Tag: homesteading

Maple Syrup and the Good Life

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

I have much to report. We are on Day 7 with the Rhode Island Red eggs, and all seems well. Maggie’s two babies are getting big, and Maggie seems to be figuring out motherhood. Our little Salmon Faverolle, Prudence, has been sitting on seven turkey eggs. I candled them this week, and six are very well developed. They are due on the 29th. Please cross your fingers for Prudence and her turkey babies. We also found another of our turkeys, our fierce girl, Athena, was hiding 24 turkey eggs and sitting on them. It was Ron’s job to collect the turkey eggs, but he is fired now. I let Athena keep thirteen eggs that seemed to be similarly developed. I have broody mamas everywhere, I am their assistant. We are trying to raise a round of turkeys for food instead of pets. I am scared we are going to be in trouble, but we will see.

In addition to being a broody hen assistant, I told Ron last week that I am a hunter-gatherer of sorts. I am getting pretty good at finding local farms for things we cannot grow or raise or make ourselves, but after I hunt everything down, I have to connect with each farmer and then find times that work to meet. They are all so kind, and I appreciate that they all love what they do so much because I know the work is hard.

I often have great talks with the honey people, the beef people, and so on because they all care for their animals so deeply and care about providing good food to people.

But, today, I had my first long talk with the maple syrup people, and it was a treat!

This farm is super local. It’s in the same small town we live in, and they specialize in blueberries and maple syrup. Today, Ron made pancakes for breakfast, and we had so little maple syrup that we had to ration it. This is unacceptable.

I grew up in the south, and Ron grew up in the west. Neither of us had ever had maple syrup until we moved to Maine. I don’t know how I ever lived without it.

And I don’t want maple syrup from the store. I want it from someone in Maine who makes their living making maple syrup. It will be cheaper, better, and I believe 100 percent in supporting local agriculture. I don’t believe the global food system is going to hold up super well in the coming years. I want local to thrive as much as possible.

I went to the website to see if the farm store with the maple syrup was open today. They were not. They said they were busy getting ready for blueberry season but would take appointments. I texted the number, asked if the woman could meet me this afternoon. Thankfully, she could.

I met her right at 2:00 PM, and I went straight to the biggest jugs of syrup. I got three.

“You mean business about maple syrup,” she said.

I laughed. I hate taking up a farmer’s time unless they want to chat. I know they are incredibly busy this time of year. I am so thankful when they will make time to meet with me.

“Yeah, we love your maple syrup, ” I said. “We needed to stock up.”

Then, I told her about Ron’s waffles because they are the best waffles in the history of the world. They are so good we are planning to make them for friends and neighbors this summer.

“We figured out how to make sourdough waffles, and they are amazing,” I said, feeling the need to explain myself but also wanting to express my gratitude for sharing their good work with the community.

“Oh, do you make Belgian waffles?” she asked.

“Oh yeah,” I replied. “You gotta have the deep pockets for your delicious syrup.”

After that, it was on. She was telling me how you are supposed to eat waffles, and I was agreeing wholeheartedly. When it comes to maple syrup, she and I are on the same page.

As we were talking about how much we both liked maple syrup, she said some people like “just a little drizzle” on their pancakes or waffles, “but not me.”

“I have to make it so my waffle or pancake is so full of syrup it’s like a sponge.” I nodded in agreement. That’s how it has to be.

“But that’s not enough,” she continued. “I need some extra on the side to dip the sponge in.’

We were both laughing, and I was in full agreement. That’s exactly how I want to eat waffles and maple syrup.

We talked a bit more while she helped me get the syrup to my car.

“Really, pancakes and waffles are there just to give us a reason to eat maple syrup,” I said in conclusion, and she laughed and agreed.

As I was getting into my car to leave, she said something that really struck me.

“We’re living the good life, aren’t we?”

I paused and thought about that all the way home. Indeed, we are.

I am thankful.

photo credit: Nadine Primeau, Unsplash

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.

Growing a Grocery Store Garden

~ Crystal Sands ~ 5 Comments

There are so many reasons to grow a garden to help replace your trips to the grocery store—more delicious food, cost savings, self-sufficiency, and the joy of growing food to feed yourself and your family. However, I argue that right now may be one of the most important times in most of our lives to plan and start a garden. 

If you live in the north like we do, now is the time to get your seeds and start your seedlings. If you live in the south, you have such a long growing season that there is still time to get started, even if your friends and neighbors got started a month or so ago. 

