A couple of days ago, I had to write about a fluffy disaster and the terrible stench it created. But today, life is not so smelly and there is joy in Woolville. It took an arsenal of cleaning products to beat the stink into submission, I had to throw away some wool (always a difficult thing for me), and the bathroom sparkles like the sun. My hands and feet no longer waft pungent and I have moved on to other projects- Dying roving.
But I need to digress and get caught up on the good stuff of June. I got to go to Black Sheep Gathering (BSG) again. There were many things on the way, so it wasn't all about me, but it was good nonetheless. We met lovely people in San Jose, we laid Eduard's father to rest in a cool glen at Val's house and we found a nest of owls at the honey farm. Such good film footage, such nice people, such a pleasant week of travel.
At BSG, I got to work in the Wool Show, with the wool judge, Mark Eidman, I won first place on Max's socks, and bought 2 lovely fleeces. There were friends from So.Cal. and new friends from Ravelry, and lots of great things to buy- I did buy some, but I was careful not to over indulge. On the way back we had a great drive with Eduard's mom and Daughter. We were relaxed and happy, though it is a long drive. I was energized to get back into my wooly world even more than ever.
I have started dying again, not just for myself. I have several pounds of roving that needs a color coat and some packaging. I am hoping to get that out and sell it soon, so I have now completed about 14 packages of product. I am having a dye class in August and some of late July. And I am busy washing and dying fleece. Knitting, still doing that, but on a more "just for me" level. And knitting for Eduard, too. I want to focus on myself for a bit.
Yes that is what happens when I start having fun. I want to keep doing it. So you can find me in the kitchen- not cooking, not canning- but having a blast with the color blue.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
Way Wrong or why modern invention is good
I have many things to talk about lately. I have been very busy and done many wonderful things in the last month. But what I am going to talk about first is something that was way wrong.
As you may have noticed, FLuffy has a wooly obsession lately. I have purchased fleeces which I wash and spin, then I dye the yarn and knit with it. So this last spring, I bought 4 lovely fleeces from Descanso, and then in Oregon I bought 2 more lovely fleeces. I have finished washing the Black Shetland and a portion of the Columbia. I have always done just a bit at a time until it was all done, using hot water and modern, chemical, hard water tolerant detergent- Orvus. It really works well on the fleece and the plants tolerate the surfactant well. I dump the water on the plants when I can. So this year, I got caught up in a line of bull and I am sorry to say, "It Stinks!"
The old books I have teach about using water and Urine (Yes I am talking about Pee), to clean wool fleece. There is a soaking process and a long rinsing process and then the wool is spun for weaving with some of the grease in and then it is soaked in acid, and finally washed in hot water to shrink it a bit. Gasp! Well, I don't do that stuff. I wash in hot water with strong detergent, rinse several times, dry, card or comb and spin for knitting yarn. It is grease free when I start to spin it. And it is washed again when it is yarn. There is no acid, the vegetable matter is hand picked and carded out. This is modern efficiency.
So this process that was being discussed on Ravelry, is about soaking a fleece for 7 days in soft water so that it ferments. It is called the Fermented Suint Method (FSM). I had all this lovely Columbia fleece (because there was 10 pounds of it) and I thought I would try some in this method. I discussed it with others who had done it first.
Soft water- got some. Dirty fleece- got that. Big opaque covered tub- yep. Time-7 days or less- I started. After 5 days it didn't look like any fermentation was going on, but it smelled awful- it was supposed to. At 7 days I had to take it out and rinse it. So today, I laid out some screens and started to rinse in cold water.
The first thing that went wrong was I got a couple of drops of the soak water on my arm and hand. I almost fainted from the awful smell as I lifted the fleece out into a bucket. A few drops got on my foot. Then I hauled it to the screen area and turned on the water to rinse it. I rinsed for a long time and the fleece was absolutely filthy, not to mention stinky, and still greasy.
