Memorial Day Flood 2015

One never wants to be Weather Channel famous. The wall of river water - runoff from a huge & fast 10-inch deluge of a storm further upstream - hit our area (and others downstream) like the fist of G-d.

Witnessing the effects of the destruction will catch your breath in your lungs. Driving over the bridge south of town  (which was 30 feet above the water, and still not high enough), people slow down, and sometimes swerve, viewing the damage. One witness wrote an article in The Atlantic, called "Paradise Lost: What the Texas Floods Swept Away".

Spouse and I had recently toured a neighborhood that was settled on the banks of the river, idly considering a move to that gorgeous water. After all, our geese and ducks would enjoy it. What we do for our birds... Well, all those houses are gone now. They probably won't be rebuilt.

There's a huge effort to educate landowners, recommending they let nature start to heal itself, by leaving the downed trees and brush near the creek & river banks to act as nurseries for new trees and brush to grow (pdf - see second page).

The response of people to help was amazing: there were at least three different volunteer reception centers set up to handle the influx in the first few weeks. It's now six weeks post-flood. We're past the immediate emergency, and are now the midst of long-term efforts to help people clean up the damage, and make repairs where feasible. We're "down" to one volunteer reception center, but there's still folks coming in to help, and we are most grateful.

If you're interested in photos, check out this Google Search. Personally, I just didn't have the heart to take any photos, and was more than a little irked by all the out-of-town disaster p0rn oglers. My thanks to those locals, stout of spirit, who documented the damage in photos and arial/video shots.

Us? Our place is fine, we're up on a hillside, a fair bit away from the river. Those who were on the river proper, even if up on a hillside - that's another story. One of our friends said "I will never again complain about all the stair-steps we have to take to get down to the river" - they were on a cliff, over 40 feet above, and lucky. The only inconvenience for our little neighborhood was the seasonal creek-crossing flow-pipe got clogged with debris, and water was running over the road. I had originally thought it was silted up, but one of the neighbors driving through the low water observed it was mostly debris. He hopped into the creek and started clearing. As I drove by and saw him waist-deep in the water, I couldn't help but hop in to help. Got it done, and learned a great deal from him about the history of our community and the little road we're on.

To end this post on a lighter note, here's a pic of Gerdy at the vet, getting ready for laser treatment on his feet. One of the vet techs put the goggles on his eyes as a joke. The other snapped the photo. The rest is giggle history.

Twenty Bales in a 19-Bale Truck

Alternate title: "Don't ever let a country boy tell you how much your truck bed will hold." - Spouse

We've done things like this before - see "Moving Via the Nail-biter Express" - and it was well past time to do it again. I found a good deal on the season's first fresh straw bales* on Craigslist, and asked Spouse to help me to pick up a truck-bed's worth. I was thinking ten, maybe twelve bales max. We got to the farm site, the guys started loading, and then there was a brief confab between Spouse and Farmer about estimated safe load. "If you stack them like this, you should be able to fit a few more...". Well, we know how that goes. Twenty bales of straw (and cash paid out) later, the Farmer quickly skeedaddled, and we were left with a load that wobbled back & forth like a Dr. Seuss sketch as we hit bumps and turned corners. The bungee netting I had brought wasn't strong enough to keep everything firmly in place, so we hit the closest hardware store we could find for more tie-down straps. And a bathroom break. We almost sh*t ourselves driving the few miles there. 

Load (relatively) more securely in place, next decision was how to safely get back home before dark. Choose the faster toll road? 80-miles-an-hour may cause problems. Choose the slower freeways? More turns, heavier traffic, but the lesser speed limits might be safer. Spouse chose the latter, and white-knuckled it all the way home. Other farmers on the road were looking at our load like we were crazy. And crazier still: we kept driving, going past our home and into town to get pizzas. Neither of us were gonna be in the mood to cook after all this. 

We got home just before dusk. "So," says Spouse, "which would you prefer to do in the dark? Take care of animal chores or stack straw bales?" Decision: animals first. Then we set up two wood pallets for stacking. [Not a good idea to stack hay or straw directly on the ground here, as ants will quickly make the bales their new home.] Stacked nine bales (3x3x3) on one pallet, eight (3x3x2) on another, and the remaining three stacked on a couple of cement blocks. Done. Whew. 

