Whole New World

Tonight I enacted phase one of the Chicken Unification Project. I cut a hole in the wall between the layer babies and the big birds. Tomorrow I will add some framing and a little door that latches. That way if the youth become obstreperous, I can give the grown-ups privacy. It will be a few more days before I let them all outside together.

 These things can go well or they can go badly, depending on the birds involved. A too-forward young bird can put himself at risk of life and limb by pecking off more than he can reasonably "chew". 

But a little girl might think more about the possibilities and take her time before rushing in.

There's usually a little awe on both sides.

Well. Maybe more awe on one side than the other...there's a lot to look up to when you're only four inches tall.

I left the babies to their adjusting and took a look about; just a short ramble in the yard. I love pansies and johnny jump-ups. I find them unreasonably cheerful. They never fail to make me smile.

I especially love these little peach and lavender ones.

When I headed back into the "barn", I saw that everyone had discovered the door, and all were jockeying for position. Things look to be going very well, and by morning maybe they won't need a door that latches. This would be good because I need to clean out the meat birds barn. AND I am not sure I have the right scraps to make a frame for a door. And I really don't relish a 7am trip to town for lumber scraps.

When my mother died, Katy's Tribe gave me a gift certificate for a memorial plant from Wanczyk Nursery. I had a really hard time deciding what to get. I went last year in search of something, but came away empty handed. Two weeks ago Gene and I went back, and I found exactly what I wanted. A very mature plain old lilac; Syringa vulgaris. 

 

And already it has blooms. My mother loved spring things; forsythia, lilac, and especially lily of the valley which grow in abundance around my front door already. The blooms are a token of good things to come in the ensuing years, I think.

Finally, last but not at all least, on Saturday we enhanced our brood by 6. One did not survive, but here are 5 sweet tiny Ameraucanas who one day will grow big and lay lovely blue-green eggs! 

I love spring. It brings new life, promise and hope. Hope is almost my most favorite thing of all! 

For The Birds (Literally)

And for me, too!

Yesterday I was surfing the inter-webs for some kind of upcycled DIY birdbath that would cost me less than an arm and a leg, or even just less than one arm OR one leg. I found a few that I thought were sort of cute and pinned them to my Pinterest - this for instance, from HGTV - a sink recycled into a birdbath:

It really did not work for Gene at all. There was even nose-wrinkling and a clearly and simply stated "...tacky." in response. I saw some baths made of logs with empty pots atop them, some made just of a pot set on a rock or slab on the ground. I found these - teacups - from Something Wonderful! Loved-loved-loved this, but Gene didn't, and so the idea was discarded:

But then I found this at Home Stories A to Z...:

Now this I love with one exception. It's entirely too... blue? Too ... matching? Too something. It doesn't look like something you'd find on a farm. Not that I am a farm, but I still have a farm brain. I wanted something more earthy, maybe mis-matched, and as cheap as possible - preferably made predominantly with stuff I already have on hand. And as the Beth at Home Stories A to Z says right in her entry about this bit of adorableness "Be creative and add your own flair, pot sizes, rebar size, birdbath top, paint color, etc." In the end I came up with this, and I'll even tell you how!

First, remember that I am hugely cheap and will find a way around spending money any way I can. I foraged in my basement in the tag sale pile until I found a red-rimmed white enamel basin that was destined for a new home. Then I dug up some terra cotta clay pots from the wealth of them that I have acquired over the years. They aren't all the same size, some are stained and chipped, and I didn't even measure them - which became a small issue later, but I am getting ahead of myself. 

We did not have any re-bar, which the original plan called for, and I needed some annuals to fill the pots, so I headed for the store. I found 1/2 inch EMT, a type of electrical conduit, for $1.20 a 5-foot length. Re-bar was $5.20 for 10 feet, and I'd have had to cut it. By using the EMT I saved money and time. It may not last as long as re-bar, but based on my experience with EMT in the past, I suspect it will come pretty close.

I pounded the EMT two feet into the ground in the not-yet-finished (so please don't mind the dirt piles and uneven mulch and infant perennial plugs!) pond garden. At the base I set the largest pot, and then began to slide others down, tipping them as I went. Two wider pots were not cooperating with me - the width of the pot was too great to allow it to rest against the EMT center post AND on the edge of the pot below, which it must in order to be stable. It kept tipping, slipping, and in general annoying me. To compensate, and to avoid a trip back to the store, I used pliers to gently chisel away at the 1/2 inch center hole of the pot until it was more of an oblong shape. This allowed the wider pot to rest against it's neighbor below and the center post, giving it needed stability. I continued placing pots up the post, dry-fitting as I went along.

