Tag: farm animals

Silver Saved Hector

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

It has been many days of bad news. I know overwhelming us with bad news is the point, but I feel so down nonetheless. But there are good things too, and I have the best story to tell about Hector.

Last year, we lost Silver, and I was heartbroken because it was partially my fault. She had water belly in a bad way. It had come on quickly, and I kept researching and researching on how to drain her. I was so scared to poke her with that needle and drain her belly. I finally did it, but I was too little too late. Perhaps because I had go buy the equipment and perhaps because I kept watching the same videos and reading the same instructions over and over, we lost Silver.

I as devastated, but a reader and a friend said, “Now you know how to do it, and it will save the next one.”

The next one came pretty quickly. Last May, Hector, who has never had the greatest health, developed water belly. I was still terrified, but I had the equipment, got my son to hold her, and I drained her. I did everything right, I had thought, but the liquid that came out was not a normal, clear color as it should. I looked it up, and it was infection. Everything I read said that the draining would help but that something was seriously wrong with her and that she didn’t have much time.

I kept watching Hector and spoiling her, thinking any moment could be her last, but so far, that moment has never come. I don’t know why. I definitely pulled infected fluid out of her. The ONLY thing I can figure out is that maybe, by some bit of luck, I got enough of the infection out of her that her immune system was able to help her fight off the rest.

Hector continues to be one who is a little slower than the others. I figured out pretty quickly that she did not have the best genetics because she started to develop struggles at a VERY young age. In fact, she will be just three years old this spring. Still, she is still with us and doing well overall. I am thankful because she is the sweetest little thing, and as she has gotten older, she has developed a little bit of sass, which you just have to adore.

The most interesting thing to me is that last week, Hector started laying again! I have no idea how she could be that sick last year and recover enough to be laying again, but I know her eggs. She is a Black Copper Maran and lays a beautiful chocolate egg. Faure lays an egg that is pretty close, but hers are speckled. Hector’s eggs are the only ones that are solid chocolate eggs, so these are definitely her eggs.

The chocolate egg on the left is definitely Hector’s, and the dark egg on the right is Faure’s. I put in two cream-colored eggs for contrast. Aren’t they all beautiful?

It feels a little bit like a miracle. My sweet Silver saved my sweet Hector, and I am learning all the time. I don’t know how much longer Hector has, but she got more time in a place where she is loved and respected. That seems pretty good to me.

You’re a free girl now.

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

I have mentioned that Ruby has been struggling withe her mental health this winter. If you follow Ruby’s story, you know she has a hard time hanging out with the rest of the flock. She’s quirky, a loner, needs her space–all that and more.

It seems funny that she’s so quirky, but I was starting to get really worried about her. With all the snow, she has not been able to run around like she likes and has been stuck in the coop. In the last week, she wasn’t eating well, not even treats, and was so stressed. I was finding her in the coop with her head down in the corner. It’s like she just couldn’t take it all. It was the saddest thing ever.

I had another chicken who was so similar to Ruby. She was Banjo. She had an injury at one point and had to live in the house for about a week where she thrived. She would sit on Ron’s shoulder and watch him while he played video games, but when she got better, though I wanted to keep her in the house, we had three dogs and two cats at the time, and it just seemed impossible to keep Banjo in the house. We put her back in the coop, and she passed away about a year later, just from general health issues, but I always figured her mental state played a big role in her passing.

So, with Ruby, I have been determined to meet her mental health needs, but the house is not the answer for her. She doesn’t like the house. She doesn’t like me that much, I think, though she definitely likes to boss me around. So I have been at a loss as the best way to help Ruby get through the snow lockdown. She has the run, which is shoveled and full of straw, but she didn’t want to come out of the coop at all, yet the coop was making her miserable.

Finally, a couple of days ago, in between work and mom errands, I went to get her, which she complained about mightily, but I put her in the garage for a bit and hand fed her treats. For real, she mostly just sat there and complained at me. I wish I knew exactly what she was trying to say because she talked the whole time I was with her. It was definitely a giant complaint.

After a bit, I would put her back in the coop, and I would put her in a nest box where she could be above any fray (though I have to say that it’s been pretty peaceful in the coop overall). This seemed to help, so I did this the next day as well. Still, I have been anxiously awaiting the warm weather and rain that came yesterday.

I knew it would melt the snow, and it did! It was 55 degrees and rained like 2 inches. The wind was epic, and we lost power. It was worth it.

