Birds, brush, and buzzing about.

 We have new chicks!  I want to show you them...  But this is Taurus.  She is not going to give way to let me take any pictures. 

And since Husband and I have nearly lost parts of our persons trying to transfer her to the 'new digs', I decided that she can sit there, I will take a picture of the chicks later.  If we counted right, there are 6.  I will confirm that later.  When I won't lose a finger...

I thought we had some new birds over at the neighbors.  It had been raining, and I kept seeing orange 'birds' in the the trees.  I could NOT figure out what kind of bird 'round here would be orange.  And they never went to ground. 

Huh. 

Then I got out the binoculars.  And realized there was a logging clean up crew next door.  So, now my neighbor is delighted to know she has "Orange Headed Timber Trimmers" in her trees... Yeesh. (And I just bought some glasses, folks!)

Orange Headed Timber Trimmers in their natural habitat...

In other news, I do not have gooseberries.  I have Wild Hawthorn.  And I was told that it needs to be treated like Scotch broom, or it will spread and be as obnoxious. Groan... 

I am half tempted to see if I can get a burn permit!  (That won't happen, Oregon has all but outlawed field burning. Sigh...)  So, I guess I will be getting more upper body workouts, because I will be doing a lot of cutting brush. 

Unless Husband decides to help. 

I love my husband, but he can be the largest pain in the... ahem.  He is really having problems with his eyes, he is highly allergic to pollen from whatever that is blooming right now.  I came back to get a saw to cut brush, as some of the stuff was larger than my wrist.  Some bigger than my upper arm.  So what did he do?  AFTER I ASKED HIM NOT TO, he goes up the hill with a chain saw and cuts down the stuff.  It was a help, I admit, but he then paid for it for several hours with swollen eyes, and needing to put a washcloth over his face to keep the swelling to a minimum.  He doesn't want ME to use the blasted saw, though, I could hurt myself. 

(He has this @#$%@ pink and blue job thing, and while I love the man, this drives me up and back down the proverbial tree!) 

I also found out I am the slightly surprised new owner of a (sorta) new washer.  He'd traded the in-laws out of a dryer (that WORKS! HAPPY DAYS! I can dry a load of pants in less than 3 hours!!!)  So, he says he wants to look at getting a matching washer.  Uh. My washer is fine.  I can look around if you want, but just need a new faucet for the cold water.  Oh, no, no, no, we must get a new, MATCHING washer. 

Uh. 

Yes, folks, that is my Husband's attitude.  He wants them to be the same age (which sort of makes sense, I guess), and that they MATCH, (which makes no sense at all to me, dang it, the washer isn't the PROBLEM!!)

So the next day, I told Mom we'd to to some places to look at washers.  I called that afternoon, letting Husband know I was shopping, and did we need anything?

Oh, yeah, some milk, and by the way, we will be getting the washer Wednesday.

What washer???

I found one at Xityx's Shop through Craig's List.

Oh.  Well, I guess we don't have to go look for washers...  (I've noticed I have been getting a strange tic of late, I have no idea where it's come from...)

I will be having some Ambassador duties coming up soon, so I will be able to tell you about the great and mystic secrets of people watching as a Law Enforcement Representative.  (And get this, I get to go fishing!  More on that later...)

I am also going to be doing a presentation for my Renaissance group for another school.  I am not overly looking forward to it, only because it's a year end thing, so I know the kids will be as focused as a broken projector lens.  But, I will get paid, so that's a plus. 

And I get to watch the Indianapolis 500 with Dad, that's cool.  Our one big sporting day together.  We compare drivers, stats, strategies, eat breakfast, and I knit.  This works until the last few laps.  I have painfully learned to put down my knitting, or I either stab myself with a needle, or manage to pull out looots of stitches when I yell at the television...

So, posts will show up a bit later, but if I am not on as often, I am still thinking of my blog friends.  (A note on that, I have been trying to write responses on people's posts, but Blogger won't let me put them on.  I will keep trying, though!)

Wellll, THAT was odd.

Oh, and Happy Friday the 13th, everyone!  I am a confirmed triskadekaphile, a somewhat rare species...

For some strange reason, my last blog entry went away... (Don't blame 13, it happened 2 days ago.)

So, I will try this again.


First the good news:

Taurus is still sitting.  The roosters are annoyed.  Taurus doesn't care.  (Large grin...)

