Chick Check, Week Five

Has it already been five weeks since I brought these little yellow puffs of fluff home with me?  Click here to see them at two days old.

This is what the Cornish crosses look like at five weeks:

And I don't call them endearing little names like fluffballs or puffychicks any more.  They are crazy insane eating machines that flap towards me at meal time, peck my shoes and hands when I pour food into their bowls and are crapping constantly.
I finally moved the Cornish to the chicken tractor (dog kennel) yesterday afternoon.  I'm like two weeks behind, but oh well.  It just made more work for me though as I had to clean out the shed more often because of the massive amounts of chicken poop accumulating on the straw bedding.


The Barnyard Mutts seemed much happier once the Cornish vacated the premises.  They've got the entire joint to themselves now.  I cleaned it out, put in new bedding (wasted hay), gave them fresh water & feed and everyone was chirping away happily.  No pecking at me, no flapping in my face.  When the Cornish were in there it was loud (they are big sqwakers) but now it's almost Zen-like with the sound of softly peeping chicks.  Rhiannon and I can now go back to chicken watching without fear of being attacked or pooped on.

Since my clothes were already covered in barn dust and there was a half-inch of chicken poop stuck to the bottom of my shoes, I figured I may as well clean out the other side of the coop where the big gals roost / lay.  It wasn't too bad and I probably could have got away with not cleaning it for another couple of weeks, but I'm glad it's done.  The amount of moulted feathers was amazing; I swear it looks like someone threw a chicken-bomb in there.

I'm thinking I'm going to give myself Sundays off from blogging; goodness knows that there's plenty else I should be doing instead of sitting in front of the computer.  Have to take advantage of this nice weather while it lasts. 

Have a nice weekend & see ya Monday morning!

Slowing Down

Fall is here, and although that doesn't necessarily mean the humans are slowing down (lots of wood to chop, split & stack still), the goats and chickens have definately slowed down in their milk & egg production.

Nettie has been dried up since the beginning of the Summer because of her bout with Mastitis, and Annette's production has significantly dropped in the past three weeks; she's been milking for six months now.   Ishtar is also slowing down, but is still putting out just under a gallon a day.  She's been milking for five months now and I usually dry them up around eight months.  I know they say you can milk them for up to ten months, but I really like to give them a full four months of their energy to go into their pregnancy. 

In my quest to take full advantage of the abundant goat milk we had this summer, I've been making cheese (fresh, Queso Blanco kind'a stuff) and freezing some of it for the winter.  It freezes pretty well, although it's best used as an ingredient in a meal like lasagna as there is some separating of the cheese & whey after defrosting.  Works fine in a baked dish, but isn't as good used for spreading on crackers or toast as the consistency is different.

From a gallon and a half of milk, I'll get just under two pounds of fresh cheese and I have about a dozen packages in the freezer already.  I've been toying with the idea of freezing a few half-gallon jugs of milk, but I don't think we'll have the freezer space with a 1/2 hog and hopefully a deer or two in the near future.

The chickens are also laying less.  I've noticed a huge drop in egg numbers this past month.  We have thirteen hens, but I've only been getting on average four eggs a day.  The length of daylight is waning and there is an abundance of feathers in the bottom of the chicken coop as most have started moulting.  It almost looks as if a chicken exploded.

There was a time last year when we wouldn't get a single egg for several days.  And since I am an egg-snob, I wasn't buying them at the supermarket so we'd just do without.  We have powdered eggs in our long-term pantry and I can use them in just about any baked product, but sometimes you just need to have a fried egg on toast, and those powdered eggs just don't hack it.  I'm not looking forward to an egg-less winter.  Not one bit.  But if we're lucky, our Barnyard Mutts will just be starting to lay the first part of March and hopefully make up for any still-moulting older hens.

Enola Gay over at Paratus Familia just did a blog post about keeping eggs in Water Glass and although I've been tempted to try it, I think I'm just too "chicken" to do it.  Although I suppose I should try it just for the experience. 