"Measure twice, cut once" as the saying goes. Or, "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure". Either way, I am a big fan of dry fitting projects. Once I was certain that all of the pots would stay in their angulated positions, I filled them with potting soil. I glued the second-largest pot to the underside of my enamel basin and set it aside. It will take 24 hours to cure fully, so after taking the "finished" picture I removed it from the post - carefully - and set it enamel-pot-side-down to cure.

Oh! I was really frustrated that my last pot would not sit squarely on it's tipped downstairs neighbor. There's really nothing for it to rest on but a bit of pot edge. I solved this by putting a hose clamp onto the EMT at the height of the pot rim so that the screw part of the clamp is opposite the edge of the pot, as above. This way the last pot rests on the pot below and on the hose clamp, which allows it to be more stable and level.

TAH-DAH! Not to bad for an hour and some pondering and even a tiny bit of sweat (it's getting warm out there in the sun!). The pots are planted with very inexpensive sweet alyssum in purple and white, and dusty miller. I love the sage-y silvery haze of dusty miller, and it is very likely to self-seed at the end of the season, so really it's a two-fer.

When I got home from the store the Asphlundh guys were almost in my door yard. These are the things that drive Yoshi completely mad, or used to. Today I convinced him to be more or less silent while they did their job and trimmed our trees away from the wires. He was less than amused by my demands for silence.

When I took baby chicks to visit my neighbor the other day, she asked what was up in my backyard...if you don't know, it does look a little unique. I told her, and I will tell you, too. 

Above, believe it or not, is a tiny little vineyard. Between each pair of posts is a grape vine. Some make wine, some make raisins, some are just for eating and juice and jelly.

And below, we have an orchard. Can you see it? Hint: I was standing right in the middle of it.

It's a little harder to see. But look closely - that's apple, quince, peach, plum, cherry and apricot trees; 15 in all. Mostly apples, though!

Last fall Girl and I planted a bunch of daffodil and narcissus bulbs in the front yard. We naturalized them, just scattering them around. I hope that someday they will fill the whole yard. I think the squirrel dug up about half of them, so of 75 original bulbs we have many fewer flowers. But they will grow and in time there will be hundreds! For Mr. W. this means no mowing until the flowers go by. You think he'd be pleased with this, but he seems rather insistent that he needs to mow soon. Luckily his lawn tractor is down with some sort of illness that prevents starting. (It wasn't me, honest!).

Last but not least, who wants some gratuitous chick pics? Ready?

CHICKS!!

MORE CHICKS!!

CHICKS AGAIN!!

OK, that's enough of that for now. I love it when they do "normal chicken" things, like the little Polish scratching and preening in those last two images. I am starting to make more guesses about what breed some of the more obscure chicks may be. I think we may have Delawares and possibly some Hamburgs. I can't wait to see them all grow!

Crazy, Isn't It?

This past weekend Girl entertained a dog named Abby. Abby is wonderful, brilliant, very well-trained. She's some mix of stock dog, herding dog or heeler. She looks like she'd be great with cattle - low to the ground and stocky, and potentially relentless. This makes her a tad restless, especially when removed from hearth and home. She likes to herd all of the stuffed animals into a pile in the middle of the living room. That takes about thirty seconds. You can send them off to the far corners of the room again, but she's got them back in their pack in a matter of seconds. Sitting still is difficult for her, especially with the glaring distractions of Dazee and Boo, chickens crowing in the yard, cat blowing in and out and humans opening and closing doors and generally wandering about.I took all 3 dogs for a 2 mile walk on Saturday morning, thinking this would tire them out. I was partially right. Boo and Dazee crashed in heaps - Boo managed to get himself jumped on by another big dog, so was traumatized and therefore exhausted. Dazee takes 4-5 steps for every one of mine, so for her that was a pretty long hike. She really wanted a piece of the big dog, but he was much too busy snapping and growling at Boo. Abby, as soon as we were back in the front door asked if we could go again. More. Now. Please. Please?!? By Sunday afternoon I found myself sitting in a chair trying to make everyone relax for a few minutes. Just a few. I managed to get them to remain in their spaces for a whole ten minutes. It was most impressive. Note the Zen-like expression on my face as I try to remain as still and calm as possible while making sure each dog has some sort of physical contact. Very effective.
On Monday morning I headed out for a bit of a trot with Dazee and Boo. I assumed they had recovered from their little walk on Saturday. Dazee had and trotted gamely at my side. Boo, in spite of my going north instead of south, has indeed made decisions about "outside".I expected this really. All four paws planted firmly into the dirt of the upper part of our road. Immovable. He is long on memory and easily traumatized. Being jumped by a Weimaraner has had it's effect, and I doubt I will be able to get him further than a half mile from home ever again. In his mind the outdoors, which has always terrified him, is now populated by mean, angry dogs seeking to kill him.
I finished these socks this week. They're currently called Beachside, although their new owner (Webs) may change that.The yarn is Valley Yarns Superwash DK. The pattern is written toe-up 2 at a time. And there's BEADS! And cables.
The heel is simple stockinette, although heel stitch could just as easily be used. I just liked the simplicity of the stockinette on these. I love them. I hope you do too! I'll let you know when the pattern is available from Webs, in case you want to make a pair for yourself. They would also make a great gift sock I think.
It's getting close to time for Toe-Up 2-at-a-Time Socks to make a public appearance. I don't think I am nervous so much this time as excited. I want to share it. I hope everyone loves it. I already do!

