Cat piss and the Garden Preacher

Well, mom and I went to our vegetable planning planting class, and I was shocked how many people were there! I would say about 30. Before the class started, my mom had the forethought to sit us by the pellet stove. I appreciated it. It was a little chilly in the building. People were filing in, (I'm almost positive I was the youngest there by about ten years,) and who sat down on the other side of my mom?? You guessed it. The humming guy who smelled like cat piss who was in my Farmer class. The one who I was supposed to present after so my presentation would be stellar? I immediately told my mom to avoid eye contact. She and an empty chair were between him and I...but it was only minutes later when he leaned across the empty chair AND her to say, "Hey I know you!" I politely smiled, (because that's what true farmers do.) He referred to me as the chicken farmer, and asked how the girls were doing...I made some brief, YET POSITIVE, reply as I turned my head in another direction like I heard someone call my name or as if I saw Elvis. Fortunately the class started then, and the Garden Preacher came out. Now this guy was wearing old pinstriped overalls, like the ones I picture train conductors wearing in the old days. He had on a flannel shirt that was red and green plaid with blue and yellow plaid sleeves. And a huge denim bucket hat...or maybe it was a fisherman's hat on his head. He looked like one of the huge bears from the Country Bear Jamboree with a white beard, that stole Punky Brewster's flannel. The room became quiet, and he raised his hand in the air. "The daily temperature that you see on tv, is NOT the temperature of your ground.***long pause*** And the soil type in the Willamette Valley is NOT the same as here in Mason County." CAN I HEAR AN AMEN?! Ok...he didn't say that, but I did in my head...after every thing he said. He was preachin...about dirt, and temperature, and weather. After his short sermon, we heard from two other Master Gardeners. They were great and really informative. Sure I want to have a vegetable garden, but I don't see that happening this year. But I have time. In the final words of the Garden Preacher, "Take this time to PLAN YOUR GARDEN FOLKS...Read your seed packets. Only YOU can control what happens in your garden, and only YOU can speak from your own experiences in your garden. Each person and their garden is different!" HALLELUJAH! PRAISE BIG TALL AND STUDLY! AMEN!
Victoria also went out to the coop Saturday. Some of the others started challenging her right away to re-establish the pecking order. I wanted to break it up, but knew it was a part of her going back.

Ideas, Realizations and Easter eggs...

Good morning all! Today I start my series of 6 classes with my mom...(HI MOM *waving*) As I mentioned before, today's class is about Vegetable Garden Basics: Planning, site needs, raised beds & seed selection. I can't wait, and I'm sure I will buy something cool while I'm there!
Today is the day Victoria is going back to the coop! The wound on her chest looks like a tiny dried up umbilical cord, which is so much better than the 2 inch jagged tear it was. :) She also has way too much energy for me to keep her in the house anymore. Everytime I bend over to clean her kennel out, she tries to jump on my back, or my head...not really sure what that's about. A chicken hug maybe? She thinks she's a parrot? So today is the day for Victoria, and I will get my room back...
Having Victoria here, Wynnona before her, and all 26 of the babies before that, has given me the idea for a "hospital" in the barn. I am going to make the last stall in the barn a sanitized room that will house the kennels, have a big counter, room for medications and supplies, and room for baby chicks or turkeys or whatever. That way when someone is sick, they can be separated from the flock or whatever, but not be in my room. And all of the supplies will be in one spot. Does that mean I won't have baby goats in my room when they come home??? Absolutely not, don't be ridiculous....I'm going to love them, and hug them, and squeeze them, and make them my very own!
While on the topic of the barn, I've made some decisions recently...and while they are personal to me, they are part of this journey of mine, so I felt I would share.... When I first started this blog of "I ride my own white horse," it was about P and I doing this on our own. And it has been a humbling experience and lesson for me to ask for help when I need it. But one I am coming to enjoy with all of the people who are eager to make this place wonderful...and badass. (That means totally great for those of you who need a translation.) Anyway, the barn was to be our project, and I have found that it isn't the same being down there. In fact, working on it without Crabby Patty is sad and depressing. But I need a finished barn. So I've made the decision to hire the work out, and have someone come finish it for me. That way I can focus my time elsewhere. And ok, ok, so I know my barn will never fall down. Not that I couldn't have made it sturdy!!! AND so it can be done in a few weeks, and not in 6 months. That's what this year is all about for me....Sure it is extrememly rewarding to look at something and know that it was my blood, sweat and tears that went in to it. Is it less rewarding to look at something that was done in a quarter of the time knowing my money went into it instead? Ha! That made me giggle...
Anyway, I have a feeling this year will be full of lessons for me...but so far, they are all good.
Last week I got my first order of eggs for Easter....???? Really??? Someone wants to buy my eggs to color for Easter? Weird, but ok. Gather around fellow farm folks, and pull up the nearest hay bale...I am about to teach you something really cool. There is a chicken named an Araucauna, who lays colored eggs. The eggs are all different shades of green and blue. (I'm not shitting you.) So these chickens are also called "Easter egg chickens". Hello? You in the back row? Did you just flip me off????? I'm not making this up, and that is totally unfarmerly behavior! Here, I'll prove it. http://www.mcmurrayhatchery.com/araucanas_americanas.html Someone get that dude a beer...
I AM A FARM GIRL...AND I DO RIDE MY OWN WHITE HORSE.

