Chicken Coop finale

The three year chicken coop project is done.  Done I say!  I can cross this fully off my to-do list.
The coop had a previous life as a very wee little home for someone, most likely a farmhand.  I have records of the builder's wife (in 1904) moving to a "small house on the property" when the husband died, leaving my house vacant.  I don't think she moved into this.  There is still a wood burning cooking stove rusting away in the corner...

When I bought the farm four years ago, they gave this structure no value.  What a surprise.

 This is the siding removed for repairs. And a lot of repairs were needed : the siding was rotten ground up, the corner posts were rotten, the roof shot, the eave supports rotten, and no foundation for the whole thing. I thought of going to Home Depot and buying a prefab shed as a chicken coop, it would have been damn cheaper. But after looking at the lumber used in this (other than the siding!) I thought this was worth saving.  And now the coop will be home to 50 more years of chickens. 

 Regarding chickens... these two are Glory and Fred.  They moved here this summer from the humane society when we had a bumper crop of rats RATS living under the coop.  After 11 days there were no more rats.  The tabby is in particular an excellent hunter. Alongside our little black cat Bella the two of them cleaned up the rodent issue.

Rats in the chicken coop

We completely rebuilt the 1950's coop this year.  I toyed with tearing it down and building another but we looked at the lumber and realized the framework was milled on site and still good so we just gave it a new roof, new siding and new windows.  And I guess we also gave it a healthy population of rats.  I cannot quite express how much I dislike rats running across my open-toed shoes in the dark. Where I could feel their little toes running across mine. (insert squeamish high pitched scrinchy faced BLECH here from a woman who is never squeamish or high pitched)  In all honesty I am sure the rats were always there but we just made their home so much more conducive to good health and breeding that they run in front of me drunk with chicken feed and water.  I am declaring an all out war.  Traps. Poison. I am not a gun person but if I was I'd be sitting in a rocker with a shotgun waiting for them. Shotgun? Rat? Can we say overkill? Not when they run across my toes in the dark.  I will try not to look at their faces however.  Because to tell you the truth they have very cute faces and I don't want to have any second thoughts.  Rats make me consider getting rid of chickens.  Seriously.  But first I have to try the war thing.  Maybe more cats, too!  The unfortunate thing is this coop is closer to my neighbors house than mine -- I really don't want them heading over there. 

I wish a Javier for all of you...

Pic: My chicken coop- before it got the face and foundation lift--and before it got a new fence. 

My coop. My sad lovely little chicken coop.  Made from milled on-site lumber... a 2x4 is really 2" by 4".  Javier said it would be cheaper to fix this one than build anew.  And now, looking at what he has done... I agree.  If Javier ever retires, I am going to sell my house, since I will not be able to do all the funky maintenance that it seems to require!  I am just kidding, but truthfully, to find an honest, reliable, no BS, tells you when he doesn't know something, inexpensive handyman is a dream.  Can you believe someone used to live it this little house?  It's foundation is a thin rim of bricks that are shattered and broken, the wood floor (still solid) now resting on dirt. The windows are haphazardly cut through rotten siding, and three of the four corner posts are not touching the ground because they are rotten.  Fun, huh? 

Always the house

Three days after my stroke my handyman Javier came over. (With his cousin, Javier). I heard the kids dad talking in low tones to him, probably about me being sick, and sending him home to Seattle....when I moved out of the prone position and told him to come on in! I wasn't going to pass up work hours for a stroke!
That day they finished trimwork in the living room and bathroom, and wainscoting in the other bathroom. I am sure they did other stuff, but I forget.
That same weekend a predator broke into the chicken coop and killed two birds. It is always the nice friendly fat birds they get. I have not lost a buff orpington to natural causes yet.
In the chicken coop, amiable and gentle gets the short end of the stick.

Staying the course in chickenworld

This will be the first spring we bring no new chicks to the place. My girls are laying great guns, their fence and roof are both bad, so need to focus on that rather that cute little peepers. It will be so hard walking by the chicks at the feed store... especially if they get in russian orloffs or lakenwelders. I will be strong.
Pics: Five chicken butts are enough for me. 1 buff orpington (favorite breed to date, round, happy, friendly, quiet, crazy egg layer), 3 golden laced wyandottes (round, busy, friendly but not overly so, cautious, good flyers) and 1 welsummer (loud, slimmer more dainty chicken figure, narrates all your movements with a wary tone and warning-- as if saying "I don't know about that, I don't know if you should be doing that, Be careful there", humorous, good flyer)

Chicken Update

The golden-laced wyandottes that we ordered this spring are almost grown up. They are past the awkward teenage chicken years. Now they are pullets but sound like baby chicks. I had a friend take care of them when I was in Michigan, and she said she kept looking around for baby chicks and then realized these big pullets were 'cheeping.' We have five. One bit the dust when we first brought them home.

