Yes, snake photos! Story to follow.

One of the things I love the most about living here is the variety of wildlife that I get to see every day. There is nothing to brighten my day more than a chance encounter with a representative of the Great Outdoors.

Usually, these encounters take place in very unexpected ways, precisely when you're not expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen. It was definitely this way when I walked down my staircase last week, and saw one of my cats peering into the sunroom, with an incredibly confused (and maybe, a little freaked out) look on her face. My first thought was that somehow, one of the dogs had finally found a way to break out of the kennel. What else could make my cats look so concerned? To my surprise, though, when I peeked out the sunroom window, I found a hummingbird, rapidly beating her wings against the ceiling and glass doors trying to escape. Somehow, she'd flown in and couldn't figure out how to get back outside.

I sprinted outside and grabbed my good ol' fashioned bug net, and carefully propped myself up on a chair, balancing with the net just underneath the tiny little bird. I could see that it was a female ruby-throated hummingbird, and to be honest I spent a moment marveling at seeing this creature up close before I gently closed the net around her panicked body. She beat her wings against the net in a frenzy until I carried it outside, where she immediately relaxed and perched her tiny feet on the mesh. I reached in slowly, coaxed her to perch on my finger, and as soon as my hand left the mouth of the net, she was gone - buzzed up into the sky like a speeding rocket and soared over the top of the treeline. I don't think I'll ever be so fortunate to see another hummingbird that close. It was awesome.

Last night, when Byron and I were taking an evening bat-watching tour - which consists of walking to the buggiest part of the park at twilight and staying very quiet - we found more than just bats (which are incredible animals to watch, by the way). Coiled precariously on the path was a tiny Eastern milk snake, bravely poised to strike my husband's approaching shoe. I pretty much get beside myself with glee when I see a snake in the wild. It's just one of those things. So, without further ado, I swept in and scooped up the little guy, and carried him the whole way home with a huge dorky grin on my face. I got tagged three times throughout the journey, which is, of course, just a natural part of the game. It was definitely one of those times when I'm glad that I can positively identify non-venomous snakes. When I got home, I settled him into one of my own, pet snake hatchling cages for the night, with plans to photograph and release him in the morning.

True to my word, I set him free today after a few minutes of photography. He was a fiesty little guy and bit me twice more before scurrying off into the woods at the edge of our property. Not quite as friendly a creature as the hummingbird, but to me (at least), every bit as charming.

Summer herb harvesting

I took the first cuttings of herbs from the little container garden I planted back in June. They had simply exploded since planting - with just a little supplemental watering here and there. I've been checking the soil moisture daily, and to my amazement, it seems that the self-watering planter is actually working as it should! Even in dry periods, the soil has been consistently cool and moist, even the top inch. I've only had to water the planter maybe 3 times since it was planted.

I pinched a small handful of basil and thyme for myself this evening, in the hopes of making an herb bread, and a batch of purple basil pesto. There wasn't much to harvest, but since the herbs will get bushier with every vigorous pruning, I'm hoping to get quite a bit more in a few weeks.

I still have sage and oregano left untouched in the container. I'm a little apprehensive about pruning the sage, since I've read it needs to be harvested sparingly during the first year. And the oregano hasn't really grown large enough yet for me to feel comfortable taking any sprigs for myself.

Meanwhile, in two homemade planters on the kennel, I planted a variety of mints and lemon balm (which were purchased from a friendly group of authentic hippies living about an hour south - definitely an adventure, that). They are growing amazingly well, and have such a nice variety of aromas. Being the mint grower that I now am, I'm now spotting mint everywhere - I found a very healthy patch of wild mint growing along the edge of our gravel driveway near the woods this evening. Of course, I just had to break off a snippet to compare the fragrance. Well, as wild plants often do, it made the cultivated mint pale in comparison. The fragrance was incredibly aromatic and spicy, with a sharpness that the container mint lacked. I imagine the cultivated mint is probably much sweeter and better for cooking, but the wild variety would likely be incredible in candles or steeped for tea. I'm going to snip a few cuttings off tomorrow and get them to root in some water, and replant them in one of my deck containers.