Simple Pleasures

After a week of everything going wrong, its such a sweet thing for something to go right....
After work I went out to see Dixie. She hasn't been running since September. Last time she was driven, she started riding really hard...(perverts), and dying when she came to a stop.. I've asked a couple of guys at work for ideas to fix her, and when I got home today, I gave it a shot. I popped the hood and looked at all of her hoses. I only saw two out in front that were easily accessible. I pushed them both in. One was tight, and the other one pushed in about an 1/8th of an inch. I figured I'd try to start her not believing that an 1/8th of an inch would make a difference. Well, she started on the third try, and ROARED!!!! That's my girl.
I ran her for about a half hour, and she didn't sputter out once. I wiped her down, (mold had taken over the steering wheel,) and turned on the heater. Tomorrow I am going to drive her around the lake to make sure she is good...If all goes well, I'm back in business. I foresee days of driving her around with the window down and the music cranked. Sweet bliss here I come.
Vickie hasn't returned to the coop yet. She had a hard time digesting the straight food, so I am introducing it a little more gradually. She should be good to go this weekend. Lucky chicken.
This Saturday, my mom and I are starting a series of classes put on by the Master Gardeners of Mason County. We are soooo excited! It is hosted by Kirsten, who taught my farm class.
Our first class is on seed selection and raised beds. I can't wait. Thanks mom for joining me. Two heads are better than one.
I also think I am going to tear down the walls of my bathroom this weekend. Therapy and accomplishing something...you just can't beat that!
Life is good...and I'm where I belong...doing what I should.

The plan

Now that Big Tall and Studly and I are on the same page, I'm moving forward. The weather is still crappy for the most part, and I have no idea if we will be getting anymore snow.
I have put a deposit on two Nigerian Dwarf Does who I am supposed to get around my birthday at the end of April. You guessed it...they need a home. Their pen needs to be fenced, the back side of the barn needs to be re-done,and the inside needs to be framed and sheeted. I've received several offers for help and I've decided that so others can share in the magic of my farm, the first step is to let people be involved. So its on...
Also I am planning on starting my Bourbon Red turkeys this year. The minimum I can order is 15, and I think I will start with that to see how it goes. They also need a pen, but their home will be included with the remodel of the back of the barn.
Besides the girls, thats the animal plan for the year.
Any ideas for goat names? I will entertain all ideas. :)
I'm excited about the farm this year. I hope to finish the barn, plant a few more fruit trees, and get some fence up.
It is a new personal lesson for me to be able to acknowledge that I can use some help getting things going out here....but also a gift to realize so many want to be a part of my dream. And that's what Chasing Butterflies Farm is going to be about. Following dreams, and experiencing the magic.
Thank you to all of you who have offered to lend a hand...weither with a paint brush, to dig holes, put in posts or to help love all of my babies. You'll be hearing from me soon.
~Becky

The last week...