Our one year old welsummers are but two. The red-tailed hawks swooped on a couple, and a neighbor dog got the other. They are more cautious and smart about running loose, but obviously no match for birds of prey and out-of-control dogs. One welsummer has decided she needs to sit on her nest and hatch unfertile eggs. We can all feel somewhat motherly and withdrawn at times, so I am going to let her work through her broodiness. My neighbor told me to surround her with a cage including food and water, and after about a week she will want OUT. I am just going to let her do her chicken thing. Her former partner-in-crime hen has been hanging around the front door. I frequently pick her up and carry her around when I do my outside jobs, since she is alone due to her broody friend. She seems to like the company. I had no idea chickens were 'breedists'... they definitely hang with their own kind. I try to get them to integrate and be compatriots with all their chicken brethen, but some things are just not to be messed with. I do notice similar temperament breed chickens hang together happily. Such as the buff orpingtons and the wyandottes. Those slow round easy-going types. Should I be offended that the welsummer hangs with me? Omigod. Am I a pea-brained colorful feathered loud sqaukin' spotty-egg layin' chicken type? Dang.

Welsummer Chickens Part 2

The welsummer chickens we waited for all last summer at our feedstore arrived and grew up. Three of the six disappeared through various minifarm mishaps. Don't make me type them out loud, even though I was not bonded to them like our old handraised biddies, it still wells my heart.
Overall welsummer report :
They are loud. It cracks me up when they give the big warning hooty henny warning when I am walking across the yard. So I tell them "Shhhhhhhhhhhh ! You girls are making a racket !" and they immediately close their beaks. Smart birds.
They are talkative, they fly better than any of our previous chickens, and lay beautiful dark brown speckled eggs. Our 4.5' foot fence will not contain them and I need to clip their wings if I want them coop and yard bound. I am glad we did not have these in the city, the neighbors would not have liked hearing their incessant fussing. The wyandottes and orpingtons do not make such a ruckus.
Next on our chicken acquisition list is to get the wyandottes again. Our one hen, Lainey, would set the pace for egg laying with the rest of them and we were buried in eggs from just three girls. We have 6 hens now, and there seems to be a couple dud chickens in there for eggs.
Oh -- and only get a golden polish hen if you need humor in your chickenyard. That girl is the dumbest all around creature I have met in a long time. Plus, she just looks rediculous with her fancy tophat of feathers and a total slacker in the egg laying arena.

House - In case anyone was wondering

There are a couple construction-reconstruction-restoration blogs I like to visit. They make me feel like I got teensy, wee, simple little problems over here... since they tackle giant jobs like : move walls, dig drain lines, realign foundations, yadee yada. When I post this picture, you will see the level of my talents. For my defense, I will say I was waiting for the vet because Bey is trying to colic, and so only grabbed things nearby to create this glorious repair AND it now is upright as opposed to broken. My restoration bloggers would have a beautiful right-angled, secure, isometrically balanced finished project. Mine is, well, mine is holding rotten wood with screws. Which is no small feat. Rotten wood does not like holding onto anything. Just let me bask in my puddle of brownish glory, okay?

Welsummer chickens

I decided to get welsummer chicks this year. They are rare and an old breed. We had to wait forever because many other folks wanted them also this season. That is how we ended up with the golden polish neurotic rooster and hen. The rooster would not let the new crew of 5 stay in the chicken house, so they slept in a pile in the chick cage until he departed for wilder environments.

I will tell you a bit about these little girls. Our other fave chickens we have brought on board for their calm temperament and egg laying aptitude. The Black Australorps and Golden Wyandottes and Buff Orpingtons are all wonderful fat birds. Nice and friendly and laid back... they even purr.

