Something's Missing

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To Ten Million Fireflies

I'm Weird 'Cause I Hate Goodbyes

I Got Misty Eyes As They Said Farewell

"Fireflies" by Owl City, 2009

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At my Grandparents farm (Hilda and Bernard) or going camping, I marvelled at the firefly. As a little kid chasing the magical pale green flash there was an excitement. As an adult sitting on my porch watching the fireflies green beacon float intermittently over my lawn there's a sense of calm the accompanies childhood memories. As a grandma I pointed out fireflies to my grandkids and watched them light up with amazement as the fireflies put on their early evening show.

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In the last two years, I haven't seen one firefly. Not one. And I've been looking. Apparently fireflies are disappearing worldwide. There's even a Firefly Watch program. The usual culprit is to blame - Man. I have learned that loss of habitat and light pollution is likely to blame for the declining numbers. I miss the fireflies and I'm going to try to see if there's anything I can do to help them make a comeback in my little part of the world. I hope that sweet, peppy innocent song I quoted at the top isn't sadly prophetic.

Bonkers for Basil

Nothing like a big bowl of freshly picked basil, it positively defines "fragrant".

My basil is growing wonderfully this year. I could say it's growing like weeds but after six years of gardening, this particular saying has lost all its appeal for me. I selected a seed pack that had a variety of basil types; regular, Thai, Vietnamese and a few others. Some look like little bushes and have smaller leaves, some are purple, all are tasty and scented beautifully. The great thing about having rabbits is that the basil never gets a chance to flower; I'm always taking the tops off to add to the rabbit greens. The plants thrive and become sturdy and bushy. The basil with the smaller leaves are perfect for the rabbits because they love to eat the stems as well as the leaves.

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A few youngsters and a Mama enjoying basil. Mama is insisting they share.

A couple of days I ago, I figured I better harvest some for the humans before the rabbits ate it all. I love using fresh basil and it's a simple task to preserve it. I do so much drying that drying space is at a premium around here. I could freeze it on cookie sheets then bag it for later use. But I have to freeze it whole and use it whole but usually I don't want whole leaves in my sauces and stews. Thawed out whole basil no appeal at all, it fact, it's downright yucky... and slightly slimy so chopping it is not anything I want to do. I could mince it all up, add a little water and freeze it in ice cube trays. That works fine but it tends to spit and spittle when added to a hot pan. Luckily I came across an idea in one of my herb books that takes this method one step further and the result is just perfect for me. I mince up the basil in the food processor and then drizzle in olive oil as the basil spins. I add enough oil to make a runny paste. Then I freeze it in ice cube trays for a couple of days then transfer the cubes (freed from the cold confines of the trays) to a freezer bag, label it and I'm done lke dinner. When I'm frying or making sauces, stews, etc., I throw in a frozen cube for instant flavour in the pan! Tasty and simple make such a nice pairing, especially over spaghetti!

Fragrant memories of summer in the making! An ice cube tray of basiled oil ready for the freezer.

Chicken Management or ARRRGGG!!!!!!

I've never had so many issues with chooks before. Last year, I raised a bunch, stuck 'em in the main coop when they got old enough and come fall, ate the roosters and had more laying hens. With the exception of the Timbits Drama, everything was honky-dory. This year, nobody is co-operating with me. I swear, they get together in little groups brainstorming how to make my life miserable, I can just hear them...."OK, you two will get out and hide in the corn. You over there, act like a hen and then when she's sure you're female, CROW! Hahaha, cackle, cackle, cackle, gafaw, gafaw, gafaw."

Here they are, plotting against me, I'm sure the two with their heads down are in cahoots!

I got a few different types of birds this year and may-be that is what is adding to the challenges but I don't see why. I mean a chicken is a chicken, right? Apparently not. I tried to get breeds that are very mellow and calm but I guess personality trumps genetics every now and then.

I really like having green eggs so I got six Americauna eggs plus two day old chicks and three or four Americauna mixes from my own Leah. And out of the twelve, I might have two females! Arrrggg!

I'm pretty sure this little Americauna cross is a female. (please, please, please!!!)