It's Friday night, and I'm pondering my 2011 so far...
Victoria is doing better. Her wound on her chest herniated, because her chest ballooned again. I was able to wrap her up, and I must admit...I can't believe she is alive. After a week of soft food, more throwing up and daily first aid she is rockin and rolling. Tonight is her first night of solid food and her wound is almost completely healed. A nickle sized amount of whatever herniated has healed outside her body. So she will be the only chicken with a belly button. And it's an outie. I've heard I should have killed her...all week...and there honestly was a point when I thought I would need to. But she had such a fighting spirit. She didn't want to die. So hopefully come next week, Victoria will be back in the coop and we will not be room mates anymore.
Two days after I found Matilda I found another dead chicken down in the coop. I was so angry because I had checked all of them the night before to make sure they were well...they all had bright eyes, nice red combs and wattles...no one else had an impaction. And yet there she was...one of my buff orpingtons. It had to have been Butter or Jelly...I refuse to believe it was Peanut who I am quite fond of, but I honestly can't tell them apart. Anyway she was found under the highest perch in the coop and had no obvious marks on her. Rigamortis had already set in and her legs were straight out and her neck was bent backwards. After doing some research online, it turns out chickens can easily be spooked, causing a heart attack or stroke. And they can fall right off their perches and break their necks. I looked and looked for over an hour, and this happened to several people. And when found, their hens looked just like mine.
I took it really hard. Having just lost Matilda, Victoria barely hanging on to life in my room, and now Butter was dead. I felt like I was doing something wrong... I decided to withhold the chicken's eggs for a week just in case it was something wrong with the entire flock. I hated throwing the eggs away knowing they were perfectly good, but I couldn't take chances. I also made the decision that if I lost another chicken, I would send it to the University for a necropsy. That's what they call a little chicken autopsy. But I knew in my gut the two deaths were unrelated.
Yesterday when I got home, I found my dog Bubba in his kennel, and his entire head and neck were covered with blood. There was so much blood, I couldn't see what was bleeding...where the wound was. Him and Belle have a 20x30 foot kennel made of chain link fence, and it is 6' high. Not just anything could have gotten him. I thought maybe Belle did it while they were wrestling or playing, which they often do. But Belle didn't have a drop of blood on her. I brought them in, and started to clean Bubba up. He had a tear in his ear over an inch long, and the end of his ear was just flopping around. He also had several scratches on his nose, and some kind of flesh wound on his cheek. I cleaned him up, and asked him what happened....he just looked at me. I don't know if it was a raccoon that he cornered or what, but him and I decided to go with the story that he fought off a bear...at least that's what he is telling all of his friends.
I feel as if God, or whatever higher power that is watching over me is trying to prove something to me. Ever since P left for somewhere the grass is greener, it seems as if I have been thrown challenge after challenge. The flood, the sick and dead animals...Is it that someone up there somewhere wants to prove to me that I can handle all of this on my own? If that's the case, "HEY BIG TALL AND STUDLY IN THE SKY!!! I KNEW I COULD HANDLE THIS ON MY OWN!!!" Sigh. I guess if I had any doubts they were covered...him and I are on the same page now.

A rough day on the farm...

