Steel Kitten: chickens

Showing posts with label chickens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chickens. Show all posts

Happy Monday all. Extra happy because I have this week off work. Shame it's going to be so grim weather-wise but still. I live in the UK and as all Brits know, this is how our summers roll. 😁







So, I succeeded in getting my airing cupboard sorted and looking much better. The rooms look clean and tidy without all the fabric piled up everywhere. I even managed to put everything in piles by size order. I have single, double and king size beds in the house so I keep bedding sets for all them. There was quite a sizeable pile of stuff to go to a charity shop.




Last Monday I also worked out how to do great crackling without drying out the joint. I've tried for years to work it out but never could quite manage it and end up with succulent joint as well. So, I actually looked it up on the internet (and I thought the internet was just for reading blogs and looking at cat memes 😁). Wash and dry the joint thoroughly then score it. Rub on sea salt, especially into the cracks. Slice an onion and pile it in the middle of a roasting tin. Put the joint on top and add 1/2 - 1 inch of water (I used boiling water) carefully to the bottom of the tin. Start off with the oven temp on high 200 - 220oC and then turn down to 160-170 after 20 minutes and cook as normal according to weight. Watch the level of the water and top up as necessary. 



To go with it, I found some rhubarb in the freezer and made a nice tart compote and fnished everything off with a plum crumble. Leftover pork went into the freezer with a few other bits of leftover roast meat, ready to be transformed into something amazing at a later date.



For the first time in quite a while I made a cake, a strawberry/raspberry, vanilla and almond one layer gluten free cake. I very rarely bake gluten-free as the results are usually pretty poor. I only did a little bit of mixture, probably about a quarter of what I would normally do for a Victoria sponge, in case it was a failure and I wasn’t sure how much the fruit would sink if I made one much bigger. It was amazing. Twenty-four hours later there's only one slice left. I should have gone bigger. 



Harvested my first pak choi, which I wilted in a pan with some rocket. I picked it because it was starting to run to seed - I could see the flower spike beginning to grow up in the middle. It was so nice I’m thinking of getting some more seeds going and see if I can have a supply through the winter. 






A few weeks ago we bought four more chickens two point-of-lay at 18 weeks and two young 8-week old cream legbars, complete with little frizzy hair-styles. 



Our existing chickens haven't been so well this winter and they no longer lay with any regularity so we invested in some new ones. The babies have only this weekend got to a size where I'm comfortable letting them out to roam a bit. Baldrick has been catching a lot of wood pigeons lately and the baby chickens were about the same size. I didn't want them ending up a cat snack. 

A few other things happened.

We went to a funeral on Thursday afternoon, which went very well. The deceased was the friend of Martin's I'd mentioned before that was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer. They gave him about six months to live but in reality he only managed six weeks. He was a bit of a local character, and if something was going to happen it usually happened to him so there was a lot laughs when his wife shared some of her stories during the service. It was a very light-hearted service and what Martin's friend would have wanted. He was never one to feel sorry for himself. 

A few weeks ago I was surprised to be awarded £150 in vouchers from my firm to celebrate seven years of employment. I asked for garden vouchers and early last week we bought two new recliners for the patio. We got one out to road test and it immediately started to rain. Back into the shed it went and there it has stayed. British summers...😀

Finally, I've got back into Life Below Zero, which is probably my favourite TV series of all time (trying not to binge watch though. Don't want to fall back into the trap of hours of mind-numbing screen-time). I feel a real affinity for the life of Glenn Villeneuve and the reasons he lives out there. He has a child-like innocence and wonder about life that I wish I had. You can tell he has spent a great deal of time thinking about the values he holds dear and then adjusting his life to fit with those values. He is always learning, always willing to accept that there is more for him to learn. It’s refreshing. It's made me wonder how I would cope somewhere like that, if I could survive. Truthfully, probably not. I like a bit of adversity, I enjoy challenge but the uncertainty of the food and water supply, the continual presence of predators, I would never relax or sleep soundly. Frankly, I don't know how Glenn does! Sleep deprived I would make one false move with an axe or a chainsaw and that would be that! 












I'm getting into a daily rhythm with the social distancing.

DH's alarm goes off at 5am, he gets up, I go back to sleep. The lighter mornings wake me up around 6:30am but I won't get up until after 7am. I like the initial morning doze in the warm. Once I'm up the cats are let out, tea for me and mother-in-law, litter trays emptied and cleaned and I check the news online. Text my mother and sister to see how it goes with them. Then shower, maybe some yoga stretches, and then I get down to the business of the day.

