Trying to Take Some Time Off? Don't be a Farmer!

This time of year it seems everyone is making travel plans. Gotta get the plane tickets to visit your great Aunt Gertie, gas up and check the family vehicle to make sure it can make the 6 hour trip to visit the in-laws, perhaps a tropical getaway with a lighted palm tree to substitute for the traditional conifer of the Midwest and a quiet holiday. The list goes on.
I listen with understanding as people reach out to various pet sitters in the community, making sure that their precious pupper or their precocious feline is given a comfortable place to "vacation" while they are away. Sometimes that means a posh boarding kennel with heated floors, TV's with cable, yummy treats and other times it means having a "stay-cation" where the dog(s) and/or cat(s) remain in the owners' home. So many different options if you have one or more of the more common "inside" pets.
All of that changes if you have livestock.
Before my "farming days" I would call a friend, ask them to watch the two dogs and two cats I had and it was a mutual understanding, "I watch yours, you watch mine" with no money exchanged between us and minimal amount of work on either of our parts.
Now, it's more like bargaining. The conversation usually goes like this, "Hey, hope you're well - need to ask if you can watch the three dogs and two cats...*pause here*… and the 40 standard size chickens and guineas, 5 tiny breed chickens and, uh, oh yeah, two ducks for a short weekend." Awkward silence and then a look of relief from the other party as I add, "oh, and I'll pay you."
I am extremely blessed that I have two young persons that are in 4H that live nearby. They are super responsible and their folks are there to make sure that every detail is taken care of. They are of "farming cloth" which, in my mind means that we all help one another. I'm also very grateful that it doesn't cost me a small fortune to ask for their help.
That being said, it doesn't take care of the guilt that I feel while I'm gone that I know that water will have to be carried the 150 feet or so from the house down to the barn (I still am working on getting water down there), birds will have to be let out in the morning and shut in at night, eggs will need to be collected, feed will need to be filled, etc. All of this plus the two meals that the dogs and cats will need to be fed each day.
The amount of time that I spend away from the farm is minimal in a year - I believe this year I will be away 4 nights total. This time away is far greater than what other farmers get to experience - too many things can go wrong when one is off the farm. The "vacation" that farmers experience is in the time between when the crops have been harvested (though planning continues), animals have been sent to market (though there is clean up and checking fences, etc. for the next group), or the equipment has been checked over, maintained and cleaned for its next use.
Like I said, I am blessed that I have these two young people to watch my tiny farm while I take some time away but I know that soon they will go on to other things - college, family, etc. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy the few days that I get to see a change of scenery and still rejoice that the best part of being out on the farm is watching things grow, and the sunrises and sunsets. Oftentimes those are better than any view you would see on a tropical island (cheaper too!).

Just a Little Patience

It takes patience to be a chicken farmer. Patience for the little fluff balls to grow up to laying age (around 16 weeks old or so), patience for that first egg (it's supposed to be around 16 weeks but can go anywhere from 14 to 20 weeks)– that is IF you’ve gotten a hen from your local chicken supplier and not accidentally a rooster, and patience in waiting every day for that wonderful shelled nugget that is produced by a fluffy bottomed hen.

The Original 2015 Flock; (from left going clockwise), 

Henrietta, Mildred, Gertrude and Eleanor

I remember clearly that first egg that I received from my first group of birds. All of these birds had middle names of my grandmothers and were named; Henrietta, Mildred, Eleanor, and Gertrude. It was Henrietta who laid the first egg. She was an ameraucana breed hen (white in feather color)
and laid the prettiest blue/green egg and that was what I found that late summer day in 2015. Granted, this egg was crushed when I found it but I was still so excited that all of the waiting had paid off.

First Egg from The Flock

It would be weeks for the rest of the group to join Henrietta’s production and soon I had 4 eggs waiting for me to gather at the end of each day. This was wonderful! I could sell surplus eggs and pay for the feed that these birds gobbled up so eagerly.
This was a new enterprise, until the days turned shorter and the weather turned colder. Suddenly, I was lucky to find one egg in the nest box let alone the original four. I was completely stunned! What had happened? Why weren’t they laying eggs? Grocery stores always have eggs – why couldn’t I?

A few clicks to Google and I found out my answer quickly enough. Birds cease laying in the darker months because that’s not the time to raise young (what an egg is ultimately for). Nature has its way of making sure that everything is given the best chance at survival and hatching a young chick when the days are short would mean that the temperature would be less than cordial to a tiny peeping egg with feet.

