Almost Nightfall and Sweetie is Missing

Sweetie had an injured foot and was favoring it quite a bit.  I wanted
to keep her in that day, but Mr. Natural over-rode me.  Sweetie is like
the Speedy Gonzalez of chickens.  She's also the one that smoked the
pavement when sliding sideways into the driveway--the one with
aspirations of being a race car driver.  So I thought it was possible and
very probable that she hurt her foot showing off.   She wasn't limping
when she took off with her sisters that morning.  But she would limp
and not even stand on the affected foot when possible.  So I was
worried; the thing I am best at when t comes to the chickens.

Evening came, and only 5 chickens came back, eager to come in.
I can barely move from the most recent fall, but I did go on the porch
and called, and called, and called.  Nothing.  Mr. Natural went up the
road calling and searching.  No luck.  I started calling even louder.  I'm
not joking when I say the chickens can't help but help but hear me;
I'm loud and high-ptiched when calling chickens.  Just when both of us
had given up, here she comes just a running!  I called out to Mr.
Natural, then to Sweetie.  I have never seen a chicken run so fast.
She is seriously into breaking speed records.  I was so relieved.

The next morning she had a foot spa--she was scared and shivering,
but trusted me just the same.  And then as she got used to the warm
water and my cleaning her feet, she nuzzled into me.  I finished by
rubbing antibiotic ointment one each foot as a preventive measure.
I am going to start putting garlic in their water to strengthen their
immune system.  I am a believer in herbs.  But I never thought about
applying that belief to chickens.

I am currently reading several books on chickens and one broke my
heart.  It told how chickens that were raised on chicken farms--just
how horribly they were treated.  I'm not going to say anything further.
If you want the info, leave a comment and I will give the name of the
book. And I can assure you, I will be a good steward of this land
and of my chickens.  They will be cared for even after they quit laying
eggs.  They trust me, and that is huge.  I won't let them down.

All for now--

Kate Thorn

Re-naming of Chickens

This is a late post.  One chicken was re-named, then a second.  We'd
confused the two because they were the same size and very nearly
the same color--and they both pecked. And the other chickens steered
clear of both.  Blondie was the first to buck them.  Oneof them pecked
her ,and quick as a flash, she returned the favor.  That chicken  backed
off.  I started thinking about that and decided to change our strategy.
Blondie became the good chicken she is because she got extra treats,
extra holding and petting.  She blossomed.  We started with a re-naming
ceremony.  No more Pecky!  The darker one became Henny Penny.
She was nervous about being fed by hand at first, taking a quick bite and
running with it, like she didn't trust us or the other chickens.  I was deter-
mined to see that part of the problem changed.

The second chicken became Mercy,  She was the gentler of the two.
We worked together on this including them equally in the flock,
and what a change it made.  They both started seeking us out--
wanting attention from us and as that happened, they became nicer
happier chickens.  When Henny Penny was recovering from a
crop problem, she was quite irate towards the flock.  I simply removed
her, picked her up, and walked around with her, until she was calm.
She did have reason for her irateness. She'd been unable to eat for over
24 hours.  We kept her inside and she recovered.  Got her tail feathers
cleaned by me and had clean water always.  She didn't want to go
outside; she was so quiet, never made a sound.  Slept and rested all day
long.  She did drink plenty. Same thing happened with Mercy a few weeks
later.  She got the same treatment.

During that same period, some form of predator nearly got Henny Penny;
when the rest of the flock would go foraging, she would hide.  The entire
flock limited foraging for nearly 3 weeks, so whatever it was, it scared all
of them.  I tried to stay at home if he was going to be gone so that they
would feel a bit safer.  They all forage now but for as long or for as far
as previously.

All for now

Kate Thorn

No More Chicken Chasing

It finally happened.  I fell again.  A bad one.  Loose gravel on road
going up the hill across from my house,  I hit the gravel and the foot
on the ground went flying and so did I --up in the air--then falling
hard on my back.  The chickens came running and gathered all
around me.  They were making "keening" (distress) sounds.  I tried
to reassure them I was OK.  (I really wasn't) and they all wandered
off except for Blondie.  Me sitting on the road wasn't "normal" and she
knew it.  She stayed close by for about 15 minutes, and then she went
with the other chickens and I was alone.  And I tried.   to get up, but
couldn't due to loose gravel/sand.  I was stuck there--without a coat--
and it was quite cold.  So I cried--like that would help.  I could try backing
up the hill or moving down the hill.  Going up would be more difficult.
And more difficult to walk back down, assuming I was able to get up.

