Tag: farm life

Strawberry Thieves

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

I spent this morning picking strawberries in the sunshine listening to Van Morrison coming from the house. The berries have been more generous than they have been for years, and I am grateful. The turkeys are also grateful. We had to put up a tall fence around the strawberry beds to keep the turkeys out, but when I pick, I share. Every strawberry that has been bitten by one of our strawberry thieves goes straight to the turkeys. This is quite a lot, as the Cedar Waxwings who have discovered the strawberry beds have been quite busy. I think we are losing about 10 to 15 percent to those birds right now, but I’m okay with those numbers because the little thieves are beautiful creatures–plus our turkeys get the leftovers, which they love.

Everybody loves strawberries, and I love bonding with those turkeys over our shared love of strawberries. This summer, I have bonded deeply with the turkeys, and I hope to be able to write about Maggie and Athena as turkey mothers because I have learned so much from watching how they parent. Domesticated turkeys are considered bad parents, but they are not at all. It’s just different, more wild perhaps and less conducive to the infrastructure we built for chickens and ducks. They have their own ways, and they want to have their own ways, and if you are wise and want to keep turkeys, you do what you can to give them their own ways as much as you can. But you can’t go too far. You need boundaries. Turkeys will demand the moon of you if you let them. We had to learn the hard way that the turkeys couldn’t get on the deck where we sit for morning tea and coffee. Last year, we let them share the deck, and they were like gremlins. They wrecked the placed!

So I was outside picking my favorite berries, listening to music, sharing berries out of my hand with the turkeys, and feeling so thankful to have had the experience. It has been a busy week, and my health has been struggling to hold up against my long COVID symptoms. I needed a slow, beautiful morning. It was restorative.

And then I thought about why I was there. This morning, it was because of the Cedar Waxwings. I had other plans for this morning, but those beautiful little strawberry thieves changed my plans. I had to pick the berries before those birds ate too many.

We have had a bumper crop of strawberries this year. I have been picking and picking, and struggling a little bit eat, process, or give away all of them. When the harvest starts, it starts, and it can be a challenge to keep up with it.

On the jam front, I have been trying so hard to make strawberry jam without pectin. So we have a wide variety of jam-like substances that vary between strawberry syrup and jam that is just a tad too thin. It’s been a challenge, but all of my failures are delicious in different ways. Still, to make sure I had gifts for friends and family, I made one batch with pectin and may try to make one more. I have to say that the jam without pectin is far more delicious than with the pectin, even though the pectin jam is very, very, very good. There’s something different about making it in a jam pot without pectin though, and I really like the difference. If I get it figured out, I will let you know. Plus, we have eaten bowls and bowls full of fresh berries.

With this kind of abundance, it only makes sense to share with the Cedar Waxwings, even though I know they are the guilty party in terms of eating most of our blueberries and elderberries the last couple of years. But how can I deny those little stinkers some of the berries? I mean, it’s their nature, after all. They are literally wearing little bandit masks.

I am so curious about all birds that I looked up to see why Cedar Waxwings have little bandit masks. I wanted to know what the evolutionary benefit is for those little masks around their eyes. It surely isn’t just because they are thieves. I mean, that’s just too much irony.

It turns out there at two hypotheses about why Cedar Waxwings have those little masks. I don’t know which one is most reputable, but I have my own thoughts. One hypothesis is that the little masks help with sunlight in their eyes, but the other one has to do with the social nature of these birds. The hypothesis is that the little black masks help emphasize facial features which helps with communication between flock members.

It also turns out that these birds are highly social. One of the coolest things I learned is that they steal berries and share among flock members. I read that it’s pretty rare in birds and in the animal world in general to see food passing in a species. These birds are essentially little Robin Hoods. How fantastic is that?

Of course, fantastic as they, there is a limit to my willingness to share with them, I suppose. Since the strawberry beds have been discovered, things will escalate in the next day or two. One time I read to tie balloons over the bed and to draw angry eyes on the balloons. It did help a little, so I’ll be drawing angry eyes on balloons in the morning.

In the meantime, I am enjoying this restful day I had today. I hope, wherever you are, you get some strawberries this summer.

Sending love from Maine.

photo credit: New Public Library

Happy Solstice!

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

Friends, I have been busy. I have been in turkey school.

I feel like I could write a book about what I’ve learned from having baby turkeys running around our here, but the two most powerful lessons are as follows: 1. About 15% of turkey babies hatch with a neurological disorder that, if you carry them around and feed them for about seven days, they will grow out of it. That’s definitely a story worth telling, but in summary, I have been busy carrying a turkey around and performing the duties of my life pretty much with one hand. Thankfully, said baby turkey is doing great and has been recently returned to its mama and sibling. 2. Turkey mamas are quite fantastic, just different from chickens, even though there is a lot bad press for turkey mamas.