Fast forward to today and I always know the inevitable drop off in lay is going to happen each summer when the egg boxes are full of all sorts of colors of eggs (and yes, they all taste the same as a regular egg). I’m still always a bit shocked though when that trip to the barn suddenly yields four eggs instead of 22+.

A Summer Yield of Eggs

I’ve tried to supplement with light, given them yogurt, given them cayenne pepper; any number of tricks I’ve read will increase laying but the girls are adamant for having their winter break and that’s just fine with me. My only frustration being that because the eggs are so good – I don’t always have them to sell to folks.

It won’t be long though before the days become longer and I walk again from the barn with a full egg basket. I eagerly wait for those days so that when someone asks to purchase, I have the right number of eggs just steps away from the house. I just have to have patience until then.

We Don't Mind a Trashy Relationship with The Seymour Brewing Company

You could say that our relationship with The SeymourBrewing Company is a little “on the trashy side”, to quote a line from Confederate Railroad’s song, “Trashy Women”.

Oh no, we don’t mind at all! In fact, we like to get as much trash as we can from this sophisticated brewpub located in The Small Town of Seymour, Indiana.

Each week, we pick up between 10 to 20 buckets of spent brewers’ mash, cast off pelleted hops bags and dry mash bags. All left in a neat little row each day at the rear of the brewery.

It sounds a bit like a hoarding situation, right? Well, actually – it’s a commitment that Purple Shamrock Farm has had from the very beginning; to recycle as much as possible and keep as much as we can out of the landfill.

The spent brewers’ mash has three actual purposes when we get it.

Depending on the demand and how dry the mash is – some will go into making those super famous, super favored dog treats called I.P.A. Bites (Incredible. Pupper. Appetizers.)^® made by our farm called Purple Shamrock Farm.

A second use is supplemental chicken feed for our 40+ hens that inhabit the farm. It’s amazing how excited these feathered flock mates get when we drive the car up to the side of the chicken run, get out and dump five gallon buckets over the side of the fence where the birds are all too eager to run up and gobble it up. In the winter- steam rises from the mash so it warms them up while feeding them.

The final use for the grain is compost for the 5 acres of the farm. Garden and field get regular donations of spent brewers’ mash to help keep the soil as rich as possible.

The cast off pelleted hops bags go into making zippered pencil/money/whatever-you-want-to-hold bags that still hold the smell of the hops. Talk about a beer lover’s delight that when they reach into the bag for beer money- the money smells like hops!

The dry mash bags- they go into making sturdy, waterproof tote bags that proclaim the love of beer and recycling.

We don’t mind being called trashy if it means keeping more of what we love out of the landfill and back into use. We’re fairly certain that The Seymour Brewing Company likes us that way.

                                                      

Things Have Been Clucking 'Round Here

Another summer season has flown by. It's difficult to believe that Purple Shamrock Farm (PSF) has only been around for three years and yet so much has happened in the 1,095 days that we've been there. When PSF started in 2016, we had two dogs and two cats, plus 4 chickens.
This past summer ended the season for 3 of our house animals, beginning with Gracie, our sweet dog of 11 years at the age of approx.13, passing away July 7th. Followed by Olivia, our first farm cat, passing a week later, and then finally Oliver, one of our original animals of 8 years passing later in August. There were moments of great mourning, but as is so often with farming - there were lots of gains this summer as well.
We ended up with three ducks, beginning with the taking on of a small mallard who ended up having special needs, but lots of fight to survive. We have been watching our other two ducks (two Rouens) morph into what we now know are a male and female and we look forward to
seeing what the growing season of 2020 brings when they are of age and may be raising ducklings of their own.
The summer of 2019 also found us with four silkie chickens which we discovered were all hens so another rooster, a cochin named "Muttly Crow", was added to the mix. 2020 should find us reintroducing the silkie/cochin cross birds that we had in 2018 before a predator wiped the whole flock out.
Finally, we gained another doggo from our local Humane Society. A small (tiny is more the word), chihuahua/dachshund mix named Poquita. She has been keeping things hopping around the farm as she is the youngest of all of our critters and has LOTS of energy.
On the small business side, we found ourselves with
eggs to sell (finally!) at the Seymour Area Farmer's Market almost every weekend. We were able to sell I.P.A. Bites (Incredible. Pupper. Appetizers.)® at the Indiana State Fair and made a connection with the State of Indiana's First Dog, Henry Holcomb, through a donation of treats to the National Republican Women's Federation for their swag bags to be given at an event in September. We also received a partnership with a local drugstore in town, Family Drug, to have our treats given to pooches that rode with their owners when picking up a prescription. All of this, plus selling treats at the Farmer's Market, has made the creation of these little bites well worth the effort.
Finally, our marketing took a step up in getting to order farm branded t-shirts with our logo on them for our town's local Oktoberfest.
The summer of 2019 was a tiring one, and not everything went according to plan (don't even ask about what happened to the garden this year - ha!) but a lot of things went very right and we're looking forward to seeing what the summer of 2020 brings.

