Baby, it's hot outside!

I used to set up an advanced system of water pans, pools, and sprinklers to keep the girls cool. I have since learned that they are masters at finding the various cool spots throughout the day and never use my awesome pools. Oh well, I still set out a mister (home depot--$10) just because I feel like I should do *something* in this hot weather.

Their favorite places are under the coop, under the deck (where I put the mister), under my car, and under the picnic table.

We have two flocks--Chuck's flock and Ducky's flock. This is Ducky's flock which consists of two americaunas and several silkies.

I guess Ducky is a leghorn? He was bright yellow when he hatched. I came in the house and told Rob that our chicken just had a duck. The name Ducky stuck after that.

Making lemonade out of moth worms

After yesterday's discovery of moth worms in one of our beehives we were left wondering...well now what? Most people put the combs in the freezer and then scrape them off to reuse, hoping to have removed all moth eggs.
We have decided to just buy new combs so that *hopefully* this doesn't happen again or at least not soon.
So what do we do with the old combs? I don't want all those eggs hatching or worms becoming more moths.

Send in the chickens!! Hello? We have our very own Grub Catching Team!

Chuck and the girls were all too happy to do their civic duty at the worm buffet this morning. 

I love the last picture. Martha got an especially   yummy looking worm and Chuck looks like "Wha?! You didn't share?!"

Bee Hives

As usual I suck at keeping up with a blog. I keep thinking..hey that should go on the blog. But then that would be weird to suddenly post something after months of not posting. So we will see if I can actually maintain a consecutive weekly posting for at least two weeks in a row. Probably not.

Anyway. We began our beekeeping journey last year. Well actually Rob did because I am deathly afraid of bees. Throughout the year I have become increasingly intrigued by this hobby (from afar of course). I think owning bees is probably the best form of therapy for overcoming a bee phobia. (Note: I am not a doctor and that's probably really bad advice. )

When Rob first started this hobby my mailbox and doorstep were flooded with bee catalogs, bee equipment, bee books, bee houses ("They're called 'supers,' Steph") bee association certificates, bee meeting notifications (seriously...a meeting about bees?). I mean, these are bugs. How much could a bug hobby need.

I have come to realize that bees are a very dramatic bunch. Owning bees is much like playing a continual game of Risk. You always have to stay one strategic step ahead of the bees and their nemesis. The bees don't like to be too cold, too hot, have too many queens, have not enough queens, have too many bee friends, have not enough bee friends. They don't like moths, going thirsty, rain, no rain, or too much rain. They don't like other hives and yet sometimes they like another hive more than theirs. They don't like winter or summer or fall. They tolerate spring.

I am sure some bee-ologist somewhere is cringing at my rant and maybe it is just our particular set of diva bees that are so dramatic.

Several weeks ago we discovered that one of our hives split. What this means is that another queen was born and some of the bees were all like "hey, we like this queen better...she promises no taxes and less work." So after a short Revolution the new queen and her minions leave the hive for newer and greener lands. Meanwhile, we are left with half a hive of pissed off bees. This then creates a "weak hive" because there are less workers and less soldiers guarding the hive.

We thought the hive was rebuilding and doing their honey thing. Rob checked on them last week and things were fine. He checked on them today....total destruction. The dreaded wax moth worm had taken over our hive. I would post a picture...but it is so gross I can't bare to stare at it long enough to focus the camera. We felt like really bad bee parents until we talked to our Bee Mentor and did a little research. Apparently these nasty ninjas are capable of destroying a hive in as little as one night. They fly around looking for a weak or new hive that doesn't have enough guards at the door and then lay a kajillion eggs. The hive is too small to overtake their new visitors and succumb to the nasty ninja wax moth worms.

The other hive looks great. Guess they have a heftier security system. I am picturing a heavyset bouncer type at the hive door named Rick. I wish Rick cared enough to help out the other hive.

