Total Eclipse of the Farm

 Bonnie Tyler’s song, “Total Eclipse of the Heart”, must have gone way up the play charts when the total solar eclipse enveloped Jackson County a few weeks ago in a spectacle we have never seen, nor will ever see again, in our lifetimes in this area. 

When the last total solar eclipse in the US happened in 2017, I remember thinking I had to get to the path of totality and drove 4 hours to Carbondale, Illinois. Watching people there was phenomenal - one guy completely covered himself in aluminum foil, I guess to protect himself from the “harmful” rays of the cosmic event. Another individual must have been trying to get in touch with his ancient Egyptian ancestors, as he was clad in full pharoah regalia complete with a crook and flail (items that these ancient rulers are typically shown carrying). 

When the time came for the moon to darken the sun, huge billowy clouds decided to largely obscure the event by moving right into place as the eclipse reached totality. There was a collective groan of disappointment as everyone realized that we would not be seeing the spectacle clearly in the sky. 

That disappointment was not to last though, when a gorgeous 360° sunset displayed during the time of totality on the horizon.

When the 2017 eclipse ended, there was definitely a traffic jam on my way back. I remember the trip taking about 12 hours, as opposed to the 4 that it took for me to get to Carbondale. 

What a difference 7 years makes.

The eclipse of 2024 was without driving, without aluminum foil and without any Egyptian royalty. This stellar event held more sentiment though as it involved around 40 chickens, 2 pot belly pigs, 4 geese, 6 ducks, a whole bunch of honey bees and some great friends to join in the festivities. 

The day felt like a holiday with many businesses closed to allow their employees to enjoy the event with their families or to avoid the predicted traffic that would follow the eclipse. Everyone was holding their breath for the weather, watching as the clouds in the morning gave way to brilliantly blue skies that afternoon. 

My biggest observation for this eclipse was being able to observe the animals as the light changed and it went to twilight. 

Not surprising, the chickens started to go into their coop as it became darker and then, right before totality, the chickens began filing back out into their yard. When the moon completed its shadowing of the sun, the birds completely froze in place. No pecking, no bwak bwak, no sound. 

The pot belly pigs also retreated into their barn to await the passing of the phenomena  as well as the geese and ducks freezing in place.

The small group of humans that had gathered with me ooo’ed and awww’ed as the period of darkness continued for a few minutes and I stood, barefooted, taking in as much of the sight as I could. 

When the sunlight returned, I remember feeling almost refreshed and at peace. The chickens resumed their normal poultry behavior, the geese began screech honking and the pigs moved back into their yard. The small group and I all reflected on what we had seen. 

I wanted that feeling of peace to last forever, but unfortunately we humans don’t always remember how to be nice to one another. However, for that one period of about 4 minutes, things seemed right in the world. Maybe one day we’ll keep that feeling beyond a cosmic event like an eclipse.. 

Until next time…

The Chicks in the Mail

 Springtime is one of my favorite seasons on the farm. The grass is so vibrantly green, fruit blossoms burst forth on the trees and even when storms come through, which has been pretty frequently as of late, the storm blue sky of an approaching thunder-boomer just makes all of the Spring colors pop. 

Spring is also the season of unpredictable temperatures as Mother Nature fights to regulate her moods; sometimes she’s warm and inviting and others she gives a cold shoulder and even tosses snowflakes around. 

It is also during this season that we farmers start to look forward to planting our crops and raise baby animals. Always with the hope that if the weather changes it isn’t too drastic of a shift. Nothing is more nerve wracking than getting fragile seeds into the ground, which sprout forth during a period of several warm days, only to be zapped back by an unexpected freeze. 

Typically the first part of April is when the meat chicks, what I call meat seeds, that I’ve ordered back in January, arrive. The days prior to their arrival at our wonderful postal service, I’m on baby alert. I watch the weather obsessively, cringing when I hear of a cold snap headed our way. The tracking feature on the hatchery’s website goes up a few quarter clicks as I frequently check the shipment of chicks making their journey from Polk, Ohio, down to our little post office. 