There is much more to talk about other than herbs, but that will have to wait for another day. A girl can only write so much!

Wolfish jam session

Solar powered

Found this little guy adorning my chicken run fence this morning, while I was letting the girls out of the coop. It doesn't take much to get me smiling these days.

Poor Boots.

Boots is my White Sultan hen. Normally, she looks so poofy that she can hardly see out from under her little white crest... I think she is actually a rejected Muppet. But when this photo was taken, she had just come out from the shower, and none too happy about it.

I found a spot of blood in the coop yesterday when I let the girls out in the morning, and being the paranoid chicken mother that I am, I had to check everyone over, toes to comb, for injuries. I didn't find anything definitive, but one of Boots' feet seemed to be a little sore, so I decided to take her inside and give her a bath so I could get a closer look. She has such heavily-feathered feet that it's almost impossible to see clear down to the toes without getting her wet - and I figured if I was going to get her legs soaked anyway, why not do the whole hen?

Turns out that she had an injured feather shaft that was a little bloody. I don't know if one of the other hens picked at her feet, or if she might have injured it some other way - but I got it cleaned up and disinfected, and it seems much better today.

Hopefully I won't be bathing any more chickens anytime soon, but hey, I'll try anything once. I'm not sure that Boots would agree.

The lonesome little garden

Well, here it is at the end of June, and me with only one lonesome little container garden.

My seedlings met with absolute disaster, and although I have no idea where I went wrong, I ended up with only a few starts of tomatoes, peppers, and melons. All my herbs and several vegetables succumbed right as I was about to begin laying the groundwork for the new gardens.

All is not lost, however. I went out on Wednesday and replaced a portion of my herbs with new transplants from Trader Joe's. OK, so it's not as self-sufficient as starting from seed, but at least I now have a little gardening going on. I'm greatly enjoying the little container, and can't wait to plant its clone next week with the other remaining herbs - dill, parsley, and chamomile.

The other good news is that my dad tilled up a sizable portion in his backyard for me to start my remaining plants in. I can't wait to get over there and get everything put into the soil. There was no way I could have gotten my own gardens built in time, so I'm extremely grateful for the little patch of soil he loaned me.

(By the way, the container pictured is one of the self-watering containers I built back in early May. It's my first time using one, especially a DIY job, so time will tell how it works out.)

They're coming to take me away, hehe...

Just a little something on the lighter side. This photo absolutely cracks me up! As you can probably guess, that's Jasper, during the long car ride home from the shelter.

He's every bit as crazy as he appears in the photo. I mean that in the best possible way.

The show must go on

By 1:00 am on Monday morning, my husband was dialing for an ambulance and I was heading off to the emergency room.

Yep, I told you that things went downhill fast!

Don't worry, it wasn't some crazy farming accident. I didn't impale myself on cattle panel, catch some horrible zoological disease, or get mauled by the dogs.

To be honest, even now, no one is really sure what exactly did happen to me that night - other than the fact that I went from totally normal, to suffering from excruciating abdominal pain in under 2 hours. (It's not the first time that this has happened - the last time, when I lived in Columbus, I was also taken to the ER; but, the hospital never saw me, and I fell asleep in the waiting room after suffering for 10 hours straight. Woke up the next morning, spent a week in recovery at home, and haven't had a single problem since. It's been nearly two years since that incident.)

The staff in the hospital were wonderful, and took excellent care of me. After getting some serious relief from an IV and pain meds, I fell asleep quickly and spent all of Monday in the hospital, going in and out of sleep. I was completely exhausted and wasn't fully comprehending much, thanks to the strong pain medications the night before. By Tuesday morning, though, I was feeling much better and ready to get back home. A lot of soreness still persisted (and still does, 4 days later), but it was clear that the worst was over.

