my little farmer girl

Always in search of bullfrogs by the pond

So shy around people; so completely fearless with the animals

Sampling the grasses with the goats

Between rows and rows of garlic

She walks gracefully and self-assured

out to pasture

The days have been so very full around here of late. We're extra busy, and extra tired by sunset each day, but also so full of joy. It's just what I've needed recently - many other creatures to care for, which brings me outside myself for a bit, focusing my attention on the very basic needs of others. It's a replenishing sort of exhaustion, if that makes any sense.

This is our new Gold-laced Wyndotte. Isn't she stunning?

We were finally able to purchase the long-desired electric poultry netting to keep everyone safe from the fox, and the hens are incredibly happy to be free-ranging again. We've got the ducks in there with them for now, too, and they seem to rule the roost! The younger laying pullets are still undergoing their initiation phase with the older hens, but I have faith all will be peaceful again in a week's time.

My Cuckoo Maran (the black and white one on the left here), who I was hoping to get some beautiful chocolate brown eggs from, appears (and sounds to be) a rooster. Hmrn.

We have plans to bisect the fence this weekend so the meat birds can forage more as well.  

The turkeys are also getting lots of outdoor time in this hutch we found left on our property, and fixed up so they can enjoy the grass and sunshine until they're big enough to free-range as well. Soon, very soon!

This is our third year here, and we're finally becoming more settled and claiming this place as our own. It feels as if our little farm is coming to life after a long slumber.  

cured

I would never believe it if I didn't see it happen before my very own eyes. The little chickie with the not-so-little spraddle leg, curly toe problem has made a full recovery! I really thought he wasn't going to make it. And then another one was stricken with the same issues, and I became disheartened for awhile. Splinting them both multiple times each day, only to have the splints fall (or pecked, as the case may be) off within 30 minutes. Watching them spastically move about, unable to stand. Picking them up throughout the day to dip their beaks in water...

Lamenting the sorry state of affairs, I (skeptically) offered them water with a sprinkling of vitamin packet solution dissolved in it and gave them a reduced protein feed of 18.5% rather than the starter feed containing 23%. I decided to give it a week before deciding exactly what to do with them. Two days went by with no noticeable improvement. Then on day three, I thought they might be moving about just a tad more gracefully. I didn't get my hopes up, though, and was just grateful that at least they didn't seem worse.

And then another day passed and another. And each day they stood taller and for a longer time. Their legs were wobbly, but straight! And their toes uncurled! I continued my regimen, minus the (now deemed by me to be horribly worthless) splinting, cheering them on, happily changing out their miracle water which had been covered in pine shaves because they were actually scratching at the ground! Can you imagine writhing around on your belly one day with your legs completely unusable, and then greeting the morning with an upright posture, taking the first steps of your life? I can't help but think there's a kind of "amazing grace" type allegory in this tale. For now, I will just say: It really is nothing short of amazing.

Why, hello. You'd like to be released from sick bay now, I see? Oh, good for you. I'm so happy to see you've actually been able to hop out of your brooder box! Nevermind the poo you've left all over the floor. We'll clean that up later. No need to thank me. Here, have some more water!

a knitted pony

I think I may have stumbled on the perfect knitted toy for little girls. I made a pony from this pattern for my niece's sixth birthday, and she loves it!  

springtime knitting

I think knitting is my nesting. And, well, nesting is my nesting. And perhaps knitting is my break from all that exhaustive cleaning and tidying and rearranging. For, you see, my second labor is looking likely to be much like my first (read: complicated), and I have this urge to put everything right and lovely just in case I, well...die. Oh, that sounds so terrible and even worse when written down, but it's a major motivational force; something akin to having on clean underwear (which I assure you I most certainly do. My hair and shoes will likely be dirty, buy my undies - and now my house - clean!) As the little girl around here says: clean. nice. dry. It is also said little girl who has a drawer full of sweet old springtime dresses picked up by her thrifty mama, but who instead wants only to wear her rather garish Christmas footed pajamas all day, every day. Never mind that within 5 minutes of playing, they are covered in dog hair, certainly offending my nesting sensibilities. 

I may have no control over wardrobe choices, but at least I can manage to contain some of the animal messes. The fowl have all been banished to the garage (don't worry, they still get loads of visits and attention each day), and are growing so quickly that they should be out to pasture soon!

Onto the knitting: I finished a hat for baby-boy-to-be, much like this one, using all the bits of leftover yarn from the longies I knit awhile back. I might not be able to resist making a bear hat like this one as well. I'm working on a blanket now, also from the Vintage Knits for Modern Babies book, although it only gets attention late at night or when the weather doesn't permit us to be outdoors working on the garden. Today is shaping up to be beautiful out - a bit sunny and a tad warmer - much unlike yesterday, which was very cold with a foot of snow and still falling. It will mostly be melted today, though, if you can imagine that - it's what we call Springtime in the Rockies!

...and this little chickie has leg problems

Here is a harsh reality about bringing so many animals into your life - statistics alone dictate that some are going to have problems. No venture is ever perfect, and while much is in your power to control (or at least try to control), some things simply are not. And some decisions are the hardest to make in the worst possible way, where you nearly will that the choice be made for you. Because making a difficult choice tends to lead to existential crises, particularly when death is involved. Is this animal suffering? I'm not a chicken, so how can I presume what suffering is for them? Am I culling out of convenience because spending so much of my time and energy each day on rehabilitation that I'm skeptical will work is draining my own reserves? Is it that I can't stand to watch perceived suffering, and it is actually my own emotional pain that I'm seeking to alleviate? These are my unanswered questions.

I'm quite indecisive by nature, but I have to say that farming has made me more confident in my decisions. Oftentimes, issues need to be dealt with right now, leaving little room for much except action based on instinct or common sense. But this isn't one of those moments either, so while I try various things, practice watchful waiting and observation, and ponder exactly what to do with this chickie, here are some resources I've found helpful of late:

-Splinting to correct spraddle leg and curly toe

-Curly toe and riboflavin deficiency (although I've read elsewhere that the problem may be a genetic inability to bind, and therefore absorb, riboflavin - in which case no amount of therapy is going to work).

Fingers and chickie toes crossed for a happy outcome. 

Oh, the mess.

I spent all morning yesterday doing some good clean up work in our mudroom - shuffling brooders, filling bucket after bucket of spent bedding, and caring for all our new feathered babies. We lost one little meat bird chick this morning, who I had tried to nurse back to health, but who I knew was likely going to pass on. The rest are vigorous, and all received a fresh bed of pine shavings, a splash of apple cider vinegar in their water, and a little sprinkling of diatomaceous earth in their topped off food. I also refilled the glass jar of cotton balls I keep by the sink in there, which has become my pasty-butt cleaning station.

After this current cold snap subsides, the pullets' (the ones who started this whole mess!) brooder will be moved to the garage, as we wean them from the heat lamp in preparation for moving them to the barn to join the other laying hens. The ducklings were staying with the meat chicks, but now have their own little box due to the huge wet mess they make (an adorable wet mess, mind you), eliciting plenty of "ay yi yi's" from my little girl whenever we went to check on them. She goes in there to visit often, coming back to report that everyone's "alright."