Moral of the story: Why do ridiculous things like this yourself when you can do it vicariously through our blog? On the other hand, the good news is we've enough straw for our raised vegetable beds and bedding for the ducks for probably the entire year. Sweet!

* What's the difference between hay and straw? Hay is made from dried grasses and greens (like alfalfa), and is meant for livestock consumption. Straw, on the other hand, are the castoff stalks from harvested cereal grains like oats, wheat and rice, and are not meant for consumption. Straw is used for animal bedding, a lightweight mulch for veggie beds, and sometimes even structures are made from straw bales. In a garden setting, the difference between laying down hay versus straw is kind of like laying down sheets of paper versus small bamboo stalks. If it gets wet, the "paper" (hay) will mat down, whereas the "bamboo stalks" (straw) will shed more of the water and not mat. Both will decompose eventually. Straw is less expensive as well, about one-third the price of hay.  

No Goose Eggs Yet?

There's been no breeding dominance fights between our ganders, Billy-Bob and Gerdy. No canoodling in the Pool o' Woo. No squabbling (aka 'shrieking') under our bedroom window for a nesting spot under the big, bushy rosemary - prime egg-laying real estate, if you're to believe the geese. The relative silence... scary.**

Last year the chaos started at Winter Solstice, and here we are near the 1st of February and no eggs in sight. Last year, the egg-laying season also lasted close to six months, instead of the usual four. I'm not sure what this egg-laying season will bring. I'm hoping for a short but fruitful season this time. Spouse was starting to peruse roast goose recipes towards the end of last season.
-------

In other goose news: reading the current McMurray hatchery catalog, I ran across the following blurb on page 52:

"Geese can be expected to breed past 30 years of age and a 40 year old is not uncommon. 101 years of age is the record."

Holeee crap. Billy-Bob/Bobble-Goose/Bobble-the-Hut, the hunchbacked goose of nine lives, may outlive us all! I began scrambling in my brain, thinking of how to make arrangements for our squeezles after our deaths. Since then, I've read from other breeders that 15-20 years is the usual lifespan of a domestic goose... whew! Still, may have to reconsider the thought of getting some Weeder/Cotton Patch geese.  I think our current flock will keep us on our toes long enough.

** ADDENDUM: Spouse just found out that the geese, who have been hanging out under the (new to us) truck in the mornings, have been chewing on the brake lines. They may be waiting to hatch their young until after they kill us.

[first pic: goose napping on the porch, giving me the hairy eyeball as I snapped her photo through the window. 
second pic: Billy-Bob, the nine-lives goose.
third pic: proof...]

The New Era

Now that the apocalyptic fantasies for 12/21 have passed with nary a whisper, let us get to work on the serious issues that face us, instead of hoping for some event to destroy or re-create our world anew, allowing us to avoid responsibility.

My wishes for the New Era:

• Humane treatment, healthy living spaces and nutritious food for all animals, especially those we raise for our consumption or companionship. 
• Healthy means of raising crops that give back to the soil & community as much as the end product fills our bellies. May that food be nutritious and safe as well, and enough for all.
• Healthy planet - we clean up our messes, and stop making new ones. 
• Healthy relationships - learn to listen twice as much as we speak, and remember respect goes both ways. 

In short, let the New Era bring health for all beings, all interactions, and for the planet itself.

---

Stepping off my soapbox for now... here's things I've shared or found in other venues:

Beautiful poem by Morpheus Ravenna Faith in the Incandescent Sun - "Solstice Night".

via Twitter: Gorgeous! '@MotherEarthNews: A stunningly beautiful corn variety..."Carl's Glass Gem" goo.gl/WioYZ' a rare Cherokee corn

Speaking of food: I'm not a huge fan of lentils, but this lentil stew recipe is amazing. I substituted the root veggies called for in the recipe with what I had on hand, and also substituted sausage for the bacon (again, what I had on hand). I could see this being made as a vegetarian dish as well. The extra olive oil & balsamic vinegar added at the end makes the dish outstanding.

Sleeping all tucked into their backs, the geese look like becalmed ships in a harbor:

via Twitter: Just watched Lucky, rooster #1, chase off Baron, rooster #2 from romancing one of the hens. Now THAT is "c*ck blocking".

And speaking of Lucky, think he's trying to find something in his back pocket in this pic.