I still have much to learn, but I am making great progress in my efforts to understand turkeys, and I have decided they are worth all the work, which is a lot. I am kind of in awe of them.

In other good news, maybe the best news, last week, I started seeing a lot of Eastern Phoebes around. They are always around, but suddenly, they were really close to the house. Then, this weekend, Ron said he found nest under the eave of the turkey house. I was so hopeful as I ran outside in my bare feet to check the nest. It was empty, but sure enough, it was an Eastern Phoebe nest.

I have been bene wishing with all my heart that Eastern Phoebes would come back to the nest on our deck, but every time I see them hanging out, either Bairre or Boudica accidentally scares them away. The Phoebes are all around us in the trees. I see the birds around every summer, but to get a nest right where I can see the whole process is a little bit of heaven to me. I will keep my distance, but last night, I went to check to see if the mama had started sitting on her second round of babies for the summer. I couldn’t tell at first, so I went to get my phone. The zoom on the camera allowed me to see in the nest without getting too close, and there she was! I am pretty sure I was jumping up and down with joy.

It has been a lovely Solstice for us. My son was hired to play his cello at a Solstice celebration at a local church, and it was beautiful. Then, when I got home, I picked strawberries from our beds and tried an old fashioned recipe for strawberry jam without pectin. It was a slow and lovely process. The jam is different but delicious, and I am hoping to make more.

I am also hoping you had a beautiful Solstice as well. Happy Solstice, dear friends!

A Rough Day 1

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

Today is Day 2, and it was a good day. Yesterday, however, Day 1, was the roughest Day 1 ever.

I did a thing. For my birthday, I finally ordered some heritage Rhode Island Red hatching eggs. I have looked for about two years for some heritage Rhode Island Red baby chicks or hatching eggs. It took me so long that, when I finally found some reputable breeders, I couldn’t find anyone willing to ship eggs instead of chicks, and I was too afraid, given the state of the post office, to take a chance on live chicks. I had just about given up until I found a little farm in Minnesota that specializes in heritage breed chickens.

The eggs were about $10 an egg with shipping, but that was a pretty good deal I thought considering a heritage Rhode Island baby chick can cost between $30 and $40. Plus, I wouldn’t have to worry about a baby dying during shipping. Plus, I have a really good incubator and have learned its nuances. The last broiler hatch I did, I hatched 39 of 41 eggs. That’s an amazing hatch rate! So, if I didn’t have a broody hen handy when the eggs arrived, I would have great chances with my incubator.

The lowest amount I could order was a dozen, which is a fancy birthday present for sure, but I told myself that I would probably never find this perfect deal again. I placed the order.

Shortly after I placed the order, I received a text confirming my order and explaining the process. The woman who texted me was very matter of fact at first, but when I wrote back and told her how much I loved Rhode Island Reds, it was like we were old friends. We texted back and forth a long time–both of us sharing stories of love for Rhode Island Reds.

On Wednesday, just a few days after my birthday, the eggs arrived. I had big plans. I have so many broody hens right now. We can’t handle 10 or 12 more chickens, so I thought I would just put 7 or 8 eggs under one of my broody hens and throw away the rest. But then the woman told me her hatching rate hasn’t been great and that she was sending me extra eggs.

With the low hatching rate in mind, it would be pretty risky to just put just 7 or 8 eggs under my broody hen. And I only have space for one broody hen right now because we have a turkey mama in one crate, a hen on turkey eggs in another crate, and we only have the three. Dog crates are so valuable.

Thursday night, I decided to try 9 eggs under a little Ameraucana hen who has been broody forever. She seemed to accept the eggs that night, but when I woke up yesterday and went to check on her, she was banging her head on the crate door. The eggs were spread around everywhere, but none were broken. Still, I thought this was not a good Day 1. I wanted to treasure every day of this 21-day process. These eggs are full of so much hope for me. Still, I had no idea what was in store for me just a few minutes later.

I decided to let my broody hen out of the crate and try another hen. The coop is full of broody hens right now, but I was a little disappointed because that little Ameraucana (her name is Priscilla) is one of my favorites. Then, I went to check on our mama turkey, Maggie. She has had a tough go being a mama, and I will try to tell her full story in a few days.

For now, I’ll tell you that she hatched four babies, but one just barely made it out of the egg and died within a few hours. Still, three babies seemed pretty good, and the babies were very difficult. Three seemed like more than enough to handle for Maggie and for me and Ron. This is our first time trying to hatch eggs with a mama turkey. The learning curve has been steep.