So now it needed a hot water, soapy bath, just like it always had gotten before, but with the additional fragrance. I hauled a bucket full of stink into the bathroom with my Orvus. Yes into the house bathroom.
I decided to use the shower so that I could pump the water out to the trees. The stench was nearly overwhelming but I got the first two bags to soaking in the soap and hot water. I tried to wash off the little splashes.
I took a shower in the other bathroom. When I was done, I still smelled like an exploded porta-potty, so did the bathroom. The other bathroom with the soaking fleeces was a toxic waste zone.
I am now on the second washing of both the fleece and me- I will have to scrub the entire house with windex to kill the smell later- the smell permiates every room. (Honey, work late tonight).
Oh, it doesn't stop yet. There is still some fleece that needs to be hot water washed laying on the screens. There is a tub of offal next to the back door, and a layer of sludge in the shower. Of all the times I have washed fleece, I have never had such an awful, offal experience. Never, Never, Never will I do this again. It was a terrible practical joke and I am sorry that I got caught up in it.
After I clean the house, and recover my sense of smell, I will write about the good stuff that happened, but right now, I have made a mess and I am busy trying to clean up.
As you may have noticed, FLuffy has a wooly obsession lately. I have purchased fleeces which I wash and spin, then I dye the yarn and knit with it. So this last spring, I bought 4 lovely fleeces from Descanso, and then in Oregon I bought 2 more lovely fleeces. I have finished washing the Black Shetland and a portion of the Columbia. I have always done just a bit at a time until it was all done, using hot water and modern, chemical, hard water tolerant detergent- Orvus. It really works well on the fleece and the plants tolerate the surfactant well. I dump the water on the plants when I can. So this year, I got caught up in a line of bull and I am sorry to say, "It Stinks!"
The old books I have teach about using water and Urine (Yes I am talking about Pee), to clean wool fleece. There is a soaking process and a long rinsing process and then the wool is spun for weaving with some of the grease in and then it is soaked in acid, and finally washed in hot water to shrink it a bit. Gasp! Well, I don't do that stuff. I wash in hot water with strong detergent, rinse several times, dry, card or comb and spin for knitting yarn. It is grease free when I start to spin it. And it is washed again when it is yarn. There is no acid, the vegetable matter is hand picked and carded out. This is modern efficiency.
So this process that was being discussed on Ravelry, is about soaking a fleece for 7 days in soft water so that it ferments. It is called the Fermented Suint Method (FSM). I had all this lovely Columbia fleece (because there was 10 pounds of it) and I thought I would try some in this method. I discussed it with others who had done it first.
Soft water- got some. Dirty fleece- got that. Big opaque covered tub- yep. Time-7 days or less- I started. After 5 days it didn't look like any fermentation was going on, but it smelled awful- it was supposed to. At 7 days I had to take it out and rinse it. So today, I laid out some screens and started to rinse in cold water.
The first thing that went wrong was I got a couple of drops of the soak water on my arm and hand. I almost fainted from the awful smell as I lifted the fleece out into a bucket. A few drops got on my foot. Then I hauled it to the screen area and turned on the water to rinse it. I rinsed for a long time and the fleece was absolutely filthy, not to mention stinky, and still greasy.
So now it needed a hot water, soapy bath, just like it always had gotten before, but with the additional fragrance. I hauled a bucket full of stink into the bathroom with my Orvus. Yes into the house bathroom.
I decided to use the shower so that I could pump the water out to the trees. The stench was nearly overwhelming but I got the first two bags to soaking in the soap and hot water. I tried to wash off the little splashes.
I took a shower in the other bathroom. When I was done, I still smelled like an exploded porta-potty, so did the bathroom. The other bathroom with the soaking fleeces was a toxic waste zone.
I am now on the second washing of both the fleece and me- I will have to scrub the entire house with windex to kill the smell later- the smell permiates every room. (Honey, work late tonight).
