Dumpster Diving and Baking

I head up to the chicken ladies house every 3 or weeks to help her with chores and things. I love to get her out of the house for some human conversation.

It's become a thing for us to run up the grocery on a weekend for food to make dinner. Her fridge is usually pretty simple. A few over ripe vegetables that need to be eaten, Margarine bowls of comfort foods like chicken and rice, or goulash and 10 or 12 dozen eggs.  Sometimes spoiled milk. I have been known to drink out of the milk carton only to realize that is on its way to spoiling.

Just after the cold snap last winter, she decided that she wanted to see if we could find some greens and fruits for the chickens and geese. It was a cold winter and she wanted to give them a treat.

Dumpster diving is not new for me. My brother and I learned this art when we were kids.  He has better stories than I do, but you can  find some gems if you are persistent. Most of my college furniture digs were found items behind stores. It's pretty standard practice to carry a milk crate and tongs for the long reaches. I also carry bags too.

Not to mention the food waste in this country is crazy. My mom tells me stories that as a child she would get the old food scraps from grocery stores to feed  her mom's chickens. But, like anything else behaviors and laws change.  Each year, the United States throws away one - third of all food it produces. 133 billion pounds of food.  This is a problem.  http://www.businessinsider.com/why-grocery-stores-throw-out-so-much-food-2014-10 
Anyway, we typically find a broken watermelon, melons or greens that the everyone love to eat. Everyone's happy.  

Not only do we find  tasty foods, look at these bad boys, I found two sets of glass casserole dish sets complete with lids tossed in a box sitting next to the dumpster. One was broke but the other three were fine. I just needed to dig them out.
It was a rainy and cold day anyway and we really didn't what do any work outside. So, we decided to have a baking day.

She pulled out a cookbook that had been my grandmothers. The Settlement cookbook. 1944, 26th edition.What does that even mean?
Anyway, we had the oven on for hours and the house was very warm so no need to build a fire. We made jelly rolls, sponge cakes, bundt cakes. Anything that took a lot of eggs. After all, we did have 53 dozen eggs. Clearly, happy chickens lay eggs.
Not only was the cookbook vintage, I found some cream of tartar in a little metal container dated 1972. Believe it or not, it worked and we used it. The rust around the can was a pretty good sign that maybe it was time to pick up more.

Needless to say, me and the Chicken Lady had a grand old time drinking way too much coffee talking about the past and eating cake. Good visit.

It's no FEET for a Chicken

Weather in Michigan can flip on a dime. It was a warmish winter day up with The Chicken Lady and she encountered a strange situation.  She has a couple of coops for her broods to call home. She has her big girls in the main coop and the smaller Bantam chickens in their coop.

But, she also has a few chickens that were either born on the porch or close by that have decided to move in and perch in random places

She has made little dwellings for them to call home. She uses old cat cages or crates, old little boxes in hopes they would use. Some use the recycle bin or even a bucket.

A few of them also perch on the back of the couch. Looking in at us watching TV. I can't but feel weird with that one.

She used to take the time to pick them up and carry them to the coop when it got dark, but it was cold and she felt sorry for them. Plus it keeps them out of harms way when wild critters are wondering around.
Good luck sneaking by a chicken to get in the house.They're not very quiet. Just like any other night, everyone went to bed in their perspective homes. She shuts the door to the hen house and calls it a night.

Each morning routinely, my mother gets up to open the coop doors. She bundles up runs out opens the little door and then usually goes back to bed. This particular winter day she got up, put on her flannel over her nightgown, lit a cigarette, poured a cup of coffee into a large mug that looks like a pair of denim jeans, puts on her boots and wanders outside to begin the process. Fills the cat dish sitting on top of the grill. A few chickens are huddled around the cat food container knowing that she'll fill it up and maybe get lucky with some droppings. A few scramble off the couch  towards her but one little brown hen seemed to jump but squawked and never got down. Flapping her wings, noisy and confused.  At first, mom thought that she was caught on the blanket but, soon realized that she was froze to the couch in a mountain of ice.  Her little chicken legs were stuck.  The day had been warm enough but at night the temps dropped causing the drip to harden throughout the night.

How to thaw a live chicken. The concern was to not break toes or her little chicken legs.
The Chicken Lady took a drink of her lukewarm coffee, took a drag off her cigarette and headed back into the house for a moment.
She came back with a blow dryer and an extension cord and proceeded to melt the ice around the chicken legs.
She was able to free the chicken but wasn't sure if the toes would make it. Later they did turn black and fall off but she survived. Going on her second winter with peg legs she lives on the porch chair that's nice and soft. And when she does wonder around she stays on the carpet, rugs or grass as much as possible. Maybe I will get her a little pirate costume for Halloween.