It was steeper than I could have imagined.

I thought Maggie was acting strangely yesterday morning. I opened her crate, set out fresh food and water, and she didn’t come out. I went to let out the chickens and started to have a really bad feeling. I had terrible trouble sleeping the night before. I felt unsettled. As I looked across the yard and saw Maggie still in the crate, the bad feeling grew stronger.

I ran to the crate and started looking for babies. There were only two. Two babies.

I searched in the straw and then searched all around outside for a little body because it had been so cold that night, but there was nothing. The baby was just gone, and Maggie wasn’t letting the two she had left out of the crate. It was all maddening and so confusing.

I thought we would never know for sure what happened, but my guess was that the baby chick wandered into the nearby woodpile and got lost in there. Later that day, I saw one of Maggie’s two remaining babies find a spot we missed after Ron and I spent the morning both searching the wood pile and then covering the wood pile to prevent any further loss. Maggie got hysterical when her baby tried to go into the wood pile, so I knew. I made sure I covered the remaining hole.

That kind of devastating loss is terrible for my long COVID. As I sat on the ground, worn from a morning of crying and searching, I could feel my body head toward a crash, so I tried to calm myself down.

“This is life on the farm,” Ron said. “We’re all learning. Maggie. Us.”

I knew he was right. I just had to pick myself up and do everything I could to make sure Maggie didn’t lose another baby and maybe try to find another broody hen for my Rhode Island Red eggs.

We have one of our Salmon Faverolle hens sitting on some turkey eggs right now (another long story), and she went right to it–no questions asked. So I thought I would try another Salmon Faverolle who has been broody about a week. I put her in the crate with the eggs, and she was having none of it. Sometimes, it can take them a bit, so I left her in there for a couple of hours. She said nope.

So I let her out and wondered who was next on the roster.

I had two hens left, and both of them were just barely broody for maybe just a few days. I decided to go with our little Welsummer because Welsummers are the second best chickens in the world. Plus, she is a bigger girl and could probably handle at least 10 eggs. Also, her name is Lilibeth.

I put her in the crate with the eggs, and she was not happy. I decided to give her at least an hour, but when I came back to check on her, she was sitting at the back of the crate with the eggs in the middle, acting like she didn’t want to touch them. I started to wonder if maybe the eggs looked or smelled funny. I have NEVER had broody hens reject eggs like this. Never.

I decided get an egg from the coop and sit it in the middle of the eggs to make it feel like these were our eggs. I grabbed a green one and sat in the pile. Then, Ron took me to our favorite greenhouse to buy some flowers to help cheer me up after the rough morning with Maggie’s baby.

“If that hen is still rejecting those eggs when we get home, I’m going to let her out and just use the incubator,” I said to Ron. “I guess I’ll just have to raise those babies myself.” It’s always better if a mama hen can raise babies, but I was beginning to think I wasn’t going to have a mama hen for this job.

We were gone a good bit. The owners of the greenhouse are our friends. They are from Ireland, and I could just sit and listen to them talk all day. When we got home with our flowers, I went straight to the crate. Lilibeth was still in the back of the crate, and all the eggs were gone except for the green one! It was sitting there all alone.

Then, I realized what happened. Lilibeth had rolled every single one of those eggs, except for the green one, across the dog crate and put them under her where she wanted them.

It was a rough Day 1, but in the end, there was hope.

Today, Day 2, was much easier. Maggie’s two babies are doing great, and Lilibeth is set hard on those Rhode Island Red eggs.

Schrodinger’s Strawberries

~ Crystal Sands ~ 3 Comments

I find myself pacing sometimes and thinking about the strawberry beds.

We haven’t uncovered them yet. It feels like it is so very much time to do so today, as it was 67 degrees, but we have a freeze coming in a few days. Ron says we will uncover them the day after. In the meantime, I have way too much anxiety over the strawberries.

Last year, after a fall planting the year before, the strawberries didn’t make it through the winter. Ron thinks he may have covered them too soon. I was devastated. Strawberries are one of my reasons for living. I am so scared he’s leaving them covered too long, but that freeze…

I know it seems dramatic, but last summer without strawberries was a heartbreak. You simply cannot find organic u-pick strawberries within an hour of where we live in Maine, and even the ones that are a couple of hours away are few and far between. We found an amazing farm outside of Belfast that had organic berries, but there was literally a line of people waiting for them to open on the few days they had berries available. We managed to get enough berries to make one small batch of strawberry jam, which I shared with people I love and then had one jar for myself. I told Ron if we wanted a farm product that might actually make some money, organic strawberries would be the way to go, but right now, I just want our three beds of berries to live and keep us supplied.