Oh, it doesn't stop yet. There is still some fleece that needs to be hot water washed laying on the screens. There is a tub of offal next to the back door, and a layer of sludge in the shower. Of all the times I have washed fleece, I have never had such an awful, offal experience. Never, Never, Never will I do this again. It was a terrible practical joke and I am sorry that I got caught up in it.
After I clean the house, and recover my sense of smell, I will write about the good stuff that happened, but right now, I have made a mess and I am busy trying to clean up.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Refocused
Fluffys Garden, fluffy... garden... fluffy, fluffy. Hmmm.
For the last two years, Fluffysgarden has been more about fluffy and less about garden. Part of this is because the the Wool Addiction and part is because of the chicken affliction. Well, chickens are fluffy in places, but they are mostly garden destroyers. I have not focused as much on the growing things because the little birds would terrorize the sprouts, roto-till the seeds up, and in general re-distribute the soil and mulch.
I had managed to scratch a bit out of the beds- tall things mostly and things they chickens didn't like. But this year, there are no more chickens. I am restoring the beds and planting great yummy stuff. We had lettuces, celery, carrots, peas, onions, cabbage, brocolli and fava bean already. Now I am planting the summer garden and hoping for some squash and long beans. It has been more rewarding to do this work knowing that the chickens are not going to dig it up. I had forgotten how much I love the soil and eating the fresh veggies.
The Wool Addiction is still going strong, though. It takes up lots of time- washing, carding, dying, spinning, knitting..and..weaving almost. This year, we drove to Oregon to the Black Sheep Gathering at Eugene. I spent two days in Wooly bliss- fondling fleeces, stroking roving, investigating blends and tools. I left with a car full of fleece, roving, honey and people.
Honey? that is not fluffy you say. Well, I have to admit that fluffy has a sweet tooth. I say I bought it for my husbear, but really does he need 60 pounds of honey? I also bought 60 pounds for my friends and re-distributed between Oregon and So.Cal. Most of them bought a 5 lb jug or two, but I buy in cases and get good prices for them. Thus, we have a year supply of sticky sweet stuff- a by product of fluffyness.
So for the fleeces, wools, blends, batts, fluff balls- I am re-energized in my Wool Addiction. I have been spinning up older projects to get them done so that I can wash and spin the new and exciting stuff. I am cleaning my drum carder and getting ready to address the last of last year so that I can get on with the new and knit with the old. I am passionate and inspired.
I am not yet ready to balance the Fluffy with the Garden. I think it will take the rest of this year to settle back into the garden cycles and get the beds re-organized. But I am up for the job and looking forward to a chicken free environent full of fluff and good eats.
Now, for a bit of greasy wool and some thoughtful spinning.
For the last two years, Fluffysgarden has been more about fluffy and less about garden. Part of this is because the the Wool Addiction and part is because of the chicken affliction. Well, chickens are fluffy in places, but they are mostly garden destroyers. I have not focused as much on the growing things because the little birds would terrorize the sprouts, roto-till the seeds up, and in general re-distribute the soil and mulch.
I had managed to scratch a bit out of the beds- tall things mostly and things they chickens didn't like. But this year, there are no more chickens. I am restoring the beds and planting great yummy stuff. We had lettuces, celery, carrots, peas, onions, cabbage, brocolli and fava bean already. Now I am planting the summer garden and hoping for some squash and long beans. It has been more rewarding to do this work knowing that the chickens are not going to dig it up. I had forgotten how much I love the soil and eating the fresh veggies.
The Wool Addiction is still going strong, though. It takes up lots of time- washing, carding, dying, spinning, knitting..and..weaving almost. This year, we drove to Oregon to the Black Sheep Gathering at Eugene. I spent two days in Wooly bliss- fondling fleeces, stroking roving, investigating blends and tools. I left with a car full of fleece, roving, honey and people.