May the season, and whatever holidays you might celebrate, bring you happiness, peace & well-being.

stupendously huge skillet breakfast & a haircut: two bits!

pic: the stupendously huge skillet breakfast.

Fell asleep around 1:00AM, woke to the alarm at 3:00AM. Took Spouse to the airport so he could see his folks for a few days (we're down to one car at the moment). Stopped at Major Chain Diner after drop-off - was inexplicably ravenous at 4:30AM. Forgot how these diners serve stupendously huge entrees. The skillet breakfast was filling, and more than two-thirds was still on the plate when I finished. Boxed it up for the chickens.

Once home, briefly napped until dawn chores called. Gave the chickens the still-warm skillet breakfast (chopped up into smaller bits). The chickens couldn't finish the skillet breakfast either. The dogs selflessly worked cleanup detail.

Having had real caffeinated coffee with the stupendously huge breakfast ensured that a goodly nap would be elusive for the rest of the day. Decided to chance going into the city to get *cue dramatic music*: a haircut. Getting a haircut has become a Very Big Deal, full of Angstyness and Gnashing of Teeth. My local stylist left the area almost two years ago (d@mmit!), and every stylist since then has either given me a bubblehead cut or an 80's Rick Springfield 'do (not being as cute as '80's Rick Springfield, I can't carry that look). Summertime is no problem: give me a #6 guard on an electric hair trimmer and a pair of thinning shears, and I can wrangle a basic short style. It's the Fall and Winter where I run into trouble, letting the hair grow out for warmth. So I pulled up my Big Girl Britches, dusted off the credit card, and went back to Ritzy (Yet Still A Chain) Salon. It'd been what - over three years since I last went there? Since I last had a salaried IT job, anyways. Painfully expensive, but for reason - they give great cuts. They're now giving free trims between cuts, probably due to the economy but still, thank goodness - it makes their prices a bit easier to swallow. I've now a growing-it-out, grownup modern 'do that is presentable enough for upcoming client-facing work.

pic: Moe the Duck. She probably
designed the flag.

Home again home again, jiggity-jog, and look at the time: need to muck out the 4'x6' duck pond. [Funny, it used to be "the goose pond", then it became "the goose & duck pond", now it's "the duck pond". The ducks have definitively taken over. They have a flag.] The ducks vacate the duck pond by late afternoon for the pools on the other side of the house - they love their routine. Can almost set your watch by it, if your watch is a sundial. Anyhow, presented my new hairdo to the chickens, geese, ducks & dogs. They had no comment. I don't think the birds looked past my knees, to be honest. The dogs were probably hoping for more stupendously huge breakfast goodies. My, how one's ego gets checked on the farm! Clad my glamorous self in work clothes and rubber boots, and got to mucking.

I get the hint

 - @dasparky Cleaning out the coop, a #hen let me know in no uncertain terms that a quiet nestbox was needed. Taking break while she lays her egg. 

The Barred Plymouth Rocks are bossy like that.

Cleaned out the duck & goose pond, too. More work on the pond is waiting, but am on an enforced break as the ducks are busy doing their own cleaning:

The geese, not wanting to be left out, have decided to clean themselves en masse as well. In every water container they can find.

Just too danged cute.

One of those days where one can't rush the river.

Too Danged Hot: New Chicks & Link Edition

It's been too danged hot. The animals fur & feather colors have all been bleaching out due to the sun. Black has bleached to brown, brown to tan, tan to blonde, and blonde to white. If Maggie or the white chickens aren't careful, they'll just fade into "clear"...

The recent experiment with ordering fertile Penedesenca eggs (with Welsummer egg bonus) was a bit of a wash. It may simply have been too hot: the broody hens would nest hop, and then forget their original clutch. Eventually, two eggs DID hatch: both Welsummers. Molly the Jersey Giant hatched one, and Cinnamon the Cubalaya hatched one. I had to transfer Cinnamon's chick to Molly, as Cinnamon wasn't "getting" that the new chick was hers to care for. She kept pecking the heck out of it, and the chick was starting to limp. Molly accepted the new chick, and she's being an excellent mother to both (pic on right). Cinnamon continued to be broody for almost two weeks after the hatching.

In the meantime, just so you know the blog is still alive, here's some link love until we all recover from the heat:

Make your own nose pore strips: youtube video. I haven't used pore strips in years, but this looks super easy to make. Might have to try it again!