This morning, when I let the chickens out of the coop, the snow was gone! Lockdown was over!

In Ruby’s life, we have had very warm Decembers here in Maine, so poor Ruby is not used to so much snow so early. This morning, when she saw the snow was gone, I swear, I could see joy in her eyes! She waited in the coop until I came around to the big door to do the food and water, and then she was out and about! She made noises all the way out the door. Truly, I think she was saying to me, “It’s about time!”

I have always thought that there is a Tom Petty song for almost every occasion, and I sang to Ruby, “Hey Ruby! You’re a free girl now.”

She didn’t care for my singing, but she did care for the green grass minus all of her flock mates. I am so happy for her.

I think we have more snow coming next week, but in the meantime, Ruby gets to enjoy freedom for a bit. I don’t think I have ever been so thankful for the rain. I mean, we really, really needed the rain, but Ruby needed it more.

Food System

~ Crystal Sands ~ 2 Comments

Warning: This post includes a brief discussion of processing chickens for food.

This morning, we began processing our last batch of meat chickens for the year. We normally do one batch for our family and one batch for our dogs, but we did three batches this year because our Pyrenees, Bairre, has decided he really only likes to eat chicken for dinner. We can either buy meat from the food system where we know the animals are abused or humanely raise and process the chickens ourselves for our dogs to eat. We choose the latter.

And, when I say “we” process these chickens, I mean mostly Ron. I am just the assistant. Ron humanely culls, cleans most of the feathers, and then cleans the insides. It is my job to then get the chicken looking like one from the grocery store, so, when cooked with vegetables from our garden, our family just sees a beautiful chicken dinner as the end result.

I get the final feathers and hairs, clean the chicken super thoroughly, and process the internal organs for the dogs. We try to avoid waste. After all, a life was given for that food. Waste seems sacrilegious.

Even with my assistant job, I get so worn. I am up and down our stairs a lot, as we keep the chickens in the basement, and I spent a lot of hours leaned over our deep sink. It feels worth it though when I think about the alternative. The “humanely raised” is really important to me, but food safety is becoming more and more an issue.

Recently, it feels more and more important that we choose to live this way.. I have known for a long time that our American food system is in some trouble, but the recent listeria and E. coli outbreaks remind me of how important it is to build our own food system–at least as much as we can. The FDA and the USDA both regulate our food systems here in the United States, but they apparently do not communicate well and are also quite backed up and overworked. On top of these issues, apparently, some states, specifically I read about Texas, have simply quit complying with some required testing from the USDA. This was related to the bird flu, but who knows what else states or companies will decide to not comply with. It’s already quit a bit. Self regulation is not a great plan, at least if experience has taught us anything.

We also have a lot of inexperience and arrogance heading into our government, and in my other life working as an academic administrator who worked with federal agencies to secure grants, inexperience and arrogance are not a great combination when it comes to dealing with the giant bureaucracy that is government.

Yeah, I have some worries. I think we had better start working hard to get our food from a more local system.

I know it’s not possible for everyone who reads this to start raising meat chickens, but it seems important to start trying to remove ourselves from a broken food system in whatever ways we can. Maybe we get chickens for eggs and compost their poop to fertilize our organic vegetable garden. Maybe we connect with local farmers and join a CSA. Maybe we support any local markets that keep their supply chains local. I don’t know how common those are in other states, but we have a lot of them here in Maine. Maybe we work harder to create low-ingredient homes, cutting down on or eliminating processed foods (more on that later).

Pay attention. Wash your food well. Organic carrots were a recent culprit for E. coli. Cook your meats thoroughly. Make sure they reach the proper temps.

I wish I had more answers, but I do think we are on our own more than I feel comfortable with. I’ll always share what I learn to help us get through it all, and I hope you will as well.

photo credit: Anna Jakutajc-Wojtalik, Unsplash

On the Importance of Chickens

~ Crystal Sands ~ 2 Comments

I know I am biased, but I think a good place to start in prepping for the future is with chickens. They are so versatile and not only provide food but also provide fertilizer for a garden. They are also a joy, and that’s going to matter.

Whether you have chickens already or are thinking about chickens, I thought I might share some advice and things I have learned about keeping chickens over the years that might be helpful. I will go into more detail about some of these topics in the coming weeks and months, but I thought a list of ideas this morning might be helpful. Then, others can add to the list, as I am sure there are things I will forget.