I decided to get other laying hens, too so I ordered six from the feed store. Good thing I did, considering the male Americana fiasco. I think these hens are hybrids. They will lay brown eggs. They're very mellow and not shy at all. While they are smaller than the dual purpose chickens, they get along famously with everybody. And the best thing about them, I know they're hens because that's what I ordered.

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The laying hens colouring differs by shade of brown and the amount of white. It is kind of nice, adds a little pizazz to the coop. `

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Another breed new this year is Delaware. They're a duel purpose bird, said to be very mellow and sweet. Ha!!! Not when compared to my wonderful Partridge Chanticlers and Buff Orpingtons. A couple of the roos have real attitude. They are a pretty bird, though; white with black speckles on the tail and around the neck.

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Here's one doing his early morning calisthenics. Don't ask me why, I don't have a clue.

Some Delawares have lots of black speckles. I think this one is a female...may-be...perhaps.

Others barely have any speckles. But they're still growing so that might change.

The big issue right now is the cockerels being jerks. Last year they just hung together being jerks only when the opportunity arose. This year, they're constantly at each other and chasing the hens relentlessly. No-one has gotten seriously injured yet but I think it's coming and that is something I want to avoid at all costs. So I'm trying to separate these teenagers according to sex but it's difficult for me still. I think someone is a male, stick him with the other males and then it's obvious he's a she, put her back with the pullets and ~voila~ she turns back into a he. They're doing it on purpose, I'm sure of it.

Here's two Ameriacaunas and one Americauna cross (the brown one). I'm pretty sure the two very impressive and pretty silver/black ones are males. The cross looks like a male when it is with the ladies, it struts and chases them. But next to males, it looks kind of heny.

So I spent the better part of a morning re-arranging the chooks again. I don't think it's perfect but it seems to be very much improved. Almost no squabbling and the pullets are much more relaxed and happy. I put the biggest, toughest teenage roos in the big coop where the adults will keep them in line. They are adjusting to life in the 'big house' well so far. So it's just a matter of watching closely and continue to be on the alert for chickens changing sex just for the amusement of seeing me go insane.

I can't tell you what sex either of these two are but I'm pretty sure the one on the left is a cat.

Chicken Coop Cat

I really wish people would neuter/spay their pets. More than that, I wish people would clean up their own irresponsible mess instead of dumping it in my chicken coop. Ticks me off. OK, enough of the belly aching, besides ranting rarely helps anything (just ask Mel Gibson).

A couple of weeks ago I went into the coop and found this little guy asleep with the baby chickens. I have no idea how he'd get in there. Both people doors were closed, the only way in would be through the chicken door which would lead him to the main coop, not the baby chick area. And he would have had another door to contend with, not to mention a gate and fence to get to the area I found him in. Irregardless of how he got there, there he was. The chicks were perfectly fine with him there, not bothered at all.

While the kids and I were discussing what to do, he woke up. I went to reach for him and got attitude all wrapped up in hisses, teeth and claws. He was small and probably couldn't do much damage but wimpy me went and got yard gloves anyhow. When this little cat realized I was reaching for him, he tried to get away. He stood up, wavered, took a couple of unsteady steps and fell over. Picking him up was like picking up a small fur covered wire hanger, my hand swallowed him up. I made a little box for him on our front porch. I fed him wet cat food, I thought he was too young for it but I had nothing else. He ate it and had a nice long nap. For the next week or so he didn't do much but eat and sleep ... and hate me.

And hate me he did. Ran away every time and I had to catch him to feed him. He'd spit and hiss when I finally cornered him and I'm pretty sure he used swear words when I picked him up. After a few days, he would make himself known to me, meowing and coming out of hiding but would still run when I went to pick up. But he wouldn't run far and would allow himself to be picked up. I started petting him as he ate so he'd get used to it. He purrs now when I pick him up and likes to be petted. But I can still see him fight the urge to scamper away when he sees me coming and sometimes the urge still wins.

