After a month of consistently, sometimes brutally freezing temperatures, we had a thaw today. It reached 40 degrees! I dumped all indoor plans and got suited up – necessary because the snow is still above my knees, and up to my waist in certain places. I slipped into the trusty muck boots and the thick gloves, but skipped the hat after a while, for the sun beat hard and warm, and there was no wind.


First up: a trip to the compost bin. We had been collecting our food scraps in buckets on the porch – which is fine as long as they’re frozen, but not so good when they defrost. I plowed my way over there, then dug out the top of the bin. In the image I’m standing on top of the snow. The black rim behind me is my Earth Machine. Looking down into it afforded a new point of view. 2 five gallon buckets of food scraps went in. I didn’t close up the bin just yet.
Next up, the coop. I took the picture above standing on top of the snow again. Those first layers really pack down. The heat in the deep bedding that worked so well last year could not keep up with the bitter cold, so all the chicken poop sat piled up in stalacmites, frozen. I opened the back of the coop, hacked away at the mess, collected four 5 gallon buckets. These too had to be dragged to the compost pile. Then I had to play some heavy tetris with chairs and tables and bikes and the lawn mower in my shed, all to get to the bag with clean wood shavings. But the hens can be happy with their clean coop. They’re laying about three eggs a day now. Thank you, Ladies! As soon as I can conceivable get to the snowed-in hay, I’ll spread it over the muck and mud in your run!
Here’s some of our fire wood:
It’ll be for spring.

Andrea asked for a chicken update. The nine ladies are all doing well, looking only somewhat worse for wear. It’s been really cold but that’s not as much a problem as is the state of their run. It’s impossible to shovel the snow out of there. So they have only a small area (under the coop, and the small part of the run that is covered) to scratch around and be in each other’s company.

But with the return of daylight they’ve started laying more egg, about 3 a day now. Oreo, the Amerecauna who stopped laying about six months ago, has returned to her usual self, laying one every day now – we know because she’s the only blue egg layer. She is the chicken who sometimes laid two eggs a day.


Another foot (or more, yikes) has started to come down but Amie couldn’t wait to go try her home-made chicken harness. She brought Jenny into the porch to “walk her”. I don’t know if Jenny enjoyed that…


Winter, winter… you’re still here. How can we miss you when you won’t even leave? It snowed some more, a lot more. See Amie and DH in the previous post, posing in the path, barely ankle deep? We got over two feet after that and were happy that blizzard (Juno, they called it?) did not turn into a historic one.


But the snow was again light and fluffy, so no trees came down and we didn’t lose power, and it wasn’t a big deal to shovel another path down the driveway, at the bottom of which we carved out space for the two cars parked there. A path to the coop and dig out the poor hens, and rake the snow off the porch roof, which isn’t all that strong, and we are all set for the next batch of snow, due Sunday evening.


Another good thing that came out of the blizzard warning was that we got all our bug-out bags restocked, stashed some more drinking water, and recharged all the batteries and emergency radios in the house.

Today we restock our art/media room. Yesterday at the art museum homeschool program Amie had a blast making a Holy Chicken Holding the Cosmic Egg.


May it bring luck and a fortune in eggs to our household!


Homeschooling is going even better than I had expected. We are sticking to a strict schedule in the mornings, with a steady core curriculum in math and language arts. In the afternoons we do Latin and, after that, we launch into our history/science module. I’d say the last one is our favorite along with logic, Latin and word roots. This is the pile of books accumulating in the subjects we’ve chosen for our science/history module:
Yes, I know. But Amie and I both agreed we couldn’t start “History” with written history, or with the first humans, or the first life, or even the formation of our planet and so… we began with the Big Bang. And obviously we can’t do history apart from science. So: wonderful stuff!

Our first home school field trip was to the NOFA Mass Winter Conference. During lunch Amie went shopping at the stalls, all by herself. She had $5. After chatting with each farmer and herbalist and activist and whatnot, she got some fancy lip balm. We also bought bumper stickers. This one is her favorite and ended up on her cello case:


On Friday we had our next field trip to the Museum of Fine Arts, which has a great homeschool program. I got to walk the halls for an hour and a half, and located this poster:


Soon we’ll have to open those seed catalogs and start planning the garden. At the NOFA conference I picked up a lot of information on trace minerals. We went with a group and divvied up the workshops among us. Next week we meet to discuss the many gardens now in play: our personal gardens (about four, some of them quite large), three large Community Garden Plots, and some School Gardens as well. These come with town-wide compost systems that take in scraps from the schools’ lunchrooms, pounds and pounds of coffee grounds from a local coffee shop, and now, also, kitchen scraps from the local Whole Foods. Lastly, the surplus goes to Food Pantries and shelters in the neighborhood.

I’ve not had time to write much here, but please stay tuned!