Sigh...where do I start? Vickie is starting to look better. I noticed yesterday when I went to massage her crop, that it was split wide open on her chest. I don't know if she pecked at it, clawed it with her foot, or if it just split because it ballooned too big. But part of her crop was hanging out, and the whole thing was a bloody matted mess. Her feathers stuck to it, and it was hard to clean. I cut away feathers with scissors to try to keep the area clean. For the most part she held perfectly still. Her ballooning had completely gone away, (I'm guessing the throwing up helped,) and she had a baseball sized mass in her throat...I'm guessing the blockage. I wrapped her in a towel, and laid her on her back. I had nothing to stitch her up, and the opening, (about 2 inches around) was so jagged and feather matted, I wasn't sure where to start. I thought about what MY mom would have done if it were me, and I poured hydrogen peroxide on it... ok ok...that's NOT what my mom would have done, but I figured it was a start. I wrapped her with a towel around her chest, so she couldn't get to it. Then I took her to the sink and washed her feet. That way if she did claw at it, it wouldn't be getting dirty. The closest thing I could grab was my Burts Bees shower gel. I could tell the citrus scent made her feel energized. After I dried her feet off, I put her in a laundry hamper on my bed and just watched her for awhile. Her eyes were closed so long I thought she died. Then she opened them and decided she didn't want to be wrapped in a towel. So I wrapped her again, (successfully after 4 tries) and put her to sleep in her kennel. I prayed she would be alive this morning.
This morning she was out of her towel again, and she hadn't eaten any of her applesauce that I snuck mineral oil into. It was 4 in the morning, and I tried to give her some oil before I went to work. She clamped her jaw shut, and wasn't having any of it. I once again thought, "What would my mom do?" So I moved the eyedropper like an airplane and sang, "There was a bee, up in a tree, and down it came..." Thank God chickens can't talk. Because she looked at me like "Are you f*ing kidding me?!" I checked her chest again, and wrapped her up before I went to work.
I spent the day certain I was going to have to stitch her up tonight. She seemed to be gaining at least a tiny bit of energy, but she still wasn't passing her blockage, and I couldn't massage her crop anymore with her chest ripped open.
I went to work, (I know...today is Saturday,) and on my way out, I tripped going up a flight of concrete stairs. I scratched my hand and it bled a little, and landed hard on my left knee. Thank God no one saw! I hobbled to my tahoe and headed home. I didn't even want to look at my knee. And even though it was throbbing, there was no way in hell I was going to go to the doctor, because it's been awhile since I've shaved my legs...
So I got home and went right down to the coop. Son of a B*tch. (No not butch). The other chicken that hadn't been doing well was dead in the corner of the coop. I'm so pissed at myself for not bringing her up to the house too. She looked like she was hanging in there...and Victoria was so much worse. Looked like she just fell asleep and didn't wake up. I think the cold was too much for her...she had looked fine and was eating and drinking...she just seemed a little down on her energy. I could kick myself right now. I really think I could have saved her. :( Sigh...she didn't really have a name...but I feel I need to give her one. Rest in Peace Matilda. I'm sorry I didn't help you sooner...
So I drove up to the house thinking if Victoria was dead, that I was going to flip. I went into my bedroom, and I was relieved to hear her start sqwaking at me. I picked her up, and it felt like her obstruction was shrinking. I looked in the kennel, and sure enough there were a few really solid poops, and some masses of what looked like grass. She explored my bedroom while I cleaned the kennel. I told her about Matilda while I cleaned her water... Vickie didn't say anything in return. When I turned around to see why she was so quiet, I found her head in the food bag. I ran over to her, and picked her up. Real chicken food could cause her to become impacted again! I set up a little operating table and wrapped her up in a towel so I could look at her chest. She held very still while I cut away more feathers. The size of the wound had gone down a significant amount with the shrinking of her crop. It had also scabbed over, with feathers imbedded in various parts of the scab. I didn't want it to get infected, so I pulled most of it off, and cleaned it with the solution we had got for Wynnona's toe. I then put the ointment on it that we had left over from Wynnona. I sang her "Little Lamb," a song my mom used to sing me, hoping it would soothe her...Either she was soothed, or she was nervous about my scissor skills, because she held perfectly still.
When I was done, I gave her a special mash consisting of hot water, her chicken feed, and yes...mineral oil...
She fell for it, because she quickly gobbled it all up. She is 100 times better than she was yesterday. A lot more energy...and a perkier disposition. I think she will make it.
Today was a rough day on the farm...but tomorrow is a new day. My knee is throbbing, so I am going to hit the hay...to help the new day get here a little faster.
RIP Matilda...down to 25.

