spring

I spent some time this morning in Ox, the cob house, and caught the sun coming in the moon window, infusing the bottles, red, green and white for the full, gibbous and new moon, with bright light and warmth. This time last year we were putting the finishing touches on the building, desperately trying to engineer a roof and coat it with final layers of linseed oil and beeswax. No more blue tarp! No more piles of building materials!

Ox has held up beautifully during her first year; minus all the pretty bits and bobs that were so tempting for curious hands to tug out, she is remarkably intact.

The garden has seen a lot of changes since Ox's completion; minus one big tulip poplar, the Earth Goddess vine hut and the labyrinth. Plus new garden plots, new chickens, and a reconstructed and replanted woodland.

Amidst and among all these macro changes, spring is creeping up in its usual micro form. The maples bloomed a couple weeks ago, and the sap started running. The maple in back of the garden house had a sap popsicle hanging from an upper branch during one of the recent cold spells, with various sapsuckers and squirrels visiting to lick this icy treat. The magnolias have been testing the weather regularly for a month or so, allowing one flower bud to open at a time until last week, when they found it amenable to all come out.

The chickens have accepted their new rooster and all but our two old sick birds are laying about an egg a day now. I think the change came when I let them out one day to help me scratch up some beds for spring planting. Sir Half Pint, as he has come to be called, was desperately bobbing his head up and down in the vicinity of a couple of red hens. After being pointedly ignored, he picked up the fat seed he had been so vigorously pointing to, walked up to a hen, drop the seed, and kept bobbing and pointing until she picked it up and ate it. This worked much better than the physical intimidation tactics he came with, and the flock seems at peace and intact.

The egg bound hen is back in the yard, showing no improvements, nor worsening for having spent a week getting special treatment indoors. She's getting along ok back with the flock, spending her days in the sun with the other old sick hen. I don't expect they'll live much longer, but they seem peaceful enough for now.

The after school programs have planted carrots, radishes and peas, and are working on getting the hives ready for the spring nectar flow. Finally warm enough to enjoy being outside, it's hard to get some groups back on their buses to leave when it's time.

And the surest sign of spring yet, more so than the magnolias, daffodils and crocuses all together, is that cleavers has sprung up, seemingly overnight. I saw no little sprouts, just full blown plants. I'm sure they weren't there yesterday....but here they are.

chicken drama

Last Thursday we swapped out our big barred rock rooster for a little bantam less than half his size--the old rooster attacks people, so he had to go (not in anyone's pot, yet, unless he doesn't reform his manners out at Mary's farm). The hens are less than pleased with Half Pint (in the photo with Boss Hen). He didn't make a very graceful entrance--came in and started attacking the girls, flapping his little body high up to try to slap them in the face. Boss Hen gave him what for, tearing out a chunk of feathers and sending him after the meek little black hens. Whereas the old rooster stood watch while the flock pecked and scratched, Half Pint fights for his food. The girls probably wouldn't let him eat otherwise. I think he has a Napoleon complex--he spends a lot of time chasing the hens around and hopping up onto high places to crow his tinny wind-up toy crow. He was trembling as I held him and carried him into his new home; it took a lot of bravery for him to storm in and claim a place. I'm sure they'll get used to each other soon enough, and he is a beautiful little bird. Beautiful and hen-pecked.

When Mary came to swap roosters, I asked her about a sick-looking hen. Egg-bound, said Mary. The egg won't come out. Treatment options? Range from sitz baths to hysterectomy. Oh dear. I took her home for the weekend, gave her hot baths (which she seemed to really enjoy), got oil down her both ends (lubrication is a crucial component to this issue--one blog actually recommended KY jelly. I used sesame massage oil). My roommates thoroughly enjoyed having a chicken in the living room for the weekend, and she does seem somewhat better, but still has a swollen body and hasn't laid any eggs.

This weekend, the Georgia Aquarium vet operated on a penguin with the same problem. Maybe if our little red hen doesn't get better we'll dress her up as a penguin and leave her on the Aquarium steps...