My obsession is not unwarranted, a few years back there was a shipment of 100 chicks which took a complete detour from their origin in Ohio to Pennsylvania and then back to their Indiana destination. While the birds were touring the upper part of the country, there was also a hard freeze that happened and when the chicks were finally delivered to the local post office, the postmaster called with a solemn voice - telling me that he was pretty sure there were still some alive in the box but he wasn’t sure how many. 

Not one of the most positive times on the farm, but that year three quarters of the shipment didn’t survive. Not only was it a hard loss emotionally but everything had to be adjusted for the rest of the year. 

You see, before the meat seeds arrive, the processing date needs to be set well in advance so that everything works in perfect timing. When that amount of livestock is lost, it requires a call to the processor for a number adjustment and then the need to set another processing date for the replacements which will arrive when the hatchery says they are available (sometimes not for a month or two). So a kink in the process really created havoc that year. 

All this being said, I’m eagerly awaiting the arrival of 100 new meat seeds that are to be delivered in the next day or so and, guess what, another cold snap has descended upon us. I’m hounding the hatchery for tracking information and have set up the brooder boxes that the little fluff balls will call home for the first three weeks of their life. I’ll finally relax when I know the chicks are in the mail and headed my way without any problems. Hopefully thats soon. 

Until next time…

Procrastination Equals Cost Inflation

 Forgive me dear readers, it has been 8 weeks since my last article and I know that I’m going to have to do penance to catch everyone up on what has been happening around the compound, ‘ahem the farm.

Surprisingly, the frigid temperatures that we all faced a few weeks ago didn’t do much damage at all. Not going to lie, it was a struggle to get last minute heaters plugged in, only to find out that two of the four that I had, had gone on the fritz and were not working. 

This necessitated needing to move one of the bantam chicken flocks in with one of the others - resulting in a wonderful new situation as there are now only three flocks to work with instead of four. 

The pot belly piggies; Chester and Spike, caused me the most concern as I wasn’t sure how they would handle the extreme temperatures. I knew they needed several bales of straw, but when one waits until the last minute to get supplies before a big event like that - one has to realize that resources will be limited and limited they were. 

When I went to purchase said two bales of straw at my usual location inside a barn where they have the money box on an honor system, they were, no surprise, out. Almost in frustrated tears and ready to finally succumb to my reservation at bringing farm animals into the house, as I drove away from the site I noticed a hay wagon filled with a dwindling amount of straw bales and a pickup truck nearby with, who I presumed was, the straw farmer inside. 

Talk about begging and pleading, I walked up to the truck and asked the man inside if those bales on the wagon were for sale. He nodded and gave me the price. It seemed to be a bit more than usual, but at that particular moment I would have just about paid any price for straw. I paid the man and didn’t even scoff when it turned out I didn’t have change and ended up giving him three extra dollars. 

Lesson learned for me - procrastination equals cost inflation.

I must have looked like a crazed woman as I then heaved myself up on the wagon, grabbed two bales, leapt down and crammed them into my Honda FIT. My only reservation being that I hoped that the bales weren’t harboring some sort of rodent that had sought shelter in them. 

The bales were brought to the pigs and they spent several days inside the barn, snuggly in their straw pile bed. Of course, they didn’t get bored as I still had some fall pumpkins to keep their minds, and their mouths, busy.

We’re now on the downhill trek towards Spring and I pray no more extreme temperatures, but I was reminded of a valuable lesson that day - don’t ever wait until the last minute to do something critical, more effort and resources are spent that could have been used elsewhere. 

Next year when the hint of winter begins in the fall you’d best believe I’ll be purchasing enough straw bales to get me through the winter and then some. 

Perhaps I’ll borrow a truck though just in case something decides to tag along. 

Until next time…

A Concrete Goose Chase

 On more than one occasion, I’ve been told that I need to have a “Farm Cam” to catch all of the antics that happen on an almost daily occurrence. 

The dedicated “Farm Cam” is still a dream in the future, but a few days ago I discovered a security camera can be a great substitute. 

It was early morning and morning chores were just being completed. I didn’t wear a coat that day because I figured I’d be back in the house fairly quickly. Walking down to the small barn to feed the pot belly pigs and barn cat and fill up feeders and waterers for the chickens was uneventful and then I began my walk back to the house. 