Otherwise we'll do what we've done in the past; if the chickens aren't laying eggs, we're not eating eggs & if the goats aren't milking, we're not drinking milk.  Hasn't killed us yet.....and it probably won't hurt my waist line either!

"Oh look, yummy!" or "I hope I don't die"

While walking around the property with Rhiannon yesterday, I happened upon a curious, yet somewhat familiar looking plant growing in the ditch alongside our road:

Looks like ground cherries (or husk cherries), what a treat!  I didn't know they grew wild.  But the seeds easily could have made it from my compost heap just up the hill to this final resting and growing place.  I tried to grow ground cherries from seed last year, but nothing came up so I just tossed all the soil and seeds into the compost pile.

Technically, I've never seen a live ground cherry plant.  But I've seen pictures.  And how many plants have little dried paper lantern looking things covering round tomato-looking fruits?

So I popped several in my mouth.  None of them were really yellow yet, but they still tasted good.  Kind of like tomatillos actually, but in a smaller package.  The two are probably related, I should look that up. 

And having swallowed a handful of the fruits, I had one of those hot-flash moments.  Shit.  Are there poisonous look alikes?  I made my way back towards the house, all the while continually reminding myself the entire walk that I was sure that those were ground cherries. (Right?  Right.  I'm sure.  Well, not 100%, but close.  It tasted like it should have; it it were poisonous, it would have tasted bad.  Right?  Shit. Where's the Ipecac syrup?).

Well it seems that they were, in fact, ground cherries.  One website said that the leaves and unripe fruits are poisonous, while other posts in vegetable forums said that the fruits are fine.  It is part of the Nightshade family, so I can understand the extra caution given to anything about them.  I also saw several forum posters griping that they couldn't start them from seed, but once you got them going, they volunteer like crazy. 

I'm going to keep an eye on this plant and harvest some more for eating as they ripen, but I think I'll keep several to dry up and use them for seeds next year. 

Wait....was there a lesson in all of this?  If so, I've forgotton.

Oh look, something growing alongside the road!

Table Side Review - Baked Eggplant

Last night, I made the Eggplant dish using the recipe from Hobby Farms (Sept/Oct 2011 issue, pg. 77) called Baked Eggplant with Creamy Roasted Garlic and Oregano Sauce.

I served it alongside spaghetti in a simple olive oil, garlic, parmesan and goat cheese topping.

First of all, let me disclose that I am not a professional chef, nor do I play one on television.  I also had to improvise on two things.  I did not have Greek Oregano, be it in fresh or dried form, so I used plain ol' dried oregano.  I also did not use the fresh mint it called for in the recipe as I really don't like mint in anything other than a cup of tea or in a red & white striped stick of candy during the holdiays.  

I am also not an Eggplant connoisseur, so the main vegetable in this dish may have been a bit under-ripe, a bit over-ripe, a bit something other than perfect, but to me, it seemed something that one would want in an Eggplant; firm with some give, not too many seeds, and well, eggplant-looking.

Oh, and I did not know that eggplant absorbs olive oil like a sponge.  When the directions say "brush chunks all over with remaining oil", do NOT save time by drizzling the oil over the bowl of eggplant as it gets sucked up like you wouldn't believe.  Luckily, I noticed this before getting more than a half dozen chunks saturated.

Now that I've finished with that, I'll go on with the cooking and subsequent dining experience.

I followed the recipe as closely as humanly possible with a 2 1/2 year old chasing the cat around the kitchen with the egg beater (the old fashioned kind, not an electric one).

Basically, it's eggplant cut into 1" cubes, baked in the oven for a 1/2 hour then tossed with a yogurt-based garlic and oregano sauce.

Everyone sat down to the dinner table, awaiting the new eggplant taste sensation.  I dug in immediately, but Paul was a bit more hesitant.  He knew I said we were having eggplant, but thought the chunks were chicken or "something else", so was a bit confused as to the true identity of the creamy covered lumps on the plate.  I was in mid-chew of my first forkfull of eggplant-garlic-sauce thing when I looked up at Paul.  He had the most serious, but subdued look on his face and calmly said, "I don't think I can eat this".  I think there may have even been a slight glimmer of horror in his eyes, afraid I was somehow going to make him eat it.