Over the 2 days I spent hospitalized, doctors came in and went over my CAT scans with me, but there wasn't very much to conclude from them, unfortunately. The potential causes mentioned included:

-Scar tissue buildup from surgeries I had as a child
-Dilated appendix
-Paralysis/dysfunction of the ilieum
-Chron's disease

Needless to say, ignoring serious issues like that is not an option. I have followup appointments over the next two weeks to try and obtain a clearer diagnosis.

In the meantime, I'm just trying to get back into my normal routines, and do as much work as I can without overtaxing myself. No matter what, as one of my favorite authors likes to say: life rolls. As unfortunate as it might sound, the dogs, cats, chickens, gardens, and farm are all indifferent to my pain and exhaustion. The show must go on...

Pre-mayhem

Well, I'm sitting here typing away again, after a truly crazy weekend and week.

Although the real mayhem didn't begin until later, I guess the best place to start would be Saturday afternoon. Byron and I headed north to my hometown to attend the annual community garage sales. We really got lucky, and brought home a treasure trove of great finds - among them, $4 fondue set, new in box; a $10 industrial livestock/barn cooling fan; a $10 antique metronome from the early 1900's. I just love garage sales! Many of my most treasured kitchen tools have come to me that way. I wouldn't be baking bread or drying my own vegetables and herbs if it wasn't for garage sales!

On Sunday morning, we undertook another little adventure. My husband and I have been really hoping to get a portion of the yard fenced in for the dogs soon - they really need the space for free-running, especially now that it's warm and all they want to do is lounge around in the kennel all day. They really need that extra motivation to keep them exercising. So, after realizing over the last several months that no pre-made fence was going to suit our needs, we decided to construct our own fence out of 16' x 4' cattle panel and wood post.

So, on Sunday morning, my husband, parents, and I rented a 17' Uhaul trailer, headed off to Tractor Supply Company, and picked up 50 4-foot cattle panels and 50 6' posts. It was pretty uneventful for such a big job, which was pretty surprising.

The rest of Father's Day was spent relaxing and visiting with my dad at his house. We had a wonderful visit and I really enjoyed spending time with everyone.

Sunday night was when things really went downhill, and there's enough there for a separate post...

The first step...

Is admitting you have a problem. In our case, a problem with flies.

Our property is in the beginning throes of fly war. I first noticed them showing up about two weeks ago - biting flies, pest flies, horseflies, deerflies, every kind of fly you can imagine, coming in droves. It's getting to the point that a nice lunch outside, or a nap on the hammock, is becoming a major turf battle.

I can understand why this is happening, though. Between the kennel, the chicken coop, the (as-yet-unoccupied) barn, and the woods nearby, flies are bound to appear. Combine that with the not-so-sound property management that I struggled with over the winter and spring (namely, cleaning out wheelbarrows full of once-frozen shavings and straw from the kennel when it thawed), and we have quite the problem on our hands now. At least I've learned from my mistakes and won't be repeating the same methods in the kennel again this coming winter - and I now have a functional compost pile that greatly cuts down on lawn and chicken coop wastes.

Still, something needs to be done - I know that if I let them get established this year, next year they'd be even worse, no matter how I manage the property. So, enter Spalding Lab's Fly Predators. I've heard nothing but good about these guys from the horsewomen I know, not to mention on numerous online review sites and blogs. Basically, they are tiny, parasitic wasps that hatch on the property and attack flies and their larvae. They are almost too small to see, and don't sting - so it's almost like they're not even there. They can't survive the harsh winters here, either, so there is no chance of them becoming established in the environment.

My first shipment of these guys should be arriving by the end of next week. Here's hoping they can help me win the war against the flies before it even really starts...