As I approached the house I heard a goose honking loudly, a usual occurrence because the geese are always begging for food. What was strange, however, was that the sound wasn’t coming from behind the house, it was coming from the front of the house. 

My eyes looked toward the front and only saw the white concrete goose that stands guard in the turnaround of the driveway. 

Now, I know that I’m on the other side of the half-century mark in age but I also know I haven’t completely lost my senses yet. Was I entering that land of no return in hearing concrete animals making sounds? 

I drew closer to where the sound had resounded from. There was not one concrete goose but seemingly two! I definitely needed to get more sleep. 

Of course, what I was actually noticing was that one of the live backyard geese had somehow gotten out of the fence and wandered to the front - seeking out the stoic, non-speaking concrete goose for companionship. 

Picture in your mind this visual: a middle-aged woman in pink pajama bottoms with little pink pigs on them, a short-sleeve t-shirt, hair disheveled and wearing black rain boots. This goose needed to be returned to the safety of the backyard and its flock and I was going to have to do everything I could to get it back, regardless of how ridiculous I looked.. 

I figured it wasn’t much different than corralling a chicken so I crouched in the football stance, arms outstretched, calling out “this way buddy, this way.” All while cars on their way to their respective places of work rushed past. 

It took a bit but the goose finally allowed itself to be caught and as I went inside to change into clothes for my day job I thought “it’s too bad that wasn’t caught on camera - I’m sure it was hilarious.”

That’s when I realized - the security camera on the front of the house had captured it all. 

The video was shared on Facebook and at the urging of several friends, I decided to take a chance and send it to America’s Funniest Home Videos. 

Who knows if this morning antic will be enough to capture the attention of the producers of the show, but it definitely provides for a great story at Christmastime. 

It’s as I always say to people who stop to talk about the antics on the farm - you just never know what’s going to happen next. 

Merry Christmas to all and until next time…

A Cat Burglar

 At last account, there was a mystery going on, on the farm. The chickens were still busily gobbling up their spent grain, and discarded pumpkins that folks had either delivered right to the door or I picked up, and frustration was mounting that each day there wasn’t an egg to be seen. 

Sunny out-of-season warm days happened that should have guaranteed a plethora of orbs and still no eggs. 

On occasion, one would find the remnants of an egg - the shell laying completely clean of yolk and white but then, nothing. 

Thinking that the culprit was most likely another chicken or chickens that had discovered that some pretty tasty things come from their backsides, or perhaps a wayward racoon or weasel that was sneaking into the coop, all on recognizance was set up with a night vision trail cam to capture who the wily thief was. 

The first attempt at capturing the heist in progress was a total failure. The SD card that was in the trail cam experienced an error some time between setting the cam up and checking about 72 hours later. 

Not to be defeated, a new SD card was obtained and once again a waiting period of 72 hours went by. 

Super excited to see what or who the culprit was going to be, the card was taken inside the house to glean through around 400 or so still photos of chickens going in and out of nesting boxes, the occasional dust cloud drifting by and then, the answer to all of the missing eggs was discovered. 

Who would it be but dear Cooper, the barn cat that took up residence last November as a small kitten. 

Photo after photo showing the crafty cat reaching into a nesting box with his murder mittens to gently roll a freshly egg out onto the coop floor and then quietly devour it like it never happened left me absolutely stunned. 

Knowing that the cat had been displaying a beautifully shiny and healthy coat, it all made sense now. Obviously the temptation of having a fresh egg or two every day was just too much for the feline and he had been helping himself to the freshest laid eggs in Jackson County. 

The cat burglar being identified, now comes the dilemma of a trial. Is it banishment from the chicken coop? Perhaps new nesting boxes need to be purchased that allow the eggs to roll back into a secret compartment so that they can’t be readily accessible to fluffy paws.

Whatever the outcome comes to, it has to be that at least some, if not all, eggs need to be saved from an over easy bum nugget cruncher. Efforts to interrogate the guilty party have gone unanswered. 