This is Petty and her brood from last fall. By greatest luck or some kind of blessing from the chicken gods, every single one of her six babies was a girl. In this picture, we have Annie, Clara, Jacqueline, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Lenore.
  1. I recommend starting with a good coop. If you have to use a cheaper little coop you can buy online, I think that’s a good place to start, but most people I know end up having to make modifications to those, especially if you live in a colder climate. A sturdy coop can make a big difference in the long run. We converted an old shed, and it has been great.
  2. To cut down on predators, I think it’s important to think about placement of your coop. Ours is close to our house, and I am so thankful for this. If you have farm dogs who protect chickens, then this may not be a worry, but I am a big believer in coop placement near your home if you can do it. Yes, there will be noise in the summers, but those egg songs equal good food.
  3. I think it’s more important than ever to get heritage breed chickens. I lucked into a heritage rooster, and his genes have been so good for our flock over the years. I have tried purchasing from local and reputable breeders but have not had good luck in the long-term genetics department. Our sweet Rooster is nine years old now and has had the best genes. We need a similar rooster to add to our flock. Rooster gets to stay, but he just doesn’t make babies too much anymore. We have a rooster, Dvorak, who is also a great boy and will get to live out his life, but he is only about three years old and clearly do not have the best genetics. I will not get babies from him anymore. This spring, I will be purchasing some heritage breed chickens from the most reputable breeders I can find online. I think it’s going to be about tracking down people who specialize in the breeds I want, and I am going to be looking for people who have been breeding these chickens for decades, not just a few years. I have found that people who have been in it for just a few years may be doing good work overall, but they may not know about longevity. I will share what I find out with others.
  4. Get or keep broody hens. If you know someone who has a broody line, ask them for babies or hatching eggs. Even though I curse the way our flock goes broody every summer, there are some perks to this. When we need more chickens, we can get them easily and efficiently. I think it’s a good idea to get an incubator as well, but with some good broody hens, you can have baby chicks without using electricity. Broody hens will also raise ducks for you. I have read that you never want a mama duck to raise a baby chicken because she will accidentally drown the baby chicken, but a mama chicken can raise baby ducks. Ruby and Petty, it turns out, who go broody all summer and will raise babies so well, are worth their weight in gold.
  5. Start saving scraps to feed your chickens. Keep a bowl in your refrigerator and save every little scrap. It will add up and help you cut down on feed costs. Affording feed may be an issue, so making good habits related to scraps right now seems like a good idea to me. Plus, it eliminates food waste.
  6. With the cost of feed in mind, I think it’s important to think about the size of your flock. You want to think about your needs, what you can share, and how much you can feed. Depending upon your area, you may also want to consider bird flu outbreaks. Here in Maine, we had a terrible outbreak two or three years ago, and we got lucky. However, the outbreak reminded us that we do need a smaller flock in case our flock had to be locked down in a covered run to protect them from bird flu.
  7. My final thought for this morning is that you definitely want to learn how to compost your chicken poop. Chicken poop is one of the best fertilizers for your garden because it is complex, but it does have to be composted. A few years ago, I got my husband to make this video to show people how he does it. There are other ways, of course, but this one works very well for us. It is a shame to waste good chicken poop! Just keep in mind, if you grow an organic garden, you are going to want to feed your chickens organic food.

I would love to hear your tips for keeping chickens. What advice do you have for others who are new to chickens or who just want to step up their game?

PS It felt important to add that, while I was writing this post, I was also putting a dinner on. I put potatoes, turnips, carrots, and onions underneath a roast in a large pot to cook on low all day. All of the vegetables came from our homestead. The roast came from a local farm and was expensive because it was humanely raised and grass fed. It cost about $25. That pot of meat and veggies will feed our family for two meals, so that’s $12.50 per day for our family of three to have a really nice dinner each day.

Fall Is Finally Upon Us

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

This is Tuesday, Ruby’s offspring. Like Ruby, she’s the special, only I think she is even smarter than Ruby. Well, maybe it’s hard to say about that, but I will say this: I think Ruby is so high strung that it limits her at times. Tuesday is calm, cool, and smart like Poe was. We have been trying to keep the chickens from hanging out in the driveway because I caught Kate just as she was about to take a step into the road a few weeks ago. Ruby is not thrilled about this, but Tuesday has figured out how to hop onto the top of their covered dust bathing area, jump into the pine tree, and then make her way out front. From there, she charms even Ron out of treats all day long.