The bad:

This is Scotch Broom, (at least that's what I know it as), and it is a VERY invasive plant in this area.  I have spent the better part of the last two days trying to get the stuff out, as I just ignored it last year.  Not the best plan...  (Aspirin.  Need many aspirin... Owww...)  We need to do this mostly mechanically, as we have an extremely high water table, and everything flows DOWN to the pump. Plus, I really don't want to use poisons around the animals.

And the HUH???

This is, I think, gooseberry.  I will go to the extension agent later, and see if I can get a confirmation... I certainly hope it is.  Gooseberries are a native, so I wouldn't have to get rid of all those.  For some reason, they all showed up this year.  Birds, I suppose.  Thorny little things, those plants.  Below is a close up of one of the branches.

So, just another day in the "gee, what's this thing?" area of my life...

The circle of life on a farm.

I have been trying to help one of my chickens.  Buttercup had been having a lot of problems, and I separated her, and kept feeding and trying to work on the problems.  She was not doing well.  Never had laid an egg, was losing weight, and just getting more and more sick. 

I poured through the chicken care books and magazines I had, to no avail.  She just seemed to have "failure to thrive", as one of the books put it.  So, after working and working, I finally killed her.  (I don't use the word cull.)  I didn't want to do it, but I was more afraid of the others getting what she had.  I think if I had waited much longer, she might not have made it anyway.  She hardly squawked when I picked her up, and when I was getting ready to do her in, she just sort of laid there, not protesting, or even flapping her wings much. 

I felt rotten, I wasn't strong enough to do the job, and rather than have her suffer, I had to call Husband to do it.  (I had worked on getting myself mentally ready for about 3 days, but physically? Pfft. I am a wimp.  I admit it...)

So, that was the end of her.  I feel like a rotten person, in that I just could NOT figure out what was wrong with her.  So many times, I can parse out what is wrong, and either medicate or feed, or whatever, and they bounce back. 

No bouncing back here...

I then had to go through and clean.  Our hen house smells like a swimming pool right now. (Which, considering what it could smell like, might not be so bad...)  I have all the tools out in the sun, drying from the chlorine bath, and we shall see if there is any problems in the future. 

In other news, we do finally have a hen sitting.  Hoping for the best in that area, she seems to be ready to do the job.  One of the roosters is missing a few neck feathers, she did NOT want to be disturbed!  I also planted a whole of a planter set (72 peat pots) with seed for my garden.  I also bought about 6-8 tomato plants for the garden...

And just for me?  I bought two coleus.  Not for any reason, but that I think they are pretty plants. 

So.  Downer blog. Sorry.  Hopefully I will have a better one soon.  Think happy chick thoughts...

Love birds, socks, and excitement down the road...

So, told you I'd get a picture of them. I tried to get it as clear as I could, but Houdini is a "feral" rooster, you walk near, he moves QUICKLY away. So, it is a picture of the love birds, working in my flower garden, having a romantic breakfast of grubs and whatever. (I shan't get too specific when working out the dietary preferences of poultry. Ick...)

I have two socks finished at this point... Now if only they were a pair. I have one of my Harmonic Rainbow socks finished, and one of the Blue Hawaii socks. So. I am going to start on my next Blue Hawaii sock, and then finish with the other, if I can get them finished in this two week period. Hopefully. Then I can work on... say it with me, now, MORE SOCKS! Heh...

Yesterday had a lump in my stomach! I walked out with my Mom and Dad, who'd come over to see what had been going on at my house, (Mom is improving, she looks good, and is almost through with therapy, still using a walker, but more to steady herself than anything), and it was very breezy. It always is in the afternoons, especially if the weather is due to change. I looked up, and there was a big puff of SMOKE in the sky. OH! SH*T! This is NOT good. I asked Dad to run and tell Husband, then walked down our driveway to see if it was either neighbor's barn, or shops, as one does welding, the other has a lot of hay stored. It wasn't either one, and by that time, Husband had jumped in the pickup and buzzed down the road.

Turns out, the fire folk were already there, we just missed hearing them (Dad did, however), but one of the neighbors further down the road was cutting hay. Blade hit rock, caused spark, made fire. OOOPS! Good thing he had a cell phone, I guess he called right as he saw it catch, and the firemen were there in short order, and had it out very quickly. I am rather happy about this, as the weather, being so hot, has been wonderful for drying out hay, which makes, oh just LOVELY tinder... And it could have spread very quickly with the wind.

It might make for an interesting summer. I feel for the Californians...