Work is coming in fits and starts. We no longer have face-to-face meetings with clients, so our customer service team has been re-booking teleconferences with those who are still working. This has disrupted the normal flow of things and documents have slowed down.

I like the structure of work, it helps me focus on other things besides what is going on in the world. I have been alternating editing with housework. Edit a report, hoover the landing, edit a report, wipe the door handles, edit a report, steam clean the bathroom floor, etc. Break for lunch and to read my book, 30 minute nap, and then it begins again, with the ironing done sometime mid-afternoon. Mother-in-law goes for a trot round outside. I throw a few more yoga shapes if I'm stiff, maybe weed a veg bed. No-one visits here except the occasional parcel delivery man - DH picks up our mail from our postman so he doesn't have to stop here.

DH texts to see if I want anything before he comes home (the answer is usually no). He picks up anything mother-in-law needs, or posts off something my parents need (yesterday it was latex gloves). Then he comes in, strips off and showers. I take all outdoor clothes down to be washed. We sit on the bed with tea and watch the daily update. I cook the dinner, hang up the washing, do a bit of reading/painting/watch a film, do DH's lunch and then go to bed by 10pm.

At 5am the alarm goes off and we start again.

It is a boringly normal day, every day and that's the way we're trying to keep it. Low key, unsurprising and distanced from as much of the world as possible. We want to be part of the solution, not the problem.

So, with all the Coronavirus recommendations (including the new ones that came out this afternoon) it looks like we're practising social isolation and distancing. For introverts like us three (five if you count the cats) I'm hoping it won't be too tough. In fact the only social extroverts around here are the chickens 😁

MIL is 86 with many health issues, so could be badly affected by catching the flu. She's a bit of a homebody anyway, doesn't socialise and doesn't seem unduly upset with the prospect of isolation,  although she isn't happy that she wasn't able to see her niece last weekend for a planned (but cancelled) lunch because the young lady had just come back from a holiday in Slovenia with a cold. We basically had to be very firm with MIL about not going and she's now quite thankful that we did. She  understands the dangers.

Martin is a concern; as a postman he is still going to be going out and delivering mail. Royal Mail has issued guidelines to its posties over the weekend on how to deliver packages that require the homeowner to sign - basically they will not be expected to sign and Martin must put the packages on the floor, knock/ring the bell and then step back a safe distance until the person picks up the parcel and closes the door. We have been considering everything he does from during the day, from when he pulls into the car park at the Royal Mail warehouse until he gets home. He is equipped with wipes to clean his van, gloves for handling parcels and hand sanitiser to use frequently throughout the day.

As for me, I work from home, rarely go into the office and only go out to the shops now and then for groceries. My gym membership has run out as well so I won't be renewing. I'll look at that again in the autumn. At the end of January I decided to reduce my visits to charity shops and went cold turkey on them for almost all of February. I had been experiencing odd withdrawal reactions when I didn't go that surprised me; I was quite unhappy and had a Fear Of Missing Out on bargains. I realised I needed to tackle it. Thankfully I'm past that now but it took nearly four weeks to get there. It seems a bit prophetic now and I'm glad I'm not dealing with those feelings while trying to get my head round COVID 19 restrictions. So, I'll be ok with the isolation I think.



I took the photo above in my local supermarket 10 days ago as I went past the toilet paper aisle to get some peas. Personally, I put food above toilet paper. Let's face it, there's no shortage of things you could use instead of the toilet tissue in an emergency. I'm saving MIL's daily newspaper and am delighted to see that modern inks don't come off on your skin. I'll say no more! 😂

Thankfully, I started building up a groceries stockpile a while ago in response to Brexit so I haven't had to do much shopping, just plugging a few apparent gaps, such as cat food, sugar, bits for Martin's lunches, stock cubes, cider and frozen veg. I was concerned about the possible higher cost of food, aiming for my stockpile to smooth any Brexit transition rather than going to the shops and finding my weekly shopping jumping by 10-20% in one go. As it stands, it now seems that it will help us over the next few months as we socially distance ourselves. I'll still pop out for a few bits of fresh now and then but otherwise I'm here working, reading, gardening and painting.

Interestingly, I never even considered hand sanitiser for my stockpile (why would I for Brexit?) so only had a little bottle for travel purposes, but I did have isopropyl alcohol and aloe vera gel for various reasons. I have mixed these together in a 75% alcohol minimum solution and we use that.

We'll get by.


I underwent a lot of quiet reflection during our holiday.

