Miller Farm Friday Archives - Page 46 of 48

29 03, 2013

Substitute Chickens

By judythemorgan|2013-03-29T17:18:50-05:00March 29th, 2013|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|1 Comment

A guest blogger by Chicken Wrangler Sara

I spent one week in south Texas away from home, without my chickens.

After only a couple of days, I spent another week away from home.

This time heading north to Colorado to help my parents make a permanent move there. With snow still on the ground, I didn’t expect to see any chickens.

However, the wild turkeys paid a visit.

Turkeys aren’t the same as chickens, but they are fowl and, in a pinch, provided my chicken fix.

The mule deer looking for food also provided a delightful diversion. We threw bird seed to supplement the slim pickings on the frozen landscape. The turkeys didn’t seem to mind sharing.

But I think I’ve solved my problem of missing my chickens when I’m away from home.

At school this week, the younger classes celebrated Easter. Of course, no elementary school party is complete without decorated cupcakes. A top each cupcake was a different Easter trinket.

I chose one with a chicken ring.

Now I can have a chicken with me wherever I go. Fortunately, I don’t plan to go anywhere for a while.

Back to adventures on the Miller Farm next week.

22 03, 2013

Chickens, Chickens Everywhere!

By judythemorgan|2013-03-22T05:45:06-05:00March 22nd, 2013|Friday on the Miller Farm, Guest blogger, Miller Farm Friday|4 Comments

A Guest Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

I recently spent a week in South Texas with Go Mission leaving my beloved chickens in the capable hands of vet-in-training Rachel.

The first morning of the trip I was walking the fence line of the property where we were working and surprise–I ran across…chickens!

I guess my Chicken Wrangler reputation has spread further than I knew.

There were two pens, one with a hen and rooster and one with a hen and chicks.

I will say they were not as pretty as our chickens, but then I’m sure they never got the royal treatment we give our hens.

Each day after that, I made sure to check on the chickens – just like at home. The only thing was I could not feed them but I could talk to them.

Later in the week, I was walking through a neighborhood with a group of youth inviting children to our Bible Club. One man had chickens roaming around his yard.

I talked to him about them (in Spanish), but was unable to come up with a translation for “chicken wrangler.” I didn’t get pictures of these birds as they spent most of their time under the brush out of the sun.

Getting away from the day-to-day chores of life is refreshing, and I loved working with Habitat and Bible clubs.

But, I must say, I was very glad to be able to get my “chicken fix” while far from our birds. It kept me from missing my chickens so much.

15 03, 2013

Chicken Math

By judythemorgan|2013-03-15T06:34:16-05:00March 15th, 2013|Friday on the Miller Farm, Guest blogger, Miller Farm Friday|1 Comment

A Guest Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

Last week, Whitey – the hen who had the hurt leg and we nursed back to health – was once again walking funny.

We knew it couldn’t be a result of roosters jumping on her because the roosters were all at freezer camp. Chicken doctor Rachel diagnosed her as egg bound.

Egg bound means there was an egg that for some reason was stuck. The remedy was to put the hen in warm water for 30 minutes every two hours until the egg is laid.

We figured the best place for a warm water bath was an ice chest.

We let her soak in her “hot tub” for thirty minutes and then brought her inside to dry off.

When this didn’t seem to make much difference, Rachel discovered that Whitey did not have an egg, but a tumor, which would not come out regardless of how many times we let her soak.

I did wonder at one point as I watched her hang on to life, if there was a “chicken hospice” organization. I’m sure someone could start one, but not sure, if others would pay for their services.

The sad fact was our Whitney was destined to die. A very sad fact, but nonetheless a fact. We all shed a few tears when Whitey did die.

Rachel went to the feed store later that week and bought nine baby chicks.

Whitey was, indeed, a very special chicken if it took nine chicks to replace her.

We also have 24 eggs in the incubator due to hatch next week, but Rachel went to the feed store again and came home with two more chicks.

(She did ask me first. I figured what’s two more in our ever-growing flock.)

So now, we have potentially thirty-five new birds after losing one.

Rachel calls it Chicken Math.

I find it at least as confusing as regular math.

1 03, 2013

A Chicken Wrangler’s Mortal Enemy

By judythemorgan|2013-03-01T06:44:24-06:00March 1st, 2013|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|2 Comments

Another Guest Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

Watching the chickens through my kitchen window has become a hobby of mine. Actually watching anything through my kitchen window has always been interesting.

When we lived in Mexico City, my kitchen window looked out on a busy street. I could spend hours just watching the traffic. Now I spend hours watching the chickens and the bees – who are as busy as the traffic some days.

Last week, as I was watching out the window, a shadow passed over the yard.

I thought perhaps a plane was landing in our backyard. However, within seconds, a red tail hawk came into view, a new threat from the sky.

A magnificent creature soaring through the sky. But it preys on chickens and a chicken wrangler and chicken eater are mortal enemies forever.