Honey? that is not fluffy you say. Well, I have to admit that fluffy has a sweet tooth. I say I bought it for my husbear, but really does he need 60 pounds of honey? I also bought 60 pounds for my friends and re-distributed between Oregon and So.Cal. Most of them bought a 5 lb jug or two, but I buy in cases and get good prices for them. Thus, we have a year supply of sticky sweet stuff- a by product of fluffyness.
So for the fleeces, wools, blends, batts, fluff balls- I am re-energized in my Wool Addiction. I have been spinning up older projects to get them done so that I can wash and spin the new and exciting stuff. I am cleaning my drum carder and getting ready to address the last of last year so that I can get on with the new and knit with the old. I am passionate and inspired.
I am not yet ready to balance the Fluffy with the Garden. I think it will take the rest of this year to settle back into the garden cycles and get the beds re-organized. But I am up for the job and looking forward to a chicken free environent full of fluff and good eats.
Now, for a bit of greasy wool and some thoughtful spinning.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Jonesin' for the wheel
I don't often have this feeling. Tense, distracted, anxious, calculating, restless. I am aching to get a chance to spin. I don't often have this feeling because I would normally just sit and spin for awhile each week. But, it has been several weeks since I last spun. Too many things to do. Too much work, planning, packing, sorting, building, sewing, knitting, writing, cooking, calling, digging, washing, just too much stuff to do. Part of the planning was to get stuff on the sticks so that I had something to knit while we travel. I started three projects. In the process, I had to clean out some stuff in the wooly room and dig my way to the storage bed.
After I made a narrow path to the bed, the bags of fleece started whispering to me- "Spin me." " No! Spin me!" I took the Kiwi out and all my partially full bobbins. I plied until the bobbins were clear and put the Kiwi away. But the whispering didn't stop. Everytime I went into the room, the fleeces were rustling restlessly expecting to be taken out. One of them fell over and spilled a bit of fluff at my feet. As I gathered it back to itself, it called to me. "Touch me, feel me, spin me."
I gathered up the bobbins, the Joy and the fabric to make a bag. I got the sewing machine out and some sewing tools. I noticed that I was becoming tense and nervous in the room. But as I sewed the bag, I was not nervous at all. It was creative and useful and cheap- I was very happy with it. I started to fill it with the Joy, some bobbins, some tools, and some rovings. That is when the Jones started. Touching the roving made me very excited and anxious. I wanted to spin it right now. I wanted to unload the whole bag and spend the rest of the day spinning. Maybe into the night. Maybe all the next day too. Then I realized that the last time I actually spun anything was at the end of May. 2 1/2 weeks with no real wheel contact. The plying took but a moment and was only to clear off the bobbins. But real spinning, the feel of fiber slipping gently through my fingers, the soft smell of sheepyness, the gental whir of the wheel- it had been a long time and there was no time now to do it. I was packing for the trip. I would not spin for many more days. The anxiety was building and I started trying to find ways to sneak in some spinning- any spinning, even on a drop spindle.
That is when I realized I was Jonesin' for the wheel. I was in withdrawal. The fiber addiction had me down and writhing in discomfort as I calculted when I would next get a chance to spin. Friday night? Saturday at the meeting? Drop spindle in the car instead of knitting?
And the wooly room wasn't helping me at all. The color bottles and the white roving tried to convince me that there was time to dye a bunch for the road. The black fleece was saying, "Finish me, I am almost done. There is a sweater trying to get to you." My silk was making soft breezy sounds and the soy was reminding me that It was New and Exciting. What would I spin if I had the chance? I had packed about a pound of stuff, but I wanted to pack another pound- but why. I would not get enough time to spin 2 pounds of stuff. The Alpaca was saying, "Let me just touch you for a moment. You know you want to."
Yes, I want to. Yes, yes. No. I need to mow, and water, and do laundry. I need to cook dinner and pack the coffee supplies. I need to empty the car and wash the windows. I closed the door to the wooly room hoping that the phrase "Out of sight, out of mind" would help.
