Friday on the Miller Farm Archives - Page 34 of 35

11 01, 2013

Life and Mystery @ the Miller Farm

By judythemorgan|2013-01-11T07:03:05-06:00January 11th, 2013|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|4 Comments

There is a mystery on Miller Farm.

When I went to let the chickens out, there were two dead quail. One was in the cage – which is not completely unusual. However, there was one on the ground near the chicken feeder, which was the mystery.

How did it get out of the quail cage? Why did it die?

I’m pretty sure both quail were dead before I opened the cage so it was not the shock of seeing me in my daughter’s sock monkey footed pajamas (it was pajama day at the school where I teach) .

I guess what happens in the quail cage stays in the quail cage, and the mystery will remain a mysery.

There is justice on the Miller farm.

Three of the roosters have gotten big enough to go to freezer camp so they were put on death row (in a separate cage). The hens who were tormented by these roosters perched atop the cage with what would be the equivalent of a smug look on their faces. I consider that poetic justice.

There is also new life on Miller farm.

We have baby chicks and quail in the garage. They were due to hatch on December 21^st, but one quail made his appearance on December 19. We call him the very loud overachiever. The others appeared on schedule.

Now there is much noise in the garage, which drives the dachshunds crazy.

There is randomness on Miller Farm.

My daughter received a text last week asking if should would be able to hatch goose eggs. Being an adventurous Miller she said “sure.” So we are awaiting the arrival of a special thermometer and will then set the goose eggs.

I must confess I am a little nervous. The size of eggs being hatched at the Miller Farm is becoming increasingly larger.

Eggs left to right: quail, bantam, chicken, goose

I’m not sure I want to know what will be next – ostrich eggs?

The Miller Farm is always bustling with life. I’m not at all surprised Rachel agreed to hatch goose eggs. She loves all animals. She’s going to be a caring nurse one day. I can’t wait read the email when the geese start cracking their shells. Should be an interesting email. I’m betting the geese give the daschshunds a run for their money!

After reading CW Sara’s email and looking at the picture of the eggs she included, I thought about how a story idea begins a little kernel—an overheard conversation, a picture, a senior citizen or child’s face, a building—so many little things can trigger What if for the creative mind.

That tiny what if then progresses through research, writing, editing, and finally becomes a full-blown, hold-in-your-hand book.That’s a life cycle too.

The life cycle of a novel. And writers never know what size the next kernel will be.

YOUR TURN: How are things in your world? Any mystery or poetic justice? Any surprises? Any idea kernels to share?

4 01, 2013

Flying the Coop Bee Emergency – Miller Farm Day

By judythemorgan|2013-01-04T06:48:27-06:00January 4th, 2013|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday, Uncategorized|3 Comments

On a recent Monday (my day to go grocery shopping and do laundry among other things), I added poinsettia delivery to my errand list.

Several people at various schools bought the holiday plant from our kids for a band fundraiser and they came in on Friday. Our living room was quite festive with sixteen poinsettia plants in it.
poinsettia-group

I took six to an elementary school before grocery shopping.

I can now add floral delivery person to the list of jobs I do not want to do full time.

When I returned home on that afternoon, I noticed bees gathered on the edge of a pot on the back porch. It was strange so I took a picture with my phone and sent it to Beekeeper Brian asking what he thought. He had no idea.

I loaded up more poinsettias and headed to the middle school. On my route, I passed Beekeeper Brian, headed for the house. My first thought was “he’s going to check on his bees.”

But when I got home after my poinsettia deliveries, he was in full beekeeper garb, standing at the stove with a glass measuring bowl full of a lemony smelling liquid. He then said the words which always signal the beginning of an adventure – “I need your help.”

He needed to know how hot the liquid was. I went into bread making mode and thought about how hot water for softening yeast needed to be. After a quick finger test, I assured him the water was not more than 100 degrees.

He then carried the liquid outside. As it turns out, the bees were making a small swarm which means they were preparing to “fly the coop.”

Oops, that would be the chickens who do that. I’m not sure what it’s called when bees leave.