Resident couch potato

Early summer blooms

The best kind of neighbor

On Sunday, while I was away studying wolves (true story - how do normal people spend their weekends?), Byron headed over to our next-door neighbor to give her some help on her computer. When I got back home from my little adventure, I found this huge, beautiful jar of sweet treasure sitting on my fireplace hearth. A gift given in thanks for some simple neighborly assistance.

It's the biggest jar of real, raw, locally-produced honey I have EVER seen. I don't think there is any way to communicate to my wonderful neighbor how much this gift is appreciated over here... except to blog about it and shout thanks to the Internet heavens. I did call her and thank her profusely but I'm not sure I made it clear what a completely wonderful gift this really is, considering:

-I use honey instead of sugar in almost everything I cook or bake - it's better for maintaining blood sugar levels without a spike, and healthier than refined white sugar
-I am a local food nut
-I am a raw food nut
-I have been wanting to try true local honey for years!

It's gone to sugar so it needs a little reheating to get back to liquid form, but I can't wait to crack this jar open. In fact, I think I might just have to go do that now...

Jasper can fly

...or, "Why Wolfdogs Require a Very Tall Fence".

As some of you know, I have a new foster dog here that was just pulled from a county pound a couple weeks ago. His name is Jasper, and he is a wolfdog (wolf hybrid). I've been helping a wolf rescue organization for the past several months, learning how to evaluate and temperament-test animals, as well as take photographs and help transport the wolfdogs to their destinations. Jasper is the first wolfdog foster I have had here in several months.

I caught Jasper and Willow playing together last night, and was just amazed at the aerial acrobatics this animal could pull off. Willow is capable of feats like this as well, but generally doesn't bother to expend so much energy at once (unless she is directing that energy towards scaling a fence). I wish the lighting could have allowed for better photos, but I'm sure this isn't the last time I'll see Jasper attempting to take flight.

Compost is go

This post is coming late after quite a whirlwind weekend, but I'm just now recovering enough from all the hard work to actually write about it!

I woke up on Saturday morning around 7:00 am, got the farm chores out of the way, and then headed out to one of our local farmer's markets with my mother and stepfather. The Countryside Conversancy market was the first one to open this year, so I figured I'd give them a shot - this is my first season of farmer's markets in my new home, so I haven't quite scoped out my favorites yet.

It turned out to be a great market. It was held in a huge field along a State Park, with volunteers directing traffic for parking, and vendors sprawled out along the field in long rows. The atmosphere was casual and friendly, with a live band playing and lots of laughter and chatting to be heard. I brought Bandit along, who thoroughly enjoyed the trip and made lots of new friends. He is a very shy dog, but by the end of the morning, he was actually making a pest of himself, approaching everyone within reach.

We came home with a tote bag full of fresh, grass-fed beef and buffalo hamburger patties, a dozen pastured, free-range eggs, a basket of monster heirloom Brandywine tomatoes, a bunch of spinach, one of the biggest heads of brocolli I've ever seen, a bag full of wonderfully sweet and crisp snap peas, homemade goat's milk fudge, and homemade chevre. There is really nothing like a farmer's market!

When we got back, we grilled up the hamburgers, and had unexpected company drop in for lunch. The hamburgers were absolutely delicious, and the spinach tossed in a homemade sweet-and-sour dressing was terrific too. Of course, everything tastes better when eaten under sunshine, and with good company to boot.





After lunch, we got to work on the new compost bins. I'd been composting all autumn and winter, but the pile that was sprawled out behind the coop was getting unruly, hungrily eating up the lawn as it spread bigger and bigger. Not to mention that turning it daily was a messy job, and just served to make the place look even more disheveled.

To solve the problem, I designed a 3-bin system behind the barn that allows for seperate composting stages: active (adding new material), curing (already full, just letting it cook), and finished (just like it sounds, storage of the finished compost ready to use). My stepfather and I hauled nearly 100 cement paving stones into place to form the base, then built the timber frame on top. The dimensions of the system are 10' long x 8' deep x 4' tall - plenty of space to accomodate lawn clippings, chicken shavings, fall leaves and whatever else might get thrown in there.