We've been here for two years and during this time we have not made any major changes to the smallholding. The plans we had before we moved here revolved around making us as self-reliant as possible by growing our own food and producing our own energy. Smallholding, homesteading, pioneering, that has been a strong interest of mine for many years but I was having problems making it a reality here.

At the point we went on holiday I was drifting, wanting to do more but just not. I've felt a bit like we've been flirting around the edges of smallholding. I keep animals, but only during specific months; I don't keep them year round or breed them. I grow some fruit and veg but not extensively and in any great quantity. I harvest some of the existing fruit from the trees but not in any great quantity. We have wood burners but buy in logs instead of sustainably harvesting from our own property and finding free logs. We have a funky old (probably useless) well and plenty of roof space that yields thousands of litres of rainwater and sunshine every year yet we pay full whack for mains water and electricity. 

It took until almost the end of the holiday, nearly three weeks away from normality, for the penny to drop. Being interested in something is not being committed to it. For a long time at the old house I was interested but not committed to living well there because I never considered it my home. We bought the old house with the intention to renovate and move on within a couple of years but we got caught by the recession and ended up living there for 11. We decorated it with sale in mind, keeping colours neutral and never quite unleashing our creativity. Everything was done with The Sale in mind. I got used to being interested in how much I could make but not committed to living in the house and I brought that here with me.


There's a difference between interest and commitment. When you're interested in doing something, you do it only when it's convenient. When you're committed to something, you accept no excuses - only results.

KEN BLANCHARD
I haven't allowed myself to emotionally attach to this place, I'm still not committed to it. I'm not psychologically invested and this has translated into taking the minimal actions I need to maintain the smallholding, I haven't been putting in the daily effort needed to develop and deepen my commitment. I couldn't see it while knee deep in daily life here, I needed that time away to develop that perspective.

So, when we got back I took a look around. I actually do love this place. The peace, quiet and space, even though I don't always find it easy to live with my MIL which, if I'm honest, has contributed to me feeling unsettled.

I pulled out my plan for the smallholding. By now we should have: 

  • a polytunnel in the paddock
  • part of the front lawn laid to veg beds with the aim of achieving sufficiency in 90% of our fruit and veg for 5-6 months of year
  • increased the energy efficiency inside the house to the maximum possible to try and get us to an EPC rating of B of above (currently D)
  • completed some kind of resource generation activity, such as solar panels, a rainwater harvesting system or growing our own biomass to burn to achieve 50% sufficiency in energy. 

So far, all we've done is installed a new efficient boiler outside when the old indoor system became dangerous, and replaced a few halogen bulbs with LED ones when they blew

I realised I couldn't make up for lost time but I could make a start. 



Over the last month I found some cheap collar boxes on ebay and have begun arranging them to create an area of raised beds to the side of the house. The small patio garden will get higher beds and more soil. 


Over the last couple of weeks I have expanded the fruit trees in the paddock with raspberries, black, red and white currants, a gooseberry and a couple of tayberry bushes in front of that. All of these either came with us or were bought last year but never planted up.



The fencing is all temporary so I can make changes if necessary, but at some point over the next 12 months permanent stock fencing and a gate will go in. At the moment the chicken pen forms one side of the section, but I'll be moving that back by a pen length and adding a fenced area for chicken scratching. 



Talking of chickens, we now have three new ladies in the chicken pen, who moved in about two weeks ago at the ripe old age of 22 weeks old. They are part of the commitment plan, as they need daily care and attention. 



Finally, solar panels. I've wanted solar power for many years, but have never been able to take that step. Obviously at the old house my lack of commitment to living there wouldn't allow me to make that jump. It's not just the upfront cost but also because you commit to a) being settled in one place for a long time and b) changing your energy usage behaviour, which includes quite close monitoring of the system. A lack of commitment doesn't go hand in hand with having solar panels. 

MIL and I are both here during the day, and we tend to run our household electrical devices then. With solar, we could get quite close to the maximum benefit possible by running all our devices when the panels are generating electricity at the peak times during the day. In addition, there are the Feed-In Tariffs (FITs), which pay a householder with solar panels a small amount of money to generate and export their surplus energy to the grid. It's only about 9-10p a kWh but it is a handy little bit of extra money into the household and is index-linked for 20 years. However, this is coming to an end on 31st March.

I did a few calculations, working out the theoretical return on the money from the panels being drip fed into pensions vs just putting it directly into pensions, and while the panels just nosed ahead they had the added psychological benefit of the satisfaction from producing part of the energy we consume and lowering our bills. How much they lower our bills by is down to us and our consumption habits.