Beekeeper Brian then put the queen from the swarm in a nuc (small hive box) and put feed (the lemony smelling liquid) on top. He’s watching to see if the worker bees go into the nuke with the queen.

bee bucket

Meanwhile, he’s thinking of alternate plans to entice the bees to hang around. This could mean another hive and more honey!

There is never a dull moment around here.

Life on the farm is certainly full of adventure with all the elements of storytelling: Goal, Motivation , and Conflict.

YOUR TURN: Any dull moments in your world?

28 12, 2012

Ever had one of THESE days? Miller Farm Friday

By judythemorgan|2012-12-28T08:29:16-06:00December 28th, 2012|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|4 Comments

Chicken Wrangler Sara’s day:

This morning I got up at 5:15, made coffee, fixed breakfast and made sandwiches even though it is Saturday. The kids have All-Region Band auditions and I wanted to make sure they didn’t starve.

After they left, I went back to bed. It was glorious. I didn’t open my eyes again until 7:45. I should have kept them closed, but chicken wrangler duties called.

I got up and let the chickens out. That was ok.

I also let the quail out. That was not ok.

Lately, I have had difficulty closing the long quail cage securely, and we have had to retrieve quail on several occasions. Rachel even made me a sign that says, “Close the door.” Today, I closed the door on the long cage. However, I accidentally left the hutch cage open.

Strike one.

I knew something was amiss as I heard Bella barking frantically. She really wanted the quail to come over and play. I ran back outside and closed the hutch door on the two remaining quail. I decided to finish filling water jugs and deal with the loose quail later.

I washed the very dirty waterer from the quail cage in the coop, refilled the waterer, and reached to put it back. (In case you don’t remember, this cage is high up in the coop and somewhat difficult to reach.) The waterer slipped and the lid came open, spilling water all over me.

I was not happy. This was strike two.

On the bright side, even though it is December, this is Texas so it is 80 degrees outside. There was no danger of the water making me cold.

After refilling the waterer, I headed back to the house, silently praying that fixing coffee and breakfast for Beekeeper Brian and I would be easier.

One more strike and I’m out.

About the same time Chicken Wrangler Sara’s email arrived, I received an email from daughter #2 in Colorado. Her day started with a challenge too.

Woke up to about ten wild turkeys out in the front yard and street. I went out to talk to them and saw a deer.

SF turkeys

single deer

He had short antlers. I turned my back on him to take a picture of the front of the house and then turned back around he was coming after me!

I walked, rather briskly, back to the driveway and out of the corner of my eye, I see more deer staring at me.

deer next door for 12-28 blog

I was triangulated by turkey and deer!!

I started walking more briskly to the safety of the fenced front yard. Whereupon I saw deer tracks inside the fence, which led me to believe that the only truly safe place was inside the house until Patrick woke up to protect me!!

Nature. It’s not for sissies.

YOUR TURN: Wanta share how your day’s going?

22 12, 2012

Chicken chest bump challenges – Miller Farm Friday

By judythemorgan|2012-12-22T06:50:29-06:00December 22nd, 2012|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|2 Comments

Okay, I know today is Saturday, but I didn’t remember yesterday was Friday! I know CW Sara has loyal Miller Farm Friday readers and that’s why I’m posting her email blog. I do apologize and promise to pay more attention to the calendar and not just the clock in the future.

Back in the Blog

The chickens must have heard the rumors that they were being replaced in the blog by clothing/craft stories so they provided the following material this morning:

I noticed while observing our young roosters that male and female of every species share characteristics.

Our roosters have reached what I guess is the equivalent of adolescence and have started fighting. I used to believe that people trained roosters for cockfights, but I promise ours fight on their own. YesterdayI was convinced that two were fighting to the death.

Even Whitey – one of the hens – tried to break it up (just like a momma).

Finally, Samson, the chief rooster, based on seniority not on size as he is a bantam, “explained” to them how things were going to be. They stopped fighting.

Well this morning, I let the chickens out and, as usual, the roosters started their morning boxing bouts. They puff their chests out and bump up against each other kind of like men do at sporting events. Other times they fly towards each other and bump chests as well.