Since I finally managed to figure out sourdough bread, I have been longing for strawberry jam. To me, sourdough toast desperately needs strawberry jam. Thankfully, I found a lovely strawberry jam made in Maine from Stonewall Kitchen. It’s delicious but, of course, it’s not organic, which I prefer, especially for strawberries, because strawberries are notorious for hanging onto pesticide residue–it’s all those seeds.

So I am hopeful but scared about our strawberries this year–and doing a lot of pacing and thinking. I cannot go another year without strawberries. I have been so down about the world. I know you probably have been too, so we gotta have the little things like our strawberries.

I am afraid to go look because, if I go look and the plants are dead, well, I don’t know what I’m going to do. So, right now, the strawberries may be alive. Please cross your fingers for me. I’ll keep you posted!

And what do you have that keeps you going right now, that brings you a bit of joy?

A chicken in the house and other stuff…

~ Crystal Sands ~ 2 Comments

Last fall, we ordered some chickens from a hatchery, which is against a rule I made a few years ago, but Ron insisted I needed some babies to cheer me up. They are the sweetest little chickens I think I have ever seen, but one of them came a little runty and sick. She seemed to hang in there okay though until recently. She got into the sick chicken pose and was sleeping in the corner of coop, so I brought her into the house. Her name is Bernice, and she has made herself quite at home.

She walks around the house, pooping periodically, so I have to go behind her and clean pretty regularly. It’s fortunate the cats sleep throughout the day, as they probably wouldn’t be kind to Bernice–at least I am pretty sure Betty would not be. Bella would be curious, but Betty might be too curious.

I am not sure Bernice is going to get better. I have been able to treat some of her symptoms, but I think there is something deeply wrong. Ron keeps thinking she’s getting better, but I am not as hopeful. I am just resigned to the fact that she seems to be enjoying herself and likes the wood stove and maybe is going to get to spend the last weeks of her life getting pampered. I hope I am wrong about her.

I don’t know if you remember Luna, our runner duck. A little over three years ago, when Bairre was a puppy, he ran over Luna and broke her leg. Luna had to live in the house for months, and I fell in love with her extra. She loved to pretend fly (since she couldn’t walk, I would carry her around and she would flap her wings like she flew where she wanted to go), and when she was resting, she would sit in her bin and watch television with me while I graded papers.

She’s eight years old now and seems to be winding down. I saw her sitting outside alone yesterday and the day before. I have checked her everywhere, and I can’t see anything wrong. I was hoping she had bumble foot, but she doesn’t. I think she’s just getting really old. I was so down about Luna last night (that plus the apocalypse, I think) that I think it triggered another long COVID episode, which is both miserable and frustrating. I’m having a really slow day–hence the time to write.

But it’s not all bad news around here. There are good things, of course.

I finally figured out how to make sourdough bread! It has been a journey, and it took me about ten loaves to figure out how to do it well with my limited equipment. It was worth it! It’s so good and so beautiful, and I am more than a little proud of myself. I will have to write about it more soon.

And the new hens started to really lay this month, and the eggs are beautiful. We have two little Cuckoo Marans, and they lay the most magnificent chocolate eggs. Also, one of them, Genevieve, still lets me pick her up and give her a hug. I adore her. The turkeys also started laying eggs, and the eggs are gorgeous. I am a huge fan of speckled eggs, so I am just so proud of these turkeys and their art.

Oh, and my son, the cellist, won the state high school concerto competition a few weeks ago. I was so happy for him. Interestingly, however, I found myself not only extremely empathetic to him but to the other kids as well. I sat in the front, so I could get a good video of my son for an audition for a radio program. Because I was so close, I could feel all of that energy–like too much. I was especially panicked for the kids who were playing from memory. As I have mentioned, my son also has long COVID, and it causes some memory issues. This makes me just have a kind of terror when he has to play from memory. Somehow, that terror applies to other people’s children as well.

There was one little boy playing who seemed to get a little lost for a second. My whole body tensed up as I did everything in my witchy power to will him to remember his spot. He remembered and pulled it together and kept playing. I was so relieved. I don’t know if I helped him or not, but for real, I was spending some energy on it.

Needless to say, for about three days after the concerto competition, I could barely get off the couch, but I was still so darn happy for my son and so darn happy all the kids played so well.

I hope you are all doing as well during these hard times. Sending love to you all, and I hope to see some of you Sunday morning when I’ll be talking about gardening.