This picture was taken the other day after she had been given some extra treats from all three of us and was feeling bold, I guess. I heard a noise at the door and when I went to see what the noise was, I found Tuesday with her best begging face on. With the pumpkin next to her, she totally looked like she was trick or treating, so I went to get both a treat and my phone and got this picture of that beautiful girl. Isn’t she fantastic?

The picture looks like fall to me–Tuesday in her orange and black, pumpkin on the porch–and fall is finally here in our part of Maine. We had a long summer, and we have yet to have our first frost, which is just wild. It was nice getting to eat from the garden for so long, and even tonight, we ate greens and tomatoes fresh from the garden. But there is a chill in the air. You can feel the fall finally coming.

Plus, today, we got just three eggs from the girls. I assume tomorrow will be a little better, but we are definitely well into the molt. The girls are beginning their rest for the winter. I’m going to miss the fresh eggs, but I am glad they get to take a break. Our girls work so hard.

Rooster is having a particularly hard molt. I’m so worried about him, but he seems determined. Yoshi is also molting pretty badly, and Lenore had a tough year for her first year too. Thankfully, she’s all done and looks beautiful. Ruby hasn’t started her molt yet. I’m not looking forward to it. I mean, she’s grumpy on a good day.

Interestingly, Marshmallow is STILL broody. I swear, that hen has probably not laid an egg all year! She was broody all summer, and when I finally got her to let it go at the end of August, she started to molt. She had a solid molt and looks great, but about the time she got all her feathers back, that hen was right back in the nest box being broody again. There is a part of me that just wants to let her have another clutch of chicks; however, I will never forget the summer of 2019.

I let that hen have some babies, and she was like a dinosaur attacking me every time I had to bring the food and water. She was wild. I bled. I had to start wearing oven mitts, and she would then just go for my arms. I swore never again. So she continues to sit, hopeful, and I have to resist any urge to give in. She might live forever this way.

Interestingly, she is Broody Hen’s offspring, who was the sweetest hen in the history of the world. I don’t know what happened to Marshmallow.

Anyway, that’s the update from the chicken yard for today. I just finished teaching way too many classes, but I am now working less for a few weeks. I hope to write more. I hope you’ll leave a comment and write back.

A Mary Jane Update on the Anniversary of Tom Petty’s Death

~ Crystal Sands ~ 3 Comments

I have had three celebrity crushes in my adult life–a scientist (Neil deGrasse Tyson) and two musicians–YoYo Ma and Tom Petty. When I learned that Tom Petty died seven years ago today, I was devastated. His music had been so central in my life, and I adored his back story. He grew up abused and misunderstood and used his creativity and drive to change his life and the lives of so many others. His life and music just spoke to me.

I was already really down that day in 2017 because it was also the day of that terrible mass shooting in Las Vegas, and to top things off, it was meat bird processing day on our homestead. It was just a tough day, so when I asked Ron to please pardon one of the meat bird hens for me to keep and add to our flock, he agreed. He agreed that we needed something good on such a no-good, terrible day. I understood that, as a meat bird, the hen would likely just live a couple of years, but we needed a layer or two, and Freedom Ranger hens are pretty good layers. I would be happy just to have her for a couple of years.

The bird who was pardoned was named Mary Jane, in honor of Tom Petty’s famous song, “Mary Jane’s Last Dance.” Ron said she was the one who outsmarted him all day, so he knew she was a smart bird. We had no idea just how smart she was going to be or how long her dance would be.

I feel certain she must be at some kind of record for a Freedom Ranger meat bird, but Mary Jane turned seven this summer, and she’s still going strong. She is also one of the smartest, if not the smartest, hens I have ever met. Over the years, she and I have formed a powerful bond. She talks to me. She asks me for help when she needs it, and she lets me know when she is just fine by herself. She used to be about the size of a small turkey thanks to those meat bird genes, but in her older age, she is smaller. She’s still larger than our other hens, and she actually talks in a gobble.

Every morning, she waits in the coop for food while the other chickens run out the door for the outside food bowl. Mary Jane is patient and smart and waits for her food bowl. When she sees me coming, she almost always gobbles this cute little gobble talk. I realized this morning, as I was thinking about the anniversary of Tom Petty’s death and Mary Jane’s pardon, that I have to get a recording of her voice. I had another hen who was very vocal and talkative, and I regret that I never got a recording of her talking. I have to record Mary Jane.