Photo Credit: Andy Lyons/Getty Images Sport/Getty Images

As I was feeding and watering the birds, I discovered one young rooster was on the wrong side of the fence. I guess he had been “bumped” over.

Fortunately, the only dog outside at the time was Marv, our old mixed breed, and he was more interested in the stale hamburger buns in the shed than in the rooster in the yard.

Poor rooster was very confused so I was able to grab him easily.

He did protest as I tossed him back into the chicken yard. I have the scratch on my arm and the mud on my shirt to show for it.

I asked my son Matthew if I needed to change shirts before I took him to school. (Remember he warned me to stay in the car when I was wearing my special sweatshirt.) He decided that rooster footprints were not as tacky as a sweatshirt with handprints.

However, since I was taking breakfast to Beekeeper Brian at his school, I decided to put on a clean shirt. Embarrassing kids is one thing but husbands are off limits.

YOUR TURN: What do you think are sports bumps and cockfights alike?

14 12, 2012

Chickens and Holiday sweaters: Miller Farm Blog

By judythemorgan|2012-12-14T07:41:50-06:00December 14th, 2012|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|2 Comments

We interrupt our regularly scheduled Chicken Wrangler emails for today’s seasonal email titled

Don We Now our Gay Apparel

Exactly nineteen years ago, my parents gave me a Christmas sweater. It was something they knew I would never buy for myself but would love. They were absolutely right. I wore that sweater for many years. In fact, I wore it in our Christmas picture for our daughters first Christmas.

Christmas 1993

This very same daughter, nineteen years later, has borrowed this sweater not once but twice to enter in “tacky Christmas sweater” contests.

I would be offended except for two years running, it has won.This year, she wasn’t even the one wearing it.

I think I deserve at least some kind of prize for having held on to that sweater long enough for college kids to think it is tacky.

Today was the first really cold day of the season so I pulled out my Christmas sweatshirt. It is even older than my tacky sweater.

I got it from my music class after my first Christmas program (which was several years before our first daughter was born). It has the name of the Christmas musical – “The Town Hall Christmas Tree” – on the front and all the kids’ handprints in red and green on the back and down the arms.

front of sweatshit

Sara's sweatshirt

This morning my son looked at me as I was putting on my shoes over my Christmas socks so I could take him to school and said, “I’m glad you are not getting out of the car.”

I almost got out and gave him a big hug just for spite.

Later I was at the doctor for my annual check -up and as I stepped on the scale (a frightful thing in and of itself) the nurse said, “What a cute sweatshirt. Are those the handprints of your grandkids.”

I texted my son later and said “Maybe I should have stayed in the car.”

I laughed and laughed when I received this email from Chicken Wrangler Sara. What fun to remember all the times like she described when she or her teenaged siblings asked me to wait in the car or wouldn’t let me out of the house because what I had on didn’t suit them. We call her sister Stef the fashion police even today!

I love Christmas and have multiple Christmas sweaters. Depending on the occasion, I select which one to wear. And, like an actress take on different persona depending on which I’m wearing.

For fun, casual parties and gatherings, especially those with sweater contests I wear this one. btw, it was purchased at the same time we bought CW Sara’s in 1993.

For more glitzy affairs when I need bling and swing, I choose this one:

And for conservative affairs, my Ralph Lauren angora. With a long skirt or jeans with high boots, I’m styling.

But the most fun comes from wearing the homemade variety. My girls will probably kill me for this one, but I loved the year I made us all red sweatsuits with appliqued Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer. The suits are long gone, but oh what fun Christmas memories!

christmassweatshirts

CW Sara has carried on the tradition of creating crafty Christmas garments.

We have wreaths with children’s finger and handprints, wall hangings of hand prints/foot prints, and one years she managed to collect ALL eleven grandkids for a handprint Christmas table cloth. Unfortunately, due to the tipping point decision, that tablecloth is packed in storage awaiting our move to Colorado so I can’t show a picture.

YOUR TURN: Do you have any special handcrafted Christmas items?