Hope for Humanity in the Chicken Forums

~ Crystal Sands ~ 1 Comment

I have been studying the chicken forums on Facebook since we first got chickens more than ten years ago. I have found that social media is one of the ways I learn about humanity, and so, in the chicken forums all these years, I have not only learned about caring for chickens but I have also learned about the humans who keep chickens.

I learned pretty early on that, just like anywhere on the internet, there is a lot of misinformation circulating in the chicken forums. In the beginning, when I was seeking advice about various animal husbandry questions related to my chickens, I sometimes got some really bad advice. But it didn’t take long for me to learn who to trust in the groups and who to ignore. One of the things I learned is that being loud isn’t the same as being right.

Over time, I became experienced and would sometimes try to help others the way I had been helped. It’s hard to do online, but I would do my best, and overall, I was always thankful for the kind of people I found in the chicken forums, especially when I decided to narrow my presence to just chicken forums based on Maine. These forums were practical, helpful, and connected me to local resources. As much as I hate Facebook, I love the Maine chicken forums.

There was always a “edge” that would appear in these Maine forums though. Just like the rest of the internet, people can be mean in the chicken forums, and sometimes, when people ask for help, they get reprimanded instead.

But I am noticing a shift…

Just last week, I saw the shift illustrated beautifully.

A woman made a post about needing help covering the costs of chicken feed. She said she had been struggling financially and couldn’t cover the cost of feed for her chickens that week. In the past, this kind of post would have been met with some help but mostly reprimand.

And there was some of that. A few people said the thing I would often see before “If you can’t afford animals, you shouldn’t have them.” However, mostly, there was help. When I first saw the post, four people had offered to meet to give the woman some chicken feed. At that point, I didn’t know how far away the people were, so I posted that I couldn’t deliver food but could Venmo her the funds for a bag of feed and for her to send me a private message.

I checked back later that night, and the post had blown up–with offers of help!

Dozens and dozens of people were offering funds and feed, and I saw a post from the author that said she had already been delivered a bag of feed and was so thankful for the support and help. I think this shift in the chicken forums is significant, and the things I read lifted my hopes and spirits in a way I cannot describe but was desperately needed.

I think we are learning that we are going to have to help each other, that hardships are upon us but that, through community, we survive. I read a quote that really resonated with me not too long ago: Civilizations fall but villages live. I think we are beginning to understand we need a village and that we have to be kind to each other.

I love Maine with every fiber of my being. I could not live anywhere else in the U.S. The people of Maine are my people, but there can be a kind of grumpiness to the practicality here. I saw a few comments in that thread that were of that nature. I have learned that Mainers are truly trying to be helpful though, not usually mean. One woman said something along the lines of, “Times are just going to get harder. If you can’t afford your chickens now, you might need to re-home them.”

Of course, this comment was likely hurtful to the original poster, but I could see the earnestness there. Times really are likely to get harder. Ron and I think often about how we would afford food for our animals if I were to lose my job, and with AI being what it is and doubling in ability every six or seven months, I can see that it might happen to me one day sooner than I thought possible. I can see that it might be hard for many people to keep affording the feed for their animals, but chickens are critical for survival in hard times. They are how my great grandparents survived the Great Depression. People are going to need their chickens.

And, as I was thinking about the earnest advice about how times are going to get harder, I thought about what happened in the chicken forums that day. Times are already hard, but there are people there to help–lots of people.

And, what if, when times get harder, we just keep helping each other?

photo credit: Robert Katzki, Unsplash

A Ruby Update and a Dream

~ Crystal Sands ~ 2 Comments

Last week, I had a dream that one of our chickens died. In my dream, I went out to the coop in the morning, and there, on the floor of the coop, was one of our girls passed away. I couldn’t tell who it was, but I could see it was one of our girls from our Easter Egger line, which made me very sad.

I woke up heartbroken. I lay there in the dark thinking about how sad I was going to be if I went out to the coop in the morning and one of our Easter Eggers had passed. We have two lines of Easter Eggers in our flock–one line from Schumann and Schubert and another line from Poe. Those three chickens were some of the most magnificent I have ever known, and their children and grandchildren, mixed with Rooster’s genes, are brilliant, difficult sometimes, but so full of personality. If you follow my blog, you will know them–Kate, Juliet, Bianca, Cora, Bertha, Lenore, and, of course, Ruby.

I have been slow to move in the mornings for all of January, I think, but that morning, I was up as soon as the alarm went off. When I opened up the coop, I was so thankful to see that no one had passed over night, but there, in the exact spot where I had seen the dead chicken in my dream was Ruby.

