That’s No Chicken

by Chicken Wrangler Sara

I was working at my computer this week when I caught a glimpse of something out the front window.  At first glance it appeared that a chicken was in the road. (Was it trying to cross?  If so, why?)

I got up and started toward the door, wondering if it was one of ours chicks or another stray chicken (see You’re not My Chicken! You’re a Snort.)

About that time a car drove by and the bird took flight.

It looked like a small plane – huge wingspan.  It was a turkey vulture.  It flew to the roof across the street then waited in the yard for a while.

Eventually it flew away.

Yesterday the grandmother of a piano student was waiting in the driveway and said she saw some huge birds circling the back yard.  I sure hope it wasn’t the turkey vulture and his friends.  Chickens I will wrangle but I draw the line at turkey vultures.

Mythbusting on Miller Farm

By Chicken Wrangler Sara

There are many things I have been told throughout my life that I have come to realize are just not true.  For example, I’ve always thought that a bee can only sting someone once and then it dies.  I learned this weekend that is a myth.

We had an unusually warm day on Saturday so the bees thought it was Spring and  were out gathering pollen. One of the hives sits on the back porch right next to the path I take to the chicken coop.  During the real Spring, I alter my path so as not to disturb the bees. This being February, I didn’t think about walking around the busy bees.

Halfway to the chicken yard I felt a sting on my back. I instinctively reached back to brush away the bee and quickly felt a sting on my finger.  Then there was buzzing in my hair.  I began to walk quickly around the yard saying “go away, go away.” This was one of the times I was grateful for the privacy fence.   Then the buzzing stopped.

I took care of the chickens then went back inside (via the alternate path) to have Brian check my back for a stinger.  There was none but I had definitely been stung.  Then the buzzing started again.  I headed for the door but Brian called me back so he could find the bee.  It took every bit of self- control I had to stand still while he searched my hair.  He knocked the bee to the ground and then used a napkin to pick it up.  It had lost its stinger but was still alive – until Brian squished it.  That reminds me of a song – I’m bringing home a baby bumblebee…..but I digress.

So the myth of bees only stinging once is busted.  Next, I’ll tackle the myth that only roosters crow.

Do Chickens Eat Bread?

By Guest Blogger Chicken Wrangler Sara

It all started with this simple question:  Do your chickens eat bread?

A friend was helping at a food distribution event and had a lot of bread left over. She did not want to throw it in the dumpster so she asked if we could feed it to the chickens.  We figured bread is made of grain and chickens eat grain so chickens must eat bread.

My husband went and picked up what turned out to be several boxes of very nice bread – sour dough, cranberry, whole wheat and many others.  Most of it was in fine condition – much too good to feed to chickens so we pulled out the good loaves and started calling friends to see if they wanted any.

That was several years ago. Now every Friday I go and help my friend with this food distribution that has turned out to be more than just bread. In fact it is like Christmas when the truck opens the door.  We’re never quite sure what we will find. There have been cases of bananas, avocadoes, beets, turnips, and bags of onions, carrots, grapefruit, and oranges.

We have started calling whatever is in abundance the “secret ingredient”.  Some people make a game out of seeing how many ways they can fix whatever we get in abundance.

One week recently there was spaghetti squash.  Most people did not know how to fix it so as I handed it out, I explained what to do with it.  There was still a lot left over which I brought home and gave to any of our friends and neighbors who wanted it.  I even had people I didn’t know who heard we had a truck load of squash and came to get some.  It is an interesting way to meet people to say the least.

Last week’s “secret ingredient” was apples.  They came in a large (the size of cardboard box that stores put watermelons in) wooden crate. We put them in bags which seems simple enough.  Except it was raining and cold.  We bagged apples until our hands were numb. What was leftover after the distribution I loaded as much as I could fit into the back of my truck along with the leftover bread, cabbage, grapefruit, and bananas. When I got home I covered the back of the truck with a tarp and went inside to thaw out.

When my son got home from school, he said, “Mom I need to make an apple cobbler.” He was totally unaware of what I had in the truck.

I smiled and said, “I just happen to have some apples.”

Matt made cobbler, Brian made apple butter, and I made apple pie, baked apples and dried apples. This was after giving apples to everyone we know.