7 12, 2012

Does quail chasing=chicken wrangling? – Miller Farm Friday

By judythemorgan|2012-12-07T07:26:06-06:00December 7th, 2012|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|0 Comments

Bella was staring intently into the small chicken yard this afternoon. I figured she was just willing one of the smaller chickens to come out and “play.”

When I went out to check eggs, I saw what had her mesmerized.

A quail was eating from the chicken feeder. I thought to myself “That looks like one of our quail. What’s he doing in the chickenyard?”

So I turned to look at the long quail cage and discovered I had left the door open when I fed the quail earlier.

Now if I were in charge, I would fire me. Unfortunately, I’m not sure I could find a replacement.

After a quick inventory of the quail still in the cage, I realized the one eating from the feeder was not the only escapee. There were five or six others missing.

I debated briefly about simply closing the cage and letting those outside retain their freedom.

Then I recalled we’d paid money for these quail so I probably should attempt to recapture our investment.

I set the egg basket down and began creeping up on the quail roaming the chickenyard. They weren’t that hard to catch as they did not have much flying experience.

I did learn that I can only hold one at a time as they are wriggly little critters.

I managed to catch all I could find on our side of the fence. One had escaped into the neighbor’s yard, but I chose not to go retrieve it.

Remember, the neighbors already think we are strange after seeing me in my bee bonnet. In their backyard, in my bee bonnet, rounding up quail might prove grounds for a call for the patty wagon!

I suppose “quail wrangler” can now be added to my “chicken wrangler” title making me Sara Chicken/Quail Wrangler Extraordinaire.

I wonder. CW Sara may have chased down some quail, but is that the same as daily wrangling chickens? Enough to earn her a new title?

What do you think?

30 11, 2012

Missing Books and Memories: Miller Farm Friday

By judythemorgan|2012-11-30T07:55:19-06:00November 30th, 2012|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|4 Comments

Before the school year started, I alphabetized my books in my classroom to make it easier to find what I wanted for each class.

Imagine my consternation when I went to pull “Six Little Ducks” and it was not nestled right next to “Silent Night” in the “s” section. I thought perhaps I had loaned it out and would need to track it down.

I chose another duck book, “Little White Duck,” and went on with my teaching.

Well yesterday, I wanted to read “Ten Little Indians.” It was time to start my Thanksgiving songs. It was also missing!

My first thought was “Now I’ve lost six little ducks and ten little Indians and the craziness of the holiday season has not even began. Not a good sign!”

I had to walk away from the bookshelf to collect myself.

Upon returning and carefully searching through the entire alphabet of books, I discovered that “Ten Little Indians” was actually titled “One Little Indian.”

Silly me.

Very relieved, I looked once again for “Six Little Ducks.”

I discovered the title of that book is actually “Five Little Ducks,” and it was right shelved right where it was supposed to be – after “Fire Truck.”

I slept much better last night knowing that every book and everything was in their proper spot.

Including the black hen in the chicken yard who apparently still has flashbacks to the possum episode and tries to sleep on top of the quail cage.

Have a great weekend.

Before anyone gets excited over CW (Chicken Wrangler) Sara using Ten Little Indians to kickstart Thanksgiving, I have to tell you that she grew up where Mama (me) made sure the “real” Thanksgiving celebration wasn’t forgotten.

(Image from: www.azgop.org)

The first Thanksgiving feast was to thank the Indians for their contribution to the Pilgrims’ survival.

To reinforce the concept, I wore an Indian squaw dress custom-made for me by an Apache seamstress on the White River Arizona Reservation.

I’m sure CW Sara told her young students all about a Mama’s custom.

I do wonder if she tells her classes about how I embellished the Five Little Duck story by having the Mama Duck (NOT the Daddy Duck) call the duckies back in the song’s punch line.

I’d tell her and her siblings that disobedience to Mama Duck meant the five little duckies might not have a happy ending.

On second thought, CW Sara probably doesn’t tell that story. That would be like the black hen’s flashbacks of the possum episode—recalling unpleasant memories.

YOUR TURN TO SHARE:

Any Thanksgiving traditions?

