The Cedar Journal

New Home for the Chickens

The Cedar Journal July 14, 2020

In my last blog I explained that I had to sell two of my beloved chickens. What happened to the two hens I sold?

When selling any pet I am always worried. Am I selling them to a good home?

When the buyer came to the door to pick up the chickens I instantly knew it was the right choice to sell these hens, to this person.

With a smile from ear to ear he waved the cash at us and said he was here to pick up the chickens. The Hubby walked the buyer to the rear garden gate as I walked slowly through the house to the backyard. Preparing myself mentally to let these chickens go to a new home.

I could hear the pounding of clogs on the cement sidewalk as they approached the gate. Then that same smile lit up my back garden when the buyer set eyes on the chickens. His companion talked intently with the Hubby about this chicken lover who was buying the hens.

I walked the buyer over to the coop. His excitement at seeing how large the chickens were was infectious. My earlier worries and all my uneasy feelings now melted out of my mind. I smiled too.

I explained to the new owner that my hens eat out of my hand, he instantly turned to his companion and told her in an excited voice that they could be hand fed.

I caught the hens and handed them off to their new owner. He handled them like a pro. I was surprised. I have seen many chicken owners who had no idea how to hold a hen to keep them calm. This guy knew chickens!

We placed them in the box but not before Kipass had second thoughts of leaving our backyard. In the last flurry of minutes, she was caught and placed back into the box.

With a promise of letting me know how they fit into their new home and possible trade in the future for some small bantam chickens then new owner exited our garden. It already felt a bit empty with only two hens in the coop. But, I glowed with the warm feeling of happiness that I made this contact with a fellow chicken enthusiast.

Not long after leaving our house I received a message with an attached video. I asked the new owner if I could share this experience with all of you, and the answer was just as nice as the new owner. So enjoy…

Weaver in the arms control of new owner Bart.

Mid Summer Blues

The Cedar Journal July 13, 2020

Summers,when I was young, were never about vacation. Yes, vacation from school work, but work on a farm is never done and there are endless tasks to accomplish. July, then, seemed like the longest month in the entire year. Very limited contact with other kids and the never ending chores, made time seem to stand still. July still seems like the month of endless tasks.

For many years I never had pets, never had a garden, and only kept a few flower plants. I had good reasons, I didn’t want to be tied to the responsibilities or to be stressed with extra tasks.

A bright basket of flowers in my garden.

This summer is different, animal ownership and a full garden area I am experiencing days of endless tasks. Disappointment, when I walk into my beautiful garden only to find that slugs have had a feast on all my best plants. Months of hard work down the drain overnight!

My basil seems to be a slug favorite recently

Then there has been the weather. July has been wet. All rain after months of drought and heat.

The deluged of rainfall made my tomatoes bust open, making them useless except for chicken food.

One of my tomatoes that has started to split due to all the extra water this week.

Then there are my four beautiful chickens. The space at our place is too small for four large hens. Their voices of descent were heard constantly.

The flock fighting for slugs

Something had to change. It did this week. Two of the hens went on the market to reduce my stress. Through the tears of posting them for sale, to taking much less than I wanted for them, my flock of four became two.

The last days of Weaver and Kipass in our backyard.

That quick solution will hopefully put an end to my Mid Summer Blues.

I learned when I was young, that the best solution to the Mid Summer Blues (according to my mother) was to work on more farm tasks. If that didn’t stop our complaining, we were sent off to the rock piles along the farm field edges to pick wild raspberries. We were told not to return until we had enough to make jam. That always took a very long time as both my siblings ate as they picked.

So this week, when I needed to kill my Mid Summer Blues I picked cultivated raspberries. I rode my bike early in the morning to the berry farm, I picked raspberries in solitude, rode home and made jam.