I am resting gently now. I am closer to being done packing and have most of the errands done. I am breathing softly and evenly and have clear thoughts. I will spin tomorrow on a drop spindle at the meeting- some white merino should be nice. Something thin and satisfying, and soft. Yes, I know. I gave in. But I just love the feel of the fiber.
After I made a narrow path to the bed, the bags of fleece started whispering to me- "Spin me." " No! Spin me!" I took the Kiwi out and all my partially full bobbins. I plied until the bobbins were clear and put the Kiwi away. But the whispering didn't stop. Everytime I went into the room, the fleeces were rustling restlessly expecting to be taken out. One of them fell over and spilled a bit of fluff at my feet. As I gathered it back to itself, it called to me. "Touch me, feel me, spin me."
I gathered up the bobbins, the Joy and the fabric to make a bag. I got the sewing machine out and some sewing tools. I noticed that I was becoming tense and nervous in the room. But as I sewed the bag, I was not nervous at all. It was creative and useful and cheap- I was very happy with it. I started to fill it with the Joy, some bobbins, some tools, and some rovings. That is when the Jones started. Touching the roving made me very excited and anxious. I wanted to spin it right now. I wanted to unload the whole bag and spend the rest of the day spinning. Maybe into the night. Maybe all the next day too. Then I realized that the last time I actually spun anything was at the end of May. 2 1/2 weeks with no real wheel contact. The plying took but a moment and was only to clear off the bobbins. But real spinning, the feel of fiber slipping gently through my fingers, the soft smell of sheepyness, the gental whir of the wheel- it had been a long time and there was no time now to do it. I was packing for the trip. I would not spin for many more days. The anxiety was building and I started trying to find ways to sneak in some spinning- any spinning, even on a drop spindle.
That is when I realized I was Jonesin' for the wheel. I was in withdrawal. The fiber addiction had me down and writhing in discomfort as I calculted when I would next get a chance to spin. Friday night? Saturday at the meeting? Drop spindle in the car instead of knitting?
And the wooly room wasn't helping me at all. The color bottles and the white roving tried to convince me that there was time to dye a bunch for the road. The black fleece was saying, "Finish me, I am almost done. There is a sweater trying to get to you." My silk was making soft breezy sounds and the soy was reminding me that It was New and Exciting. What would I spin if I had the chance? I had packed about a pound of stuff, but I wanted to pack another pound- but why. I would not get enough time to spin 2 pounds of stuff. The Alpaca was saying, "Let me just touch you for a moment. You know you want to."
Yes, I want to. Yes, yes. No. I need to mow, and water, and do laundry. I need to cook dinner and pack the coffee supplies. I need to empty the car and wash the windows. I closed the door to the wooly room hoping that the phrase "Out of sight, out of mind" would help.
I am resting gently now. I am closer to being done packing and have most of the errands done. I am breathing softly and evenly and have clear thoughts. I will spin tomorrow on a drop spindle at the meeting- some white merino should be nice. Something thin and satisfying, and soft. Yes, I know. I gave in. But I just love the feel of the fiber.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Hobbies or Nightmares
Sometimes it is hard to tell.
I love to try new things but I very seldom continue with the intense interest that is the hallmark of a new project or hobby. That high level of energy and time can just suck the life out of you and take over your whole world. And there are just too many things I want to do to invest all of me in a single, hobby black hole. Multiple black holes? Stop sniggering.
So, I love to spin and because I spin, I have great volumes of yarn. I wash the fleeces and spin, I buy rovings and spin, and I blend fibers and spin. I have a folder of beautiful shawl and sweater patterns. I am developing my own pattern for a leafy thing. I have books and tools and way more stuff than I can finish in a lifetime. I have a lathe that sits forlornly in the garage, covered with raw wool fleeces. Fleeces waiting to be washed, tools waiting to me used, yarn waiting to be useful, a garden waiting to be harvested. And what am I doing while all this is waiting- spinning? Well wouldn't that be nice.