Or unpleasant possum memories?

23 11, 2012

Raiding Possums, Scary Times at the Miller Farm

By judythemorgan|2012-11-23T08:26:47-06:00November 23rd, 2012|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|0 Comments

I have a confession to make.

Sometimes, especially if it is raining, we do not close the door to the chicken coop at night. The chickens don’t know the difference and some nights we are just too tired to walk out there.

This has all changed after last weekend.

I was getting ready to get into the shower on Sunday morning when I heard a lot of racket coming from the chicken yard. I’m accustomed to hearing the roosters and can, in fact, distinguish which rooster makes each “cock a doodle doo.”

This was, however, a hen making the racket. She sounded very distressed so I knew something was amiss. I grabbed a flashlight, put on my muck shoes and headed out to the chicken yard.

As soon as I left the garage, I knew there was trouble.

A large number of the birds lined the fence looking very scared (at least I’m guessing it was a scared look on their faces.)

Something had gotten into their coop and they were trying to get away.

Had it not been 5:45 a.m. and my brain still foggy, I might have thought more about rushing into an unknown situation. All I could think about, though, was my poor chickens and how I had left them vulnerable by not closing the coop.

As I approached, I could see the announcer hen still squawking at something in the corner.

A possum and it was eating a chicken!

Not wishing to add “possum wrangler” to my titles or face-off with a possum and his breakfast, I headed back to the house for my husband. He reached for a hand gun, but I reminded him it would be illegal to fire in the city limits. He grabbed a BB gun instead, and we went back outside.

Fortunately, possums do not have a “flight” instinct and in fact will freeze when they are frightened (think deer in the headlight look). So when we got to the coop, Raider Possum was still there.

Beekeeper Brian was able to put enough BBs into him that he will not be eating any more of our chickens nor will he be able to tell his friends where to get a free meal.

As we retold our morning adventure, we did get asked several times if we were making a meal out of the possum. (The answer is a resounding “no.”)

With the danger eliminated, we coaxed the chickens back into the coop. They may have bird brains but they remembered there was something scary in that coop and balked when we tried to herd them back inside the chicken yard.

We picked each one up and placed it gently into the coop. As we lifted them, they cried out what sounded like “Ouch, Ouch.” We got as many as we could back into the coop and shut the door until the sun came up.

The chickens seem to have no recollection of the events and have gone back into the coop every night since. All except for one black hen who slept on top of the quail cage for several nights.

Now, every night, we shut the door to the coop and tell the chickens:

“Good night, sleep tight and don’t let the possums bite.”

I had to laugh over her caution to the chickens. You see, when she was little we often sent her off to bed with “Sleep tight and don’t let the bed-bugs bite.”

Strange saying, but evidently founded in the fact that bedbugs were once real threat and have recently made a comeback.

All I meant was for her to have a good night’s sleep, which worked for Chicken Wrangler Sara and her siblings. I hope it works for the Miller farm fowl.

It has been a rough week at the Miller Farm. Chickens facing raider possums. Thanksgiving Turkey’s roasting. The fowl must have felt like they were watching a horror movie.

YOUR TURN: How do you pick yourself up after a horror movie week or day?

16 11, 2012

Bedlam in the Chicken Yard-Miller Farm Friday

By judythemorgan|2012-11-16T08:22:36-06:00November 16th, 2012|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday, Uncategorized|1 Comment

I looked out the kitchen window last evening and saw a rooster about 5 feet off the ground on top of the quail cage in the middle of the chicken yard.

This would not be a problem if he could get back down to the ground on the right side of the fence (the one with the chickens, not the dogs). However, we have learned that chickens (and roosters) are not particularly coordinated.

I headed out to the chicken yard to make sure he was safe.

Later, we decided if the rooster could make it to the top of the quail cage must be time to clip wings. While this sounds horribly painful for the birds, it is actually more like clipping fingernails.

The hardest part is catching the birds.

Since the sun was setting, the chickens headed for the coop. They are creatures of habit and every evening they go to bed in the coop, and every night I shut the door to keep non-chickens out.