The worst part of the job was actually heaving the compost pile from its old location into the bin. I'm sure I lost about 5 pounds in sweat over a two-hour period of shoveling and raking. Byron came out later in the day and planted new grass seed where the pile had been, so hopefully by the end of the week, new green shoots will be poking through once again.

After all this work, I was really, really happy to have a hammock to come home to. Bandit and I just kinda flopped up onto it together, and I think I was out the minute my head hit the ropes. I don't know how long I napped, but by the time I woke up, my family had come back from their own chores, and we spent the night out at the fire pit eating fudge, pretzels, and buffalo jerky.

If only all weekends could be quite this good!

To-do list

Some days, the to-do list is absolutely overwhelming. Today was one of those days!

I didn't actually accomplish the things on this list today, unfortunately. It's just the list of things I absolutely NEED to do in the next week. It's going to be a rough one:

-Clean out boxes and junk in studio; reorganize and set up furniture; figure out a way to vent the spray booth out the window or wall
-Finish paint touchups on a resin model that needs to be shipped by Friday
-Finish painting yet another resin model that needs to be auctioned off by the end of June
-Buy 5 bags of pine shavings for coop at Smith Bros. Mulch
-Buy 3 bags of chicken feed from Meyer Hatchery
-Clean out chicken coop (see next item)
-Level the ground behind a portion of the barn with extra compost, lay pavers as foundation for compost bin, and build wooden compost bin boxes; fill bin #1 with nearly-finished compost, fill bin #2 with grass clippings and chicken coop shavings
-Plan, and build, veggie gardens; add soil/compost mix and plant seedlings (which unfortunately took a nosedive over the weekend)
-Figure out where the snakes' misting system is leaking and fix it, so the cages can be pushed back against the wall and the room cleaned up

Not to mention all the usual daily chores such as feeding and watering the animals, cleaning the litterbox and kennel, watering plants, normal housechores and cooking.

Anyone want a job as a farm assistant? I can pay you in homemade bread and pasta...

Oh glorious day

We now have a fully-functional hammock.

Bandit's big date

Bandit was a very lucky pup today. A friend of mine invited us over to celebrate the 13th birthday of her Husky girl, Nikki. I'm sure Willow would have loved to tag along, but she doesn't always play nicely with other girls.

Of course, Bandit was very happy to meet such a cute new friend, but he was his typical shy self at first. By the end of the day, they were best buddies, and 13-year-old Nikki was absolutely running circles around him!




Beautiful Nikki is still going strong at 13 years of age. It's a testament to the wonderful care that her owner, Mallory, has provided for her.


At first, Bandit kept a respectful distance from Nikki.


But, it wasn't long before they started to play!


Nikki says, "How about a little kiss?" Bandit says, "Umm... but it's only our first date!"

Close calls

I came close to losing this chick tonight.

I really believe that you are never closer to the cycle and life and death than on a farm. Today was one of those days that really reinforced that belief for me.

Earlier this week, the young Polish chicks I've been raising in my sunroom brooder finally made the journey out to the coop, to join their slightly older flockmates. After a few days of careful separation and supervision, I finally let them free in the coop and pen to forage and sunbathe with the others.

The temperatures were beautiful all week - warm, sunny, and in the mid 70's - but they really took a nosedive earlier today, plummeting back to the mid 50's. I checked the weather, and saw there was a frost advisory for tonight with temps in the 30's! Temps this low just aren't safe for young chicks who have yet to develop all their feathers. Even for adult hens, it means flipping on the heat lamp I keep attached to the coop ceiling.

With these temps in mind, I doubled up in a warm sweatshirt and walked out to the coop to put the girls to bed. I shut them safely in their coop every night, and usually I find them already half-asleep on their roosts by the time I arrive. As I laid down a thick bed of fresh straw to help insulate them overnight, I did my nightly chicken count - and came up short.

One of my young Polish chicks was missing.