What Could Be Better?

Without sharing too much, I shall say that my mother's recovery from surgery was not without incident, and we're just glad that she's walking, talking, and able to eat on her own. Her recovery has accelerated at a really unbelievable rate considering what happened. Words like "miraculous", "astonishing" and "tremendous" have been bandied about. We were looking at a situation where we dropped off a walking, talking adult and got back someone needing permanent placement in a nursing home. Then one day she woke up, asked for breakfast and a telephone, and the rest is history now. The rough bits of this resulted in a near cessation of all work around here, which means I am missing the deadline for the sample socks to be delivered, but I have made my peace with it. Life happens, the words are delivered, the socks will soon follow and all will be well.
Until then, which feels like it'll be about the time this guy actually flies...Bambi's cousin browses in the side yardWinter shows it's here for good and allthough it can leave any time nowany time at all...And in true New England Murphy's Law style, we needed well men to make water for us, though not without expense. The bad news? "Ya need uh new well pump." The good news? "Ya got ah lottah watah heah."Apparently although our well is 400 feet deep, the...something or other...is at 50 feet. Be a long time before we're out of water, thank God. Still need the dishwasher fixed, but you know, I am not so sure I care any more.
Back to the grind. I've got socks to knit, and knitters to beg and cry at!

(just a taste. Didn't think I'd give you the whole show just yet, didja?!)

It Was Just a Couple of Miles

but from the moment we headed out the door, this is what I had to contend with.
Up Front, Tucker and Dazee:
And Behind, the terrified shell that is Boo-Boo:Leashes in both directions, two ahead, one behind. Six feet each, with me in the middle for a couple of miles.
Mr. Wonderful said what could I expect? After all I was obviously plotting the whole time to leave Boo-Boo in the woods at the mercy of the evil wood-goblins. Yeah. That's so me. Or, he theorized, perhaps Boo-Boo was behind as protection, guarding the rear flank, so to speak. I felt so very safe. Yes indeed, very safe.
There's a wood road, more traveled this past year than in the twenty prior. It used to be an overgrown dirt track through the forest, populated by squirrels, moose, deer, and the occasional ATV or teenagers in a pickup with a full cooler, or human on foot (I know because I was one of them). Then someone put in new long and fancy road, which meant trucks up and down the hill about every fifteen minutes from 7am-5pm carrying rock and gravel for about a week straight. Then the loggers came, and for a while there was tremendous noise and then four or five 18 wheelers a day, up and back down again, stacked high with logs. They've dwindled gradually over the year to one a day and lately none. I decided it was time for me, like the deer and the moose and the squirrel, to tread back cautiously on tip-toe and scope things out. It may be that my trepidation about what the loggers may have done telegraphed to the dog causing him to be obsessive, neurotic and terrified. This isn't a management company. This is a logging operation. Strip, sell and move on. Or it might have just been because the dog is...obsessive, neurotic and terrified.
The good news is the pond is still there. There's no trees on one side of it...but there are trees on this side still. And although one road has been improved to the point that it's practically paved, the other is still it's overgrown, leaf-strewn self.
We did not go all the way to where the majority of the trees were taken out. My husband refers to it in language I cannot use on internet. He and one neighbor have alluded to it's being a bit of a disaster out there. I won't find out for a while. I can't get Owen (Boo-Boo) past the pond for now.
Dazee is all truly a dog now.She found a puddle and walked right in. Owen and Tucker stared at me blandly - "Shouldn't you DO something about that dog over there? It looks kind of stuck." Note mud on legs? What I didn't capture on film was her bouncing in circles in the quick-sand of the muck she'd strolled into, trying desperately to get free of the sucking ooze. It was hysterical, and when I stopped laughing I retrieved her from it. Once liberated, she shook violently and trotted off as if nothing had ever happened.
We headed back along the road less traveled. And as soon as we turned the cornerthree dogs in front, all the way home. That's my Boo.