and didn't do a banner job of keeping out the wind or the snow. 

I came up with a better, permanent solution.  A plywood wall with inserted windows.  The windows can be opened when the day is nice, and closed when it's not.  They are covered in tiny hardware cloth to protect the birds from predators.  The center window does not open.  I may decide later to build small over hangs for rainy days, and the blaze of the summer sun.  We shall see.

That project had to be finished before the main event could even be measured for.  The lower run needs a new roof.  The underlayment on one corner, which was a scrap of common board, has rotten and needs replaced.  The shingles, which were purchased for $1 a bundle at Habitat, have dry rotted, and routinely blow off in a good storm. I'm tired of chasing them.  So a new steel roof will go on as soon as I measure and place the order.  Then we wait for a nice day to install it.  But that window wall needed done first so I could custom order the proper length for overhang at the end.  

Wet cool days crept in on occasion as well.  It was a dry month, and warm, but at least it felt like Fall.  The clouds came, but not much ever came from them.  Thunder chased the dog into her hiding spots a few mornings, but very little moisture accompanied all the flash and bang. 

Speaking of the dog.  She is healing well. She has her achy days, but who doesn't?  She has her final post-op check-up in early October, so here's hoping they clear her for long walks in the squirrel park.  She naps so well after those.

Chilly mornings of late September, mean the beginning of field harvest season is upon us.  The wildlife starts to move from field to field as the turkey hunters lurk about and the combines gobble up row after row.  The heavy fog this time of year sits just below us in the morning, hiding all but the tops of the tallest trees in the valley. As the sun slowly rises, the air warms and slowly begins to move, causing the fog to look like a giant blanket being fluffed across a giant bed by an invisible hand, it's top rolling and undulating in the dawn. 

The nights are clear, crisp and still allowing for amazing views of the Milky Way.

All of this signals apple season.  As our own trees let us down, yet again, I went up to Martin's as I do every fall, a jar of fresh jelly and a dozen eggs in tow in exchange for tree help and information.  I spend several minutes filling my apple basket with a couple of choice varieties, and head home to process them into apple butter.  The best apples go into the bottom of the climate controlled (moisture controlled) drawer of the refrigerator for snacking. 

My favorite variety from this orchard is the Rosalee.  A tart, and sweet, apple that is great for fresh eating, does not do long term storage well, nor is it a good baking apple.  So fresh it is, with all of its glorious juice dripping down your arm.

By the end of the month the garden has had it, and quite frankly, so had I.  I'm tired of tending, weeding, plucking, canning, begging and pleading.  It's tired and I'm tired.  I trimmed the grape back as far as I dared and gave the bits to the grateful noodle necks.  Any tomatoes that showed any sign of whiting, were picked, wrapped, and placed in a ripening box in order or current ripeness. These are checked weekly and when enough are red, are processed and canned.  I should be doing tomatoes until the end of October.  The dehydrator has been running most days. Did you know you can put 10 pounds of diced onions into a quart jar?!  So far we have dried mixed veg, yellow onions, white onions, spring onions, jalapeno peppers, apples, and celery.

The cattle next door are doing nicely and greet us when they come up the hill on their daily circuit of their grazing grounds.  We still cannot figure out how one had a butterscotch colored calf.  She's a white face and daddy is a black Angus, or is supposed to be.  Nope, he's not an albino, or pigment challenged.

He's butterscotch and lemon marked like a Holstein.  We figure a neighbor's bull must have jumped the fence at some point.  He's a pretty little thing.

Nothing left to do but finish out the month by spreading alpaca manure, gypsum, and chicken manure on all the garden rows and locking the gate behind me. Next year's garden has been planned and the seeds ordered and delivered.

See you in October!

 

OODALOLLY!

We WON!

The Oodalolly Egghouse at DunRovin Station has won the Summer and Fall Coop Contest at BackYardChickens.com !

It was page design, instructions, documentation, and presentation contest.  The winning page can be seen here >>> Egghouse. Those of you out there that are starting a coop or have started a coop, start documenting it and write up and design your web page and enter the Winter and Spring contest!