I can't have another indoor cat. Whisk hates all cats and has chased this one already. I am trying to find him a good home but that is not likely. I won't give him to anyone not willing to have him altered. He's obviously feral and is never going to be a cute and cuddly pet. So far, no-one would bother to have a barn cat altered. I'd be lucky to find someone who'd actually feed a barn cat on a regular basis. But I'll keep looking.

In the short while he's been here, he's improved immensely. He has a little kitty-cat round tummy now. He's doubled in size and barely fits into my cupped hands. He's learned the basics of keeping his face and paws (and hopefully other areas) clean. I thought he was about 2 weeks old when we found him but he might have been older; maybe he was just really small because he was starved.

Two days ago, I started feeding him in the chicken coop storage area. I left the door open so he could leave when he wanted to. But he didn't leave. He's very happy in the coop. Whisk won't go near the coop and that solves the dueling kitty problem. So that's where he'll live. If he's still around when he's older (and a lot tamer), I'll take him to the vets for shots and ultimately get him fixed. I really don't want another cat but it looks like I have one.

Garden Update 2010

What a difference a month makes! Dolly is now surrounded by lush green growing things while a scant month ago she was surrounded by dull brown earth. Side Note:Funny thing about Dolly, everyone loves her! My neighbours all have made a point to tell me wonderful she is and I've had more that one tourist stop and take pictures of her!

Back to the garden topic. Unfortunately, it isn't as good as I made it sound. My garden was very late into the ground and that is only one of the issues. I'd say in the five or six years I've had a garden here, this is the worst one yet. Which is surprising because last year, it was terrific! There's so many problems that I have to make a list:

• Carrots. By far the biggest disappointment. I planted them in the area I let go fallow last year. This area was totally built up with compost, rabbit manure and worm castings so I was expecting great things. I planted 6 packets of seeds and the result may-be 10 carrot tops in the whole area. I have no idea why. By the time I figured my carrots were a no-show (I kept hoping they'd pop up), it was practically mid-July. So I re-planted in another area of the garden. I decided to get baby carrot seeds because their grow time to maturity is faster. They took their sweet time but they are growing now. I was talking to my neighbours about this and some of them have wonderful carrots and others have the same problem I did. One woman actually had to re-plant three times. Next year I'll put the carrot/bean combo in the lasagna garden. The beans I planted with the carrots, while a little sporadic (something likes to eat the occasional bean plant right down to the nub when they are very, very young seedlings) are doing fine.
• Corn. As already mentioned in a previous post, the corn seeds were raided. When I replanted them, I sowed very heavily and I planted the seeds deeper than usual. They did come up, again sporadically, and much less than expected considering how many were planted. I ended up transplanting some of the baby corns I had planted for shade in front of the chick run. I think the corn will be late but I should get some.
• Snow Peas. They're just plain late because of the corn. I do the three sisters method of planting snow peas with the corn. The corn stalks provide natural trellises for the snow peas to grow on and, in return, the snow peas attach nitrogen to their roots to give the corn extra nutrients. But I have to wait until the corn is about 4 - 6 inches high before planting the peas. So while everyone else is picking the fresh tender pods off their plants, I just look at my stubby 4 - 6 inch plants and sigh.

But all is not all wreck and ruin in the garden. My cucumbers are almost ready to be picked. The lettuce and beets are lovely. All my herbs; dill, basil, parsley and cilantro, are great. The onions are robust and the tomato plants have green tomatoes all over the place. I'm going to put the tomato/basil combo in the built up area next year and see what happens. I also have my 'pop ups' all over the place, a little dill and tomatoes in the most unlikely places. Believe it or not, I even have some potatoes springing up, from what I believe to be potato peels and didn't compost fast enough. Whether or not I get potatoes from them is yet to be seen. All my pumpkins this year, except for the naked pumpkin, are from pop ups. I didn't plant zucs because I still have a load frozen from last year. My raspberry crop was terrific!

Speaking of compost, that might have been pushed a little faster that usual because I was so late. I won't do that again. Another thing is that the garden never got its boost of comfrey tea because the barrel I use is being used elsewhere this year.

Things to do for next year:

• Row covers for the corn and may-be the beans.
• Barrel for comfrey.
• Get Dolly up before planting the corn.
• Get off my butt and plant earlier.
• Keep the faith.