I chose to go down the hill.  I rationalized that it wasn't that far really.
True, it wasn't.  But this is how I had to do it.  Both knees were
sprained--or so it felt like.  I had to raise my body with my shoulders,
and move forward one butt-length at a time.  And rest after three of
these very awkward movements.  I finally made it to the corner; the
street sign was quite sturdy but if I missed, I would end up in a ditch,
one that was quite deep.  I prayed and went forward, then grabbed
for the pole the street sign was on for dear life.  I swung back and
forth for a while.  Just couldn't get my balance.  My knees wouldn't
work.  Finally, I re-gained my balance and was able to stand.  I made
my way slowly across the highway and down my driveway and into
the house.

I was quite shook up.  I probably will be for quite a while.  I've never
felt so stranded in all my life.  Settling into the recliner with my feet on
a warming pad, I took a pain pill which didn't touch the pain.  Even now,
two days later, my back and neck, shoulders, and legs continue to hurt,
and it's difficult to even walk around inside the house.

So no more chicken chasing.  I thought the walking was helping me
get stronger, but not so.  That is the worst fall I've had.  This is definitely
a "blue" Christmas.  I feel as though I'll never truly have a life again.


All for now--

Kate Thorn

New Cat Litter--Warning!

You know the new cat litter, the one being advertised as being so
lightweight.  Since I can't lift the litter box anymore, I really wanted
this, wanted to reclaim my ability to do some everyday chores.

And it is Lightweight--so light  you  (and I) can lift the entire
container with one hand.  I noticed a slight perfume type scent--
nothing drastic.  My daughter and I (mostly she) set up the new
and improved lighter weight cat litter box.  Of course, Daisy didn't
use it until the middle of the night.  Both of us immediately woke
up.  Mr. Natural got out of bed and promptly chose another room
to sleep in.  I didn't blame him.  It was beyond nuclear.  The blend
of perfume, urine, poop reminded me of a cross between a super
smelly litter box and a  super sleazy w*horehouse.  Never been in
one--but the perfume; it was beyond odious!  The litter box was
changed, back to her old heavy litter, the next morning.

Lightweight--Great Idea!!  Scent---Lose the fragrance and I'll be a
customer.  Otherwise, no way.

Oh--the worst part--I was cold that night and grabbed a fleece
sweatshirt.  That day I put on the same shirt thinking it was still
clean. Then  I went with my daughter and grandson to the
grocery store.  When I got in the car, my grandson said, "what's
that smell?"  My daughter asked, "do you have on perfume?" but
face was all screwed up--Yes, I said   fragrance a la daisy litter
box.  She died laughing--I died of embarrassment.

Just a heads up for those with cats!

All for  now

Kate Thorn

How To Operate a Stove

First, it is a fancy stove.  It cost nearly 800.00 new from Lowe's.
Someone returned it saying it didn't work.  Lowe's marked it as
 "fixed" and marked it for sale at 340.00. Mr. Natural and I both love
a deal, so he bought it.  It sat in our living room (honest) a year before
we bought this house.  Something was wrong was with the plug in
connection.  We called the company that made the stove and they
sent the missing part and we were good to go--except for the manual--
which we could access online, but no physical copy.

We read over it briefly.  Thought we knew how to work it.  But no, not really.
But we muddled through it.  Until last night.  I was very tired.  His being sick
for so long and my chasing after the chickens had exhausted me and
affected my brain.  So tired I couldn't remember anything but essentials, like
meds, food, getting chickens in and out.  And I couldn't get stove to
turn on.  I reviewed the process.  Still, it wouldn't come on.  So I had
to call tech support--that being my daughter.  She was in Asheville--30
minutes away.  But she came.  She couldn't get it to work either.  But she
knew what to do.  Cut the breaker off and back on.  (Why didn't we
think of that? Maybe the shingles?  Or his gall bladder attack?)  25
minutes later I got to finally eat my Amy's organic vegetable pot pie.

Then my daughter called, laughing hysterically.  Seems I had activated
the child's locks on the stove.  I didn't even know  it had a child lock.
Now I do.  I must download at least a basic set of instructions,or we'll
never learn how to use it!