I turned my gaze to the chicken yard where half the chickens were under the trees on the left of the yard and the other half were out of view on the right.

They may have birdbrains, but our chickens know a threat when they see one.

This hawk sighting confirmed our suspicions about the recent disappearance of a bantam chick. Most of the chickens are too heavy to carry off, but not the bantams.

The hawk flew away, and the chickens on the left quickly ran across the yard to join the chickens on the right. Once again, they were banding together against a common enemy – this time a bird of a different feather.

Freedom, one of our first roosters, once fought off a hawk, but alas, Freedom was very loud and so had to go live in the country. Now we only have small roosters who are no match for a hawk so all the birds must run for cover.

When I went to gather eggs this afternoon, all the chickens were either in the coop or under the trees. I heard a squealing like that of car brakes, and I knew the hawk was near.

I counted the chickens. None of the smaller bantam hens were missing.

It makes me glad I’m not a chicken.

15 02, 2013

Advantages to Raising Chickens

By judythemorgan|2013-02-15T06:45:30-06:00February 15th, 2013|Friday on the Miller Farm, Guest blogger, Miller Farm Friday, Uncategorized|2 Comments

A guest blog from Chicken Wrangler Sara

There are advantages to raising chickens. They get food and water and sometimes grass, and they are happy.

Humans, on the other hand, need many things.

Last Wednesday proved the last. It’s my usual my day to clean the bathrooms and mop the kitchen floor, but that didn’t happen for three reasons.

Beekeeper Brian called at 8:30 to ask if I could bring him his ID, which he had left on the dresser. Not a problem – I had something to drop off near his school anyway.
Then Rachel texted and asked if I could meet her at the band hall at 10:50 with her jacket. OK, I could still get some things done at the house between taking the ID and taking the jacket.
Then Matthew texted – “Can you go by Thorn (music store) and pick up some drum sticks?” By this time, I was a little frustrated so I told him I would have to see.

After a bit of thougt, I decided taking care of family was more important than a clean bathroom.

As I left the house to make the deliveries, a woman was putting a flyer on my mailbox for a maid service. Rather ironic, it seemed to me considering I really wanted to be at home cleaning house myself.

Instead, I was off delivering things to my humans…

Beekeeper Brian his ID,
Rachel her jacket,
and drumsticks to Matt.

This morning as I fed the chickens I thought about how simple it was to take care of them.

Chickens don’t need IDs.
Chickens don’t need jackets.
Chickens don’t need drumsticks – they already have them.

However, not one of those chickens said “thanks, sweetheart” or ‘Mom, you’re the greatest.”

I realized while there are advantages to raising chickens, they do not outweigh the advantages of raising a family.

8 02, 2013

Puddle jumping, bee stings, and dachshunds

By judythemorgan|2013-02-08T07:15:29-06:00February 8th, 2013|Friday on the Miller Farm, Guest blogger, Miller Farm Friday, Uncategorized|6 Comments

A guest blog from Chicken Wrangler Sara

Bella, dachshund chicken watcher extraordinaire, has keep life interesting around the urban farm for the past two weeks.

First, a bee stung her on the foot. This would not have been a big problem except that she somehow acquired Beekeeper Brian’s allergy to bees. Rachel took her to the vet where they gave her Benadryl and made sure there were no other symptoms.

Bella slept off the effects of her bee sting encounter in her favorite chair.

Then a few days later, I was at lunch with Beekeeper Brian when Rachel called asking me to meet her at the vet ASAP. Bella was shaking all over and drooling – symptoms that looked like a seizure.

Since Marv, our big dog, has suffered from seizures most of his life, Rachel is well acquainted with doggie seizures. I left immediately, but a road closure cause somewhat of a delayed.

In my directionally challenged world, another (read different) way is always longer and in the wrong direction. I only know one way to get places, and since the road I knew to go down was blocked, I had to find another way. And, of course, I had to stop for every red light along the way.

I desperately wanted to get to the vet’s office in case something happened to Bella. While Beekeeper Brian and I were in Colorado last summer, Rachel had to take our chocolate lab to the vet for the last time. I didn’t want her to be in that position again with Bella.

When I finally rushed into the office, Rachel and Bella were sitting in the front room waiting for me to pay.

Bella was fine. The vet determined she swallowed a bee (I added another verse to the song – I know a dumb dachshund who swallowed a bee).

With the Benadryl, Bella slept soundly in her favorite chair.

She now has her own bottle of Benadryl in the kitchen cabinet.

This week she has managed to avoid the bees, thankfully. She did run under our bed instead of into her kennel one night. We could not coax her out until the next morning. Never did figure out what that was all what.

Then yesterday I walked the dogs after it had rained all morning, Bella managed to find every puddle to walk through. Her puddle jumping reminded me of my small children days – the puddles as well as the frantic trips to the doctor.