Until next time…

A Fowl Act in the Coop

There’s a thief (or perhaps thieves) lurking in the chicken coop and it’s going to take some real feather searching to figure out the mystery. 

Every year, about this time, unless supported by artificial light, hens decide to go on a bit of a vacation from producing orb shaped objects from their backsides and cease laying. The biannual molt occurs too where the feathered cluckers lose their feathers and grow new ones. This process takes a lot of the energy away from producing eggs and goes into producing nice, soft fluffy new feathers that will carry the birds through the next season. It is normal this time of year to expect a drop in production.  

However, what’s happened recently goes way beyond what a normal drop in production would be. 

Back in August, the number of eggs being produced by around 30 laying hens (of which most are around 2 years old) dropped off significantly. The weather was a bit off as well so the absence of eggs wasn’t too alarming, at first. 

This phenomenon continued through September and that’s when the culprit (or culprits) started leaving behind evidence that it wasn’t just a decrease in birds laying. 

When collecting eggs from the nesting boxes, broken pieces of shell started showing up. The eggs that remained in the boxes displayed clues of little beak shaped pecking holes. 

It didn’t take a scientist to realize that the coop was dealing with an egg eater. 

Chickens are curious creatures that are omnivores and sometimes even cannibalistic. Nothing is off the dinner plate when it comes time to chowing down. No surprise then that these fowl are direct descendants of the Tyrannosaurus Rex. 

Obviously, once the hen laid her egg, the taste of farm fresh was just too tempting and she gulped it down. So much for getting any profits out of the clucker freeloaders. 

It’s going to take some serious reconnaissance now that the cause of the missing eggs has been identified. Tracking devices attached to the birds to locate which one goes in which nesting box is way out of this small farmer’s price range so it’ll have to be somewhat primitive. A trail cam, stationed precisely in front of the nesting boxes, will have to do to try and nab the culprit or culprits. 

All of this is great in figuring out who’s been eating the eggs but then will come the subject of how to address the sentencing of this fowl act. I’m not one for capital punishment when the crime is ingrained in a thousand year old bird brain but I think relocation may be in this bird or birds future. 

You just never know what’s going to happen on the farm. 

Until next time…

Having a Baby Changes Everything

There used to be a commercial that ran on TV that had the tagline “having a baby changes everything.” 

It showed a woman giving a plump little baby a bath in the kitchen sink with the child laughing and smiling and the woman having the time of her life. Water was splashing everywhere and the commercial was shot in black and white, giving the viewer a feeling of nostalgia. 

You know, it doesn’t matter whether it’s human or animal, this saying is completely true. 

Having never had children of my own and giving my parents more grand-dogs and grand-cats than they would probably prefer, I’ve yet to raise a baby mammal of any kind (other than hamsters and other shelf pets many years ago). 

Chickens, ducks and now more recently geese, have been raised from hatches on the farm but never an animal that needed to depend so strongly on another to grow. 

The puppies that were born a few short weeks ago, otherwise known as the “potatoes”, have definitely changed routines around the farm. They are learning to stand on all fours, trying to create “ferocious” growls (it sounds a bit like a muted coffee grinder) and some have even found their “bark”. Their eyes are wide open now and suddenly the kennel that has been their home for the past four weeks doesn’t seem large enough for their adventurous spirits. 

The other animals on the farm have felt the surge of popularity of the tiny creatures as feed times sometimes are delayed due to needing to get the puppies into a playpen so that they can have a bit more room to run about or the visitors that have wanted to just peer in on the snuggly cuddle puddle that the little ones create. 

It is getting close to the time that the pups will be heading off to find forever homes and I have to say that I’m feeling a bit melancholy. All of the pups will be adopted through the Jackson County Humane Society and all will be given great homes.

That doesn’t mean that I don’t still want to keep them as close as I can for just a little while longer. 

Fostering animals is definitely a skill to learn. It does sting a bit when they leave, but keeping the mindset that they are going to homes that will treat them with so much love and attention makes it a bit easier. Also, every animal that is placed for adoption means that another in need has a place to stay while they wait for their turn. 

In the meantime, I’ll be making sure that the little potatoes learn as much about domesticated life as possible. Things have definitely changed. 

Until next time…