The Stress of Spring

The sun has been shining now for two days in a row and the flowers and trees are starting to bud and blossom. You can almost hear them stretching, yawning and sighing relief that the cold days of winter seem to be behind us and it is time to grow.

On the farm, little purple flowers are starting to pop up in the fields – turning everything a lovely shade of purple and the first Spring grass just glows. It is an amazing sight and the biggest reason Spring is one of my most favorite seasons. 

I have to remind myself to enjoy these sights as I also think of the short time frame I have to get the garden tilled before weeds take over, plants planted so that the ground produces food, baby chicks moved from brooder to grow out pen to, finally, the adult coop, dog treats made and readied for the upcoming Farmer’s Markets and a bit of Spring Cleaning to take inventory to what I have and what I need to keep and what needs to go.

It can certainly be a stressful time as it doesn’t take but a few weeks before summer’s heat sets in and mowing becomes a priority as well as keeping waterers filled as the chickens’ need for water increases. 

Just as in the winter, when the temperature drops below 20 degrees, I have to stop for a moment and just take in this gift of rural living that I have taken on. Catching a sunrise and pausing for just a few minutes to appreciate the colors and the sounds of the earth waking or stopping for a sunset when the crickets and peep frogs begin to sing their nightly serenade needs and must be a priority for me to keep the balance. 

Rural living can be tough, but the rewards are incredible. 

A Little Double Clucker Magic May Be in the Air

Word around the farm lately has been that something magical may be about to happen. A few weeks back, an Olive Egger hen laid one of her HUGE eggs.

When this bird lays one of these eggs it’s a bit unnerving. The size of it is at least two large eggs put together and I’m honestly surprised that the hen isn’t walking straddle-legged after producing such an orb.

The egg is always a double-yolker and I’ve had to stop putting them in the egg cartons for my eggs to sell because the massive size of the egg doesn’t allow the carton to close completely.

Not to mention, a lot of folks may be freaked out by eating something that large.

So, I gathered this huge egg from the henhouse and set it aside while I washed the other eggs I’d collected that day. The thought entered my mind that maybe I could incubate this egg, but what would be the chances that 1. both yolks were fertilized and 2. that both would develop into chicks?

I was right at the end point of having the last of the 7 eggs hatch in the incubator and I just couldn’t figure out how this was going to work. Should I even attempt to have it work?

I sat the egg on the kitchen counter for a couple of days, turning it twice a day, as I watched the remaining chicks emerge from their shells in the incubator. If I put the huge egg into the incubator it would be almost 4 days after it had been laid (yet another negative factor to development).

There were 7 very happy, healthy, chicks in the brooder at this point and after I cleaned up the hatching mess (oh yes, trust me – there is a mess), sterilized the incubator and started to put things away I suddenly thought “oh what the heck, why not?”

In ten minutes time I had the incubator set back up, humidity raised, egg turner re-installed and the huge egg placed into the warm, moist air of the machine. I had to commit.  

I checked two days into the egg being in the incubator and only saw two yolks floating around beneath the shell. Though I knew it was way too soon to tell I was almost happy that nothing had developed. The burning questions of; what if only one chick survives and the other doesn’t make it, what if both chicks make it the full way before hatching and then don’t survive, what if one is born and has a problem because it was squeezed into a shell with another. Was I doing something wrong by trying? Would other farmers have tried this or was it wasteful?

I had to stop questioning and wait a few more days so I did.

Five days into the egg being in the incubator I removed the lid and shined the candeler light into the shell. There were two distinct “spider webs” that could be seen indicating that yes- there were in fact, two chicks growing inside this massive egg. TWINS!

Fast forward to now with only about 5 days to go before the twins scheduled “hatching date” and though I can’t tell if both chicks are still going inside the egg I know that something is growing and I’m staying hopeful that I’ll be one of the very lucky few who has twin chickens hatch out of an egg.

If you do a Google search on twin chickens hatching you’ll notice that the success rate is extremely low. Most of the time the chicks can’t get out and exhaust themselves fighting against one another to break out of the shell. It is with this guard that I’m anxiously awaiting the 27^th of March to see if I get to see two little beaks trying to get out.

Double Yolks, Double Chicks?

