Empty Nest Syndrome

I wrote a little while ago about finding a bunch of eggs and thinking I had a broody hen or two. You can read about that here. Well, Mocha sat on the eggs for two days and I thought everything was hunky-dory. On the third day, she got off the nest and started pacing by the fence to get out. She kept it up all day so that night I let her go back to the main coop. I figured if the eggs were cooled for 24 hours, they were toast anyhow. Out of the eight eggs, I was able to use 3 or 4 in baking, they passed the water test. The others were iffy so I didn't used them. Out of the eight, seven had no sign starting life. One had a little cobwebby blood threads may-be a quarter inch long. A disappointment for sure, but valuable lessons learned and I know much more about broodiness, half -broodiness and stubbornness passing as broodiness.

Seedlings, the Good, the Bad and the Utter Failures

I have planted everything I wanted to start early indoors. It's been an experience, to say the least. Surprises abound and hopes dash against the reality of trying to push Nature. The best success so far as been the tomatoes I saved from seed. I didn't think I'd have much luck with them but after a straggly start, they are strong, upright and bushy. The ones I transplanted into juice containers are doing well, so are the ones I didn't transplant so I know now I don't have to transplant to make them less straggly. The celery is slow, as expected. But I am seeing the first real leaves on them now, lacy scalloped leaves just delicately edging the dark earth with green. The herbs, basil, cilantro, summer savory and parsley are all going at their own time table and looking good. Basil, of course, was out of the starting gate first. Bursting through and stretching as fast and long it could. I've always found basil to be such a joyful plant. There's just something about basil that light and happy. I planted a mix of basil seeds so along with the little green sprouts, I also have purple. Nice little surprise. The cucumber seeds I bought are doing well, if not a little leggy right now. A sturdy seedling, stout and squat, I'm hoping with a little more light, they'll outgrow their stretch.

The green/red pepper seeds I saved did nothing, nor did the cucumber seeds I kept. Turns out they needed to be saved differently that I did, which was basically sitting them on a plate till they dried. Cucumber seeds have to be saved pretty much the same way as I did the tomatoes. Pepper seeds shouldn't be collected until the pepper is as close to the rotting stage as possible. For fun, I bought an early hybrid small watermelon seed to try. Only three sprouted and then two died. I'm guessing I did something wrong there, too.

We're hoping to get the cold frames built this weekend then I can start hardening off the plants. I've already started raking and putting on compost on the garden, waking it up so I put my dreams into action.

Nifty Idea Extended

Sometimes I am inspired by an idea so much that new and wonderful applications occur to me. Usually starts with a thought along the lines of, "Well, this is really working well, what if I make it bigger and better..." Taking an idea and running with it is something I do quite often. Sometimes it works out really great, other times...well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

I started my herbs from seeds this week and quickly ran out of window sill. So I thought of the frame of that little portable greenhouse I have. I got that out of the garage, re-homed a bunch of spiders to the compost (they'll be happier there) and stuck its wheels on. And then inspiration hit me. Line it with aluminum foil just like I did with the boxes. It holds a lot of flats (plus a spider plant that got displaced when I commandeered the window) and is fairly stable. Rolls nicely, too. Just turn it around, open the curtains and push it in place.

There is an unforeseen result I didn't even think of (that usually happens with my grand schemes). With all that aluminum foil glittering in the windows, it looks like either I'm trying to protect myself from alien transmissions or I got me a grow-up going there. EEK!

Who Knew Chickens Played April Fools?

Well, those little feathery tricksters sure pulled one over on me. I went out to look for eggs this morning. A little Buff Orpington just couldn't wait to get out of the coop proper and head over to the "brooding area" which is empty. She seemed a little frantic, which was weird but I didn't think much of it. On occasion, I will find a chicken over there, just checking things out. I collect the eggs in the coop and on my way out, I check the Buff in the brooding area but I can't see her...ANYWHERE. I could hear her, but couldn't see her. So I went in for a closer look. That's the brooding area in the picture above. With the exception of the butt-end of a chicken in the lower right hand corner (some hens will do anything to be a star), do you see any chickens in there? Neither do I.

