News from the Coop

On the nest…but not broody!

The other day, the bobcat was at it again.

I heard a big squawk through the closed window, and saw the cat was slinking around the top of the chicken cage. As I banged on the window, and John jammed his feet into his shoes and rushed outside, the cat leaped to the other end of the cage, still trying to get in.

As John neared the chicken area, the animal finally ran off. Miss Broody, sensibly, had high-tailed it into the coop. John hung out with her awhile, giving her a pep talk, telling her the bobcat couldn’t get her. 

When he returned inside, he said, “Well, I guess we’re just going to be running an old folks’ home for hens.”

I nodded glumly. With Miss Broody getting menaced and completely terrified at least once a week, with no other hens to keep her company, it was a sure thing: her laying days were over.

Two days ago, John showed up at the back door, his eyes sparkling. “It’s a Berryridge Farm miracle!”

“What!” I said eagerly, hoping against hope…

“We got an egg!” said John.  

I was grinning ear to ear. The hen hadn’t laid an egg since early April. So it really did feel like a miracle…especially when yesterday, she laid another one!

I’m sure the hen's laying won’t last. Although she's back to all her normal hen behaviors—eating with gusto, sleeping on the roost, spending hours every day scratching the ground—she’ll probably turn broody again one of these days. But for now, we’ll enjoy every single bit of those precious eggs!

By the way, I call her "Missy" now--leaving off the "Broody." I don't want to give her any ideas!

News You Can Use

I’m not big on labor-saving cooking devices: except for a tiny toaster and John’s coffeemaker, you won’t find a blender, stand-mixer, Insta-Pot  or any other kind of small appliance in our kitchen. But outside, I’m all about saving time and energy. Especially as I get older, I seem to have less of both!

And now that it’s June, after our super rainy spring, the weeds and brush on our place are insane.

We spent a chunk of our income tax on a new, heavy-duty weed-eater, perfect for attacking dense brush. And boy do we have a lot of that around here.  It came in handy after the bobcat’s last visit: John took down all the brush on the wooded side of the chicken pen, mowing down the thimbleberry that was concealing the cat’s approach.

John’s the shopper of our family, and he really likes to shop for homesteady stuff.

He found a couple more gardening gizmos that promise to make our outdoor work much easier. Instead of killing my shoulders pruning our fruit trees with hand loppers every spring, now we have mini-chainsaw for the job.

I never thought I’d use “cute” when referring to chainsaws, but this little guy really is! (It’s the little aqua tool to the right of John’s shoe.)

And the other gizmo is a “Susan-friendly” weed-whacked, a lightweight little tool that won’t strain my back, for spaces that are too small for the regular weed-eater.

(In the photo, John’s holding the big brush-eater. The small one on the ground is in 2 pieces—a lawnmower type base, with the weed-whacker unit lying on it crossways.)

Way back when, I mentioned our “Three Bears” shovels in my book Little Farm in the Foothills—our toolshed contained a Daddy Bear shovel, a Mama Bear shovel, and a Baby Bear one.

Now we can say the same about our weed-eaters… Weeds, Beware!