I’m afraid while the children outgrew their frantic trips to the doctor and puddle jumping, Bella will never outgrow this stage. Fortunately, she is very cute and so we tolerate her idiosyncrasies.

Don’t you agree?

25 01, 2013

Goose eggs, adolescent roosters, and bullied hens – Miller Farm Friday

By judythemorgan|2013-01-25T07:00:00-06:00January 25th, 2013|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday, Uncategorized|3 Comments

Welcome our very special Friday Guest blogger, Chicken Wrangler Sara and another tale from the Miller Farm.

Adolescent roosters are some of the most horrid creatures on earth, which makes putting them on death row much less traumatic for me. However, their imminent demise does nothing for the poor hens they harass until they reach a size large enough to eat.

One poor hen, named Whitey, has been jumped on so many times I believe her right leg is broken. #2 Daughter Rachel and I found her trying to get through the fence and under the shed.

Enter Chicken Wrangler Sara wearing her chicken rescue cape.

Future nurse Rachel decided Whitney should spend time in the Miller Chicken Infirmary until her leg healed. She reinforced the sides of a wooden crate, gave Whitey a bath (yes, you read that correctly, she bathed a chicken), then put the clean hen in the crate in her bedroom.

Then Future Nurse Rachel went out of town leaving me in charge.

This is not the first fowl to be in the house. Remember, we had two rescued roosters who were much kinder than any roosters we have right now.

Eventually I moved Whitey to the garage where she spent the night.

In the morning, I set her out in the yard (while the dachshunds were inside) and cleaned her crate. Marv, our big, old lab mix, found this change in the routine very interesting.

Whitey ate some grass and hobbled around a bit. Before I left to volunteer at the food pantry, I returned her to her crate in the garage and secured the dachshunds inside the kitchen.

In the afternoon, Whitney spent more time outside in the yard although I’m suspicious that the roosters have spotted her. They lined the fence watching with great interest.

Fortunately, they cannot get over the fence so Whitey is safe.

I considered splinting her leg, but wasn’t sure how to go about it. I wasn’t keen on researching how to set chicken legs – cooking them maybe, but not setting them.

In fact, one of my piano students asked why we didn’t just eat Whitey. I explained that we don’t eat any of the chickens we have named.

Just can’t do it.

Not only do I have to keep an eye on Whitey, with Rachel gone, I must turn the goose eggs in the incubator three times a day. I forgot. When Beekeeper Brian got home from work, he turned them. Since they can’t tell time, he assured me they would be fine.

We’ve decided I may be Chicken Wrangler Extraordinaire, but I’m no Mother Goose.

Future Nurse Rachel and I have also started walking the four dogs. We each take two dachshunds and provide entertainment for anyone driving down the street along with exercise for the dogs and ourselves.

Since Rachel was not home this afternoon, I took all four dogs on my own. After fighting twisted leads and pulling dogs, I’ve decided I could probably drive a bobsled now.

Tomorrow Rachel returns. I will be so happy to have her assistance with dachshunds and goose eggs.

Sunday the roosters go to death row. Whitney will return to the hen yard and be safe.

By Monday, the Miller Chicken Infirmary will close and life will return to normal – whatever that is.

18 01, 2013

Fortunately – Unfortunately on the Miller Farm

By judythemorgan|2013-01-18T09:04:51-06:00January 18th, 2013|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|1 Comment

My father used to tell the story of a man flying an airplane.

Unfortunately, the engine went out.

Fortunately, there were two engines – unfortunately, the second engine went out.

Fortunately, the man had a parachute – unfortunately, it didn’t work.

Fortunately, there was a haystack in the field below – unfortunately, there was a needle in the haystack.

Fortunately, the man missed the needle – unfortunately, he missed the haystack.

All the rain we’ve had this week made me think of my own fortunately-unfortunately story.

Fortunately, the rain means that I don’t have to fill the chicken waterers – unfortunately, it means the chicken yard is a muddy mess.

Fortunately, the rain will bring more flowers for bees to make more honey – unfortunately, my feet get wet and cold.

Fortunately, the roof of my classroom does not leak – unfortunately, my classroom is a portable building, which means walking through the rain to the bathroom.

Fortunately the rain stopped today and it was a beautiful sunny day – unfortunately the rain is supposed to start again tomorrow.

And that brings me back to the beginning again–Fortunately the rain means I won’t have to fill chicken waterers…

Life on an urban farm is like that–a vicious cycle of fortunatelys and unfortunatelys.

CW Sara’s email had me wondering about fortunately-unfortunately cycles. So I Googled the term.

According to Wikipedia, Fortunately-Unfortunately is an actual word game first played at conventions of the National Puzzlers’ League. Click here to read more.

Writers play a similar game. We call it brainstorming. Instead of fortunately-unfortunately, we say What If?

Your turn: Have you ever played Fortunately-Unfortunately?

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?