So I’ve been a bit on a hatching binge lately. A few weeks back I purchased 4 little bantam chicks from the local farm store. Then, I decided that I needed to find out how well the new incubator worked so I put 9 eggs in and I’ll be darned if 7 eggs didn’t hatch 21 days later!

A few days ago, my olive egger hen decided to lay one of those huge eggs that she sometimes produces and I knew that it was a double yolker.

I let the egg rest on the kitchen counter for a couple of days – gently turning it twice a day to keep the yolk from sticking to one side and finally decided that I needed to take action and get it into the incubator to try and incubate a double hatch.

Weird? Yes. Unethical? Well, the chances of one chick making it to hatch are few and far between and for both yolks to develop and grow and then both hatch is almost next to impossible but I’m thinking I need to try it at least once. I’ve not had the opportunity just yet to candle this egg and see if anything is starting to develop, but once it does I’ll be watching it so closely.

According to Google, the chances of having a double yolked egg is one in every 100 eggs so the odds of developing chicks from such an egg are even smaller. Usually one chick out competes the other and one will survive and the other will not.

I can’t say how many times I’ve struggled with the thought and the know that one chick may hatch and be raised by itself.

That thought is quickly replaced though by the hope and the prayer that both chicks survive to hatching and I manage to catch the whole crazy thing on recording.

A bit of this is, I think, the farmer mentality – try it and see if it works. If it doesn’t, don’t do it again and learn the lesson.

The day of truth is coming up within the next day or so when I candle the egg for the first time and discover growth or just two black blobs (the yolks) moving around beneath the shell.

Stay tuned for what happens next. 

A Flocking Miracle

I gained a few more gray hairs last night with two chicks in the incubator that decided they were ready to make an early entrance.

I put the eggs in “lock down” on Sunday and figured I had at least three more days to prepare the brooding box and double check everything that I would need.

Okay, let me stop for a moment. You probably have no idea what I’m talking about with “lock down”. Let me explain briefly.

“Lock down” is a term used when incubating eggs to signify the final three or so days of the 21 total days of incubation. It is called lock down because you up the humidity levels in the incubator, remove eggs from the egg turner (or just stop turning them if you’re doing it manually), close the incubator and do not open it again until the chicks have hatched. This is done so that the chick has the opportunity to orient its beak to where it needs to be to get out of the shell and also to keep the humidity levels high so that the chick can break out of the shell easily and not have difficulty. If the humidity levels are not high enough during hatching the chick can get stuck in the membrane inside the shell and basically is “shrink wrapped”. Typically, when this happens, the chick does not survive.

So, as I said before, I wasn’t prepared for these little ones to start making their entrance for a few more days so I hadn’t had anything set up yet for them. Heck, I could do it in five minutes so what was my big hurry?

I found out really quickly Monday morning when I stepped into the bathroom to check the humidity percentage and discovered a blue egg with a tiny hole in it. A “pip” or a breakthrough in the shell had happened and it meant that a chick was preparing to make its way into the world. I briefly glanced at the other eggs and noticed another blue egg had a tiny amount of shell protruding from the smooth surface of that egg.

Two eggs were preparing for hatching and it was TWO days early!

One might not think a couple of days is a big deal, but it can mean the difference between a chick surviving and dying while incubating as it is those final three days that the yolk is absorbed into the chick. Yolk fully absorbed the chick is hatched with a closed abdomen and scampers around. Yolk not fully absorbed and the chick either doesn’t hatch at all or hatches with an open abdomen and passes away soon after. It’s a crazy delicate balance.

You can see why I was beyond concerned that there was hatching going on. 

I had no choice though but to let things be and headed to work. All the while thinking of what I would find when I got home later that afternoon.

When I arrived home, I quickly ran to the bathroom to check the incubator and saw one chick stumbling around the unhatched eggs, still a bit damp from hatching but noticed that the egg with the tiny hole hadn’t made much (if at all) progress. At this point it had been roughly 15 hours since I first noticed the hole.

Needless to say, this mama got incredibly concerned.

I waited one, two, two and a half hours – fretting that I shouldn’t step in and try to help the baby out, but I knew that each hour that ticked by the baby was getting more and more exhausted and from what I could see of the membrane that was poking out of the shell, I was pretty sure the membrane had dried to

the point of “shrink wrapping” the chick.

There would be no way this little one would be able to make it out on its own. It would surely die if I left it, but it could die if I helped it.

Hands shaking, I removed the egg from the incubator and slowly, s-l-o-w-l-y, started to peel back shell and dried membrane.