You may have been hearing about the consequences of the war in Iran and what it means for the price and supply of oil and gas, but there is another important resource that flows through the now mostly closed Strait of Hormuz—fertilizer. 

Apparently, right now about 25 percent of the fertilizer the United States would normally have for spring planting for our agricultural system is stuck in the Strait of Hormuz. Many experts are pointing out that this lack of fertilizer, coupled with high gasoline prices, is going to create a perfect storm for really high food prices and potential food shortages this fall. 

So, yeah, let’s plant some gardens this spring!

Of course, when planning and planting your garden, you will want to think about some foods you can grow that you can use to replace some of your trips to the grocery store. We have been growing a grocery store garden for more than a decade, and we have learned some important lessons along the way about how to grow as much food as possible as efficiently as possible.

1. You can grow a good amount of food in small spaces, but you are going to need as much space as you can manage to really grow so food. If you have a yard, dig up part of it now or add raised beds asap. You do not need grass, but you might need potatoes and carrots. The first part of your planning involves figuring out what space you have, how to grow vertical in small spaces, how much sunlight you can get in your space, and how you will get water to your plants. Soil is also a factor, but we were able to grow some basic foods even before our soil was in good shape.

This is a great resource on vertical planting on a budget that should be super helpful. 

2. The next thing you want to think about is what you and your family will eat combined with what will grow well in the space you have. You will want to think about things like potatoes, carrots, green beans—sturdy foods that grow easily. If your family will eat things like potatoes, plant them. They grow well and can grow in everything from your yard to trash cans to straw bales.  

3. You will also want to think about foods that are easy to preserve. Because it looks like the fall and winter might be the toughest times for grocery prices, you want to make sure your garden is able to feed you long after growing season is over. Potatoes can store for a long time in a dark bag in a cold room in your basement if you leave the dirt on them. Carrots can also last for a couple months in the refrigerator if you leave the dirt on them. Green beans can be frozen if you do not know how to pressure can. There are also winter squashes that can store well into the winter if you and your family enjoy them. They can be baked, made into soups, etc. 

4. Unless you already have planted berries or fruit trees, you will not have time to grow fruits before this fall, but there is a good chance that you live near apple orchards where you can pick your own apples. A lot of orchards will also have u-pick pears, peaches, berries, and cherries, and if you shop around, you can find farms that offer really good deals if you are able to pick in a lot. You do not need a pressure canner to can fruits—just canning jars and a big pot will do. 

You can also save some varieties of apples and pears for months in cold, dark rooms (basements are perfect) just wrapped in newspapers. 

5. In addition to the sturdy things that will store long term, I highly recommend greens and tomatoes. With the summers getting so long here in Maine, we were able to keep spinach and tomatoes going well into the fall last year. Plus, if you feel ambitious, the tomatoes can become sauce with some onions and peppers added. We live on this spaghetti sauce from our garden all year. 

If you are just getting started with growing your own food or just want to chat about strategies for processing and storing food, I am going to be hosting a Zoom session on Sunday morning, March 29, at 11:00 AM ET. I’ll talk a bit about what we do to prepare a lot of food for the year. You don’t have to register. Just use the link and show up. As long as one or two people are there, we’ll hang out and talk about how to grow more of your food. 

https://us06web.zoom.us/j/86869843531?pwd=P9NcJQDsI5WrqPvwbZnpvHFDfbO4x6.1

photo credit: Anna Zagrebichna, 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

The Turkey (and Happy Thanksgiving)

~ Crystal Sands ~ 1 Comment

More than ten years ago, I had just gotten chickens and had fallen madly in love with them. My son, just five years old at the time, was taking his first ever theater class for little kids. Everyone was guaranteed a part, and my son was a puppy in a production of Disney’s 101 Dalmatians.

One day, when we arrived at practice, I saw a Subaru in the parking lot with a personalized license plate–CHKNLADY. I have to meet that woman, I thought to myself. That evening, while sitting in the parent waiting room, I overheard a woman talking about her chickens and turkeys, so I had to ask if she was CHKNLADY. She was!

She was wonderful, and we had a lovely conversation about chickens that evening. She warned me though.

“Don’t ever get turkeys,” she said.

I asked her why, and she explained, “Let me put it this way. We got eight turkeys to raise for food. We planned to keep four for ourselves and then share the others with friends and family for the Thanksgiving holiday. We had no turkey at Thanksgiving, and instead, we have now eight turkeys that play soccer with my kids.”