These Welsummers cluck and scratch, they have a hard time roosting on a perch (actually fell off the first time up) and like to sleep on the ground in a pile except for one dignified gal. They don't purr, they can honk like geese. The first time I heard it, I figured some ducks or geese were hanging around, and then I realized these wee hens were forcing air out of their blowholes (I am sure that is not the official name for their breathing holes, probably nostrils) and causing a big honking blart sound to be issued forth. It is their wayfinding tool to keep track of each other, they primarily do it when they are in their little chicken herd going over grass in the yard. They are more naturally cautious and seem more street saavy when running around the yard. They keep an eye on the sky, and seek shelter and lay low if anything suspicious pops up. They have good heads on their shoulders (for a chicken!) They are too young to lay as of yet, but we are expecting great things.

Rooster Tale

Photos: The young juvenile delinquent.

Last night Wilder and I did some illegal stealth maneuvering. Not entirely responsible behavior, but we were torn. Half our family will not let us eat the chickens we raise, and half does not like to be attacked by a big fluffy ball of rooster feathers.
This year we accidentally got a rooster. I actually considered getting a rooster -- one of the docile friendly breeds. Did that happen? No, we ended up with the neurotic, paranoid breed of chicks. (Don't trust your feedstore young men to know one chick from another) When you get the wee chicks at the store, they are usually in a straight run, which means "who the heck knows if these are wee hens or wee roosters take your chance." One of our new pullets turned out to be a rooster. Not bad in itself, I was not worried about it, but this one turned out to be the stupidest, crowingest, attackingest, glowing red eyes terrorizing the barnyard bird. He is lovely. Actually, he is lovely, reddish luminescent feathers, and long green black tail feathers. He has had a variety of names.... but as of last night he shall be known as "the wild rooster of North Kitsap."
I will say no more.

Chicken Death

I just read in National Geographic that I cannot call our chicken being 'taken out' by the neighbors uncontrolled dog as Chicken Murder. Murder is only defined as human oriented killing. Hence the title. I don't want anyone calling it the wrong thing. I was not allowed to post the grisly details on here about the demise of our sweet handraised black australorp Florida (Flo ) as per lovely daughter Rose. Suffice it to say, the characters in this story are neighbors, two uncontrolled dogs (pitbull mix and wolf mix), and a fat dog-friendly chicken.
We all know how the story ended. I know how my gun-totin' friends would like me to end it for the dog. This is the careful dance you do with permanent neighbors. I can throw up a fuss (which I did) and report the dog (which I did) but then I have to let it go. It is no good to pit neighbors against each other. Doesn't work very well. And, in essence, they are human and I suppose doing the best they can under their life circumstances. And we all love our dogs, even ones with issues. We had a dog that we put down in Seattle after exhausting all options of training and socialization. He was the best family dog, and loved Rose so deeply, but had been abused as a youngster and had a screw loose with strangers.
The neighbors know the ground they are walking on. I mentioned they could lose their house (some insurance companies do not insure houses with pitbulls or documented aggressive dogs.) I should note that comment about insurance went over with them like a load of bricks. Sometimes my helpful tidbits of information, are not so helpful. We can chalk that up to one of my "put a sock in it" moments.
WELCOME to my neighborhood.

Neighborliness (Neighborly-ness?)

The youth and I live in an old homestead. 1904-built former orchard and dairy farmhouse. Sometime in the 80's, that property was subdivided into 3 acre lots and sold. In the past 10 years houses have sprouted on those pieces, and folks have moved in. Now, this is just from me reading the plat maps and looking at the tax records. I have not seen it happen, we have only been here 5 months. But that is long enough to become immersed in the neighborhood psyche. Most women here are stay-at-home, and if they are not, the fella definitely runs the roost. Here I am, tall woman who still has her job in the big city moving in without a man by my side. I had forgotten the subtle threat that can be. The men only talk to me when their women are not around, or would truly prefer that they had a male in my house to be able to talk things over with. A gal pal and I would tease that I should wear a t-shirt... I Don't Like Married Men, or So Not Interested in Your Husband to put it out there. It is a small community, and most have not ever come over to say hi. Me being a big blab-head have made a point to say hi to everyone, and I have been over to their places. Hell, in our big city house we got a welcome basket from the neighbors. But I digress. There are three neighbors that are gold, and I have called on in emergencies, but a couple have let me know that they hoped I would take care of the neighborhood troublemaker dogs, being that I have horses and chickens. Because they all LIKE these folks, and since I am new they can throw me under the bus.
And yesterday, I went there. Right under that bus.