One of the biggest causes of death for helping a chick out of the shell is bleeding and I kept watching for the tiniest sign of blood that would have caused me to immediately stop prying this little one from its calcium coffin.

I was fortunate. I only saw the tiniest amount of blood and was able to get the chick to the point that it was still cocooned in its shell but could break free if it just kicked.

Worried and stressed, I put the little one back into the incubator and stepped away for another hour. Hopeful that the other hatched chick’s peeping and prodding would encourage this little one to try and fight.

A miracle happened yesterday.

The chick rallied and when I stepped back into the bathroom I saw the little head shaking but rising and saw it try to get its feet under it. It wanted to fight, it wanted to live. Heaven would not gain this little one back this time.

Twenty-four hours later the two chicks are still going and I pray that it continues. I know that anything still could happen and has happened in the past, but for now I’m going to be thankful and realized how very blessed my household was last night to witness that miracle. 

Mother Clucker as an Actress?

This Mother Clucker has been busy. I recently decided to stretch my comfort level and audition, through urging from some friends, for a musical that my community’s local theatre group was putting on. The musical was based on a popular 1980’s movie called 9 to 5 starring the lovely Dolly Parton, Lillian Tomlin and Jane Fonda as the three women (to quote from the musical, W-o-m-Y-n) who have had enough of their sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical, bigot boss, Mr. Franklin Hart, and show some girl power to stand up for women’s rights in the workplace.

I’m a karaoke junkie by night and thought – ah heck, we’ll see what happens. I auditioned using a spoken line from the song “Cell Block Tango” (no, not chew – pop!) because it was honestly the only line that I could hurriedly memorize and not forget and then sang one of my canned karaoke standbys which I could also do without forgetting, “Crazy” by Patsy Cline. The audition was mediocre at best. I had zero confidence that I’d get cast in any role but maybe a stand in as a background singer. Thanks to a good friend (thanks Steve!) who saw more in me than I saw in myself – he urged the director that I would probably be a good fit for the role of “Rosalind Keith” or “Roz” as she is known in the musical. This friend had heard me belt it out during summer evenings at the brewery and tossed me into the role. He knew I would love it though at the beginning I wasn’t so sure.

Rehearsals began early December and went three nights a week for 2-3 hours each. Of course, at the very beginning several members who were originally cast found that other commitments pulled them from their time with the theatre and suddenly the Director and Assistant Director were scrambling to fill those spots.

At the same time all of this was happening, I worried that the Director was thinking she had made a mistake in casting me in the role and I remember one evening sending a tear soaked text to my friend saying that I didn’t think I was cut out for the role – that someone else could have done a better job than me.

He wasn’t having it – telling me “Trust me. Stacey does not make decisions that she is not sure of – her only question was if you were good in front of a crowd. She is in love with your voice and you are the perfect Roz. Those are her words.” I stopped. I had to trust him that what he said was true. I had spent my entire life doubting what was actually said by folks and, yes, Steve could have been filling my head with utter Tom Flockery, but this was going to be my role and I was going to work my hardest to make it the best that I could.

Farm life took a bit of a backseat during the 12 weeks or so of rehearsals. I rushed home from my day job to hurriedly feed dogs, cats, chickens, collect eggs, fill water when needed and collect grain from the brewery to bring back to feed to the chickens. This went on three times a week for 12 weeks! I was absolutely on a whirlwind to get it all done and I, shockingly, seemed to do it! Thankfully, no one critter died or (to my knowledge) suffered in my sporadic time at home and, because it was winter, there weren’t any gardens to till, nor supplies to ready for Farmer’s Market, etc.

Once we made it through Tech Week Hell (no matter who you work with, or what theatre company you work with – it’s always hell), I got up on stage that first night and those lights! I felt their warmth and the warmth of 224 (or so) people looking at me and I surprised myself that I wasn’t nervous. Maybe wrangling all of those chickens these past few years have taken some of the fear away that someone would look at me and laugh. I’m already a Mother Clucker so what else was there to make fun of? Besides, my character was supposed to bring laughter so this was perfect!

It's been a few hours since my feet last hit the stage and the set has been torn down and put away. I’m hearing buzzings of compliments here and there about the musical from those who attended and others who say they wished they had gotten tickets. 

It’s been a great ride.

My character was truly a character and I’m thankful that this Mother Clucker decided to go through with it. I just needed a little shove into the limelight to truly appreciate what a gift this production was. The people I worked with and now know I am forever thankful for. My biggest thanks go to my friend Steve for seeing more in me than just a crazy chicken farmer. J 

Photo credits to the talented Zach Spicer of The Tribune