Chicken Antics - The Good, The Bad and the Downright Annoying

Silly Timbits

When I walked into the coop this morning, I found Timbits in a nest box. Ah, that happens on occasion. The fact she lays at all amazes me, considering all she's been through. As I do my chores and general chicken management (with four different chicken sections and a sub-section within a section, chicken management becomes a skill to be honed). About half way through, Timbits informs me that her egg has been laid. This is done by clucking loudly and generally making an unearthly noise. So I go check because she'll keep up that metal-buckets-falling-down-concrete-stairs racket until I do. So I peek in the nest box where she was setting... Ha! Nice try, Timbits! I know that is not your egg because it's too big and it's GREEN. Only Leah lays green eggs.

You's a silly hen, Timbits.

Duck and SilverWing

Duck, on the left, and SilverWing, on the right, came from the same set of eggs, set under the same hen and hatched at the same time. Despite the unexplained size difference, they hang together all the time, you can't see one without seeing the other. They're both Americaunas and I'm hoping they are females, which is why I call them Duck and SilverWing. If I knew they were roosters, I'd call 'em Grimli and Legolas.

There's Always One in the Bunch...

I planted corn, sunflowers and snowpeas in front of the chick run to provide some shade for the little guys. There's always one that can manage to find a way out and eat all the snowpea vines, shred the corn leaves and tug on the sunflowers, generally causing wreck, ruin and mayhem. Well satisfied with himself, he looks around and panics because he realizes he can't get back into the run. Catching panicked mayhem is becoming my specialty and a vital part of my chicken management program.

My Poor Trees

A windy day is great, usually. It keeps the bugs, heat and humidity to a minimum and I get lots of work done. But sometimes the wind gets way too high and confident and it decides to take on my trees. Sometimes the trees win but sometimes they don't. After years of doing battle with the winds and the seasons a tree will finally succumb and lose a large bough or even collapse completely.

I was in garden trying to convince the weeds I had the upper hand when I heard the all too familiar sound of the splitting of wood accompanied by a groan as the branch let go. I went to investigate and found that a trunk of a tree had split right where it forks, way up high. It was a big bough, if planted, it would have looked like a well established tree.The only reason it hadn't fallen was because other branches were holding it up. If those smaller, sturdier branches hadn't been able to keep the branch up, it would have crashed into the roof but not before bringing down our electrical wire with it. Sigh, time to call the tree topper.

So the tree topper came and looked around and decided there were a few trees that needed trimming and one that needed to come down. All things I knew but chose to ignore. I love my trees. They are big and leafy and offer the greatest shade ever. Things are cooler under the trees the way air conditioning could never match. The trees are guardians and protectors of the homestead. When we were looking for a place, we saw oodles and oodles of farms with acres of land and not a tree in sight. I didn't realize what was missing until we saw this place: Trees, Large, established, flourishing, glorious trees.

This house was built around 1885 so I'm figure some of these trees must be closing in on being a century old. The house needed major repair and there was a lot less land then we would have liked, but it had the most magnificent trees. So when one breaks or falls, the sound of the pistol shot crack of wood breaking away reverberates in my heart. As I have said, I love my trees and hate to see one succumb to age and wind.

The tree topper was willing to do the work and to chop and block the wood. The price was actually about the same as what we would have paid for the wood if we were buying it for the furnace. He said he'd come Tuesday. Islanders are a dear lot, they do the work well and go the extra mile cheerfully. What they aren't are timely, they'll say "Tuesday" but fail to mention what week or month (or year) the Tuesday is in. So Tuesday came and went, so did the next and next and next. We weren't surprised. After a month or so,we figured we'd give him a little reminder and he was here within the week.

So my trees are topped, trimmed or taken down completely. In other words, butchered. I do take comfort in knowing what remains is stronger. And I don't have to worry about one falling on the house for a while. I love my trees, but I love my house too.

And that wind which proved to be too much for my tree? Well, it brought clouds and rain and generally a miserable day. And then it left a gift for my eyes and my heart right above of two of my beloved trees.