(I will continue to blog about the goings on at my house, but the latest copy of AARP, had some neat blurbs about writing memoirs. While I haven't really thought about specifically writing from then to now type book form writing, I thought some of the items could make interesting blogging. Much better than "cleaned chicken house", at any rate...)

Romance is in the air...

This is a story of a rooster named Houdini. He is a very old rooster, with a pair of spurs that would make any cowboy proud, and feathers as black as the deepest jungle midnight.

He had a group of girlfriends, and he was happy. He would strut, and crow, and... other things, and seemed to be the biggest bird around, even though he was actually a bantam, and the smallest of almost all the birds. Unless you count the barn swallows.

One day, the farmer was getting just a little bit tired of the mess and chaos of the bantams, and decided a family that wanted eggs could have them.

Houdini didn't know this. He was content in his oak tree. The others were stuffed into a big dog kennel, then stuffed into a large TV box, where they were transported to somewhere near Portland, to keep a family with two young boys happy.

But Houdini was no longer happy. The farmer had bought Rhode Island Reds, and they were all bigger than he was. Three other roosters, by the names of Pebbles, P.J., and Junior would chase and fight with Houdini, who didn't have anyone to strut for, and was beaten up on a regular basis.

Houdini was sad.

Houdini would not crow, because the other roosters would beat him up. He couldn't stay around the hens, because the roosters would chase him away. Houdini moped. He wouldn't crow. He didn't move a lot, just sat on the gate and watched the group, and was sad.

Finally, the farmer had enough with the 3 roosters being so obnoxious, and put them, unwillingly, in a bachelor box, where they wouldn't hurt Houdini. Houdini brightened up a little. He would crow. He would go into the area where the chickens were, since the big rooster, Long Tail, didn't care if he was in there or not. Houdini seemed happier. The three roosters were not, but they are jerks, and so we aren't too worried about them in this story.

Then the farmer noticed one of the hens kept escaping the gate, and going into the yard, annoying the HECK out of the the farmer. How was she getting out? WHY was she getting out? The farmer was starting to contemplate fried chicken, baked chicken, or even chicken strips... Until she realized that the hen was out with Houdini. She LIKED to be around Houdini! He would cluck, she would run over for the bug, he could crow, he could strut, he could do... other things, and she stayed with him. He was happy again.

The farmer is now trying to convince them not to go out in the road, but other than that, she is trying to figure out if Houdini had an assistant, thereby giving Houdini's girlfriend a name.

So, hopefully, with some encouragement, they will live happily ever after.

(And if I can catch the two of them, pictures will be on the blog, later...)

Blazing Saddles

Well, my poor hens are having a time of it. The roosters are... having their way with the girls, and when they do, they tear feathers off. I have too many roosters, and I don't really want to do them in. (Much. I have tried giving a couple away, but... Eh.) I am seriously considering "summer housing bachelor pads" for a few of them, but until that happens, I had to help the girls. So I go to the handy-dandy Junior Woodchuck's Guidebook, (Also known as Storey's Guide to Raising Chickens), and I read about several cures for this.

Cut the toenails off and cauterize them. EEEEEEK! NO!!

Separate the males and females. Possible, but not going to happen right now.

Chicken saddles. Hmm. Won't hurt anyone, and it will add a bit of protection for the girls. So, I asked Mom to sew up a few, and I jokingly said they could have stripes, so we could have racing chickens... She did! I love it!

So we have 2 of the girls modeling the 2008 Chicken Racing Saddle.





So, now if I could just get them to run in a straight line.... Simultaneously... Hey, it works for Donkey Basketball!

INCOMING!!!!

Well, yesterday in the chicken house was interesting. I don't know if the roosters were scuffling, if Long Tail wanted out really badly, or just what, but I walked to the door and there was a bit of a riot going on inside. It only increased when I was actually at the door.

I opened the door, and WHAM, Long Tail flies out, and does a bank shot off of my head. I didn't even have time to duck! After he hits my head, he then loses control, rolls in the air, and lands upside down in the mud, with one of my other roosters, Pebbles, running off and screaming in terror. I guess I can understand, it's not everyday that you have a Rhode Island Red land (ahem) over teakettle and smack a spot of ground right next to you... 'Course, can't say I'm very used to Rhode Island Roosters doing bank shots off my head, either!