So with all farm catastrophes we learn a few things. Prevention is worth...well, you know the saying.
1.) Rob got pretty busy with work and didn't cut off the newly developing queens often enough. If this had been done, our hive may have not split. But sometimes it can't be helped. The new queens form in a brown dirt ball on the bottom of the combs. They can be scraped off with a crowbar looking tool.

--see the picture below...the comb he is holding up has a ball of dirt at the bottom. This is a new queen that will possibly take off with half your hive. 

2.) We are not bad bee parents, this happens to even the most experienced bee keepers
3.) I read something about making a homemade moth attractor trap . I am going to make one and see if that works.

So here we are...still waiting on honey for this year. I am still enjoying the process and learning that comes with beekeeping (from inside my locked Kia). Hopefully our diva bees will stick together this time.

A crude but funny moment at the livestock auction

We are at the Lazy H livestock auction and I just witnessed southernality at its finest.
One of the workers was tagging goats in the back while I was looking some over. His about seven year old son was helping write the tag numbers and open the gate. As his dad grabbed a very rambunctious small goat he yelled for his son to hurry over and tell him if the goat was a nanny (girl) or a billy (boy). The boy looked between its legs but was having trouble identifying this squiggling goat. In frustration as the dad continued to wrestle the mad goat he yelled in a deep cornbread fed Southern accent to his son " Balls or nipples, boy?! Balls or nipples?!"
I don't know why this was so funny to me. It may be one of those things you would have to be there for but I thought I'd share. ;-)

Gucci proving his place on the farm...

Turkeys, about 5 months old

The donkey...he has a name now...Eli

Baby chicks...three months old and the story of our first Egg-Cesarian.

Three months ago today, we had three of about 12 eggs hatch. We waited for three more days and none of the others hatched. Lindsey, the broody hen (see footnote), gave up sitting on the remaining eggs so that she could tend to her three chicks. We waited a couple more days and decided it was time to dispose of the remaining eggs. But then Rob noticed that there was movement in two of the remaining eggs.

We then consulted the Farmer's Encyclopedia aka Google. There is much debate on whether or not humans should assist in hatching. Some site that it is survival of the fittest and nature should take its course. Others say that chicks must hatch on their own to develop their legs properly (kicking an eggshell off of you apparently takes a lot of effort.) Others said they always help chicks who appear to be struggling.

Since Lindsey was no longer able to devote the time to sitting and we didn't have an incubator, we decided to intervene and give the poor things a chance. Some hens lay harder eggs than others and the chicks have more difficulty getting out but are otherwise in good health.
Armed with a sterile pair of tweezers, small scissors, a wet rag, and a box with a heating lamp, Dr. Rob and I began the egg-cesarian.
He gently pulled a large amount of shell, being very careful that the shell did not cut the chicks. We left the bottom portion of the shell on (about 1/3 of the whole shell) so that the chicks could work their legs to kick it off. But after a couple of hours, they just flopped around and we decided to just pull it off. PS-There is an umbilical cord you have to cut..weird, I never knew that.

After a few hours we noticed that one chick was pretty spry, kicking and moving its wings but not walking yet. The other chick lay pretty listless. We gave them both Sav-a-chick electrolyte water from a small dropper since they could not yet walk to the water.

This is graphic, if you are sensitive, dont read--- scroll to "safe to read":
The listless chick ended up having a sort of bowel explosion. I guess he was not developed enough internally. Rob had to "cull" the chick which is a natural part of farming. Cull is a farming word for euthanize, I guess. You can Google the most humane way to do this. This was really tough for us! It was the moment when the hard part of hobby farming became reality. No matter how small, Rob and I appreciate all life and even though it was the right thing to do, it didnt feel good.

OKAY, SAD PART OVER, SAFE TO READ

We still had one kickin baby chicken that we saved. Over the next two days we dropper fed him and nudged to him the shallow water dish. He began walking and chirping on his own, much to our delight.