Now this is the man that has only refused to eat two other dishes I've ever made in over a decade of meal preperation.  One being a train-wreck of a lentil casserole dish (and we both love lentils) and some other concoction now long forgotten and relegated to the dark subconscious of our respective temporal lobes.

So I continue chewing on my eggplant, swallow, and ask exactly why he doesn't like it.  Not that I'm questioning his personal abhorrence for the dish, but because I am curious as to what improvements could be made (if any) to save the dish.  He said it tasted like something mushy and chewy at the same time, covered in that sauce they put on gyros.  And you know what?  He was right.  But I am obviously much more tolerant of mushy/chewy textures in food than he is as I finished my portion and relieved him of his.

I'm not sure if I finished mine (and half of his) because it was something I made and therefore must consume, because I was trying to convince myself that it was good, or because I just h.a.t.e. to waste food.   Don't get me wrong, I don't think it was the worst thing I've ever tasted, it's just something I won't be making again.  Like ever. 

While cleaning up dinner dishes, I was putting away what little was left over from the spaghetti (not much as it became the main part of Paul's meal) and actually hesitated putting the eggplant into a container.  But I did anyhow.  Because darnit, I made it and I'm gonna eat it.

Oh, did I also forget to mention that I didn't have yogurt?  I usually have at least a quart of it shoved somewhere in the back of the fridge.  But not this time.  So I actually had to have Paul pick up a container of Greek-style yogurt from the store on his way home.  Which cost over six bucks!  So not only did the dinner not make the recipe box, but it cost me a six dollar container of yogurt.

I'll let you know tomorrow morning if the chickens got it for breakfast.

Plural (and Purple) Garden Harvest

Unlike my Tomato and Potato harvest this year, my Eggplants are doing very well! 
 

I bought these plants as overgrown-for-their-pots seedlings at the nursery late in the season and got them for half-off and put them in the "berry" garden.  They survived any nibbling of the bunny bastard, unlike my green beans.  Not sure if rabbits don’t care for vegetables in the nightshade family or because it cannot fathom the idea of eating a plant with the alternate name of Aubergine.  Sounds too fancy.  Actually, when someone says “Aubergine”, I either immediately do a mental eye-roll because they are probably just trying to seem fancy-pants, or think it sounds like it should be the name of a high-end Swedish car company.

Wow.  How I manage to go from Eggplant to a foreign car company is beyond me.

Anyways, here is our first harvest (minus one because Paul breaded & fried it up already…YUM!):

That funky looking one was probably left on the vine too long.  It got lost in the foliage so we didn’t notice it until it got to that stage.  I'm really happy these actually went to fruiting this year.  I planted some from seed last year and they never grew more than six inches high (I think they were root-bound from being in the peat pots too long).  Eggplant is one of those vegetables that are a considered a treat around here because they are too darned expensive in the grocery stores for me to cook very often.

So, besides breading & frying them, or making them into Eggplant Parmesan, I was on a hunt for Eggplant recipes.  And guess what?  There was one in my new Hobby Farms magazine (pg. 77); Thanks again for the gift Tiny Gardener!

So I’m going to give “Baked Eggplant with Creamy Roasted-garlic and Oregano Sauce” a try some time this week.  Stay tuned for a pictoral and table-side review!

The Logistics of Hay

It shouldn't really be this difficult.  You know.  Getting grass to your critters.

But it can be.  And it is here.  It's just grass for gawdssakes!  You know, that green stuff that people mow in their front lawns (to be thrown into compost piles, or into the garbage, or left to blow around the neighborhood!) or brushogged by the Highway Department and spewed onto the streets (my goats could be eating that!!!).  How can something so common, so boring, so completely growing everywhere, be such a nightmare and cause of elevelated blood pressure for livestock owners?

After finding out that our hay guy had sent "our" hay to Texas, I was scrambling through the phone book and searching the local papers to find hay.  I was able to find eight large square bales (what I thought were 4x4) of a decent mixed grass hay at the local feed store for $65 a bale (ouch!) and we went to pick it up last weekend.