Now we are ready for this weeks “secret ingredient.”

Crustless Bread

A blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

A friend recently invited me to a luncheon where she served the most wonderful sandwiches.  She also served a quinoa salad, dried fruit and a broccoli salad. However, the sandwiches caught everyone’s attention.

There were three kinds of sandwich fillings including a pineapple salad. Each sandwich was cut in half diagonally and then the cut part was dipped in nuts.  As we enjoyed the meal, she explained that she had been served these sandwiches at another luncheon, but they had been cut into circles so there was no crust.

This led to a discussion about bread crusts and which families had members who regularly removed the crusts.

Then someone remarked they had recently seen crustless bread at our local store. It was not a particularly intellectually stimulating conversation but lovely nonetheless.

When I got home, I went to feed the chickens.  I had some random bread to give them along with their regular food.  As I shut the gate and headed back to the house I noticed something interesting:

The chickens had left the bread crust.  Perhaps I should buy them crustless bread.

You’re Not My Chicken! You’re A Snort.

A blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

I was in my bedroom getting ready for work when I heard a chicken.  On Miller Farm, this is normal.

The clucking was coming from right outside my window.  This is not normal.

I put shoes on and went outside to see which one of our silly birds had spent the night outside the coop.  As I rounded the corner of the house, I spied the escapee – except there was one problem.

This was not my chicken.

My first thought was from the book Are You My Mother?

In the story, the little bird is searching for its mother when it comes upon a steam shovel.  It quickly realized that this was not its mother.

I named the stray bird “Snort.”

Now you may wonder how I distinguish my chickens from others.  It isn’t always easy but this bird was a barred rock, and we have none of that variety at the moment.

Being a Chicken Wrangler, I could not leave her out in the open so I scooped her up and carried her to our coop.  She was very calm about the whole process, until I let out all our chickens.

You see, chickens are not particularly kind to strange birds.  They chased the poor stray around the yard until she flew up to the fence.

I tried to catch her again to clip her wings so she wouldn’t meet Bella (the chicken-killing dachshund). Since I was unsuccessful,  I left the dogs inside while I went to work.

When I got home, the first thing I did was check the backyard.  Sticking out from a bush against the fence was a chicken head.

The stray bird had flown the coop again.  She seemed to want to go back inside the fence so I caught her, clipped her wings and put her back with the others.

Meanwhile I have asked my friend with chickens if she is missing a barred rock.  She is checking her chickens.

I may have to post a “Found Chicken” sign at the corner. Someone may be missing their chicken.

Don We Now our Ugly Holiday Sweaters

A blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

Twenty-one years ago, my parents gave me a Christmas sweater. It was something they knew I would never buy for myself but would love.

They were absolutely right. I wore that sweater for many years starting with our daughters first Christmas.

This very same daughter has borrowed this sweater not once but twice to enter in “tacky Christmas sweater” contests. This year she’s loaning it out.

I would be offended except for two years running, my sweater has won.

I think I deserve at least some kind of prize for having held on to that sweater long enough for college kids to think it is tacky.

Today I pulled out my Christmas sweatshirt. It is even older than my tacky sweater.

After my first Christmas program (which was several years before our first daughter was born), my students presented it to me. It has the name of the Christmas musical – “The Town Hall Christmas Tree” – on the front and all the kids’ handprints in red and green on the back and down the arms.

My mother purchased a Christmas sweater for herself at the same time as she bought my sweater. Definitely fits the ugly sweater category.

But the overall winner of our ugly holiday apparel would be the red sweat suits with appliqued Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer. The suits are long gone, but oh what fun Christmas memories!

YOUR TURN: Do you have an entry for an ugly holiday apparel contest?

 

Deck the Halls

A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

Several years ago, we downsized our Christmas tree. Space was an issue as well as ease of construction – we bought an artificial pre-lit tree.

This meant there was no longer room for all the ornaments, which was good news for our children.

Their handmade ornaments with pictures from elementary school that were always hung and, because I think they are precious ornaments, I placed them to the front. Howeverthe 17, 19, and 21 year olds are not so fond of them. So I put the treasures back in the ornament box to be saved for when they have all moved away.