It was now time to introduce him to his mom and fellow chicks in the coop. At first when we put him in the coop Lindsey charged at him! We couldn't believe it! After we pulled this poor chick from the brink of death we expected an amazing reunion between mom and baby complete with music and a long dramatic hug.
Rob quickly snatched the chick up. Then, in an unprecedented move, we didn't Google something. Rob decided to get all the chicks from the coop (no small feat with an angry mom around). He put the new chick and old chicks together and let them rub their scents on each other before returning them to the coop. I think Lindsey knew we pulled a fast one as she counted her chicks and looked up at us with a slanted suspicious eye. But it worked! She quickly resumed pecking around and has continued to care for all chicks until we returned them to the big coop.

I am proud to say that three months later he is just as healthy as the other chicks. So the debate continues on whether or not to assist in hatching. It worked out for one chick but not the other.

Broody hens and such:

Not all hens have the maternal instinct to lay on eggs. Most just lay their egg and go about their day. We had the chickens for three months and none of our hens appeared interested in laying for most of that time. Then our Lindsey began sitting on the eggs for about an hour and then get up. She did this for a few days as if practicing.
If you have chickens you know that the hens prefer the same nesting box. Every day. We decided to not gather eggs for a few days and see what Lindsey would do. Each hen continued to lay in their favorite nesting box until there were about 9 in all. At that point, Lindsey became a full time sitter.

We made a couple of mistakes though:
Mistake 1. We read that you could add eggs, previously refrigerated, to the nest for hatching. But I think we did this too late which is why not many hatched. She was forced to decide whether to take care of her chicks or eggs and had to choose her chicks of course.
(Warning, I am not a scientist so I am sure my verbage is incorrect but this is the cliff note version of Egg Sex Ed) Eggs are amazing. If fertilized, the pre-embryo lays dormant for up to about 14 days until warmed by either the hen or an incubator. Once warmed, the embryo finishes forming over the next 21 days. For example, an egg layed on Jan 1st and an egg layed on Jan 10th will both develop at the same rate starting on whatever day the hen starts sitting and will hatch on about the same day. Pretty cool huh?

Mistake #2: we should have closed off the coop sooner because we caught a couple of hens sitting on top of Lindsey trying to lay in the same ole favorite nesting box. We thought they would just lay in the other boxes, but no. This could have caused an egg to be cracked.

What we did right:
We closed the coop to the other chickens so they had to roost in the open area in their pen. This didnt seem to bother them and once given no other choice, they began laying again in the nesting box in the pen.
We put a coffee cup of water and a bowl next to Lindsey. She very very very rarely got up from her nest once she started sitting.
On a gross note, after the chicks hatched, she poo-ed the most awful smelling massive poo ever in the coop. Guess she had been holding that. :-/

The rest is history as documented above. We gave Lindsey and the chicks starter feed until 2 1/2 months old. We then switched them to a layer feed and as of last week (almost 3 months old) we introduced them to the rest of the flock. They have been put in their pecking order, as hens will do.
Since Chuck had previously placed the turkeys at the bottom of the flock, the turkeys were more than delighted to be "over" the chicks and let them know it. Now the turkeys and the chicks hang out together around the yard as the flock's un-cool gang. At night they all sleep together as one semi-happy family. It just takes a few minutes for everyone to find their place.

Don't let the donkey pet the chickens.