Since the birds were contained, Beekeeper Brian decided to go into the coop and clip wings. He started with the smaller game birds which made the most racket I ever heard.

I was afraid the neighbors would think we were killing them. Eventually all the wings were clipped and no chicken died, though from all the noise I’m sure the neighbors did wonder.

Wing clipping prevents the birds from flying over the fence where Bella (the dachshund) could “play” with them. At the same time, wing clipping also makes it very difficult for them to fly up to their roosts in the coop.

I believe at least one of the birds held a grudge against us.

When I went to collect eggs the next morning, she pecked at my hand. I’ve gotten used to that and it doesn’t really hurt – especially when compared with bee stings.

So I got the eggs and the chicken immediately went to the roost in front of the nest box and started squawking very loudly. I swear she was saying “Thief, Thief!!!!.”

If you spend enough time around chickens, you learn to speak their language.

That evening when I went to close up the coop, one of the birds sounded very raspy. I told Beekeeper Brian it was probably the one who had fussed at me. She’d squawked so loud she made herself hoarse.

Without missing a beat, Brian replied, “Well how is she supposed to lay eggs if she is a horse?”

21 09, 2012

Miller Farm Friday – CHICKEN NUGGETS & Hatching Children

By judythemorgan|2012-09-21T11:20:57-05:00September 21st, 2012|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday, Uncategorized|6 Comments

No recipes or no recommendation for the best fast food restaurant serving chicken nuggets.

Although if you’re ever in South Fork, Colorado, I do highly recommend the chicken strips at Rockaway Cafe & Steakhouse.

Rockaway is a small family owned business with a casual atmosphere. Reminiscent of eating in someone’s home. John handpicks the fresh chicken breasts and carefully breads with his secret recipe.

You’ll love ‘em. We do.

But back to the Miller Farm.

Today our resident chicken wrangler is sharing some observations and a follow-up on last week’s acrobatic chicken.

The follow-up first – Butterscotch, the acrobatic chicken, seems to have recovered nicely. I had intended to clean her hurt foot every morning but I have yet to be able to catch her. Since she is moving faster than I am, I would say she is doing pretty well.

Observations on the concept of pecking order…
We have introduced new chickens into our flock on several occasions. Usually we have a group of birds that have gotten large enough to move outside but are still somewhat smaller than our mature hens, putting them on the bottom of the pecking order.

One evening I noticed that there was some “discussion” about who got to roost on a particular perch. Little Grey Hen come running out of the coop then she ran back in.

I heard all kinds of noise and saw that a smaller black bird was trying to roost on the end where Little Grey Hen usually sleeps. She would have none of that and before I (or the smaller hen) knew it, the black hen was on the ground and Little Grey Hen was back on her perch.

My first thought was “They all rolled over and one fell out.” (from the song Ten in the Bed).

Thoughts on hatching…
We have an assortment of fowl (chickens and quail) in the brooder in the garage. They hatched over a period of two days.

The last chicken to hatch seemed to have its shell stuck to its back side. We left it alone for a while, knowing that the struggle to get it off was making the bird stronger.

At a certain point, however, we could stand it no longer, and I held the bird while Rachel carefully cut away the shell which was hanging on by a thread.

We added the chicken sans the large chunk of hanging shell to the brooder where its feathers were able to dry and the last tiny bits of the shell came off.

I thought about parenting – sometimes we have to help kids get completely out of their shell so they can begin their own life.

The baby quail in the brooder nearly drove me nuts. They started sleeping on their sides with their feet stretched out making them look dead.

I guess I opened the cage and woke them up enough times that they decided if they wanted to get any sleep at all, they’d better sleep on their feet like fowl are supposed to do.

I’m definitely getting more sleep as well.

MY TURN:
Sara, the Chicken Wrangler, observed that a chicken’s process of hatching is like watching our children growing up. We need to help them out of their shells before they can begin their own life. Seems to me, that’s what writers do for their protagonists. We help them out of their shell. The literary term is character arc.

YOUR TURN: Do you see your child or your main character’s growth as hatching out of a shell?