Paging Dr. Bianco...come in Dr. Bianco

The last few days, I've noticed two of the girls not doing so hot. And they both look like they have different things going on.
One of them, the only speckled sussex I have left, Victoria, (named after the vampire, not the queen,) looks awful...poor baby. She is all puffed up, and her face looks like she just wants to die. So I picked her up last night, and her entire chest felt like a water balloon...it wasn't solid, and it was the size of a grapefruit. She was practically dragging it last night when I picked her up. So I put her in a carrier, and brought her up to the farm hospital...my bedroom. I made her comfortable, and then got online to try to find out what was going on. At least with Wynonna, it was obviously her toe. I was worried, "ballooned chest on chicken," wouldn't get me too far on google. Fortunately I was wrong...
A ballooned chest on a chicken can mean one of three things, and fortunately they can all be treated the same way...The first is called "Pendulum crop" which means gas or food have built up in the crop so much that the muscles relax, and never go back...kind of like boobs after breast feeding. Another is sour crop, which is a build-up of yeast in the crop by a vitamin deficiency, and that also causes gas that balloons the crop. The last possibility, which I think Victoria may have is impacted crop. Which can be caused by eating too fast. Maybe she needs a special bowl like we have for our dogs. Bubba eats so fast he'll start gagging on the food. Anyway, Vickie must have eaten food to fast, and now has a blockage...and the lack of moisture prevents it from moving down into the gizzard. Kind of like a person eating a package of saltines with no water...
So treatment...I LOVE the different threads online by chicken lovers...I guess impacted crop is a common problem, and most of the solutions were the same.
1) Remove all food from the chicken because by eating, they will just continue to add to the backup.
2) Provide plenty of water, with a touch of apple cider vinegar....this will perk up a down chicken.
**From here on out, its kind of graphic...so don't read this while eating...or thinking about eating for that matter.**
3) Pick up the chicken, and hold it upside down. (I'm not kidding.) This will make the chicken start to vomit.
So I did it. I picked her up, and held her upside down over an old towel. Poor baby started to throw up. Too bad inducing vomiting isn't that easy for other animals and people. People would be standing on their heads instead of putting their fingers down their throats...
Anyway, it was all liquid, and she just opened her little beak and it started flowing. And my God did it stink...this sour putrid smell. I wanted to throw up myself, but the towel wasn't big enough for the both of us. I held her right side up, and massaged her crop a little bit. The "balloon" had gone down by about half. I put her in her kennel, and she began to drink water. I gave her a little break and went to do more research.
After about 15 minutes, I came back and did it again. Just a little more this time.
I read online that there are only two ways of removing the impaction...surgically cutting the crop open, or inserting a tube down the chicken's throat and pouring mineral oil down the tube. Then massage the crop to loosen the impaction, and next time you put the chicken upside down, it should start to come out with help from me, the lovely assistant. Then they should go on a diet of soft foods for a week before returning to the flock.
So this is where I am at today. I tried giving her applesauce with vegetable oil, to see if she would EAT the oil, instead of me pouring it down her throat. She didn't look good this morning, but if she can make it till I can get home, the tube feeding will be next. If I can save Vicki, I surely can do anything? One more badge for my sash...

Something to ponder...

This last Monday, I was on my way to work at 5 something in the morning. I was trying to pump myself up to go back, after ten days off...secretly counting the 300 and something plus more days until I would have 10 days off again. "Think about all the people without jobs," I thought to myself..."that would trade you places right now in a heartbeat..." I straightened in the driver's seat peering into the dark on my way to what provided the roof over my head...the heat in my home, and the food in Mariah's and my mouth...
A story came on the radio about a woman who had cancer. She called her story "We all have an expiration date." It was about living life to the fullest, because you never know what tomorrow will bring. Tell your loved ones you love them. Call the ones you've been meaning to, but figured you would later get around to it. Jump out of that plane...go on that trip... Like the song says, "Live like you were dying".
I found out the same day that a very near and dear friend of mine found out her 5 year old son has Leukemia. One day they were all at home as a family, and the next day their world was turned upside down, and he was in a hospital receiving chemo. And you thought you had a rough day??? Just remember...when life gets tough...kick it in the ass. Rise above it and give it all youve got. Somebody somewhere has things a lot tougher than you do. Life is what YOU make it. Don't be a victim to circumstance. Little Hunter is kicking Leukemia's ass....
Give today 100%. And if you are lucky enough to open your eyes tomorrow. Give tomorrow 100%.
Isn't there someone you should be calling right now???
We all have an expiration date.