The cutest thing is that Mary Jane has a daughter, Petty. Petty is also a fantastic hen and is so smart. She raised a clutch of babies last fall, and she was not just a magnificent mama but probably the most magnificent mama hen I have seen. She did so well. She was chill but loving and so good to her babies. She let me get involved too, so I was thankful to her. When Petty went broody in the late summer this year, I was sad we had decided to downsize our flock and couldn’t let her raise babies.

Interestingly, Petty has a voice similar to Mary Jane’s. Just the other morning, I heard a little gobble run across the yard, but it surprised me because I thought Mary Jane was still in the coop waiting for me. It turns out it was Petty. She doesn’t talk a lot like Mary Jane does, but she has a voice like her mama. How fantastic is that?

So far, both Mary Jane and Petty are doing great. Mary Jane’s health has its ups and downs, but right now, she seems to be in really good health. She quit laying somewhere around age four or five, so she’s retired but helps keep order in the flock. She’s so old for a meat bird that I have thought on more than one occasion that she was surely near her end, but that hen always pulls through. I know she has a heart condition, but it seems her will to live is stronger than her heart condition. I guess a better way to put it is that her heart is stronger than her heart condition.

She has not yet molted for the fall, so I definitely worry about that for her. The molt is hard on birds. Rooster is molting right now, and he’s so tired that I am having to help him off the top roost some mornings. He is also a very old bird.

But the winter before last, I thought surely he and Mary Jane would not make it through another winter. They showed me. I have learned to never underestimate Mary Jane, and though I always open the coop in the mornings with a little bit of worry that today might be the day that Mary Jane passes, so far, she’s always there, greeting me. Usually, she gives me her little gobble.

Every year on this day, October 2, I spend a little time thinking about how much Tom Petty meant to me, and then I turn my thoughts to Mary Jane and think about how much she continues to mean to me.

Starting Over with a Little Sparkle

~ Crystal Sands ~ 1 Comment

“It just seems wrong to pull up the strawberry plants,” I said to Ron.

“Sometimes, you just have to start over,” he said.

Strawberry plants only produce strawberries for three to five years. Our beds of Sparkle strawberries managed to make it five years, though the berries were definitely smaller this year. We probably should have pulled them last year, but it seems so wrong to pull plants (just thinning in the garden breaks my heart). Still, this year, there was no avoiding it.

I read that you can plant new strawberries in the late summer and early fall and get strawberries the next spring. In the past, we have planted in the spring and would have to go a season without berries, as you have to pull the flowers and give the plants time to get established before you let them make berries. I hope this fall-planting plan works because going a year without strawberries just feels impossible to me at this point. I mean, just look at this picture of our berries from 2022. How can I go a year without this?

It was a sad thing to do though–ripping out the plants. Because we just let the weeds go after strawberry season, when we were clearing out the beds last week, there were also about a million weeds. And, within those weeds and strawberry plants, a whole world of wildlife was living. There were worms and spiders and so many magnificent frogs. As we stripped each bed of its habitat, I felt most worried about the frogs. I met five frogs in total that day, and as each one hopped away, Ron distracted the ducks. One time, I saw what ducks will do to a frog, and I never want to see that again.

When I looked at the empty beds, there was a great deal of sadness, but I really wanted more strawberries next summer, I tried to think about the good things that would be coming from starting over.

I had a hard time finding strawberry plants so late in the summer. I could find some but not the kind I wanted–Sparkle.

When I found out the places in Maine and Vermont where we had bought plants in previous years didn’t have Sparkle, I figured I would have to settle for a different variety of berries, but as I read about all the other varieties available, none of them seemed as good as the Sparkle variety. Sparkle strawberries are sturdy for Maine but are also known for fantastic flavor and shape. How could I settle for anything less when I’ve already had Sparkle?

Thankfully, I found Sparkle berries at an Etsy shop. After we cleared the beds, Ron replenished the soil with compost, and then I spent the next two days planting. The plants were beautiful, and only a few looked a little “iffy” in terms of making it. The kind seller sent extra plants, and I managed to squeeze in every last one, even the few that looked a little rough. I hoped for the best.

I am happy to report that every single one of those plants seems to be making it, and we are getting to start over with 127 beautiful Sparkle strawberry plants!