I was off to Eugene yesterday, I finally found a vehicle in my budget. I now have an adult tricycle. I tried a bike, but found since my accident, I can't balance at all well, and wanted something a tad more stable. Now I just have to work on riding something with gears and hand brakes. I grew up with "coaster" brakes (forward go, backward stop), and one gear, pedal you go... So at least I don't need to relearn balance on top of all this!

It isn't a 'cherry' bike, but it is usable, as is. It has a slightly bent fork, and could use some TLC, if not Bondo, but for what I want it for, it is fine. And in the spirit of naming nearly everything I have, it has been christened "Old Hippie". Because I found it in Eugene, where I have seen lots of folk who could be classified as such, it was sold to me by someone who looked like the Caucasian version of Bob Marley, and the bike itself has the brand "Free Spirit". And, it's not new. Sooooo, Old Hippie!

Still cleaning the cra(p)ft room. There is a storm due in tomorrow in this area. I betcha I might have some time to clean tomorrow!

IF the lights stay on. Oh. Right. We have a generator.

Never mind...

The Case of the Caged-Up Chick.

(Yes, I do like Perry Mason, why do you ask?)

Went out to close up the chickens, Rudee was acting up, so I didn't take him along. This turned out to be a good idea. Why? Well, he had to get Husband's attention.

I walked into the henhouse, and checked for the the last batch of eggs for the day. The door closed behind me. I didn't think anything of it, and threw a bit of scratch on the floor, then started to leave.

The door was locked. From the outside. Uh, oh. So, thinks I, well, I will just get out my knife, and lift the latch. Husband is a good carpenter. The door fits so well, a knife blade will not fit in the gap.

So, what do I have in the hen house, (hens are getting just a LITTLE edgy by this point...), that I can open the door with. Hmm. Broom, no, dustpan, no, bucket, no, eggs, of course not. Uh, oh!

So I try pushing on the door. Nope. Shaking the door. Nope. Wiggling the door. Nuh uh. Ok, now what? (Chickens are clucking, with a slight edge of panic...)

Well, Rudee was upset because I'd not taken him with me. And he barks if he can't get to me. He'd settled down, because he knew Husband was in the house. I needed to wind him up. So, I started calling for him. Husband is hard of hearing, Rudee is not. So, "Rudee! Get the squirrel! Come here! Good Dog! Get your toy!" And pretty much continued this for about 5 minutes until husband came out to shush Rudee. (Chickens at this point have gone into full scale screeching in time with my yelling, and are moving as far back from the doorway as possible.)

And that's when he realized he couldn't see me. He walked about halfway across the drive before he could see me, laughing my head off 'cuz I was stuck. He got to the door, and said, "I wish I had a camera."

I was glad he didn't.

He let me out, and we fixed the latch. This whole time I thought it was supposed to be loose. Not so, says Husband. So, I am once again free to roam, the chickens have (sort of) calmed down, and Rudee has become the honorary Lassie of our home.

Knew he was good for something.

Mushrooms and Gingerbread and knits, oh, my!

What have I been doing today? Cleaning the hen house. Out with the old, in with the new (ceader...) Chickens were annoyed that they had to be outside when it was raining, but they came into a clean dry house, so they can just shush.
(No, I didn't take a picture, ceader covered with chicken poo just isn't photogenic.)



After a bit of a scrub, I made post Christmas Gingerbread cookies. I had the dough left over from when my niece and nephew were here (they more or less made the dough), and thought I had better finish it up, before it solidified into a fruitcake or something. The kids did a pretty good job!


Husband went to visit someone to help them with a generator they had problems with. Husband has worked on several, and has paperwork on them, so I guess they had a grand old time working out the kinks of the rig, and these lovely shitake mushrooms were a thank you gift. HOO BOY, we are eating nice tonight! Or soon, anyway.


Mom's sleeves are going to be a few inches shorter than the pattern says, so I get to be creative and figure out how I am going to increase to make sure the silly arms line up with the sleeve holes! Wish me luck!



This was the UFO that I said was just yarn and a pattern on my shelf. I started it, it's called "Vegas Knitting". More or less, it's a process with coins and dice of deciding what you are going to knit stitch wise, and what color or type yarn you will use each row. I really like it, and might make a few more.

So, the achingly exciting life of Cat continues.

Strike one. Strike two. Er.....

There was a storm about mid last week, the weather people said, big rain, big wind, watch out.

We prepared.
Not much happened here.
I was glad.

Yesterday there was a big storm warning, big rain, big wind.

