It's Official...

Summer begins tomorrow,
or so the weather forecasters promise. But we've been fooled before. And although the next week or so shows temperatures in the 80s (for the 1st time this year), Portlanders are wary. June 10th is later than usual to still have this much water falling from the sky and for the mercury to have failed to breach the 80 degree mark. We've had more rain in the first few days of June than the average for the entire month.

I know we aren't supposed to be surprised. We are supposed to love it because that's what make the Pacific Northwest so greeeeeeeeeen. But even we sodden stoics want to get out of our fleece and get our tank tops and flip flops on. Sheesh.

It seems the cartoon sun in the weather report is always 4-5 days in the future and by the time we get there the sun has been obscured by the gray cloud with diagonal lines. Following today's 62 degrees and showers we are being taunted with a smiling sun and 2 days in a row above 80 degrees. We shall see if the weather gurus continue their sadistic game of bait and switch.

In the silver lining department, it's great weed pulling weather. The soil is so soggy they come right out, roots intact.

But most of the plants are taking a beating and the summer vegetables and herbs are in suspended animation. Plants whose growth you can see with the naked eye under normal sunny, warm conditions, like beans, squash and tomatoes are frozen in time, as if encased in amber for eternity.

Of course everything will come to life tomorrow, when summer begins. I just have to have something to believe in. Please.

I Got Punk'd

...by my own chickens.

At some point this morning I became aware of a lack of squawking coming from the chicken coop. Usually they wake up eat a little chicken chow and start asking to be let out into the larger, open run. But this morning they were silent, ominously silent. I immediately imagined some awful carnage had taken place and it must be because of negligence on my part.

I approached cautiously and strained to hear any sounds coming from the coop. Nothing. I checked the latches and doors to see if any breach was visible. All appeared to be in order, but still no sounds.

Filled with dread at what I might find inside, I slipped the latch and slowly pulled the front door open, ready to fend off a sated raccoon if necessary.

And what did I find inside the coop? 1 warm egg and 3 calm, intact hens, with expressions on their faces as if to say "what?, we're just hanging out in the coop, why are you freaking out?" I think I saw one of them elbow the other and roll her eyes.

So I let them out, treated them to an extra big serving of cracked corn, as a way of acknowledging their brilliant prank. Pure genius, cunningly conceived and flawlessly executed. As good as The Sting.

2 Eggs Today

...and I almost got them safely into the kitchen. But not quite. Darn.

I dropped them both after some awkward ballet with the screen door and whatever else I was carrying.

Sorry girls, I meant no disrespect.

Got Cluck?

Just because I love my chickens and have not featured them recently.
They are lovely.













But they are whores. Crack (ed corn) whores to be precise. They happily give up their potential children, EVERYDAY for a taste of the grain.

Here they are neck deep in the crack (ed corn) bucket. Have you no shame?

Eggs are just ovulations. Without the rooster the eggs will never become chicks. the hens don't know this and sometimes they will become broody, sitting atop an egg or eggs trying to hatch it. The broody hen will forgo water and food in dogged pursuit of her goal. And she will stop laying. Thankfully, none of my girls have been bitten by the broody bug.

Question:

Are chickens smart enough to come in out of the rain?

Answer: Not mine

Time to go shove 'em in the coop. They can be lured almost anywhere with cracked corn.

This is wet Scarlet, kind of freaked out by the camera.

Heard Over the Fence

Now that the weather has warmed up everybody is out in their yards, where everybody can hear what you say.

I just heard an unidentified neighbor describe my chickens as LOUD.
And the neighbor behind me, who has 2 hens of his own agreed!

Of all the noive.

And then the first neighbor went back to rototilling, but quietly.

Jail Break

Last year, when I allowed the chickens to roam freely in the vegetable garden portion of the backyard. BIG mistake. I loved watching them, but they played havoc with the plants and made a huge mess of the gravel paths, scattering dirt everywhere. The chicken's main strategy is just to spread everything out all over the place, and keep spreading it out until they have eaten every bug, worm and spec of plant matter.

Once they had eaten all of the low hanging bean leaves they would leap to snatch bites if the higher leaves. Lettuces were defenseless, and cherry tomatoes were enjoyed like candy.

So this year I penned a 50 foot run along the back of the house for them to enjoy. The only plant they can get at is the Laurel hedge, and I'm secretly hoping they will eliminate it. They have plenty of room and I deliver regular shipments of sod, weeds, kitchen scraps and cracked corn for their enjoyment.

But last week Queenie and the Fonz managed to get into the Backyard Farm, where I had just planted chard starts and lettuce from seed. The lettuce had just started to sprout and the chard was still tender and delicious.

Not content just to celebrate their delicious, new found freedom with a leisurely, careful stroll amongst the tender chard starts and freshly sprouted lettuce seed, the monsters decimated the plants and left a huge mess to remind me who's in charge.

Luckily they didn't notice the peas, rapini and arugula, or maybe I just caught them before they had a chance to go to work on these plants.

Oh well. I've got more seed, so I'll start over and maybe fortify the fence between their side and mine.

Tour de Coops

Here's what I'll be doing next Saturday. Checking out the city chickens in Portland.

And then I'll be adding chickens to my own backyard.

More info here
Tour de Coops

Powered by ScribeFire.