It can be big and fancy, or small and practical !

Have fun doing it and share with others.  That's the whole point. :D

For those of you interested in chickens, it's an amazing, educational and supportive site all about poultry and other birds :D. Come join us!

You're Never Really DONE With Your Chicken Coop

Some things should never be finalized in either spoken or written form:

1. "I have plenty of chickens."(LOL, we all KNOW where that is going in a hurry. We're already talking about letting the first hen to go broody in February hatch a small batch of chicks, from our own eggs. But I'm not so far gone as to banish current broodies into chicken Jail. So there is hope for me yet!)

2. "I'm going to give up coffee/tea/soda/chocolate."  Uh huh. 

And the really big one...

3. "I am DONE building the chicken coop."

In a brief moment of overwhelming emotions, mixed with pure exhaustion, blood sweat and tears, we may, in a blind fit of stupidity, put our hands on our hips, puff up with pride, smile, and announce loudly to the world, " The CHCKEN COOP IS DONE!"

If you are truly lucky, the only ear things within earshot are those little fluffy butts scratching and pecking at the ground, and even THEY are quietly laughing at you.  A little higher up the scale would place your Significant Other, children, or possibly nosey neighbors in earshot.  Not knowing any better, they too will share in your misguided triumph.  At the top of the scale, you cannot possibly contain your enthusiasm and you take a million photos and (GASP) POST them online.  And not just anywhere online, you go to the nations largest Back Yard Chicken Forum, where you've been lurking and playing for months on end.

Sure, no one replies to your post, or says it outright, but all the other posters are thinking it. ... " Suuuuure you are."  Then they giggle to themselves, a little snort escaping their nose. 

That's where I'm at.  Sure I THOUGHT I was done with the coop.  Then I had to build the run.  Then the coop needed more ventilation.  Then it needed a fan.  Then it needed a summer perch.  The roosts needed rearranged.  I didn't have enough nest boxes.   The run needed a stronger roof.  The new roof needed a new waterproof cover.  Well as long as I was up there, wouldn't a rooster weather vane look adorable up there?  The girls needed a ladder to play on in the run.  The run door needed a drop pin to keep it from blowing in the wind (as much as I loved using logs, NOT!)  I wanted to try fermented feed, so I needed Doc to build me a trough.  The upper window needed a rain shield.  Lights, both in the run and the coop, needed installed.  A timer needed installed.  Another webcam needed installed. The list just keeps growing.

Back when Fall was at its peak, the lower angled sunlight caused me to realize the sunshield was blocking too much sun.  So a clear shield needed put up instead.  At this point I realized that, HOLY SMOKES, winter is JUST around the corner and I still need to Winterize the run!!  Small wood frames with shower curtains stapled to them would NOT cut it this year.  The wheels of thought and process kept me up nights trying to figure out what I was going to do to block the wicked prairie winds, yet allow air to flow and still keep out the snow.  It also had to be reusable and hearty. 


What I came up with is nothing short of brilliant. The same corrugated pvc panel that I used as a sun and rain shield on the upper windows also comes in clear.  It is easy to install, simple rubber washers and self tapping screws.  It also trims easily with scissors.  My plan was to use three long, 12 foot, panels to completely block off the north west side of the run, leave the south east short end totally open, and cover the lower 2/3rds of the north east wall. 

Of course as you work, your plans change as you go along.  I did cover the entire north west side, but decided to put one 2 foot tall panel along the bottom of the south east end.  This would block the wind at the chicken level should it happen to be blowing from that rare winter direction.  As I was putting up the north east panels, just before I put up the last, upper panel, I had a great idea.  Why not build a 2x4x12 frame and mount the panel to it, and hang it from the run on hinges?  Then I could prop it open on nice winter days for fresh air and close it on snowy/windy/rainy days as needed? 