It’s been a while since I blogged. The reasons were house guests over the holidays with whom we gladly dug in like hermits, eating wonderful home-cooked meals, playing board games with the kids when we could locate them, and reading books by the fire. Also, we watched Sharknado 2: The Second One together. It’s a ritual, better not to ask any further. And we played with Google Cardboard.


I also prepared a lot for homeschooling, which started yesterday. Here we are at the beginning of our first day:


That’s my newest excuse (for not cleaning too): homeschooling is taking up a lot of time, but it’s a blast and both Amie and I have taken to it. We go from 9 to 3, learning awesome stuff – as you can see, I’m also adopting nine-year-old vocab. We started a home school blog where both of us post every day (so far), but because Amie is also writing there we decided to keep it private to those whom she knows personally. As a long-time blogger I know how fraught with difficulties public blogging is, One of the issues is not knowing who one’s audience is and, this way, she can picture her readers which makes it easier for her to write.

I’ll be sure to write about homeschooling here (the homestead-related angle) as I slowly get my head above water. Scheduling is a challenge, also creating pockets of time when Amie can work by herself so I can do “my own” things, like blogging and Transition work (and cleaning). Though, admittedly, a lot of what I teach in home school is also “my thing”. For instance, I’m revisiting my beloved Latin and learning about the Big Bang and first life and the evolution of humans, with my daughter. How awesome is that? Ha.


One more thing I love about homeschooling is that there is no rushing out the door, waiting in line, etc. We keep a tight schedule (start at 9 sharp), but our first day, for instance, we remained in PJs.

During our hour of lunch and recess we visit the chickens, feed them, collect eggs. Today we did so in gently falling snow. It’s good to be out in the fresh air, and the hens are so happy to see us with warm water and kitchen scraps.

I just went to check on them. Our chicken coop door opener is a fantastic little machine and ultra convenient, especially in the mornings. But we do check on it every evening after dark to make sure it closed and that all the hens made it inside before it did.

The moon is just over the cusp of full, very bright still, high in the black, naked sky. The Pleiades twinkled through her light, though not so much the Milky Way (which we learned about today). The shadows were very crisp on the fresh blanket of snow, creaking under my boots. It is 8 F (-13 C), and falling, falling to a predicted -5 F tomorrow night (that’s – 20.5 C).

There’s only one chicken I’m worried about: one of the Buff Orpingtons. She looks scruffy and her comb and wattles are pale. The bees I worry about constantly. I’ll check on them after this cold snap.

Happy New Year, everyone.

A couple of days ago Amie and her friends ran inside in a panic: there’s blood, blood! I ran out with them and found a crazy chicken yard with screaming chickens and screaming children. Also a broad streak of blood on the roost. Imagine my relief when I found it was just one of the pullets who had broken off a toe nail. But so much blood! They say chickens bleed heavily, even if the wound is small, and now I know it’s true.

I pulled Jenny out of the coop and brought her inside. I washed and disinfected the toe, bandaged it, and gave her a night in the dog crate in our warm kitchen. In the morning she went straight back into the coop, though.



The most interesting part was the kids’ reactions. They’re 9, 9 and 13. Amie was crying, her friends were intrigued, but when asked what they’d do if their pet was bleeding, they said they’d panic and then call the vet. I brought up scenarios of the vet not being open, the wound not being that serious, etc. I didn’t say they too should be prepared to stay calm and treat a wound, that they shouldn’t push all responsibilities onto a “specialist,” but become specialists themselves, but I sure did model it.

For weeks Ive been looking out for more tiny pullet eggs. Not a one. I thought the older hens had stopped laying and the pullets had immediately skipped to the big egg scale. Then today Amie was trying to round up all the escaped hens and ended up missing one. Where was Lucy? We looked and looked with the ominous sound of either a jay or a hawk above us. Then Amie laughed out loud and yelled “Mama, Mama, come see what Lucy is sitting on!”

I came running and there they were, in a hollow in a little side yard, not even within the confines of the chicken yard fence: TWENTY-ONE pullet eggs:


They’re definitely pullet eggs. Compare to the big egg:


So, we have a nest box situation. I’ve two boxes for nine hens, which the books says is sufficient, but not for my flock. Also, these pullets seem to like a leafy, grassy nest, while the older hens always make it a point to clear out the boxes to the bare wood. I’ll need to make a special box for the pullets, preferably somewhere inside the coop…

I’ll have to chuck all these eggs. Who knows how old the oldest one is, and it’s been pretty hot (75F) these last couple of days. Amazing, though, they are all intact, even though they were just out there, unprotected.

Joining the flocks after letting them spend their days in the large chicken yard together has been less dramatic than we feared. Still, in the mornings they start hollering to be relieved of each other’s close company around 6 am. I get up, pull on a sweater (that time of year), slippers and head out, a bleary-eyed zombie, and open the door for them, then go back to bed and to sleep. Not fun.