Actually I have been obsessed with making a pair of socks to enter in a judged show in Oregon. The socks were too small for Eduard, so they will be for Max. A calculation error that made me quite annoyed. I lovingly spun a tiny, tiny thread to three ply for socks knit on size one needles. I have given myself a stiff neck, punctured my finger, and nearly gone blind. Did I mention this was a black wool? Yes, spinning and knitting black is very hard to see. I can only do it during the daylight hours. And there were cables. Just slap me. Big chunks of days have been spent on these socks- from spinning to knitting to filling out forms and documenting- so that I can give them to a 5 year old.
I want you to know that I actually love knitting socks, but not all socks are created equal. I did not love these socks. Now they are done and I am writing up the forms for the entry. I look at the socks and they don't look so wonderful or special. They don't seem like award winning socks, high quality yarn, or such a lovely design. They are well executed and sized for Max, but I am disappointed. They are not for Eduard. They didn't use up lots of yarn and fleece. They are not so wonderful that I can look at my waiting tools and other hobbies and justify the time spent.
This has been a nightmare pair and I need a break for a bit. I have some large yarn for making a felted pumpkin bag on big needles. I have some lovely hand spun lace weight for a beaded shawl. I have three bags of soil amendment and a waiting garden. I have a wooly room in a state of chaos and the house is in serious need of cleaning. I have 5 looms waiting for reconstuctive surgery. And, I am having dinner guests tomorrow.
I need to push my hobbies aside and struggle out of the gravitational pull so that I can get my house in order. Last night I dreamed I was walking through a park in Solvang with Eduard and I had forgotten to get dressed in the morning. I was strolling through town naked with my drop spindle, spinning. Usually, when you get the "naked in public" dream you feel embarrassed about your naked body. Not me. I was annoyed that I had forgotten my clothes, but talked to people about the spinning anyway.
So, today is a new day, the socks are off the sticks, and I am going to start cleaning the house. Laundry, kitchen, garden, bathrooms, living room. I am going to fight the urge to bring out the wheel, start another project, lounge in the wooly room stroking my stash. Really. I promise.
Edited update- Blue Ribbon, Max has the socks now.
I love to try new things but I very seldom continue with the intense interest that is the hallmark of a new project or hobby. That high level of energy and time can just suck the life out of you and take over your whole world. And there are just too many things I want to do to invest all of me in a single, hobby black hole. Multiple black holes? Stop sniggering.
So, I love to spin and because I spin, I have great volumes of yarn. I wash the fleeces and spin, I buy rovings and spin, and I blend fibers and spin. I have a folder of beautiful shawl and sweater patterns. I am developing my own pattern for a leafy thing. I have books and tools and way more stuff than I can finish in a lifetime. I have a lathe that sits forlornly in the garage, covered with raw wool fleeces. Fleeces waiting to be washed, tools waiting to me used, yarn waiting to be useful, a garden waiting to be harvested. And what am I doing while all this is waiting- spinning? Well wouldn't that be nice.
Actually I have been obsessed with making a pair of socks to enter in a judged show in Oregon. The socks were too small for Eduard, so they will be for Max. A calculation error that made me quite annoyed. I lovingly spun a tiny, tiny thread to three ply for socks knit on size one needles. I have given myself a stiff neck, punctured my finger, and nearly gone blind. Did I mention this was a black wool? Yes, spinning and knitting black is very hard to see. I can only do it during the daylight hours. And there were cables. Just slap me. Big chunks of days have been spent on these socks- from spinning to knitting to filling out forms and documenting- so that I can give them to a 5 year old.
I want you to know that I actually love knitting socks, but not all socks are created equal. I did not love these socks. Now they are done and I am writing up the forms for the entry. I look at the socks and they don't look so wonderful or special. They don't seem like award winning socks, high quality yarn, or such a lovely design. They are well executed and sized for Max, but I am disappointed. They are not for Eduard. They didn't use up lots of yarn and fleece. They are not so wonderful that I can look at my waiting tools and other hobbies and justify the time spent.
