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Sunday, August 19, 2018

Rain, Pain, Death and Life

It has been a hot, dry summer thus far, so when the forecast said rain in a reasonable quantity and the elements delivered, we did not fuss. Yesterday was one such day with nearly an inch of rain -- much more than what has usually come on days when it was forecast. Seems for some reason, as the storms move in from the west, they part as they approach our farm and the rain falls to the north and south, but less often here.

Despite the heat, we have been doing out best to continue on the things that demand our attention. For me that's been weeding, digging garlic and potatoes and for Tractor Guy... well his concerns have been on being called for jury duty this past week. Because of health and other issues, asking to be excused was not out of the question, even though his honor leads him to always try to be the best citizen he can be. "Democracy is a participation sport," he says. The timing of the receipt of the notification and the requirement for offering doctors' letters, and the time required to obtain such written opinions were not on his side and so he planned to be prepared to serve, despite having to travel nearly 2o miles, without having any personal transportation. I was prepared to clear my weekday schedule for the next two months to make this possible, but since his first meeting at the courthouse was only half a day, I planned to do our major shopping and run some other errands while he was occupied.

Little did we know that the clerk of the court, despite what was written in the letter from the count, was willing to accept requests to be excused on that half-day orientation day, and I had literally just barely dropped him off and left the area before he was excused. There is no place to wait at the count, and he had no way to contact me once I had left, so he -- on legs that barely work, in the bright sun of an uncomfortably hot day -- began walking to the only place in my afternoon errands that had both a location and a time. I was meeting an Internet friend for the first time, at a local restaurant, to hand her a share of vegetables. His only concern was to make it there before I left; in actuality he got there not long after we both arrived, after soaking up the shade of every struggling little street tree and lamp post (I have said that Tractor Guy is a BIG dude, haven't I... in more than one direction! The idea of there being enough shade from a lamp post to make a difference to his abundant body still blows my mind!) He made it, and by the time I got back out to the truck, he said he could finally feel his hands again and they were beginning to work, after swelling badly during the VERY long walk. But someone with his medical and physical issues cannot do that kind of exertion without having to pay the piper a very large fee, and I am pretty sure he's not all paid up yet, four days later.

This is what 8 fryers, cut into pieces and
chilling/aging in the fridge look like!
Nevertheless, and regardless of the rain -- which should have been the call for a low key, low activity day here in the house for both of us, since I got pretty well worked over by my massage therapist on Thursday and the physical therapist Friday -- I had set yesterday as the day to finish harvesting the meat birds. They have been ready for a couple of weeks, I have been "picking them off" a few at a time, but with the grower feed running short (turkey juveniles eat the same stuff, but there are only 2 of them so it will last much longer than feeding the gluttons in the meat bird pen) I said "today" for what I thought was the remaining 7 birds.

I had been processing outside, which I really like and which was one of the main reasons I picked up the free picnic table last year, but... rain. So my plan was to bring them in for skinning and gutting, and I asked TG to help, since he could do this at the kitchen table, sitting down. You may remember that this is not really his thing, but at the last "chicken plucking day" at our MOFGA chapter, he pitched in on the plucking and even had a go at gutting, which was much harder for him because large hands do not fit well into smaller fowl.

We skin most of our birds and cut them into pieces before freezing, and I have developed a method of processing in which I remove legs and wings and then cut the breast from the back, gently separating the halves. This leaves the innards right out in the open, laying on the back. You can not only easily see what you are doing, but it gives easy access to heart, liver (to avoid the gall bladder) and eventually the gizzard. I knew he could skin the birds and help cut them, and I have no issue with catching, hauling (two at a time), and the butchering, nor with any other part of the process... but I figured extra hands pulling on the skin would save my hands and energy enough to allow us to finish all 7 in one session. Normally I do 4 at a time.

Well... I miscounted. There were 8. LOL But we got them done, the last of that chore for this year. There will be turkeys though; the old hen will eventually be processed for ground meat, and of course Thanksgiving and NewYears -- the young turks -- have their appointed dates.

When I went out to collect fryers #5 and #6, I had the random idea to check in the chicken house, where a banty hen and a Langshan hen have been occupying a nest. There were originally 12 eggs; one got pushed out and was obviously bad (exploded when I threw it out into the field) but every couple of days an egg has disappeared with nothing to show for it. I have been wondering what's up. We do have a rat problem, so they are a concern, both for eggs and potentially for newly hatched babies.

When I disturbed the banty, who was on the eggs this time, I heard cheeping! Baby sounds... but no baby to be seen. I looked all over, inside and out, tried to peer into rat-carved depressions in between the slats of the pallet walls, but found nothing. I suspected that one might have hatched and fallen into a hole, but not been found by a rat, so I asked TG to go out with me and to bring a shovel to excavate next to the holes in hopes of liberating the chick, if we were still able to hear it. He did, and
New baby, under the heat
lamp, now dry.
Yep, it's a banty!
Though Tractor Guy's
hand are big!
we did hear the insistent calling even before I disturbed the hen, but he had barely got started digging outside when a little black chick bolted from under mama towards me and got pecked at by the little hen! The little one was not yet dry, so must have just gotten free of the egg.

I had been planning to move both banty mom and her nest into the house, away from rats, while she attempts to hatch the remaining half a dozen eggs, and now I was worried about the holes and whether the inexperienced young hen might injure the baby, so I handed it to TG to bring in and warm, while I collected the last of the chicken harvest.
Mama Banty on her nest, which I moved
inside, into a tote, currently in the
bathtub, curtain drawn for privacy.

I moved the nest and hen later in the evening, and left the little chick nestled in mulch hay, in a bucket, under the brooder lamp.

Before moving the hen, though a bath was in order, once the messy work was done.