Chickens 2.0

After we lost our small flock to a cougar several years ago, John and I dreamed of having hens again. But as the months, then years went by, we grew accustomed to not having our girls’ entertaining company, or the freshly-laid eggs they gave us. We learned not to be quite so haunted by their absence, and the way we’d lost them.

Just recently, our neighbors decided to start a flock of laying hens, starting with chicks. Knowing we once had hens, they asked us, “Would you like a few?”

Are you kidding? John and I jumped at the chance to have more laying hens. And this out-of-the blue opportunity seemed like our getting chickens again was Meant To Be. The plan was, our neighbors would set aside 4 or 5 chicks, raise them for 8 weeks, then they’d be ours. Only we had one very big problem…

Our chicken “compound” of the coop and run was a disaster.

Those first weeks and months after the hens were killed, we were too sick at heart to keep the area cleared. And the whole place quickly went feral. As the weeds grew, the chore of weeding seemed more and more overwhelming. Pretty soon, we just gave up. And as the six-foot high fireweed and thimbleberry turned to a dense jungle, the whole chicken
compound seemed like a lost cause.

Scary coop entry area

But now that 5 young chickens will soon grace Berryridge Farm again, we have a lot of work to do. The two pics below are the chicken “exercise” area that John cleared a month or so ago, and the pile of brush he yarded out. The photo at right, taken yesterday, is the coop area/run that I’m taking on.

Semi-cleared chicken area

It’s not going to be pretty.  Watch for more about our chicken reboot, coming soon!

Brush pile

Apple Pest (yet another one of the Devil's Spawn) Plus a Free ebook!

Just when I thought it was safe to go outside...

When the wildfire smoke finally cleared, it was time to harvest our champion apple tree, the Akane. This is the one tree that faithfully bears every year, with beautiful fruit and great flavor and crunch, and no whining, sniveling or apple scab! So John and I ventured to our orchard with several big boxes and started picking, already tasting our homemade applesauce and apple crisp.

However, for the first time in the 8 years of bearing, the fruit was covered with little dots, with sort of dimples all over the apple. Well, growing without spray, John and I are accustomed to less than pretty apples, so we figured no problemo. I was so ready for my first taste of the season, so I washed an apple and cut it in half to share with John. I could feel the apple's crunchiness as I wielded my knife, but as the apple fell into two halves, my heart sank.

Coddling moth damage

The middle was full of trails of reddish-brown stuff.

Thanks to Ciscoe Morris, gardening columnist for The Seattle Times, I knew what I was looking at. Those of you who have read Little Farm in the Foothills know what I mean when I write "stuff" in italics. For the uninitiated, stuff in this sense means poo. To be precise, coddling moth poo. Orchard pros call it "frass" but why put lipstick on a pig, I ask you?

For some reason, I thought coddling moths wouldn't find Berryridge Farm (the same hope I'd entertained about cabbage moths but was destined for disappointment). Anyway, we ended up giving the crop to my sister who has 3 horses, who don't care if their snacks are frass-filled. I'm not sure what we'll do about next year's crop--we won't spray, and while I've read about securing a plastic bag around each apple, that seems extremely high maintenance. Not exactly our style, so I'll keep you posted.

In the meantime, we have 3 huge honeycrisp apples on one of our baby trees, and so far I don't see any dots. John and I will have to draw straws as to who gets the third apple!

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On a positive note, I wanted to share my redesigned web site, www.susancolleenbrowne.com, where you can find a special offer: a free copy of my short story The Secret Well, part of my Irish Village of Ballydara series...I hope you'll take a look!