This has been a nightmare pair and I need a break for a bit. I have some large yarn for making a felted pumpkin bag on big needles. I have some lovely hand spun lace weight for a beaded shawl. I have three bags of soil amendment and a waiting garden. I have a wooly room in a state of chaos and the house is in serious need of cleaning. I have 5 looms waiting for reconstuctive surgery. And, I am having dinner guests tomorrow.
I need to push my hobbies aside and struggle out of the gravitational pull so that I can get my house in order. Last night I dreamed I was walking through a park in Solvang with Eduard and I had forgotten to get dressed in the morning. I was strolling through town naked with my drop spindle, spinning. Usually, when you get the "naked in public" dream you feel embarrassed about your naked body. Not me. I was annoyed that I had forgotten my clothes, but talked to people about the spinning anyway.
So, today is a new day, the socks are off the sticks, and I am going to start cleaning the house. Laundry, kitchen, garden, bathrooms, living room. I am going to fight the urge to bring out the wheel, start another project, lounge in the wooly room stroking my stash. Really. I promise.
Edited update- Blue Ribbon, Max has the socks now.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Hypothosis
Hypothosis- do fresh eggs from spoiled, free-range chickens taste better and can it be cost effective, while living in a suburban environment and using easily available support products.
Facts gathered- 1. Taste is subjective. The color of the yolk is definitely deeper and brighter and generally, the participants thought the eggs tasted a bit better. We do not possess the equipment to test for actual vitamin and food values so there is no attempt to prove that the eggs are actually "better" in that area.
2- Cost- Cage and pen materials $250, Dr. visit $400, cost of chicks $21, Costs of hay and bedding material $50, feeding equipment $100, food $240 ($10 mo.) Total - $1061.
We used PVC pipe, wire, chicken wire, bird cloth, steel posts and a manufactured shade tent. We recycled some equipment and lawn furniture for the roosts and nest boxes. The birds mostly ate wild bird seed mix and free range grass/bugs/down fruit/most of my garden. Medical expenses could be avoided by simply eating the sick chicken, but it was part of the learning experience to try to heal the poor thing.
Actual egg production- I didn't count every egg, so the number is an estimate based on the average number of eggs layed during their laying life in the experiment. There are periods of time when chickens do not lay- youth, brooding, moulting. One started laying at 5 months old, one at 9 mo. one at 7 mo. One layed no eggs while broody for 3 months, one layed no eggs while moulting 3 mo., one was an inconsistent layer.
Bieging- 60 eggs Q- 320 C- 200 Total- 580 eggs.
Apprx $1.83 per egg.
The experiment ended last night with about 3 pounds of prepared meat and a large bag of feathers.
Conclusion- chickens are very fun pets, lay tasty eggs that cost a fortune, make a mess everywhere, and get up very early. I prefer them to dogs or cats, but do not want to continue the experiment any further.
Facts gathered- 1. Taste is subjective. The color of the yolk is definitely deeper and brighter and generally, the participants thought the eggs tasted a bit better. We do not possess the equipment to test for actual vitamin and food values so there is no attempt to prove that the eggs are actually "better" in that area.
2- Cost- Cage and pen materials $250, Dr. visit $400, cost of chicks $21, Costs of hay and bedding material $50, feeding equipment $100, food $240 ($10 mo.) Total - $1061.
We used PVC pipe, wire, chicken wire, bird cloth, steel posts and a manufactured shade tent. We recycled some equipment and lawn furniture for the roosts and nest boxes. The birds mostly ate wild bird seed mix and free range grass/bugs/down fruit/most of my garden. Medical expenses could be avoided by simply eating the sick chicken, but it was part of the learning experience to try to heal the poor thing.