The starting over with the strawberries feels so symbolic to me right now. After a summer of long COVID, our whole family is making progress. Our crashes are rarer and less intense. We are able to get more things done and enjoy life more, and that’s just the best. I haven’t had to crawl up the stairs in over a month, and I haven’t slurred my words in at least two weeks. And my son is gradually returning to his cello, and my heart is joyful.

Interestingly, his teacher is teaching him the Hadyn Cello Concerto No. 1, and I swear, it’s so joyful–and sparkly. It has been so uplifting listening to him work through the first part of that concerto every evening.

And with all of this hopefulness in the air, I have good news to share. I am planning to bring back Farmer-ish journal next year. In fact, in the coming weeks, the website is going to either go down or look very wonky, as I work to update the site. Hopefully, taking the lessons I have learned and starting over will lead to a little sparkle there too.

In the meantime, I’m watching those strawberry plants and listening to Haydn on the cello every day because, sometimes, you just gotta start over.

The Tough Days

~ Crystal Sands ~ 4 Comments

I have never buried a chicken before. Ron has always saved me that sadness. I have delivered to the woods a chicken who passed in order to feed the wildlife, but when we have a hen who passes in the summers when we have little chickens running around, to be safe, we bury her on the property. 

Last week, I dug my first hole and buried our sweet Silver. It was heartbreaking. 

On the same day Silver passed away, we found out our son has long COVID, and I am pretty sure Ron and I are having own own struggles with something along those lines. Ron has been so busy working in slow motion (at least slow motion for him, he’s still faster than I am) planting the garden that I realized it was going to be up to me to bury Silver. 

The last time I wrote, I mentioned that Silver was very sick. She had a terribly sour crop and a terrible water belly, and it had come on pretty fast. It had been a long time since we had water belly troubles, so I decided, if Silver made it through the first night, I would try to drain her water belly to buy her more time. 

This level of veterinary care is not my strong suit, which is why I had never done it before, but I felt I had to try to learn in order to get Silver more time. She was such a great hen. I spent the day watching video after video and asking for help from more experienced farmer friends. That afternoon, I went and bought the materials, and that evening, my son and I completed the procedure on Silver. 

It was a success, but I did not have much hope. Silver was in pretty bad shape. I think I waited too long. I think, if I had known what to do and done it earlier in that day, she might have had a chance. My anxiety and over-thinking delayed me, and I hate myself for that. 

It was hard day burying that poor baby. Ron had to come help me after I started hitting rocks and root, but I dug for a long time, so slowly because, right now, I am in a “down” time from COVID and do pretty much everything in slow motion. When I was putting the dirt back over her, I just broke down. 

I read a long time ago that the backyard chicken movement in the United States wasn’t exactly great for the welfare of chickens because a lot of people who don’t know what they’re doing keep chickens. I wondered about my own inability to help Silver, and my mind went back to that article I read. 

As I sat crying over Silver, I had the urge to just stop, to quit keeping chickens. Maybe I am too sensitive for this. Maybe I need more veterinary skill, as there are not many vets who will see a chicken, and vet bills are so outrageous now that corporations have bought up vet offices that most people can’t afford to take a chicken to the vet anyway. 

I remembered the last time I truly felt like giving up on chicken keeping. It was the day of our first hawk attack, and we lost Lucy’s twin to the hawk. Pumpkin had been raising babies at the time, and I could find neither Pumpkin or her babies. After searching for at least half an hour, I remember dropping to my knees and swearing I was done with keeping chickens, that my heart was too soft for this job, but then, by some miracle, we found Pumpkin’s babies frozen and hiding in a pile of leaves. It was an extra miracle that we had not stepped on them as we had been back and forth through the area many times. And then Pumpkin returned as well. 

I kept going. I decided to keep going after Silver too. I had new knowledge, another skill, and I would do better for the next one, I thought. 

After I finished burying her, I found a flat stone, wrote her name and dates with a paint pen, and drew little chicken feet on the stone, so, if we sell our property, the next people will know who Silver was. Silver is buried in the same area that Schubert is buried. Schubert was Silver’s mother. 

