Faring and Fairing

There are certain pursuits which, if not wholly poetic and true, 

do at least suggest a nobler and finer relation to nature than we know. 

The keeping of bees, for instance.

-Henry David Thoreau

It's hive inspection day at the Balm and Honey bee farm. I'm getting ready to climb in my truck, rumble down some county roads, put on my bee suit and crack open a hive. I can't wait. Today I find out how the bees fared this winter... how they're faring headed into the spring honey flow. Today I see how many splits, or new hives, I'll be able to make for the coming year. Today I will taste the sweetness of victory or the bitterness of (temporary) defeat.

I think of beekeepers like I think of firefighters: they're just not normal. No rational person runs into a burning building, and, likewise, no rational person sticks their head into a hive of stinging bees. Both require (at varying levels, sure) a bit of bravery- a deep-seated assurance somewhere inside that you have to be among those who do something about dire situations. Firefighters are more glorious, honorable, and brave, yes. But beekeepers are savers in their own quiet way. I am humbled to join their ranks. 

So today I get bee answers and tomorrow I hit the road for the Mother Earth News (you know that magazine, right?) Texas Fair-- a two day homesteading extravaganza. I'll be taking a cheesemaking class and attending lectures on farming from Joel Salatin (what?!) and diving in to beekeeping and poultry production methods. I think there's a specialty kombucha brewing lesson thrown in there somewhere, too. Pretty sure I won't sleep a wink tonight, I'm that excited.

Will report on bees and the fair next week. Until then, be safe and well, friends. -Brin

The Chickens Get New Digs

Although I'm a few weeks away from settling into the cabin, my chickens have settled into their new space nicely. Even the new chicks. (I ended up with 10- not the seven I originally thought- when a "missing" hen walked up one day with her three chicks in tow. It was thrilling.)

They've been such a joy to watch. There's nothing more relaxing than sitting out here in the evening with some tea and seeing them playing, scratching, and chasing bugs. So far it appears they like the new digs.

A few of them are apart of the family, now, and have been named... mostly the outlandish-looking ones. This beautiful brown, black, gray, and copper-colored fella is Benn Gleck (haha!), seen above on the left and below on the right. It's my favorite, followed by Bethsaida, Beulah, Beatrix, Beauregard and Baby Haskins.

 The fuzzy white one is Baby Haskins, the obvious offspring of Haskins, this rooster below who follows me around like a puppy but flies at all my visitors if they get too close. (Which I secretly love. Pet attack rooster? Oh heck yes!)

After all, you can't have too many bodyguards. Or friends. Even they're 10 inches tall and have feathers. A girl who lives in a cabin in the woods needs all the help she can get, eh?

Happy Monday, from Millicent, Miss Marple, the chickens and me. -Brin

The Seven Chicks

I ended up with seven chicks: 2 brown, 2 white, one gray, one with brown/black stripes, and one black. And oh! So fluffy and adorable! Especially that lone little black one there. I'll take better pictures soon, but for now I'm trying to leave them under that warm, red bulb and close to their adoptive Mama. They come out from under her wings only to peck at food, crowd around the water, and play. Then it's back under Mama.

It was a wonderful weekend, taking cocoa to the hen house and watching the chicks. It was calming... oddly soothing, somehow... and I became engrossed in watching the new life, watching them waddle and peck and flap their tiny wings for the first time. I wish everyone- children, especially- could have that moment, too.

Today I'm working at finishing this quilt... finally!... and putting together another round of knitted goodies for my online shop. That, and baking bread and putting together a chicken spaghetti. I think some hot comfort food is in order to keep this cozy magic about the place.

Hope your day is cozy. -Brin
 

Unto Us A Chick Is Born...

It was early. Chilly. The coldest morning we've had in months, in fact. I hadn't had coffee.

I was in my pajama pants, trying to move quietly toward the hen house but still making a ruckus- crunchy leaves have blown into my little barn, pine shavings have littered out, a tin bucket had fallen from a nail and gotten in my path. So I couldn't hear that little cheep cheep cheep coming from under Hephzibah's feathers.

Wow, was it chilly. I filled the chicken feeder, checked on everyone, tossed them handfuls of grass, and went back in.

But today is the day. It takes chicken eggs 21 days to hatch, give or take how ambitious the chick is. And today is Day 21. Eight eggs... three weeks... and today's the day.
 

 

Millie and I went back out to check a little while later. And to my amazement, in the back of the nesting box, a miracle: a tiny, already fluffed-out chick!

I screeched, jumped up and down, and went into a flurry of action: Mama, unhatched eggs, and chick went from the nesting box into my make-shift brooder. Although I've heard not to handle chicks as the Mama won't want them with your smell all over them- I took a chance. I dipped the little one's beak in the electrolyte water and pecked at the chick mash so it would take note.

Four hours later, the little one is already eating chick mash and playing on Hephzibah. And the countdown for the remaining little ones is on. 

From our cozy little place to yours, have a great weekend! -Brin

Egg Empress

I had rather be on my farm

than be emperor of the world. 

-George Washington

It's egg delivery day, today is. Every shop in town is out of cartons, so I loaded eggs into grass nests in sacks. Necessity, and all. 

A friend down the road is raising meat rabbits, and we were discussing a fair trade of our goods. A deal was struck, so I guess I'm going to be learning to make rabbit stew this fall. Isn't it strange how tough times are forcing life to come full-circle? As badly as I want to return to Dallas some days, I can't imagine it, really. 

I'd rather be in my little wooden house with my garden patch and chickens than be empress of the world...


(Oh! Don't forget: you still have time to enter the Shabby Apple Gift Card Giveaway! Would hate for you to miss out! -Brin) 

A Few Glimpses Into the Life of a Girl Who Keeps Chickens

 

 

 

 

If you know somethin' well...

If you know somethin' well, you can always paint it 

but people would be better off buyin' chickens.

-Grandma Moses

 

I found my diary from 2002 the other day. I scarcely recognized the girl I read about in those pages. Brin from 2002 had this amazingly glitz life: reporting career in Dallas... dinner in high-rise restaurants... handsome boyfriend... fancy shoes... condo decorated by a professional... appointments for facials... concert tickets. Man. Brin from 2012 has an amazingly messy life: tutoring English and writing at a local college... dinner from a crockpot... ugh, men... rubber boots with caked-on manure... a little red house... appointments at the vet... and rodeo tickets. My, how time changes everything.

The other night, as I was feeding the chickens, I told them a little about my old life. Colonel Heaven, the keeper of the flock, stood quietly and listened. I was telling him about people, places and things I missed: the old boyfriend, the Granada, riding DART to get facials. And then I told him how ridiculous I felt, standing in the dirt telling a chicken about the good old days like some prattling old lady who stands alone in a pasture talking to hay bales. I laughed and he crowed.

A dear lady wrote me last weekend and asked why I haven't published anything yet. I told her it's because I have to revisit that old life to tell my story, and for now I'm only ready to tell the entire thing to a flock of feathers. (I'm sure the lady now thinks I'm crazy.) But maybe I could paint it- a dark and clashing collection of colors bleeding across many canvases. After all, If you know somethin' well, you can always paint it...

...but people would be better off buyin' chickens.

(Oh! And if you're on Pinterest, help me add to my 'Chicken Littles' board, would you? :)