Actual egg production- I didn't count every egg, so the number is an estimate based on the average number of eggs layed during their laying life in the experiment. There are periods of time when chickens do not lay- youth, brooding, moulting. One started laying at 5 months old, one at 9 mo. one at 7 mo. One layed no eggs while broody for 3 months, one layed no eggs while moulting 3 mo., one was an inconsistent layer.
Bieging- 60 eggs Q- 320 C- 200 Total- 580 eggs.
Apprx $1.83 per egg.
The experiment ended last night with about 3 pounds of prepared meat and a large bag of feathers.
Conclusion- chickens are very fun pets, lay tasty eggs that cost a fortune, make a mess everywhere, and get up very early. I prefer them to dogs or cats, but do not want to continue the experiment any further.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Just say "No!"
Say it loud. Say it often. No more borrowing, no more taxes, no more outrageous spending, no more water wasting, no more gas guzzling, no more electricity surplus, no more trash dumping, no more, just no.
Well, this is getting serious, so I need to lighten it up.
Eduard and I are trying to figure out how much water our trees really need. And how many trees we really need. We no longer have enough water for non-performing test trees. So we are planning to remove the two avocado trees. One produces a not high quality fruit every other year, and the other has produced 6 since we moved here 8 years ago. Even after the chain saw discussion it just won't take me seriously. So this summer, we will cut them both into firewood size and let them season for the winter fuel. And there is the candelabra apple. Last year it had about 6 apples and the last one, in November was acceptable. But overall the tree is a loser. I would rather have the water for the other high quality producing trees. So that is three identified trees to the axe.
And then there are the chickens. Well, we will be doing some traveling soon and need to find a different arrangement for the chickens. So, Eduard and I are, uh, it is rather difficult to say, but we are in fact carnivorous people, so, umm, we are going to eat them. There I have confessed. It was the plan all the time and I need to keep to my commitment. Chickens for two years, then stew. So, that is the case and it will happen soon. Say no to chickens, for awhile anyway.
And then there is the wooly room. Just say no to more wool. Well, this is where I draw the line. There must be more wool, always more wool. I can't live completely austerely. I need some comfort items. I will have wool. And I will spin and make yarn and knit and weave and crochet until the entire house is insulated.
Sometimes, I just need to say "Yes."
The election is always a long hard day. I worked from 5am to 11pm and I am still really tired. So I am going to say yes to a morning nap, a hot shower, and a piece of chocolate. Yes, yes, oh yes. I will save "no" for later.
Well, this is getting serious, so I need to lighten it up.
Eduard and I are trying to figure out how much water our trees really need. And how many trees we really need. We no longer have enough water for non-performing test trees. So we are planning to remove the two avocado trees. One produces a not high quality fruit every other year, and the other has produced 6 since we moved here 8 years ago. Even after the chain saw discussion it just won't take me seriously. So this summer, we will cut them both into firewood size and let them season for the winter fuel. And there is the candelabra apple. Last year it had about 6 apples and the last one, in November was acceptable. But overall the tree is a loser. I would rather have the water for the other high quality producing trees. So that is three identified trees to the axe.
And then there are the chickens. Well, we will be doing some traveling soon and need to find a different arrangement for the chickens. So, Eduard and I are, uh, it is rather difficult to say, but we are in fact carnivorous people, so, umm, we are going to eat them. There I have confessed. It was the plan all the time and I need to keep to my commitment. Chickens for two years, then stew. So, that is the case and it will happen soon. Say no to chickens, for awhile anyway.
And then there is the wooly room. Just say no to more wool. Well, this is where I draw the line. There must be more wool, always more wool. I can't live completely austerely. I need some comfort items. I will have wool. And I will spin and make yarn and knit and weave and crochet until the entire house is insulated.
Sometimes, I just need to say "Yes."
The election is always a long hard day. I worked from 5am to 11pm and I am still really tired. So I am going to say yes to a morning nap, a hot shower, and a piece of chocolate. Yes, yes, oh yes. I will save "no" for later.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