It just came all over me that I needed to bring her in and give her a health check. This is never fun because Ruby does not like to be handled. She is an independent bird for sure. But after I put the food and water in the coop, I scooped her up and brought her into the house.

She complained as I turned her every which way to check things. She knows how to bite with a pinch, which not all of them know to do. Ruby definitely hates health checks. Even though I know she has the same reproductive issue Poe had, she was not thin, which was wonderful, but when I flipped her upside down, I could see an issue–Ruby had mites.

Ruby has always been prone to mites, but I haven’t checked her since before the holidays. I gave her a treatment and will give her the second treatment tomorrow night. She is doing great, and I noticed yesterday that she’s moved up a bit on the roost. She must be feeling better.

I assume it was a rat that gave her mites. I think we are maybe down to just one rat in the coop. I really need to tell the great rat story of 2025, but it is a long one. In the meantime, I will just share that this one rat I keep seeing is giant and smart. It has figured out every single thing we try to do.

Just a couple of weeks ago, I was in the coop in the evening gathering up the food and water for the night when I heard a bustling from the top roost. I looked up just in time to see a rat on the roost with the chickens. I screamed, and it dropped. I was in between it and the door, and I don’t know who was more terrified.

I have no idea what we are going to do about that rat. but I am thankful for my dream. Ruby needed treatment, and I need to do better about checking everyone for mites. I can’t let the depression of things keep me from taking good care of those animals. My dream was definitely a wake up call.

A Mouse Love Story Part II

~ Crystal Sands ~ 8 Comments

I haven’t been able to write because everything is so bad in the world. Some of it is my anxiety (it’s hard for me to write when I am this anxious about things), but one reason is that it seems like a waste of time to tell people stories about chickens, ducks, turkeys, mice, green beans, and such when the world is falling apart. I feel instead, I should be writing exclusively about how to resist systems by growing your own food, repairing what you have instead of buying new, and creating local economic networks.

But I have ultimately decided that maybe telling stories about chickens, turkeys, and mice might be a necessary mental break for more than just myself. I hope I figure out a way to use Farmer-ish to help educate about self sufficiency and community, but maybe the stories are important too, just in a different kind of way.

This is Jeremiah. He’s all eyes and ears.

With that in mind, I have another mouse love story to share.

A little before Halloween, we lost Cynthia, Jeremiah’s true love. I was heartbroken, as was Jeremiah. He wouldn’t eat and just sat in the corner and slept most of the day for several days. The only good part of the ordeal was that Cynthia, thankfully, seemed to pass without suffering after the recovery she had made last time. I knew that we were going to have to get Jeremiah a new friend.

We decided to go on Halloween to Petco and find our next girl. I thought all fancy mice were white, but to my surprise, there were a few little female fancy mice this day that were brown or spotted brown and white. They looked like tiny little teddy bears, and I was super excited to get one of these girls.

We picked the one that seemed curious about us, and I told my son and his girlfriend to keep an eye on our girl while I went to get a worker to get her out of the cage. While the worker fished her out of the cage, we explained why we were getting her. We told him about Jeremiah, our rescued white footed deer mouse and how we had just lost Cynthia at 16 months. We told him how this mouse was going to live in a cage but would be spoiled with everything from fresh blueberries from the farm to organic popcorn and would get to live out her life.

That young man was so happy.

“They’re usually for food,” he said.

“I know it,” I replied. “This one is getting a reprieve.”

Since it was Halloween, we decided to name her Samhain (pronounced sow-in) after the Celtic end-of-harvest celebration on October 31.

When we took her in her little box to the check out, the young man who had been helping up followed us up to tell the ladies working at the front that this one was going to be a pet and not food. They were so happy.

“We never get to see one that isn’t for food,” the lady checking us out said.

“Do you want to see her? She’s so cute?” the young man offered to the ladies up front.

My cautious self was against this. I thought, if my little mouse escapes into this store and I lose her, I am going to be pretty mad. Thankfully, she did not escape, and the ladies oohed and ahhed over her. We were all joyous–the Petco workers, my son and his girlfriend, and myself. It was like we all needed a little joy.

And it was awesome to share that joy with people working in the store.

It was definitely less joyful getting her introduced to Jeremiah. I forgot the rule that they have to be introduced on neutral territory, and Jeremiah attacked little Samhain.

But I got her right out, kept her in a separate cage for a few days, and then followed the proper procedure of introducing them on neutral territory in a large box. It worked, and Samhain was able to move in with Jeremiah.

This is little Samhain, and I’m telling you pictures do not do her justice.