Ten years later, I remembered that story but thought I was a hardened homesteader that had lost some of my sentimentality about raising animals for food. After all, I helped process many meat chickens and had come to accept it as a better way to eat meat. I thought we could be different than the CHKNLADY.

Our plan was to keep a small flock of one tom, four or five hens, and then raise turkeys for food, processing the toms as needed to feed our family and our Great Pyrenees. I have been paying about $125 every Thanksgiving for an organic, humanely-raised turkey. I thought we could surely do this ourselves.

What I have come to learn about turkeys has changed my life. Just as chickens changed my life when I got them more than ten years ago, the turkeys have had a profound impact on me. Not all of it is good because they can be exhausting. In comparison with chickens, they are difficult birds, but oh my gosh, they are magnificent! They hook you in, and you will do their bidding. Ron is their servant, and I am their assistant servant.

Since today is Thanksgiving, and our turkey named Thanksgiving is running around the yard, I thought I would write about what I have learned from these amazing creatures. I hope it doesn’t ruin your Thanksgiving. I am not against eating turkey. In fact, our hope is to hatch a few birds next year and work hard to ensure they do not imprint on us and then have a turkey next Thanksgiving.

Still, after getting to know these birds, I am definitely against the cheap birds in the grocery store because I know what kind of life they lived. If you can bear it today, please read what I have learned and make a plan to buy a humanely-raised turkey next year if you can. It will not be cheap, but if you can do it, it will be worth it.

Turkeys are majestic animals. There is a reason that Benjamin Franklin wrote they were “noble” and a “bird of courage” and a “true original native” of America.

And here are some things I have learned about them this year…

1. Turkeys imprint deeply.

It is difficult to care for baby turkeys. When they first hatch, if they do not have a mother, you have to teach them how to eat and drink–over and over. With baby chickens, you show them one time, and they are all set. It took me two to three days of constant feeding to get them where they could eat on their own. During that time, we bonded, and those babies imprinted on me. The bond just grew over the weeks because they demanded a lot of attention.

After about a month, I could no longer handle eight demanding little turkeys by myself, so Ron stepped in. They bonded so deeply with him too. These turkeys are difficult (see more thoughts below), but they love us, think we hung the moon, and are so sweet to us. This deep bond makes other aspects of raising turkeys more challenging, but I am in awe of the biology of it. It is a reminder of the bonds humans share with animals.

One way I know the bond is deep is that I can break up fights between the boys. I can get right down in the middle of these giant birds, little dinosaurs, just throwing down because the toms will seriously fight, and they will not hurt me. You can see they will be so angry at each other, but mama is sacred. No one hurts mama. This is the same for Ron. They love us so much.

*As an aside, we had three males and now have two. We had one male who was starting the trouble most frequently, and it was a devastating decision to make, but he left us no choice. Ron processed him last week, and the fighting has stopped. I will have to tell that story later. Maybe. It’s a hard one.

2. Turkeys are extremely social.

The turkeys do not just love us. They also have a love-hate relationship with each other. I think it’s more love, but they are very much like toddlers right now at just about eight months old. They have to be together though. If one of them gets separated, they will cry and cry until we go help them find their people. And they miss us terribly if we have to be away from the house during the day.

When we get home, they run up to us and click and chirp and the boys strut and show off. I tell the boys, “Oh, you are such a pretty boy,” and they immediately start putting on a show. They have done this since they were just tiny little babies strutting around in miniature.

3. Turkeys are extremely, extremely vocal but also communicate with color.

I’ll start with the vocal. I have never seen such vocal creatures. They talk constantly! And they have so many different ways of speaking. They are quick to let you know they are unhappy via their cries, but they click constantly to keep in contact with each other and have coos for talking sweet and a kind of curious coo when they see something in the sky, sometimes things I cannot see. And, of course, they gobble. The gobble is usually some kind of “out of sorts” expression. The first time they got in trouble from me was for picking on the ducks. I ran outside and grumped at all of them, and they just gobbled and gobbled about it.

But they also bark, like a dog that is a turkey. When someone comes to our house, they bark. If it’s someone they don’t know and that someone comes into our driveway, there will be braking plus gobbling. If the delivery people have to tell me something, I cannot hear a word they are saying. We have to stand in the driveway and yell over the turkeys. I always apologize.