I brought the camera to take some pictures and Paul asked if I was going to blog that we finally got hay.  I told him that I probably would.  And he said something to the tune of, "Are you going to tell them we just got hay, or how it REALLY is?" 

Meaning that it's never just as simple as, "Oh, we picked up hay for the mule today".  And to give Paul credit (which he deserves lots and LOTS of for putting up with me), I'd like to give you HIS portrayal of what it takes to simply "get hay".  So here's....

Paul's Take

• Move a half-dozen vehicles and trailers around to access the trailer to be used to haul the hay.
• Find out that the window on the truck was open during an overnight rain and go back to the house to get towels to soak up the water from the carpets. 
• Hook up truck to trailer and make sure brake lights / turn signals are working properly.  Which they are not.  Because a frekking packrat has chewed through the wires.
• Go back to house to get tools.
• Fix trailer light wires and hook trailer up to truck.
• Fix / fill tire that was supposed to be fixed the last time trailer was hooked up.
• Find tie-down straps and re-roll them because they were just tossed into the truck the last time.
• Drive truck / trailer and car up to the mule barn.  Then everyone gets in truck to go to feed store.
• Wait for employee on fork truck to load eight bales of hay while making sure Carolyn & Rhiannon stay away from the eight-hundred pound, bone and internal organ crushing hazards.
• Mention to Carolyn that those aren't 4'x4' bales of hay, but 3'x3 bales (she told me they were 4's, so now we're getting less hay than I though for the sixty-five bucks)
• Watch employee refill propane tank on fork truck in order to finish loading hay.
• Tie down bales of hay.
• Drive to mule barn.  Everyone exits truck & enters car.
• Drive home.
• Take bucket off tractor front end and put forks on.  Check air pressure in tractor tires.
• Drive tractor to mule barn.
• Unstrap bales of hay.

• Unload bale of hay onto tractor forks, move to barn door and position hay in barn by using straps and chains as tractor will not fit through barn door.
• Repeat another seven times.
• Drive tractor onto trailer.
• Strap tractor down & drive back home.
• Arrive home and have Carolyn say, "What took you so long?"
• Blood pressure rises.  Resist urge to say something nasty.  Procure alcoholic beverage.

I look at the above steps and realize that there are still things missing.  Mundane things you don't really think about, but that still require time and effort.  That list is pretty long, and boring.  But that was kind of the point of writing it out. 

Getting hay isn't as simple as, well, "Getting Hay".  Unless, of course, you have the hay delivered to you. 

Which might be a good idea next time.

Chick Check, Week Four

Chicks at two days old:

Chicks at four weeks old (use the waterer as a size reference):

The Cornish crosses are growing, well, like Cornish crosses.  I figure that the remaining open bag of chick starter will last another two days; meaning that they will have gone though 175 lbs. of food.

I went a week before I cleaned out the stall this time & it was pretty bad.  The hay gets too matted too quickly and the chicks can't easily scratch around through the hay to help dry out the poop.  I put down more wasted hay because that was all we have right now, but I'm going to make a trip to the local cabinet maker and see if he has any sawdust  and shavings that I can have for the hauling.

I used to use sawdust for bedding, but most of it was too fine and it was leaving a pretty thick layer of dust on everything else in the barn.  I think I'll put half sawdust and half wasted hay down next time.  And by then, I should have the Cornish out in the chicken tractor so it won't get soiled as fast and I won't have to clean it every week with just the Barnyard Mutts in there.

I've also turned off the heat lamps.  Last night it got down to 40 degrees, and everyone was huddled in three or four groups, but otherwise perked right up when I opened the door.....expecting breakfast of course.

The Cornish are crazy nuts when I go to put the feed in there.  I have to swat them away from the food dish or it just gets poured on top of them.  The Barnyard Mutts just hang out on the sidelines until the initial mayhem has subsided, then make their way up to the feed trays. 

So far, no one seems to be lacking food, water or a space to nap uninterrupted (well, as far a chicken life goes) together in the barn. 

Four more weeks to go; we're already half way to butchering time.