Rooster Combs

Our roosters Abe and Homer decided they were tall enough to eat from the top of our metal feeder.  Unlike their counterparts, the hens that feed from the bottom of the feeder.   Have you ever seen the movie "The Christmas Story"?   Well, the rooster's combs stuck to the metal of the feeder just like the boy in the movie had his tongue stuck to the flag pole.  Our roosters aren't the brightest in the hen house they stuck their combs to the feeder not once but numerous times.  Blood was everywhere from them ripping their frozen combs from the metal.  My husband and I determined that chickens never or almost never learn from past experience, a little like us humans.  Anyway, we decided to remove the metal feeder and use a rubber feeder.  My daughter, Alexis and I put A&D on their combs.  All is well!!

Artistic Granddaughter Zoey

Zoey came to spend the day with me.  It was so cold outside (-30) so we spent the day inside coloring, reading, and painting.  Zoey decided she wanted to paint more than paper.  So I thought it would be fun to make a paper bag puppet.  She colored the face and I cut yarn for hair in which she glued on.

Zoey began to get bored and decided to paint grandma's toenails.  As grandma, it's difficult to say no, besides she was having fun.

Do you think it will wash off?

Rogue chicken

We have a chicken named Claira. She is a cross breed.  Her head is brown and her body is black.  Anyway for whatever reason she will not follow the flock.  She is a drummer that follows her own beat.

I've tried a multitude of things to help her reenter our flock.  I think things are going well and the next thing I notice is her on the front porch again.  I decided, what the heck and began feeding and watering her on the porch.  I even put a basket with straw on the porch and she sleeps and lounges in the basket.  It is the cutest thing.  I will post a picture when it isn't as cold as 20 below.

I can watch her while in the kitchen.  By the way, I'm in the kitchen a lot.  Anyway, I have grown to love her little antics.  She jumps up and down on our table and glider playing with our barn cats that mosey up her for a treat.  Maybe she dreams of being a cat or believes she is one, who knows.  My three year old granddaughter, Zoey is even captured by her comedy.  Zoey calls her a "Road Chicken" .  Because every once in a while we find Claira in the middle of the road.  Thank God we do not have much traffic!!!

I began worrying about her in this wea

Flashback to Amish Life

Saturday , October 24th , 2004

Apple Butter

Some facts you may need to know before reading my flashbacks:

1. My daughters and I lived on an Amish farm for eight years in Grabill, Indiana in a house with NO ELECTRICITY or INDOOR PLUMBING. We were basically Amish minus our church and attire.

2. The Schmuckers lived just down the lane. We rented our home from a lovely Amish family who lived on the other end of our driveway. The mother and father were Mary and Paul and they had seven (or eight children, it's hard to count the fast-paced) Julie, Joshua, Joses, Joanna, Reuben, Paul Jr., and Justin. We were also close friends with Mary's sister's (Margaret's) family and many other friendly Amishfolk.

 At Mary's, we watched as her family made apple butter over an open fire. The kettle they used was probably the largest kettle I have ever seen. It was also copper-lined. Ten gallons of apple cider and three bushels of apples later, the finished product of forty-eight quarts of apple butter emerged.

It seemed as if Mary had been making apple butter over an open fire in this fashion her whole life. As I was conversing with Mary's mother, I learned that as a young child her mother taught her just how to do this.

 Whilst the brew simmered, we ate a lunch of chicken and noodles, mashed potatoes, turkey, salad, and dessert. (Every meal with the Amish is a feast).

The apple butter cooked all day, from 6 AM to 2 PM. We took the kettle that was hung from log chains and it took two men to carry it. Then, we formed an assembly line and began filling all forty-eight quart jars. Each of us family members shared the precious butter and we began discussing who would receive a quart of their special butter for Christmas.

 

 

 

Chickens and Fetticini

Fettuccine and chickens are a funny mix.  I had left overs of fettuccine noodles and decided I wanted to see if my chickens would eat them.  My friend told me she frequently make spaghetti for her chickens and they love it.

Yesterday morning after watering, the chickens followed me out to the barn yard like usual thinking I was going to give them scratch as I do every morning.

I laid the noodles down on the ground and to my surprise they began fighting over each noodle.  It
 was the caviar of the chicken world.  Imagine the movie  Lady and the Tramp , the cute scene in which Lady begins eating a spaghetti noodle and Tramp finds himself on the same noodle.  Suddenly, they come face to face and their eyes meet.  Now you can imagine my chickens minus the romance.  As the chickens scurried around, our cat, Otis noticed all the ruckus and joined the fun.  Chickens, roosters, and a large gray hair tom cat began fighting over the delicious noodle.  What a sight.

Olive Makes 13

A friend of mine, Christine, suggested I write down this story about my chickens and let my readers enjoy.

The other evening I was in the chicken coop feeding and watering before bedtime.  My favorite chicken Olive is a beautiful Ameraucana.   I picked her up and put her on my shoulder as I did my chores.  I closed the chicken door to tuck the chickens in for the night.

 I began my night ritual of counting the chickens.  One, two, three....Twelve!  Twelve?  Oh no, one is missing!  

Memories of looking for chickens in the dark returned to my mind.  After 1 1/2 hours we found them in the rafters of the barn.  

I don't want to look for a chicken in the dark.  "Maybe I counted wrong."  I began counting again "one, two, three....12.  Again 12!" "Olive who is missing", I asked her as she rode on my worried shoulders.

They're moving around maybe I missed one.  I counted again, "One, two, three.....12!" and then Olive "PEEPED!"  "I held 13!