We prepared. I cleaned out the P. Chicken House, since it needed it, Husband cleaned the leaves out of the gutters.
Not much happened.
I am glad.

The weather people are talking about big rain, big wind on Sunday.
Now I am getting nervous...

But the chickens smell better.

Presbyterian Chicken House, and Fried Brain.

(No pictures today, I will later, but don't want to deal with yet more computer s... uh. Poop.)

Well, guess I should think about writing this puppy on occasion... I would love to say that I have been to exotic locales, drinking fine fruit juices and looking at handsome men. Ok, Husband IS handsome, to me, but well, exotic. Uh, I did a performance near the faire site, with several faire folke. I think we did pretty good, considering my bodice had a tear right where the wood boning is. Imagine walking around, leaning over, "cheering" a dance, etc., while a chopstick busily impales your stomach. Yep, that about sums it up. Oh, and the fine fruit juices? Costco grape. Does that count?

We have a brand new chicken house. I will post a pic soon, since I did get it painted. Finally. It was in the front yard, so Husband wanted it to look like another building on the property. I have said both that I am going to throw out the chickens and have it as a guest house or studio, and that it will be on next month's "Better Homes and Chicken Houses". (I actually will send a picture of the house to "Backyard Poultry", which I subscribe to, so maybe it will be published in a magazine.

Why Presbyterian, you ask? When we were getting materials, Husband noticed a 10 yard dumpster in front of the local Presbyterian Church. It was during the one rainstorm we had this summer. So, he jumps out, and goes to the church office, where the door was OPEN. Nobody home. So, he then walks to the main door, knocks, neh. Goes to the back. Did I mention it was raining? Dripping, he then finds a door heading to a basement like area. Gets inside a big fence with DANGER- CONSTRUCTION posted all about. NOT A SOUL!!!! (Literally or figuratively...) So, I am thinking, he's got to give up now, right? Neh, again. He finds one door I hadn't noticed, and he opens it and walks in bellowing, HELLLOOOO! Then the door closes, nothing. Suddenly, he opens the door, and there is an older gent gesturing with a hammer. They chat for a bit, then Russ comes back. Says I, no? Says he, We can take as much as we want. So we back up the truck, and get some gloves on (Husband is prepared for these kinds of things), and we proceed to pick out boards from the 10 yarder. We probably took 6 of the ten yards! As we were leaving, someone noticed our dumpster diving antics, and took our parking spot to purloin any other goodies.

The wood is straight grained old growth (Church is... uh, about 100, if I remember rightly), and so we used it for supports and "showy" spots on the house. Husband now says that if we use any of the chickens for dinner, we will have to say special grace over them...

We are helping out with a new Neighborhood Watch. I am sort of helping by printing out the phone list. Thought this would be straight forward... Name, number, tada... WRONG. Turns out several of the neighbors dispise each other. And I found a name of one of my teachers from grade school. The one teacher that I detested. In fact, that was the only year I faked being sick so I wouldn't have to go to school. This worked for a day or two, until Mom noticed I was only sick until the bus left... Uh. Oh, cough. Yeah, still don't feel good, can I go out and get some sunshine? (No, my life of crime didn't last long....) So, Husband says, we need a lead person the police contact, then two columns, one for the ones they like, one for ones they don't. We got the ones they don't. Executive decision, teach went on THEIR list. Heh.

But.

(You knew that was coming, didn't ya?)

But, Husband said he didn't think the list looked right. I should do it on Excel. Ahem. I hate Excel. I don't use Excel unless I am at gunpoint, normally. (And, having only been at literal gunpoint twice in my life, I don't use it much...) So, Husband says, here, I will show you what to do. And commenced showing. My eyes glazed over on a couple items, but I thought I understood. So I started.

I had written the whole list in 15 minutes on Word.

I finally beat the computer in Excel into submission, getting it to look passable in 3 hours. Have I mentioned I hate Excel? I showed the finished product to Husband, pleased that it came out legible, and actually almost like the demo they have in the Neighborhood Watch book. He looked. Then commented, gee, that is pretty close, we just have to make a few changes, I will help you with it later.

Gee, honey, does my sticking this phone list in your ear hurt? AIIIIIGH!

So, now you can see why no pics. I just don't have the heart to do battle with the computer for a bit... Fried Brain. It's what's for dinner. Sheesh.

(On the bright side, the spell check finally worked for me on Blogger... Hope springs eternal...)