Well that set off a whole set of projects, since you cannot just build a frame, you have to get the hardware (LOVE habitat for humanity RESTORE), then it needs props to keep it from blowing in the wind.  Then you find out that the wind on your hill is strong enough to lift a bull elephant and fly him like a kite, so a ridiculously heavy panel and frame is no problem.  But this will release the prop, which allows the panel to fall and slam shut, loudly.  Sigh, redesign.  But before I decided to redesign the props, I decided that the north west side of the coop would really benefit from a lift window as well.  More screws, more hardware, more custom cuts, more planning, another panel frame, more painting, and another trip into town.

I now had all of my supplies.  Doc made me yet another frame, which was now screwed, glued, and painted.  Now all I needed was a day where the wind was NOT howling.  I used one of those rare days to move 3200 pounds of hay, pitchfork by pitchfork, into the garden for the overwintering soil.  The location where I had the hay stored outside, was rich, black and WET! Even though we haven't had any real rain for almost 7 weeks. Composting at its finest.) Sure, I cannot feel my arms or my back, but as long as the earthworms are happy, isn't that what really matters?

I digress.

Today was the day.  Winter is coming.  There is a blizzard warning for the panhandle, and a high wind warning for the midlands, and as of this morning for the whole eastern side of the state.  It is just another reminder that the season waits for no one.  Today was almost 65', and the winds never made it past 25 mph.  It had to be today.  I got to work first thing in the morning.  The panels on their frames and hinges were already up, and their end locks were installed.  I still needed to install the extra panel supports, and figure out how on earth to make and fit the props.  To make matters MORE interesting, each one was a different size.  But once I got the design down, it was just a matter of adjusting the size.



I installed pieces of 2x4 on hinges that can be flipped up out of the way, the panel dropped and locked when the winds or weather come.  On fair days, you can flip them down and lock them into place with a clip to keep the winds from lifting and dropping the panels.  A bonus is that they, the top window panels, can stay up all year!  They will act as extended rain shields for the run. 

Of course no project is adventure free, and mine certainly are no exception.  My two sets of roofing screws needed two different hex heads.  I had two different types of screw heads going, Phillips and star.  I kept needing more screws, or different screws.  Wood pieces needed multiple trips to the drop saw.  I can't tell you how many trips I made from the barn to the coop.

In the midst of all this are the fluff butts, including a rooster who as an odd attachment to my shoes. I had hens laying eggs, and as we ALL do, I put them in my shorts pocket.  At one point, while removing a stubborn screw, the screw stayed and the wood spun counterclockwise.  Yup, you guessed it, slamming right into my pocket - the one full of eggs.  UGH.  Needless to say, this required a wardrobe change.

 

 

Mishap over.  All the props were installed.  The hens were wandering the hayfield and the run and I heard the egg song again.  So I stepped out of the run and was walking towards the coop door.  Simple right?  Two strides to the left, turn and four strides and up the stairs into the coop.  UH HUH.  Two strides left, and WHAMMO! Full force, smack in the nose, right into the window panel wing I had JUST installed, and forgotten about.  Oh ya, stars.  I saw stars.  Pretty, pretty, sparkly stars.

My sunglasses frame took the full brunt of it.  They are flex frames, so they didn't break, but the forward momentum of a human into a 2x4 frame attached to a concrete anchored coop simply refused to move, so the frame was shoved into the bridge of my nose.  Did I mention I saw stars?  I cannot remember.  Now my nose is puffy and stuffy and bruised. But the coop is DONE!

OH wait! No, I did NOT say that out loud!

The Build - Part 6

By now it's early March.  The Earth is starting to shake off it's winter blues, the days are getting noticeably longer, the days are getting warmer.  Heck, a couple of work days even made it into the 60, and I had to trade my winter coat, for a jacket, and loose the jacket and trade the jeans for shorts.

The on and off blizzards, cold spells, and snow storms were finding it harder and harder to keep a firm hold on the passing season and began to give up altogether. 

As the ground began to really thaw, my thoughts drifted to the non-existent garden and getting that project under way.  I was tired of the build.  The girls were tired of their little coop.  So I let them out to play while I worked. (By now we had purchased a 1962 massey ferguson mf204 tractor and I started tormenting the sod for the garden.)