This year our oldest Catherine helped me set up the tree. I unpacked the ornaments and she hung them on the tree.

Together we evaluated which ornaments would go on and which to save for another year. We had fun remembering the origin of the ornaments.

There was the cinnamon ornament in the shape of Texas that someone made us before we moved to Mexico.

Then there were the ones Beekeeper Brian and I got on our honeymoon and the hot air balloon I picked up in Albuquerque at the museum. Several are made by Beekeeper Brian’s grandmother out of duck eggs.

By far the most fun is the set we got the Christmas before Catherine was born. At the time we had no animals living at our house and no idea of what the future held.If only we had known how prophetic those chicken ornaments would be!

Everyone has those special decorations in their family.  Take time to pass on the stories that go with them.  It is what makes families unique.

Too Many Chickens Underfoot – Miller Farm Friday

By Guest Blogger Chicken Wrangler Sara

The chickens that hatched at the end of July are doing fantastic.

In fact, we have sold seven of them including Leo, the late bloomer. They were not too excited about the move, but I trust they have made the adjustment nicely.

Even with seven less chickens, it is still crowded in the coop.They seem to multiply at feeding time.

Rachel switched the birds to fermented feed this summer. Basically you mix chicken feed and water and let it sit until it smells like vinegar.  I suppose it functions like yogurt with good bacteria to help the digestive system of the chickens.  Anyway, the birds love it, and we have had no illness since switching.

The only issue is that I must put out fresh food every morning.

Sometimes I think the chickens run around the coop burning calories all night because they seem to be starving in the mornings. I put one scoop in a feed bowl and carry a scoop to put into a second bowl.

One morning a little chick jumped right up onto the scoop before I could put it in the bowl.

They have learned to associate my presence with being fed. It is kind of like my children. Even now when they come home from college, they are eager to know what I am fixing for them to eat.  The chickens unlike my children run up to me and get right under my feet.

I find myself doing a new kind of “chicken dance” to avoid falling down. I imagine it like an elegant tango but it is more like a rodeo clown.

So far, I have managed to remain upright as I feed the chickens. Another accomplishment to put on my resume.

Moving Cheese – Miller Farm Friday

A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

This is the season of change.  Kids go back to school, husband goes back to work, and my piano students start back up.

It can be a very stressful time for those who don’t like change.

One year when I was teaching preschool, we got a new director. One of the first things she did was have us all read the book Who Moved My Cheese? By Spencer Johnson, M.D. It talks about change.

When they rearranged my grocery store, I told Beekeeper Brian they were “moving my cheese.” One morning someone parked in my normal spot at the swimming pool, and my friend said “So they moved your cheese.”

Some people, me included, do not like to have our cheese moved.

I’ve discovered that humans are not the only ones who have trouble handling change.  Our dogs are pretty set in their routine.

I usually put their kennels in the living room where they sleep and then I let them go outside while I go to close up the chickens. When we come in, I take down the gate between the kitchen and the living room and they go straight to their kennels.

One day last week, I took down the gate before I went to let out the chickens. Sometimes stepping over it in the evening is too daunting a task.

This was very confusing for Bella. She ran straight to where her kennel normally is and walked around in circles. Then she went to look for it.

I had a very hard time getting her to go outside first. Finally we got everyone settled for the night.

The good thing about Bella is that she has a very short memory so there is no danger of her being permanently traumatized by the temporary change in routine.

I’m not taking any chances, though.  No more moving Bella’s cheese.

Frizz, the Second – Miller Farm Friday

A guest blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

One of our most famous chickens is Frizz – a Cochin bantam who looks like she stuck her beak in a light socket.

She is a small bird who makes up for her size with attitude.

She and Samson, a bantam rooster who has feathered feet, have lived with the big birds for quite some time.

This spring, we moved them into the bantam side.  We then incubated Frizz’s eggs in hopes of duplicating her unique look.

We had success:

Frizz the Second is a bit more timid than her mother, but then she is still young.

We have several friends who are now keeping chickens. One has asked about purchasing bantams from us.

Rachel was willing to let Frizz the Second go. I am not.

So we are hatching more eggs. We’ll see what comes out.