So I started snooping and there, squished in between the top and bottom straw bales, I found her. I also found a mixed hen, too. The Buff was enthusiastically pecking her on the head trying to make her move. O.K., now this is getting odd. So I reach under the mix, who I believe to be Mocha to see if there was an egg. There was ten. Ten I knew nothing about because it never occurred to me that a hen, much less two, would wedge themselves between two straw bales to lay eggs. There's Mocha after I chased away the head poking Buff Orpington.

Now I have a nest of eggs in the most unlikely and unsuitable places and possibly two broody hens. GACK!!! Funny how this situation was never mentioned in any books or any conversations I ever had about chickens. "Oh, and by the way, Marn; (or Marnie, or Marian, or Dumb-Dumb)make sure you don't make any cool hidy-holes that would be totally impractical for brooding hens 'cause that's exactly where they'll pick for raising their chicks. Until, of course, the chicks hatch, fall off the bale and break their itty-bitty necks." Double GACK!!!

That's the cache of eggs I knew nothing about. There's twelve, not ten. On top of everything else, I can't count when surprised. Well, I have to do something but I have no idea what. So I'll start with the easiest and work my way up (or down, whatever). I definitely have to close off that broody area so no chicken can get in or out. That I solved by using an S hook to close the top part of the fence where the chickens were getting in. The thing is, I don't know about leaving the eggs on that bale, it seems precarious to say the least if those eggs hatch. I looks like I may have two broody hens. Of the two, Mocha is totally in broody mode. She's cranky, she's pecky and when I pick her up, she turns into a boneless pile of rags. The Buff is running around, eating and generally being a normal chicken. So I figure she was just hoping to add another egg to the clutch and let another hen have the fun of hatching them. So I put her back in the flock. There's no way that Mocha can set twelve eggs, it's a bit much. I have learned that eight eggs seem to be a good number for a hen Mocha's size. So I take seven of the eggs and put them in my pocket. The other five I put in a new nest area that I have packed with straw all around to make it cozy and secure and on the floor. I remove the top bale, opening up the area where Mocha is setting making it not so attractive to her. I transfer Mocha to the new nest area. She protests a bit but then she sees the eggs and goes in and settles. I take the seven eggs in and test them to see how fresh they are. If you put an egg in a bowl of water, a fresh one will sink, a 'rotten' one will float to the top and a so-so one will stand on end. So I decide to give her the so-so ones since chances are there's a chick developing in them. I had a whole escapade with weird broody hens last season and did the whole egg water thing, the eggs that stood on end or floated did hatch. The four fresh ones I kept to put in the incubator that will be started this Saturday (more on that in another post; one long, convoluted story at a time). I went back to the brooding area to give Mocha the eggs. Now I intended to take the other five and do the water test so she'd have eggs roughly the same age but I decided against it. She'd been through a lot of turmoil, being pecked on the head, being moved, have eggs taken then replaced, and I thought I had pushed it about as far as I could.

So Mocha now has eight eggs under her and hopefully she'll stay on the nest and in three weeks I'll see if anything hatches or if this was nothing more than an elaborate April Fool's Joke these two hens 'hatched' up. "Hey, I know," Says Mocha to Buffy, "Let's hide a bunch of eggs on her and then on April Fool's, we'll let her find them. That'll be a fine joke. And messing with her head is just a bonus."

Nifty Idea

I got this great idea from another blogger, Gina (Home Joys). One of the biggest issue I have with seedlings is trying to make sure they get enough light. I put them in the sunniest window sills and hope for the best. I also have to turn them around a lot as they reach for the sun. By simply covering a cut out box with aluminum foil and placing the plants on it I'm hoping that the plants will get more light. I'm sure they don't mind that it is reflected light. I hope it works well. If nothing else, it will keep the cat from taste-testing the young plants!

Hidden Sunshine

I woke up to rather grey and miserable day. You can't tell in this picture but it's raining. If I look closely enough, I can spot the occasion snow flake swirling around in between the raindrops. I'm making a point of not looking real close. The DaM is full of fury and promise as the spring run-off makes an appearance. The wind is not so much blowing as it is snarling around the porch posts and through the tree branches.

Ah well, these days happen, so upwards and onwards. The unwelcome rain will help dislodge the even more unwelcome snow patches stubbornly squatting in the low lying areas. There'll be lots of sunny days to be outside I tell my itchy feet and longing heart (geez, that sounds like something Billy Ray Cyrus would sing about =0). Besides, there's a whole bunch of things I can do indoors that will complement the run-of-the-mill chores...I just have to find them.