Just look at the survey crew in action.  Ya, black compost soil and a white chicken.  I didn't think that through.  But she had SO much fun.
 When I didn't work, I planned or shopped.  Because every coop needs bling.


 And honestly, to borrow from Ferris Beuller, "who could possibly expect me to handle work on a day like this?!"

LOL.

Coop Décor.  I found these great metal rooster and hen cut outs at Hobby lobby and spray painted them white, and lagoon blue and attached them.  I also picked up solar deck lights to illuminate the steps, pop door, people door, and back metal art/window.  I purchased locking jars at a closeout store for mealworms, and coopouri (which I make and might make available to others), and chick grit.  I also found large, metal, red sugar and flour canisters which fit on the exposed studs inside to hold grit and calcium for refilling the PVC supply tubes.

More than anything, I felt like I was puttering on the project.  I still had a deadline.  Remember, I had birds coming.  But I also felt like I had Spring fever.  Remember that from school days?  Your heart just isn't into it anymore, but you keep putting one foot in front of the other.  Funny thing that.  Usually that feeling makes you want to get OUTSIDE and play, but I WAS outside, all day, everyday! LOL. 

Worse than Spring fever though, I caught the dreaded chicken fever!  Chick fever to be precise.  It's a horrible thing all chicken people get.  You don't know when it will strike, but it's usually in February to Mid March.  You'll be minding your own business, walk into the feed store and hear that tiny little "CHEEP, CHEEP" from deep within a store.  Like a nursing mother who can tell in a room full of babies, her own child's cry, you hone in on those giant metal tubes full of cute little, fluffy, wittle, teeny, poofballs.  AGH! I blame my hen Merriweather.  She chose March to go broody.  The sweetest, cutest, sit on your hand, doll of a hen, turned overnight into something that would make Freddie Kruger curl into a ball behind a door and start weeping and sucking his thumb. 

Having no rooster at the time, I thought I'd swap her eggs out for 5 cute little chicks.  She's have none of that.  So I ended up raising 5 fluff butts, dealing with a hormonal hen sitting on fertilized eggs I bought from another friend up the road (Thank you Frank!), and trying to finish this build.

"Here a chick, there a chick, everywhere a chick, chick", now has new meaning to me. I had the main coop (still under construction), the small coop, a broody coop, and a chick coop all going at once.  I was wondering if I was starting to loose my sanity.  (Who am I kidding?  It was gone long ago.)

March is also burning season.  Usually it comes the first decent evening of the year.  You know the one, you can finally crack your windows open for a night's sleep, breathing in that cool, crisp refreshing air, until a skunk -"fresh" out of hibernation wanders by your window at 3am?  Ya, that day.  So it's finally warm enough to open windows during the day and it's burning time.  Farmers burn the stubble in their fields, their rubbish piles, their piles of old trees and shrubs from pasture cleaning, and burn their pastures.  Prairie grass thrives on fire.  It is far more healthy for the grasslands to let it grow for a few years, and then let fire fly through and burn out all of the old grass and thatch that has built up.  Within a week, you can't even tell an area has been burned.  It comes up that fast, and new and fresh.  It was doing it naturally LONG before people were here.  The benefit now is that YOU set the time it burns.  Usually, you pick a nice day, with little or no wind and go for it.  Usually. 

You know that feeling when you are on the way home and you see fire trucks, and you say to yourself, "don't turn, don't let them turn..." and then they turn towards your place?  Ya, not a good feeling.  That happens a lot here.  Wild fires happen.  Accidents happen. Controlled burns get out of control.  One day, coming back home I saw black smoke rising from the neighbor's pasture.  He was clearing, when he hit a rock with the loader bucket and set half the acreage afire.  Another day, I was working on the coop and kept brushing snowflakes from my hair and eyeglasses, before I remembered it was 65 and I was in shorts.  The flakes were ashes from a wildfire on the next acreage. 

The state has been in drought so many years that fire is common, and dangerous, and unpredictable.  Like I said in an earlier post, the Universe has a sense of humor.