A frugal dinner meal plan from Green, Blue, Brown. Thinking about trying this as well. Makes fantastic use of a whole chicken and rotating ingredients.

A quick guide on how to make herbal tinctures with both fresh and dry plant matter. I've the beginnings of a medicinal herb garden, and will definitely use this technique. Never been one much for herbal teas - just give me a few drops of tincture, thank you very much.

A tool to blow out eggs, so you can use the intact empty eggshells for crafts.  The tool also lets you blow out the egg with only one hole, so there's more continuous shell to paint. I've done everything from using a bicycle pump to lung power, and let me tell you, none have worked all that great. Goose eggs are big, strong, and great for crafts, sometimes going for $2.00 an egg. Nice way to re-purpose shells for those eggs that are past their freshness prime.

The Morning Lie... err, Incentive

pic: the morning greeting during
mating season. 
Usually a hiss or a series of fast, 
ear-splitting high-pitched 
squawks. Lovely!

BZZZT!-BZZZT!-BZZZT!-BZZZT!-BZZZT!

[slap alarm clock]

*grooooooan*

[repeat if necessary, up to 2x]

The usual dawn sounds - outside of the Lucky the Roo crowing the quarter-hours, that is.

I tell myself to get up, that all I have to do is the bare minimum of chores then I can come back inside for a nap. I cling to this seductive promise every time - bare feet on concrete floors, pulling on clothes in warm & muggy or chilly weather - holding it close to my heart. I've never been a morning person. It has taken a lot of work to get my backside into bed before 11:00AM at night - my old tech, night-owl proclivities are tenacious. And though lately my eyes may open before dawn (the joys of getting older), it doesn't mean I'm ready to get out of bed yet.

And I could come back and take that nap, if I wanted to, sure thing. By the time I get into the routine of chores, however - pump dirty pool water to fruit trees, refill pools, watering bowls, feed for the birds, the dogs - I've come awake enough that my stomach rumbles for breakfast and coffee. There's no sleeping once that starts. And in a way, I'm glad: if it's nice outside, I'll get that cup of coffee, sit on the porch, and watch the animals do their morning routines. If the dogs aren't mugging me for attention at that point, some of the chickens might even come and perch on my lap. Who would want to nap throught that?

Imperfect Farmers and Misfit Toys

We are imperfect farmers. We fail to regard all of our livestock as such. Maybe it’s because both of us adore underdogs so much. The weakest of our flock get the most care from us. There is Red, the "short bus" Ameraucana chicken. She is not very smart but very tame and therefore the first one to get picked up and loved on. Anyone harasses poor little Red then they go in the stock pot. There is Billy Bob – the scoliosis goose - who was a packing peanut in the shipment of female geese. He came out of the box with a cut on his head and a chip on his shoulder. He will come after D.A. to prove he is the head gander (at least when Godzilla, the real head gander, can’t be bothered) and she just grins at him and says how cute that is.

Then there is Miss Cecily, the goose with a slow heart beat, indeterminate gender (we got x-rays to prove it), and arthritis. There is no such thing as a free puppy and the same goes for a $12 goose. Her arthritis was preventing her from keeping up with the rest of the flock. As such, she became the goose who got left behind and therefore became the goose we had to pick up and hand deliver to the non-stop goose party. At first she would try and run but the arthritis made that hard, so then she'd just sit and wait for us to pick her up. Last Fall she developed an illness whose effects included weight loss and a inflexibility that prevented her from sleeping normally or preening herself. She is definitely part of the underdog clan and now has the healthcare plan that the rest of us can’t get through Congress.

We tried many remedies and several vets. It finally came to the point where we decided to put her down and D.A. took her to our primary vet for the last trip. The vet in question knows us and we have even rubbed shoulders socially (it is a small town) so he asked for a one-day reprieve for Cecily while he called a newly acquainted university specialist. The result? Our $12 goose is on a strong free-radical scavenging drug* and getting fed extra calories & supplements through a tube 3 times a day. Now you understand the picture. Cecily is in our version of the semi-private hospital room with the requisite TV privileges and noisy neighbors (us).

We are running the island of misfit toys but for geese, chickens, and peahens and, before you ask, we have no vacancies. That is the official answer but even that answer is imperfect just like us.