The first order of the day, then, will be to start a fire. There's nothing like a good, brisk fire to take the chill and damp out of the day. So I hunt around looking for a few juniper logs to start the furnace. I love the smell of burning juniper.

As the house gets warm and cosy I make a few phone calls. My dear neighbour is in the hospital and I want to hear how she's doing. Nobody's answering; well, he's probably over at the hospital visiting with her. Another call is more productive and I get the low-down on all the doings in and out of our area. This isn't gossip, you understand, it's just news the papers don't see fit to print :P. It's nice connecting with people when the day is dreary, it adds a brightness.

I discover the very first shoots of my celery seeds spearing through the earth. They look so delicate! Barely discernible to the naked eye, they are on the thinnest of stems and the two leaves look like pin-pricks. I don't mind looking real close to spy pale green shoots. I also discover a couple of watermelon shoots. They're big and bold and basically shouting to the world, "We're HERE, we're HERE!!! Let the bells ring out and cheering start 'cause WE'RE HERE!!!" Deafening joy without a sound.

So the day goes. The the kids tromp in and supper needs to be made. It's a perfect day for comfort food so I whip up a rabbit stir fry with fluffy mashed potatoes and dipping sauce. So for a grey day, it was awfully sunshiny around here.

They're Coming Along!...sort of, with a little help.

My tomato plants germinated in a rather hap-hazard fashion. Gee, there's a surprise. Everything around here tends to be on the hap-hazard side. I guess that's what happens when you really don't know what you're doing but you have an inkling. Projects aren't a total failure but they're not a rousing success either; they do tend to work out in the end... sort of, if I don't kill them trying to 'help' them. If we didn't call our place 'The DaM Farm', the 'Hap-Hazard Homestead' or 'The Inkling Way' would have been good alternatives of even 'If We Don't Kill It, We'll Make It Stronger'.

The tomatoes plant are tall but scraggly. Which is an improvement over spindly, when I think about it. Both the Beefsteak and the Heritage seedlings grew the fastest. The Romas had one or two sprouts and I was pretty sure they were a lost cause. However, I've noticed a bunch of new sprouts in the last week or so and they are not spindly/scraggly at all (yet). May-be it's just the type of plant or may-be the seeds were inadvertently planted deeper. I don't know but it's something to muse over for the next year or so. The Beefsteaks and Heritages were both spindly at first. I got some excellent advice, gently run your washed hands over the plants a couple of times a day. Apparently it strengthens the stems. It certainly worked for me. My plants started standing up and growing straight(er). But they are scraggly and they're out-growing the flats they're in so I figured I'd help them along. Hopefully my good intentions won't be the death of them.

Yesterday I transplanted some. Of course, I started with my beautiful, home-grown worm castings (yes, I do make a fuss about them and mention them as much as I can but only because they have been one of the very few rousing successes). I just harvested four bags, about 13 - 15 pounds. I mixed the castings in with the earth at about a 1 or 2 parts castings per 10 parts earth ratio. I had to buy the earth because all my compost is still frozen solid. I'm kind of thinking that I should bag some compost in the fall and keep it inside. But let's not go there right now; I really don't want to be planning fall activities when Spring is set to cover the land in colour, warmth and dreams.

`

Once I had the earth mixed, I got all my collected containers ready. I basically kept anything I thought would work. I needed tall, narrow containers and frozen juice cans seemed to fit the bill well. Another lovely piece of advice I received was burying the seedling right up to their first, false leaves when transplanting This will make the plant sturdy and less straggly (and a lot shorter). So I did that. My biggest fear here is that with the roots right on the bottom, it will be difficult to know when they need to be watered. I noticed with the couple of plastic containers I used (ran out of juice cans), it's easy to see the water trickle down. Or may-be what I should have done was take the bottoms off and put screen or newspaper on instead. May-be with the next flats. This is one of the reasons I started with the Beefsteak seedlings, I have two flats of those so I figured I'd try one and see what happens. If they do ok, I'll transplant the others. If they die, well I have another flat of them so not all is lost (ah, there's another apropos name for our place).

So here they are, all set for a sunny window. They looked a little droopy right after being transplanted but that usually happens so I wasn't too concerned. Today, they are all very upright, happy looking little plants. So far so good :) (Another name that would work well if we didn't already call this place The DaM Farm).