I have been a bad bad blogger. I vow to keep up with this blog. Ok, vow is such a strong word. I will try really hard to keep up this blog.
I have just started a new job---my first year as a special education teacher and it is now more important than ever to think about things other than work.
Today, I get a call from my husband- "I've got a surprise for you!"
Since he is an account executive for a shipping company, he spends a lot of time in various businesses. Therefore, usually when he says he has a surprise it is a bunch of free pens with company logos or free samples of dog treats. However, this time was different.
As soon as he got home I of course asked what my surprise was. I don't know why, but I still get excited even though it is usually lame...but then again I do love office supplies.
"Put your shoes in, Thomas is here. The surprise is in his truck, it's too big to bring inside."
Oh dear. What massive bit of corporate advertising do I now own?
Thomas has a horse trailer attached to his truck, which doesn't surprise me since he owns a bunch of horses.
Surprise! He opens the doors and there stands a 4 foot high donkey.
So now we are donkey owners.
Rob has named him Homer. This may change.
He is a "Jesus Donkey" apparently aptly named based on the black cross of hair that is across his back. I think this is a sign that he needs a much more religious sounding name. I thought about Nazarene and call him Nazi (nah-zee) until I realized that his name would be spelled like Nazi (na-tzi). We can't have anti- semantic livestock running around.
He is very docile. Which is really good since it had to be the worst homecoming ever in the history of donkey.
As we lead him from the trailer to the goat fence, we opened the gate. Our goats seized this opportunity to then race out. Now five adults are running around the donkey trying to lasso two goats. Oh, did I mention it was in the middle of a thunderstorm?
So this was Donkey's first impression of his new home:
Wild goat wrangling, torrential downpours, chickens running around scared of the thunder, dogs barking at humans running, and then an ominous rumble of thunder and lightening as if to confirm his certain doom. 
He seems to be happy though. He comes right to us and lets us pet him. (In fact, he kinda demands it.)
We have not let the goats out with him yet. After their attempt at escape they were sent to their room to think about what they had done. They do not appear to be thinking about it nor are they concerned about the 400 pound beast of burden that is walking around their pen.
If it wasnt raining, I would take a picture. His ears are ginormous. He still has baby donkey fur since he is only about 6 months old.
His previous owner said he lived with goats and does well with them. We wanted a donkey to help deter coyotes. For some reason coyotes don't like donkeys.
Donkey comes with a criminal record though. He accidentally killed a chicken on the previous owner's land when he tried to play with it with his hoof.
So we will have to make sure the donkey doesnt pet the chickens.
Since the chickens have learned that tail feathers and electric fence dont mix, I dont think this will be a problem.

In the beginning there was 2...or 6

Rob and I have been married for almost 10 years and have lived on our 10 acres in Southern Alabama for about 7 years. We have always loved owning dogs and have rescued many of them. We currently own four dogs: Jethro, a white English bulldog; Meatloaf & Jackson, pugs; and Mr. Wendell, a Welch Corgie mix. I don't really know what sparked our sudden farm transformation. All I know is we were watching TV with dogs draped around the living room in sychronized snoring patterns when my husband announced, "I am tired of having animals that don't do anything. We are about to make use of this land and buy a useful animal." I didn't really think anything more about that until a few weeks later when we went to a local flea market. We bought a pair of gloves, some tomatoes, and 5 chickens. And that's where it all started....

We have had our share of misfortunes over the years and in January of 2012 had a particularly devastating one. In the beginning, I guess the aquiring of chickens gave us an outlet to focus on something else other than recent events. What we didn't know is how a few chickens in our yard would change our physical lifestyle, our connection with nature, and the quality of our time together.

All of a sudden, we were giving up our spots on the couch to be outside. We constructed the coop together, researched how to care of the chickens together, and shared the responsibilities of cleaning, feeding, etc.

Our evenings of fighting over the remote were replaced with sitting in lawn chairs watching the chickens as they roamed the front yard and all of their antics. As the day ended and dusk set in, we listened to the frogs, watched for lightening bugs, and talked about our day. It's not that our marriage was in trouble or anything, but after being together for 12 years it is easy to grow apart or take each other for granted. The time that we have spent together working on our growing small farm has been an invaluable experience.

However, it hasn't always been a glimpse of a perfect Southern farmscape. Being novices, the past few months have been a learning experience to say the least. Since I am starting this blog late, I will try to seperate posts to reflect what we have done so far. It is difficult to find information for beginning farmers sometimes even though the need is growing as more and more Americans worry about a downturned economy and are learning to be self-sufficient. We aren't "Doomsday Preppers" by any means but there certainly is a sense of comfort and pride in knowing that you can provide for your family without Walmart.

~Stephanie