Gallus domesticus

Chickens are winter’s true entertainment. In spite of the fact that cows would really prefer to be cold than hot, they seem to spend most of the winter lying down, standing up and looking cold. The chickens however, don’t seem to give a shit. I put a heat light in their coop when it is very cold (less than 10) but I don’t ever catch them basking under it. Maybe it really just makes me feel better. The chickens run around, making nests in the straw, looking for tasty bits of anything that got over looked the first time (mmmm … beets). They see how many chickens can fit in a nest box (4 is the most I’ve seen). And they hide their eggs. You might not think that there are lots of places to hide an egg in a chicken coop that’s 8X8 square, but they do a good job. Behind the grain bag, under the feeder, hidden in the straw (I haven’t stepped on one yet). They run outside to eat some snow and then run back inside and seem to generally have a good time. They are almost as entertaining as watching curling!

Here are some interesting old video clips about chickens wearing glasses:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x29GWpHFFkQ (an actual newsreel from 1947 about this)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lCTnrsaUY2g (a clip from "What's my line" involving chickens wearing glasses)

i don't spend a lot of time breathing through one nostril either

"In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, in the experts there are only few." In Zen Buddhism maybe and in chess, but not in farming. If you listen to the people at the extension (okay, maybe just some people at extension ... but my experience has been less than promising) they will tell you the best, the most cost effective, the most efficient, the *only* way to farm but there are lots of other people out there farming a totally different way. People grazing 5' high grass, people milking once a day, people mixing breeds and succeeding. These ideas come from experience and from adapting and from having an experts mind.

I got to reap the benefits of the experts mind today when I stumbled ass-backwards into someone who agreed to teach me to weld and help me build Lucky's cart. I had been wondering about the right place to buy angle iron for the frame. It seemed an expensive proposition, but cheaper than a tractor anyway. This person said, "why don't we go to the salvage yard and look around. You can buy metal by the pound there." I really never would have thought of it. It happens to me all the time - my partner will have a totally new idea. It comes from experience. The mind of every farmer I meet seems to be full with possibilities.

the day job

I explained my call to farming this way to someone once: "I could never cut it in a 9-5 job, so I found myself a 5-9 job." Which is witty, but not entirely true. I have a day job - I am the produce manager at our local food co-op. It's a good gig and I doubt I could find one better. I like having a job that supports small farmers while giving me capital to get my venture running at full speed.

But oh I feel jealous of those who have no off farm job. Folks whose morning chores aren't done in a rush and whose oxen aren't trained in the dusk at 6pm, under the yard lights. At least shadows don't freak them out anymore. Those whose grazing plan making sessions aren't interrupted with phone calls from sales reps. I suppose there are the feelings of pride knowing that right now I'm farming and building a house and working during the day and keeping all my plates spinning nicely. And, of course, there is the ever sweet anticipation of the awesome day that I quit selling other people's bounty and stick to just selling my own.

farm plan

When I lived in California February was spring. The trees would start leafing out, the sun would break through the fog and riding my bike everywhere would become a pleasure instead of a chore. But here, even in this, the kindest Vermont winter I've known, the rock hard ground has not yet begun to dream spring. Tree tapping and sap boiling are weeks away. It is still cold howling wind, build a fire, water's froze, chores in the snow. I open the door for the chickens on a nice(er) day and they peek out cautiously before the bravest barred rocks hop out. When I return with the thawed waterer, everyone is back in the house. The sun is out today but the forecast this week calls for snow, snow, and more snow.

And yet, hope springs eternal. My neighbor with the large vegetable farm has started his tomato plants. They are 2 inches high under the grow lights, a promise that someday it will be warm enough (in the green houses) for tomatoes. There is the upcoming trip to Newport for the syrup jugs. The seed catalogs and grazing plans and the endless possibilities of the upcoming season fill the evenings. The to do list looms long in my day planner. -buy asparagus crowns, strawberry plants, weed mat, -find fence tester, -work on lucky's cart, -call farmer's market manager and of course, WORK THE TEAM.

I know that just when it seems like spring will never come, the snow starts to soften, the sap starts to run and the race towards fall begins.