So I did some research on chicken coop door (“pop hole”) openers. I looked at many systems and products and in the end went for one of the more expensive but (I hope) less troublesome systems: the VSB motor that runs on batteries and by a light sensor made in Germany by AXT Electronic. I might get the timer, but we’ll see how the sensor works first.

I bought the motor, the rails and the door in one package from a US supplier, then got the outdoor sensor from AXT Electronic directly. It’s all pretty light and small:


My install was going to be pretty straightforward. There is a lot of space in the coop, and no studs, etc. At first I thought I’d cover the pop hole that was already there, but it was too wide and, anyway, I thought it would be good to keep that one free (though closed), in case the electronic door stops working and the hens need to get in or out quickly. Also, since that new roost is pretty well stuck, it would have been hard for me to reach that area. Lastly, I figured that by moving the pophole and ramp to the other side, it’ll make access to the coop easier for humans.
So I decided to cut a new hole. It took some effort as I had to cut through the box and the siding.
Not straight, but it’ll do.

Whatcha doin?
Whatcha doin?

Then with the help of a bubble level, a pencil and my in spite of my perfectionist ambition to get it all level and straight, etc., I managed to install the rails.
The instructions aren’t very clear, so here are some tips:
1) The “stops” mentioned in the instruction are the two screws you put into the bottom of the rails. When the door hits those, the motor will stop unwinding the cord. So make sure you install those bottom holes on the inside.
2) Make sure the stops are an inch or so below the pop hole you cut. That way, when the door is closed, an enterprising long- and nimble- fingered raccoon can’t get its digits underneath the very light door and pry it open.
3) Don’t install the rails extra tightly against the door: you want it to slide easily, but also don’t give too much leeway.

So far so good. Then I installed the VSB box. First I opened the door to where I want it, then marked the highest point of the paper clip. I held the VSB so that that point overlapped with the bottom of the loop in the pull cord. It’s at that point that the VSB will stop retracting the cord (there is a tiny bead on the cord that pushes up the white lever, making the engine stop). Screwing it in requires a long drill bit.
The distance between the bottom of the door when closed and the VSB can’t be more than 60 cm, which is about 23 inches. I was good.
When I threaded the loop through the paperclip and let the door hang on it, it turned out the cord has some give, so I put in a knot to make the loop less long, giving the hens an extra inch.

The sensor is threaded through a small hole in the bottom of the box and attached to the 5 and 6 pins. I put in the batteries, covered the sensor, and it worked! Here’s a 40 sec video:

I closed the box and guided the sensor cable along the open eaves of the coop. I taped it down on the inside and the outside (my hens like to climb up there) so they don’t get the idea to peck at it.
Then I closed the other hatch and moved the ramp over.

The real test will happen this evening and tomorrow morning: then I’ll see if the door closes not too early, not too late. If it does, I’ll need to adjust the sensor’s light sensitivity.

Beyond making my life easier, this kind of technology makes it possible for schools and businesses to have chickens without burdening custodians and volunteers. Wouldn’t it be neat for your neighborhood school to have chickens?

{UPDATE} It works perfectly: all chickens made it in at night, and this morning I was not woken up by their squabbling!

Our pullets espouse an escapist ethic. They fly up into the vines and no fence that I’ve put in place – the highest being six feet – has kept them in the chicken yard. Their adventures have led them into the vegetable garden, which is no big deal at this point, as most of the plants in there are done, but come Spring I won’t appreciate their visits.

They found the compost bins!
They found the compost bins!

They hang out under the raspberry bushes where I’m not keen on searching for their eggs. They are venturing further and further down the drive way, and soon the neighbors will have to swerve and the neighborhood dogs, some of which are just loose in the streets, will have themselves a nice raw chicken nugget.
So, enough of that. I became a Youtube expert in wing clipping and with Amie’s helped clipped those wings.

Victim number one: a Buff (I can’t keep the two apart):

Ten flight primary feathers (I clipped only their right wings):
Done, and the other Buff comes to investigate:
The pullet jumped off and continued her scratching, no harm done. The primary flight feathers don’t have a blood supply, as you can see from the next shot: the shafts are a pure white.

And some video:

We may march in the Big Apple in the biggest Climate Action in the world, ever, but then we come home where our lives are (somewhat) normal and comfortably small. Here we concoct an elder syrup of elderberries, elder flowers, astragalus root, peppermint and homegrown, raw honey. In fact, over a quart of it!
One jar sits in the door of my fridge and gets sampled every day. The rest went into the freezer, which is safe for honey.

We also celebrate the arrival of pullet eggs! We’ve found five so far (these pullets are master flyers and escape over the fence to the great beyond quite often, so who knows), so must be more than one pullet. Figuring out which ones is nigh impossible, but it’s not essential. As the eggs gain their mature size, we might be able to start telling the difference.


The days are shortening and cooling fast. I made that wonderful escarole, garlic and cannellini bean soup with an escarole head from the CSA box. Yum!