The cutest thing is that they bark at the fence when people walk by, just like our Pyrenees. I do not know if this is usual or if this is behavior our turkeys learned from the dogs, but when someone is out on our country road for a walk, they will now not only be barked out by two Great Pyrenees, but a small flock of turkeys will bark and gobble at them. It’s so cute to see two dogs and then a row of turkeys lined up at the fence griping at our poor neighbors, who seem bemused but it all.

Interestingly, turkeys also communicate with the color of their heads. They change their head colors with their moods, much like octopuses, I suppose. They have three head colors–red, white, and blue–but there are a variety of shades in between that give you insights into what is going on in their little minds–and there is so much going on. The red means upset or excited, and the blues and whites are calmer. When we pet them, they turn blue and white. When they get dried cranberries in the mornings (they LOVE these), their heads are a combination of blue and red.

I am fascinated by all of it.

4. Turkeys are highly emotional creatures.

I had always heard and people continue to tell me that turkeys are mean. I can’t exactly disagree with this, but I also can’t agree with it either.

A few weeks ago, I was talking to our new doctor, who grew up on a farm, about our turkeys. He said he didn’t like turkeys because they are mean. I tilted my head and asked, “Are they though?” It was a question for myself as well because I can’t decide. The doctor looked at me with a look that said, “Yes, they are!”

I thought about that all day and evening, and the next morning, I saw the female turkeys chasing our blind duck, Anna Maria, doing their best to peck her on the head.

“Well, I guess they are mean,” I thought to myself.

I also thought back to the way the boys would sometimes gang up on Boudica and be mean to her. She is so deeply trained to care for the livestock that she just takes their abuse, but it breaks my heart.

However, in both of these cases, the turkeys have reasons for being “mean,” at least according to them. They are the most emotional creatures I have ever seen. They wear it all just right there for the world to see. There is no wall, no filter. If they feel something, they express it with vigor, like way too much vigor.

In Anna Maria’s case, I have seen her accidentally bump into the turkeys, as she is blind, and this offends the turkeys. I think it has taken them a bit to figure out she’s not meaning to confront them. And, in Boudica’s case, I think they get tired of her barking. In fact, Ron has said he’s certain of this.

I still side with Anna Maria and Boudica every time because, in my opinion, the turkeys are unreasonable, but I can see they don’t really mean to be. They are just really deep feelers who live honestly in their emotions.

I remember the first time I saw this in action. The turkeys were pretty young, just a couple months old, and I saw several of them sitting in a line on top of the duck house. I was just sitting out there chatting with them, when one of the boys pecked one of the girls on the head. The one he pecked is maybe the most intelligent of the five girls we have, and her face reveals a lot. I saw a look in her eye after she got pecked on the head, and I knew there was going to be trouble.

She was deeply offended and quite pissed. She tore into that boy like I couldn’t believe. She had his snood stretched out a mile. I went over to break it up and just couldn’t. I finally got the boy out of harm’s way, and that girl started attacking everyone else. She was not letting this go.

So I ended up having to pick her up and carry her around for about ten minutes. I could see she had calmed down, so I sat her down and hoped for the best. I am not kidding. She made a line for that boy and started attacking him again! It took me forever to calm her down, and I began to learn that turkeys are highly emotional creatures. They love big, and they fight big. And they are easily offended.

5. Turkeys are amazingly intelligent.

I think part of the reason turkeys are so easily offended is that they are highly intelligent. I have learned from the chickens and ducks and the most intelligent among them are almost always the most difficult to manage on a farm because they have opinions, and sometimes, those opinions are strong, and sometimes, those opinions differ from mine.

These animals are profoundly intelligent. They learn things quickly. They have amazing spatial awareness and understand either our language or tone of voice very, very well. When they get reprimanded, which is never more than us telling them “no” they can’t do something they want to do, such as eat from the bird feeders or be mean to the ducks, they cry and act sad and try to make up, especially to Ron. They desperately want to be in his good graces.

The best way I can describe these turkeys is that they are very similar to three year olds. They are smart enough to be terrors, are extremely self-centered, but are also so brilliant they are charming and interesting and really just absolutely fascinating creatures.

***

Truly, I feel like that just a fraction of what I could write about these amazing animals, who, somehow, are ugly in a way but, at the same time, breathtakingly beautiful. Maybe it’s their contradictions, so human like, that make me love them so.

One day, I will try to write more. I feel like I could write a 20 page essay on them, but who would want to read that? I hope this Thanksgiving ramble on the turkey was just right length. I hope you found it interesting and learned some things about turkeys.

And I hope you had a happy Thanksgiving.