There have been many tough days of late for our family, it seems. I didn’t fully understand how serious long COVID is, but finding out that our son has it and reading more about what this means for him has been a blow. I have written about my son before. He’s a cellist, and he’s good. Right now, he can hardly play more than half an hour without being in pain and/or then collapsing in exhaustion afterwards. The Chronic Fatigue Syndrome is real, but that’s only part of it. His lungs are still struggling, and brain damage is almost always likely with long COVID. The COVID literally shrinks the brain. I can seem some cognitive struggles. I feel some of them in myself, and they are scary. What a mean, mean thing to do to such a young boy. 

It has been nearly three months since our son had COVID, and the struggle is still so serious. After he “went down,” as I call it, from exhaustion again this weekend, we made the difficult decision to pull him out of all his music activities for the whole summer.

I think we all feel a little bit lost in the world right now. We had been downsizing our farm in anticipation of travel to Boston for his music in the upcoming year. Now, we don’t know what to do but be shocked and worried. On top of this, our son was just getting to the point where he was a help to us on our homestead. He could mow and turn over soil, and he was the best wood chopper. Now, we’ve lost him for some time. What a devastating thing all the way around.

But, today, as I write this, it is a beautiful day. My son is resting, and Ron decided to rest today since it is Father’s Day. The sun is warm, but the breeze is cool. The shadows are long from the trees, and the chickens are enjoying a few more gorgeous days before the heat dome comes. I am going to close my eyes and hope the universe will tell me what to do, help me heal our son because wester medicine really doesn’t know a lot about this. I am going to try to rest too. 

And, tomorrow, I will go to the store and get watermelon for the chickens and ducks because some serious heat is coming. I hope Mary Jane and Rooster can make it. I don’t want any more tough days right now.

Mary Jane, Raspberries, and Trying to Be a Good Human

~ Crystal Sands ~ 1 Comment

I haven’t written in a bit because it’s on right now for spring planting and preparation. I will have to write more about this soon, but Ron has had some health struggles related to his round with COVID. Tests are ongoing, and I am hopeful all will be well; however, he’s been moving slower than before, which means he needs more help to get the epic tasks of spring completed.

Last week, my task was to prune all the fruit trees and bushes. Pruning the blueberries is easy. Pruning the raspberries is tough because, as you know, raspberry bushes are prickly and mean. I have learned to wear a thick coat and thick gloves, but they still attack my hair. Sometimes, I just end up stuck. During harvest in June and July, I always wish for more raspberry bushes, but when I am pruning, I am thankful we have just about a 25-foot row. The whole process is normally very frustrating to me, but it wasn’t too bad this year because I had good company.

Mary Jane loves raspberries more than I can express. She has two favorite foods that I have discovered–raspberries and oatmeal with raisins. Come to think of it, maybe it’s just raisins, but raspberries are her joy every summer.

She is doing pretty well despite her very old age and meat bird DNA. If she makes it to age 7, which happens in just three weeks, I’m convinced she has to be close to a record for a Freedom Ranger meat bird. I mean, she’s definitely showing her age, and I think surely she won’t make it through a long, hot summer. However, we switched feed to some awesome organic feed I found from Vermont, and it seems to have given her an extra little boost. It’s really good food, and Mary Jane has a really strong will to live, which, if you follow this blog, you know so well. It seems like a hopeful combination. Mary Jane will turn 7 on June 1.

Anyway, I was down on the ground fighting through the prickly branches to get to the back side of our row of when I saw Mary Jane watching me so hopefully.

“Oh, baby, I have no raspberries yet,” I told her. “But I’m doing this, so you can have some soon.”

And it was exactly that thought that made me feel less grumpy about all of the raspberry bush attacks on my hair. Seeing that hopeful face reminded me that there is joy coming. There is some pain now. My hair was pulled about a million times, and I was sweating like crazy on the hot day wearing my coat and gloves, and oh my gosh my poor back–but the reward is coming. Mary Jane reminded me of that, and she made me think about my place in the world.

This was my view from underneath the raspberries. That’s Mary Jane on the left and Arwen on the right. Mary Jane stayed with me the entire time I worked, more than two hours.

Last week, I also had the chance to see a beautiful symphony performed by the Bangor Symphony Orchestra. The symphony, entitled This Will Be Our Reply, was composed by the conductor of the BSO, Lucas Richman. The piece was powerful and important. Before the performance, Richman offered some background on the piece and said he was inspired to write it by a speech Leonard Bernstein gave after the assassination of John F. Kennedy. In his speech, Bernstein said that the response to violence had to be to “make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before.”