All for now

KateThorn

Ginger Chicken Goes To The Vet

The last really cold snap we had, my neighbors were worried about
my chickens and their combs.  I had read to put Vaseline on them, but
since I'm anti-petroleom byproducts, I didn't use vaseline.  After
my neighbor told me her concerns plus the fact  that her sister used it
on her chickens, I was embarrassed about being amiss in caring for
my chickens.  They enjoyed my rubbing it on, sat very still--very proper
chickens.

I was more concerned about Ginger's comb than any of the others.
Her's was damaged when she was small, so I wasn't sure how she'd
handle the cold.  The end of the first day her comb looked a little
"rusty" in color, but I thought she'd just gotten some dirt stuck to the
Vaseline.  The end  of the even colder 2nd day, her comb was black.
The next day was Monday and I made an appt with a vet.  I explained
the old injury, etc to the vet.

My daughter was skeptical.   But Ginger went into Daisy's cat carrier
easier than I thought.  Seat belted into the back seat, there she was
and when the car started moving, she started cooing more than she ever
had.  Apparently, she liked to ride in cars!  Who knew?

When we got there, I was asked her name by the secretary.  I said
Ginger,  "And her last name?"  I didn't realize chickens had last names,
so I was quite flustered and said, Ginger Chicken".  I had forgotten
that Ginger Chicken was actually a dish made with chicken.  My daughter
said, "Sounds tasty."  But it was too late to change it by then. I was
horrified. Since these chicken came into my, I no longer eat chicken
of any kind.

Ginger and I went into exam room and I got Ginger out of cage and I
held her while vet examined her.  "I think this may just be dirt"  And the
vet began to clean her comb gently.  Ginger did great.  Vet was surprised
that she she didn't have to be anesthesized to accomplished this.  I was
indignant.  "My chickens have manners--they're used to being handled."
That would sound crazy anywhere but Asheville.

Went back outside after figuring out how to get cat carrier back together,
I went outside, sitting chicken on the floor, and gave my credit card to pay,
Didn't ask how much or anything.  I was trying to ask when I dumped my
whole pocketbook's contents on the countertop.  I  finally got it put back
together, and was told that the 10 minute cleaning of'comb cost me 63.00--
howeverI did learn Never to use Vaseline--that it prevented the skin from
breathing and actually made the chicken colder.  Live and learn  and pay
for the experience. 

All for now--

Kate Thorn

How to Meet Your Neighbors

Free Range Chickens is not a way I'd recommend, but that's how
I've met most of mine--and whether I've met them or not, they all know me.
I'm the "chicken girl".  The one who rounds the chickens up for the day.
Escorts them across the highway, stopping traffic for chicken crossings.
And when the chickens eyes are on me with complete trust, and they
are barrelling down a hill oblivious to the traffic, what can you do but
get in the road and say chicken crossing,  Or watch one who fancies
herself a race car driver slide sideways into the driveway kicking up a
cloud of dust.  People ask about the chickens.  I never knew chickens
were such a fascinating topic, but they are.  The chickens were Mr.
Natural's idea.  Now I'm looking after them.

All for now--

Kate Thorn

Late Night or Epiphanies

You know how it is.  You wake up after about two hours of sleep
and you just can't sleep.  And I have a new TV--one of those kind
impossible to figure out--a smart one--that most people that aren't
tech oriented spend hours trying to figure out.  So watching TV was
of the question. 

So I got out of bed and started washing dishes.  Would be done had I
not used the dishwasher.  These are modern conveniences.  The dishwasher
holds X amount of dishes, so I complete them by hand.  So much for
time-saving.

Have you ever thought about the time saving gadgets we now have
that takes  more time to operate than the plain ordinary variety--yet
they are supposed to be "smart"--so you can tweet, email, and text--
even while driving--and there you go weaving along--what road?
Oops--missed that red light!  Crash! And my daughter was was the
lucky recipient of a totaled car!

I went 5 years without a telephone and 15 years without a TV.  I
got a smart TV for Christmas--my daughter will have to teach me how to use
it.  My  goal and incentive for this TV is to rid myself of direct
TV and their high rates.  I only watch TV in the evenings--usually my
knees and legs hurt so badly that is the length of activity for thepart of the day.

All for now--

Kate Thorn