I took a deep breath, did some ringing round and quote gathering and a few days ago we placed an order for a 6kWp system for the south-facing roof of the barns. We're aiming to reduce our electricity bill by 50% through a combination of using what we generate, changing our consumption habits and the FITs. In addition, we decided to have an iBoost fitted to our immersion heater, which is a diverter system that directs a small amount of surplus electricity to our water tank to heat it instead of the boiler firing up. So we estimate that for six months of the year our boiler probably won't be firing at all, which will help lower our annual oil bill. 

So, the solar panels team is coming next week to put the panels up and by next weekend we will be generating some of own power. It's only a small step, but psychologically it feels like the biggest one to date because of the mindset shift that comes with it.

This smallholding is my home and I am committed to it. 

So it's been a bit of a bad 10 days and I decided not to blog. The sheep went to the slaughterhouse on Tuesday, and I was quite emotional about it. Unsurprisingly. I know people say you get used to it but I can't say I ever will. I wasn't a proper snotty wreck at the abattoir like I was with the pigs - I held it together until i got back in the van and then sniveled all the way home. 

I didn't bond as much with the sheep as I did with the pigs though. I kept getting hurt by their horns or headbutted which, when combined with the fact they broke Georgie's leg and were responsible for the deaths of the chickens, helped me retain some semblance of emotional detachment. Not completely though. The smallholding has no animals apart from the cats and it is very quiet and a little bit sad.

Anyway, the sheep will be returned from the slaughterhouse next week so I have to have a mega rearrange of the freezers to make space. Leading on from that job is rendering down the surplus pig fat into lard for soapmaking, which has been frozen down until I was ready for it. The amount in the picture is about a quarter of what is frozen.



This is a particularly stinky job and I have refrained from doing it during the last few months out of respect for my mother-in-law. However, I waved her and Martin off for a short break staying with my brother-in-law this morning so game on! 

It's Le Mans weekend you see, a 24hr endurance race in France that Martin and his brother get together every year to watch on TV. I don't think they have missed a year so far. Not my idea of fun - 24hrs of crisp eating and watching cars go round and round a track. Nope, I usually stay with the cats and enjoy the quiet time, putter, watch box sets, cross a few jobs off the list, etc. 

This year, in no particular order, the list of jobs to be crossed off include:

  • Render and clean all the pig fat into lard using the slow cookers
  • Wash the sheep fleeces in the bath and dry in the sun ready for carding
  • Mow the paddock
  • Spring clean the lobby and paint the skirting and wall around the front door.

Yes, I haven't stopped spring cleaning, which has now gone on so long it has become summer cleaning! We had someone to stay for a few days recently so the living room, landing and stairs were thoroughly deep cleaned as part of the preparations - apologies, I had no time to blog about that I just had to get on and get cleaning as their arrival was unexpected and imminent. Mostly a lot of dust and cobwebs with a bit of suite spot cleaning, curtain hoovering, carpet freshening and relocating objects back to their proper homes. Wasn't too bad and didn't take too long.

So, once the lobby is finished this weekend, all that will be left is the en-suite in our bedroom and I will have completed the spring clean of the whole house. Finally!


Disaster struck yesterday.

I moved the chickens from their main pen into their little day pen in the paddock so they could have a scratch around. Some time in the three hours after that, one of the sheep went nuts and hurt them.

From the state of the bars, it looks like one of the sheep got a horn stuck between the bars of the small pen and dragged it round as it struggled to free itself. The welds are broken and the bars bent. Ginger was killed, broken neck I think, and Nerys injured. I found her huddled up to Ginger's body, in shock with her entire head comb missing down to her scalp. 

I got her in the house, tucked her up in box  and syringed some painkiller and electrolytes into her. Later in the evening, she ate some food and went to sleep but this morning things had taken a turn for the worse. She couldn't stand and had fluid building up in her lungs. Despite being hungry and keen to eat and drink, she steadily got worse until it was clear she was suffering terribly, heaving for every rattly breath. I can only think she had a punctured lung or heart failure, both of which would cause a rapid fluid build up.

We had no choice but to put her down quickly and stop her suffering. 

Nerys and Ginger were the best chickens we've ever had; so friendly, industrious, and productive. 

Worringly, while I was in the paddock retrieving Ginger's body to bury, one of the sheep stormed past me and I realised too late he was charging up to Fleagle, who I hadn't seen had followed me in. It was only because she puffed up and screamed that it pulled up short in surprise,and I had enough time to chase her out, otherwise she would have been trampled like Georgie was. 

Enough is enough. 
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