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Home of Michael Perry – Author, Humorist, Singer/Songwriter, Amateur Pig Farmer

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Posts Tagged ‘COOP’

Did Not Fly the Coop

The wind is still freight-training, so I’m not sayin’ we’re in the clear, but I did wake up three times last night to peer out of the window to see if the chicken coop (which is mounted on the running gear from an old haywagon) was still upright, and it was, and is now in the daylight.  I was worried, because when I was in there at dusk, she was just a-rockin’.  It was parked broadside to the wind and the rain had left the ground too soupy to move it.  So, as the blurry rain-whipped cellphone photo below demonstrates, I took measures…

That’s a ground anchor, a boomer, and the chain from my deer-skinner.

Chickens in Literature

At some point during the Coop hardcover tour in 2009, I picked up the Library of America’s Flannery O’Connor: Collected Works and have been working my way through it off and on since (I know I read it at least once during my stop in Portland, Oregon, based on a restaurant receipt stuck between the pages).

One section of the book contains O’Connor’s correspondence, including the following lines from consecutive letters, both written on September 30, 1955:

My greatest exertion and pleasure these last years has been throwing the garbage to the chickens…

I can still throw garbage to the chickens, so life is still beautiful…

I believe I understand.

Chickens into Chicken

Loaded up the “meats” and took them to the processor yesterday.  “Processor” as in a woman in rural Wisconsin with a team of local folks in a small shed.  48 chickens in one end and out the other in a matter of minutes, slick as a whistle.  If the Big Decline ever dictates that we do the butchering on our own, can do and have done, but for now I rather prefer the local micro-economy.  I was back home by 1:30 p.m. and we had everything chopped, bagged/sealed, and in the freezer in time to put the tots to bed.

The three-year-old was my copilot for the drive.  We had a fine time, yukking it up, holding hands, and snacking on the goodies Mom packed.  One false alarm potty-break, but Dad used the opportunity to check the tarps.  Every good trucker always checks the tarps.

Chickens smaller this year…dressed out between 3.5 and 5.5 pounds, but they were real nice, and we only lost two (one right out of the box and one at about three weeks).  Last year we had bigger chickens (some up to 8 pounds) but higher mortality, and frankly, although it’s nice to brag up your giant chickens, apart from one or two big family get-togethers per year, the more petite birds have their advantages.

Kinda depends when you get them and how much you want to put in them, I guess.  There are formulas.  We just fit them in as the calendar allows.  We fed them chick starter at first, then switched them to hog feed (cheaper than chicken feed).  They also ate a fair amount of expired bakery bread and every other day I moved them to a fresh patch of green oats and kale (it was supposed to be just kale, but I planted the kale after harvesting the oats and we got a lot of volunteers).  They love that kale, and they also will strip the green oats down pretty good, given two days to do it.

Anneliese threw a couple of backs in the roaster pan when we started, so we taste-tested around 7 p.m., and that’s good chicken.

When She Was a Baby

Unexpectedly heard “Brotherhood of Man” by Innocence Mission today and – as always – it broke me up with its beauty and its ties to the day I held our newborn daughter on my lap (Coop, page 181).

Chicken Zen

In Coop, I wrote:

Every time I stack firewood, there is this moment at the finish when I step back and survey the neat row, and a yoga-like calm fills me.

I find myself doing the same thing every time I move the chickens.  Earlier this week I moved them from a scratched-up, denuded patch to a patch filled with wheat and clover.  It was a bigger move than usual and it took me over an hour to get everything repositioned and reset.  But when everything was in place and I opened the coop door and all those birds came spilling out and immediately scattered and set to pecking and scratching and making those quiet contented cluck-clucks, why, I just had to stand there for a while and let it soak in.  Ommm-cluck.

Just Local Road Signs

I’m back home.  I can hear the rooster crowing even as I type this.  So good to see my wife.  Her blue-eyed smile.  Have just had a great morning in the office with my girls.  They drew and cut up scrap paper while I unpacked the accumulations of the road.  Also took a walk out the lane with the young one on my shoulders to check the corn…I got half of it cultivated before I left.  The cultivated half is thriving.  The uncultivated half is pale green and stunted, but I believe it still has a chance if I get out there in the next couple of days.

Regarding the tour and things in general, I expressed my thanks via yesterday’s Shelf Awareness post, and remain grateful.

And now for fun, a couple of pictures.  During the tour, we often discussed local foods and sustainability (although I tend to avoid the “s” word, as it is in danger of becoming over- and mis-used).  We regularly patronize Eau Claire’s own Just Local Food cooperative, run by friends and neighbors of ours.  Lately there has been some obstructive road construction near the store, and it was fun to open my email in the motel room the other day and find some photos from Larry Glenn (the man who did the live recording of my humor albums Never Stand Behind A Sneezing Cow and I Got It From the Cows) illustrating how the Just Local crew has been dealing with the traffic trouble (their logo is a carrot):