It was not like it was with Cynthia. I think, no I know, Jeremiah was still sad and missing Cynthia. He seemed to understand he was stuck with this mouse, but he took her food away from her for the whole first day and ignored her when she tried to play with him. Samhain would cry, and I am sure my giant human ears could only hear part of it.

I worried that Jeremiah would never fully accept Samhain; thankfully, he did.

A few days later, I saw that Samhain was giving Jeremiah a bath on his ears and head just like little Cynthia used to do, and Jeremiah seemed not to mind. He also quit taking her food. Every now and then, he still tries, but Samhain just takes it right back. Just like Cynthia, Samhain rally loves freshly popped popcorn and will not stand for that being taken from her.

It’s different though. Samhain has so much more energy than Cynthia, even when Cynthia was younger. Cynthia was just a chill personality. Samhain is not. She is all over the cage, all over the toys, all over the bridges. She is also bouncing off Jeremiah at times, and I can see on his face that he is not a fan.

But I can also see it’s better than being alone. They snuggle up to sleep and put their little arms around each other.

Ron said Jeremiah, who may live long enough to see three or four fancy mouse friends, is like the Highlander. Highlander has eternal life but has to experience the heartbreak of losing his loves over and over again. It’s interesting to think that, with Jeremiah, this tiny little creature I fed with a paintbrush before he could open his eyes, I share the grief of losing Cynthia.

We both mourn her and miss her, but we are both thankful for little Samhain. She has been bringing joy from the moment I met her, and every day, when I feed her and Jeremiah, she gets so excited and now lets me pet her more than a little bit, not as much as Jeremiah, but quite a bit. Mostly, I just sit and watch her and smile, and for a little bit, I forget how scary the world is.

Sending love.

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My Holiday Week in Pictures

~ Crystal Sands ~ 3 Comments

I hope you are having a restful holiday season. It has been quite the year for all of us, but here we are, figuring it out somehow, aren’t we?

It has been terribly, terribly cold here. We lost one of our young chickens, one of our two roosters, so that was a blow. I think it was mostly just unlucky genetics, but truly, it has been unusually cold unusually early here. I don’t think we have seen a December this cold since we started homesteading, so when we got baby chickens in August, we thought they would be plenty big before the bad cold hit. Of course, we thought wrong, and the cold has been hard on our little ones. They are fully feathered, but still.

The cold is hard on the young ones and the old ones. We mostly have the young ones and the old ones now, so Ron has been running the ceramic heater in the coop on the worst nights. I know you are not supposed to heat your coop, but we try to make careful exceptions to the rule.

On the bright side, it has been amazing for making ice lanterns, and I have made several. I have been using candle light both inside and outside to keep me in good spirits, and it has worked. I decided to take a lesson from the Nordic folk and just lean into the candlelight this year. It has been so helpful that I want to see if there is any science behind it.

I hope you are staying warm and cozy. It’s -1 here right now in our part of Maine, so I am doing my best. I hope you are doing your best wherever you are. I hope these photos make you smile. They are presented in random order with some random thoughts. I would love to see some of your holiday photos or at least hear some of your stories. Please share as well if you can!

I’ll start with Boudica. Here, she is asking me to come out to play in the snow, and I am telling her there is no way I am going out in that cold. I am telling her to come in the house and sit on the couch with me. She eventually came inside and slept next to me on the couch. She has been doing that a lot lately. Her tiredness worries me, but I am trying to treasure our snuggle time. She will be 10 this coming year.
I found out this year that I have a Jewish ancestor on my mom’s side, and I have always been so fascinated with Judaism and have studied a bit over the years. This year, I decided to try to learn how to celebrate Hanukkah officially, and my dear friend brought a menorah for me. I learned after this photo that you aren’t supposed to put all the candles in at once and that you burn the candles all the way down each night. I have much to learn, but this year, we celebrated Hanukkah, Yule, and Christmas, and it felt right to me. It seemed important to have all that focus on the light.
I was worried we were not going to have a Christmas tree this year. It was just a few days before Christmas, and I hoped a little tree from our property. It seems wrong to just cut down a tree for my own enjoyment, so I told Ron my idea of taking a tree from a patch of trees because they won’t all make it when they are too close. This tree has zero on the backside, but this side was perfect. I love her! We could not find a single tree stand for a live tree here in our part of Maine, so Ron bought a small bucket, filled it with rocks and water, and it worked! I was grateful.
The only perk I can see to this hard cold we have had this December is that I get to make ice lanterns. Aren’t they magnificent? If you live where it is cold you can make them too. I created directions for making them in the Winter Solstice issue of the journal.
I spent a good bit of this week making gifts for friends. This is one of the tiny Solstice cakes I made to share with others.
The tiny cake was inspired by this big cake. I make one every year and use the same snowmen candle holders every year.
I did my best at making a witch bowl candle, and it’s pretty good. However, I have much to learn. Hopefully, I will have them perfected by next year. They include oranges I dried plus cinnamon sticks, star anise, and whole cloves.
I also make these light balls made from Christmas lights and Solo cups. I gave this one to a dear friend to brighten her spirits. These balls of light are just lovely. I had hoped to make a bunch for our yard but rest took priority. Hopefully, next year, I can make more!
I made cranberry and popcorn strings for the turkeys on Christmas Eve. They loved them but not as much as they love Craisins (that’s a whole other story). The chickens LOVED theirs though, and that made my heart happy. The baby chickens were like, oh, we like popcorn!
This is my favorite stocking and favorite candle, so I felt they deserved a picture. Ron calls this candle my Ebenezer Scrooge candle. : )
It seemed proper to close my photos with one of Bairre on the couch on Christmas. He’s so happy when he’s on the pillows. Happy winter holidays, no matter what you celebrate, from all of us and Bairre. I hope you get some good rest like Bairre. He’s an expert at taking it easy.