As I looked around the pen anxiously, I caught a little scurry of movement out of the corner of my eye. Half-hidden underneath the coop (in a space only 3" off the ground) was the missing Polish, looking tired and a little scared, settling down here and there only to get back up and peep. The woven wire fencing I had installed to block the space under the coop was in vain - apparently there was a back entrance I didn't know about before. The temps still hadn't dropped to dangerous levels, but I knew that if I didn't get her out by nightfall, she would fall asleep under there, and not wake up tomorrow morning. It was a terrible, terrible feeling.

I cut a small hole out of the woven wire fence with bolt cutters, grabbed a handful of grain and threw it in front of the hole. For a little over an hour, as I watched the sun setting, I sat hushed in front of that hole, waiting and praying that the little chick would venture out. Several times she poked her head through, only to disappear again.

Thankfully, she finally did squeeze through the hole - and it was the most wonderful feeling to scoop her up in my hands and carry her safely back to her home in the coop. I lined the chicks' bed with fresh straw and threw down an extra cup of chick feed for her and her siblings, and watched as they all huddled together to sleep. I'm pretty sure it was one of the very best feelings in the world.

I guess close calls like these are just part of the package in this kind of lifestyle. It doesn't bother me - I find it more humbling than anything. I'm willing to accept that next time, sadly, the outcome might not be as good. It's difficult, but for me it provides a sobering reminder of how unpredictable this life really is - and like my little chick, how innocent we can be to that fact, even in the thick of things.

Nights like these

I'm convinced that spring nights on this homestead just couldn't be any better. At least, I wouldn't want to spend them any other way.

As I listen to the crickets chirping and watch the bats start appearing in the skies for the night, I walk through the grass towards the barn in an old pair of flip-flops. The grass is dense and soft - an old pasture variety - with crowds of tiny blue and yellow flowers scattered in spots. I guess they are weeds, but they're so beautiful that I don't mind them at all. A few stray purple violets and white strawberry blossoms are peeking out here and there. Along the fencelines and driveway, tall feathery grasses are growing, and the whole place looks ancient and wild, and beautifully lived-in. (I've never really been a fan of a perfectly-manicured yard.)

As I approach the chickens' coop I can see the light inside streaming out into the yard, with sixteen chicken silhouettes in view. I'll stop and sit down inside the coop for a bit, watching the birds. Most days, they are already resting on their perches, but some days, there is an honest-to-goodness chicken party going on. I don't know what gets them so wired some nights, but I arrive at the coop to find a riot of scratching, pecking, flapping and chirping. All they're missing is the boom box, and it's a pretty funny sight. Sometimes, a hen or two decides to visit me and settle down on my shoulders - I'm not sure what to make of this yet, but as long as they don't think I'm a good place to do their business, I don't really mind.

After the chickens are put to bed, I stroll back across the lawn towards the dogs. Most nights, I get distracted on the way, and end up touring the yard before I make it back to the house and kennel. I observe the new growth in the gardens, the changes in the trees, any critters hanging out in the pond, and finally make it back around to the driveway. Willow and Bandit are practically exploding with full-body tail wags, joyful howls and yips, knowing their dinner is on their way. They sit politely at their door, and I go in with their food in hand. While they eat, I gather up armfuls of fresh straw and stuff it into their houses, then grab the hose to refill their water bucket for the night. After they're done eating, we all settle down on a bench in the kennel (and I really mean, all three of us are on the bench) and I bury my hands in their thick ruff of fur, pet them and tell them how much I love them. When they jump off the bench to wrestle and play, that's my cue to tell them goodnight.

When I finally make it back inside and fling off my flip-flops, I'm usually greeted by one of my housecats - and spend the rest of the night watching TV or on the computer with a warm, purring pile of fur and claws on my lap.

Evenings like these are my absolute favorite. Come summer, they'll be even nicer, since there's a fire pit with aged wood just waiting to be used in the backyard.