*DMSO - used by humans, horses and dogs but Cecily is the first goose test case.

[pic: Miss Cecily watching the History Channel.]

R.I.P. Specklebutt

Spouse found Specklebutt dead in a small oak and cedar grove behind the house. Spouse believes she was a victim of a hawk attack that got interrupted, and looks like it was a (thankfully) quick kill. The dogs, geese and roosters are usually good about warning and scaring off predators, but sometimes a chicken will wander off on her own, out of sight of the safety of the group. It looks like Speckle did just that. Spouse and I have accepted the risk of an occasional predator kill in exchange for the knowing that the chickens - and their eggs - will be much healthier for the freedom to roam and forage where they will. 

I'd like to think Speckle had a good life here. Greens, table scraps and organic scratch in the morning, and free-ranging throughout the property during the day. Organic laying feed available whenever she felt like eating. Sleeping high in the cedar boughs at night. She even got to lay and raise her own offspring. Not many laying hens get the opportunity to any or all of these, though it is my wish that all may get to do so, soon.

Her remains have been buried under the big oak tree, where all our other beloved feathered critters lay.  Rest in peace, Specklebutt.

[Pic: Herself, with Specklebutt Junior, aka "Peeper" the beta roo.]

A Day Off

I am in the midst of a "day off", courtesy of dear Spouse who is doing all the chores and errands today (bless you!). While I give myself a mani-pedi and enjoy the sunshine break between rains, here's the latest:

Last weekend's hole-digging with the rented backhoe/loader was an unqualified success. We'll rent that thing again for sure. Hole was dug for the new goose pool, water runoff swales on the side of the hill were enlarged, and we've found actual soil on different parts of the property! I didn't get a chance to run the backhoe this time - was too busy getting other things done in tandem with the hole digging - but will for sure next time.

Speaking of large machinery: learned how to drive a forklift at work. The turning is done by the back wheels, so making turns often felt like the lift was beginning to fishtail. Can't wait to drive it again, woo-hoo!

Lyn the permaculturist came by and took a look at the property. Will call to set up a time to discuss what kind of ideas she came up with (and bring her a few dozen eggs, too).

The Fall garden was installed in one fell swoop Thursday night. Broccoli, spinach, cabbage, green beans, mustard greens, collards, tomatoes, basils, and two beds of lettuces. Whew! We used up every single one of the raised beds.

Alrighty, nap time!

[pic: Spouse with the fresh-from-the-groomer dogs. Look long & hard, as that sort of cleanliness doesn't last long.]

p.s. Would you believe the nap lasted four hours? Holy smokes!

Pic: Procrastination No Longer Justified

Spoke too soon: I can no longer use the baby birds as an excuse not to clean the side porch. They "flew the coop"! Go birdies, go!

Pic: Justified Procrastination

Darn, guess I'll have to wait on cleaning up that side of the porch. Can't scare off the momma of these baby birds, you know...

[clicky to see larger image]

A Busy Couple of Days

I'm way behind in reading friend's blogs and twitter conversations, and my personal hygiene ain't too great either (ahem), but a boatload of stuff has been accomplished around the property:

1. Hops, passionfruit, gojis, and additional herbs have been planted.
2. Peppermint, aloe, and bay laurel trees have been potted.
3. Front garden-bed rock "outline" has been re-established.
   
4. A third of the front-yard "pasture" has been reseeded - another third tomorrow.
5. Broody Goose has been booted from the laying kennel - she was getting way too skinny and unkempt - and the opening blocked. No worries, there's other kennels, just blocked her favorite.
6. Rigged the chicken coop so the other goose can't lay in it (and thus keeping the chickens out).
7. Cleaned up the property from the last wind storm.
8. And last, but not least: moved the week-old chicks from the starter kennel into bigger digs. Good word, we're gonna have to build a bigger coop just to house them in a few weeks!

death and life

The "family issues" that Spouse delicately referred to in the earlier post was a funeral for my grandmother. She'd been in a long, slow decline for almost a decade, but it's still hard to imagine that such a force of nature is no longer with us. May she be at peace.

Spouse was unable to go with me, as we still don't have a backup for critter care. But looky what he found - the Frau has been one busy girl! We hadn't expected eggs yet, but yeah, it's about the right time. Life continues onward.