First Snow

~ Crystal Sands ~ 1 Comment

Today was the first big snow for our turkeys and new chickens. The new chickens are still babies in spirit, even though some of them are about the same size as our smaller hens. They have grown up quickly, but they are a long way, every single one of them, from having a place in the flock that is anything other than the bottom.

I think a lot of people do not understand how important the social order is to chickens. They are so much like humans in this way. Because the young chickens are so far at the bottom of the pecking order, if they stay in the coop with the grumpy old hens, they will be bossed around and randomly pecked on the head from time to time all day long.

So, even in the cold and snow, they head outside.

I made sure I shoveled a good area near the covered dust bath, and as soon as I opened the door this morning for the flock to come outside, the little chickens made a beeline–at least most of them. A few of them were not happy with the snow on the ground, even though I had shoveled–and then swept with a broom–to do my best to get the snow clear.

(As an aside, as I type the words that I shoveled and then swept the ground with a broom to try to give my chickens dry earth, I realize that, tired as I am, I am willing to go a long way to give those chickens a good day).

One of the little Cuckoo Maran hens started her bee line and then suddenly froze. She realized she was in the snow, and then became paralyzed. She didn’t want to go forward or backwards. I watched her and realized I would have to carry her to her people, so I did. She normally makes a scene because she doesn’t like to be held. She got tired of it because I held her quite a bit as a baby. I have found over the years that the best way to have a hen let me hold her when she’s grown is to hold her a lot as a baby. Unfortunately for me, some of them still hate being held, no matter how hard I try. It’s a personality thing, but, of course, I try until they make it clear to me that they don’t want it. Then, I try to respect their wishes.

Ruby, for example, makes a full-on scene, scream and hollers and acts like I am killing her, when I have had to help her out of situations and hold her. The only exception was that time I found her stuck under the ramp of the coop. I still have no idea how she managed that, but she did let me help her out of that jam without making a scene that morning. Clara, on the other hand, always lets me hold her. She is a Lavender Orpington, and they are very sweet, chill birds. I can pick Clara up pretty much any time, and she goes right along with it. Interestingly, Clara is one of the few older hens who will hang out with the little ones. I wonder what that says about her.

Anyway, I took the little Cuckoo Maran (her name is Genevieve) to her fellow little people, and she was satisfied.

It is supposed to get down to -2 degrees Fahrenheit in the next few days, which is a bit of a rough temperature for early December around here. We are going to have to put loads of straw in the coop starting tomorrow.

The turkeys were very interesting with the snow. At first, they had a lot of hesitation. Well, I don’t think “hesitation” does justice to what they were. Turkeys feel everything so deeply, so they were really quite sad and seemed to be upset at us that this had happened. They moped quite a bit. I mean, you could literally see them moping about, so mistreated by us who allowed the snow to fall on the earth that they own because, rest assured, they own everything around here.

They eventually adjusted, however. We shoveled a path for them, but soon they were just out and about making their own paths. I think we got about 4 inches of snow, so the turkeys were able to walk through it–and they did. They were certainly more subdued today than usual, but mostly, they just went around as usual, barking at the FedEx delivery driver in fine form.

I got a little video of them this morning as I was wrapping up my part of the morning chores. I hope it makes you smile. I hate my voice, but this video made my heart so happy that I have to share it. https://youtube.com/shorts/bgjTrMPzcrE?si=RGyQMNGCmQqaodV9