Chicken Dinner ?

After we evicted the chickens out of the pole barn we had 2 roosters that needed to be dealt with. First thing out of the Chicken lady's mouth "Rooster for Dinner?"  The look on my face was priceless as she headed for an ax.

She would tell me childhood stories of her mother breaking the necks of chickens. All those stories came flooding back to me in that instant. At that moment I thought, what does she want me to do?? I've lived up here all of my childhood life, but I live in the city and buy my chicken at the store. I was looking for a quick out like maybe could go rake the yard or pick up sticks.

Well, I wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought I would be. After this, I feel I'm ready for a zombie apocalypse. I can kill my own food if I had to.

Not sure if my readers are ready for a picture of a headless chicken but its true. The body still moves without the head attached. It didn't run or walk around but it was still very much active for a few minutes beyond decapitation.

She cleaned the birds in the kitchen sink and I get a question that I didn't  expect to hear. "Have you ever seen Chicken balls? Um, well no. Never crossed my mind to think about chicken balls.

Since we are learning things here, chickens have some pretty big balls. Ranks right up there with chicken earlobes and wondering if they have them.

I googled it and there's a lot of recipes out there for the balls delicacy. Well, the dogs enjoyed them and as enjoyed our chicken in a roasting bag.

Chickens Evicted

I'm headed up to help the Chicken Lady with her chores. I normally go up every 3 or 4 weeks to help keep the property up, the woods at bay, critters from creeping and wood to cut. I don't mind as it's peaceful and it's away from the rat race. I can take the time to smell the flowers and see the sunset.

I've mentioned before about how her chickens lay eggs in the strangest of places. For example, find eggs in the recycle bin, on the porch swing, in a milk crate or in a bucket.

If she doesn't find all the eggs they hatch and surprise, we have little fuzzy tennis balls with legs peeping showing up out of nowhere.

You read the story about Courage and why she lived in the pole barn.
Well, it turns out she was renting out the place to 13 more chickens, pooping on everything. It's like they were throwing parties at night tipping things over, pulling things off the rafters, jumping on things, and making really big messes.

Spring is here and we needed to reclaim the pole barn back to get work done.

At night, chickens like roost in high areas. It's 10 o'clock at night, we head to the barn to capture chickens. Armed with a flashlight and a fishing net. I wish I could have recorded it because the blood curling sounds were chilling. I did put the video on my phone and put it in  my pocket. It sounded more like a a massacre was taking place.

At first, I was nervous as chickens are really loud and flapping wings flapping. I'm not around this on a regular basis  but as we captured a couple it was getting fun and I wanted to run around like a kid chasing chickens. I understand the concept now.
She showed me how to grab and carry them by the feet. They get real quiet that way I guess they sort of go to sleep.

We put the 2 roosters in a cage (for another story) and put the hens out in the coop with the rest of the gang.  The next day we began to put the place back together from the panicked crazy chickens.

Just run away.

Being able to escape the hustle of life and run away into nature is one of the most glories reasons to be alive. My children have been able to witness life's miracles and the feeling of joy it brings. Life is hard for all of us and many times the Chicken Lady has had to help life along the way. From time to time babies get tossed aside and discarded for a variety of reasons  She intervenes and has saved the lives of many that otherwise would have been doomed.
In this picture, meet Custer, Brownie and Duckie the goose. They are the lastest survivors from abandonment for one reason or another.  They all have a story to tell that the Chicken Lady has told countless times. As a Kid, it wasn't surprising to come home to a new"pet" or learn that something had been rescued.
One time I was mowing the lawn with a push mower and stopped quick as a kitten poked his head up in front of me. The thought of almost running it over mortified me. I had a new kitten and got myself out of finishing the lawn. Countless stories I could share of humanitarian efforts by The Chicken Lady.

It's a blessing that my kids get to experience nature in such its simplest form. We talk all the time about how things come to be. We walk in the woods and turn over logs to see what's underneath or kick over mushrooms, chase each other. It's all about life and balance.

Some days it's only about picking flowers to put on the dinner table as you share a meal. Some days it's about gathering eggs for the next big breakfast. It's about cutting wood for the coming winter.Whatever your day brings the importance is to embrace it and enjoy.

 

Learning about life in these simple forms are the building blocks of growing up a good person and understanding efforts on Mother Earth.
My current profession is sustainability which means to not

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.