In the symphony, the inner circle of musicians, which is the first row of violins, violas, and cellos, play this beautiful music and come back to it throughout the piece, all the while, you hear the outer symphony doing something else, including bombs and guns going off from the percussion. When the bombs and guns got louder, the inner circle played even harder. It was an important work–a reminder that, though humans can be so terrible, we can also be so very beautiful. We just need the artists to remind us.

I was so moved by the experience that I was still thinking about it that day in the raspberry bushes. I was thinking about how I sometimes feel so inadequate. I have such a big heart for art and beauty and making the world better yet have no idea how to do it and really no talent for doing so.

But, as I talked to Mary Jane, I thought maybe that’s okay. I’m never going to make beautiful art that will be remembered throughout the ages, but I am going to raise beautiful raspberries. These raspberries are not only beautiful, but they are also healthy and contain cancer-fighting chemicals that, as of yet, humans cannot fully replicate. They are magic, for lack of a better word. I am going to give those raspberries to my family and some of my friends–and to Mary Jane.

To Mary Jane, I think I might just be the best of humans and a good friend to have around.

And that has to be worth something–maybe an awful lot.

Ruby & Tuesday

~ Crystal Sands ~ 1 Comment

If you have followed my blog any at all over the past couple of years, you will know all about Ruby, but just in case you are new, Ruby is a highly-intelligent, high-maintenance chicken. She has no friends because she is not a people person at all. People in the flock do not like her, and she gets picked on sometimes. Mainly, I have seen that this is because Ruby doesn’t seem to want friends. She does nothing to fit in. She’s a lone wolf, a free spirit, and she demands her independence.

She is also demanding of me. To me, she is bossy, difficult, and will peck the heck out of me when I am trying to collect eggs. It doesn’t even have to be when I am getting eggs from under her (she sleeps in a private nest box because she won’t be near people on the roost). She will give me a hard peck for good measure just for being close to her. She keeps me in line, and I don’t mind doing her bidding because she’s so smart, so funny, and so unique.

This is Tuesday on the left and Ruby on the right. Look at how similar their combs are, and they both have that super smart look about them.

When Petty went broody late last summer and we decided to let her raise a clutch of fall babies, I debated about getting an egg from Ruby. The chicken would surely be smart, but would it be just too quirky or weird to fit in? How high maintenance would it be? My curiosity got the better of me, and I let Petty hatch a Ruby egg. The result has been magnificent–the result is Tuesday.

Tuesday was raised by the calmest, most patient mom in the world. Petty was so trusting, so nurturing, and the most chill little mama I have ever seen. This has been so good for all of her babies. All six turned out to be hens; they are all great hens, but I believe Tuesday is the greatest. It’s like she has all of Ruby’s fantastic characteristics–smart, independent, unique–without all of the negatives. Tuesday is not neurotic at all. She’s just different, and she’s at peace with herself about it.

Tuesday, like Ruby, spends most of her day away from the flock. She flies over the gate and hangs out in the front driveway area with Ruby. I do not worry about her wandering off, as she is too smart. She stays close, dodges any mail deliveries, and I set up a dog crate for her to lay eggs in. Pretty much every single day, I find a little cream-colored egg in the dog crate–a gift from Tuesday.

But the most interesting thing she does is that she is friends with Ruby! About a month ago, I noticed Ruby was hanging out a lot with a black chicken. They were under the trees, scratching around together for many hours one day when I decided to see which black chicken it was because, for a time, all three of Petty’s black chickens were hanging out in the front yard. When I got closer, I could see it was Tuesday. I guess the only person who could “get” Ruby would be someone related to Ruby.

When I told Ron about it, he said, “I guess we just had a grow a friend for Ruby,” and I guess that is right. Mother and daughter hang out a lot every day, and I just love to see it. I am thankful Ruby has a friend in this world. She’s still neurotic, but it’s maybe a little less than usual right now.

And Tuesday is just a dream. She’s so calm and smart and beautiful. She reminds me so very much of Poe. Ron spent yesterday working out front, and he said Tuesday followed him around just watching what he was doing all day (he was repairing an old wheelbarrow). Ron said she just studied him for hours.

What a gift from the universe! I am looking forward to getting to know Tuesday more, and since we letting nature take its course and naturally downsizing our flock, I am excited that Tuesday will be able to get extra attention and study. I think she’s a pretty magnificent bird. I’ll keep you posted!