Of course, as I typed that, I just remembered that a friend on Facebook reported they just saw the HBO dramatization of "Grey Gardens" (which I loved), and is calling everybody "chicken" like Big Edie Beale. I need to watch this again ASAP, followed by the original documentary and then "The Beales of Grey Gardens", both of which I currently have on hand via Netflix.
ANYWAY...the framework of my new chicken house is up in my back yard. I went to the Habitat ReStore store and bought a used window (to be mounted sideways on the inner wall of the coop for easy cleaning, etc.) and a used door for the exterior. I'm putting enough dough into it that the guys building it are laughing that it's WAY too fancy for a bunch of chickens. I don't care, bear! I want them safe and secure, and I'd like it to be presentable. We'll see. If it looks like a pile of shit, it won't be for lack of trying.
So far, the mystery plant of 2009 in my compost pile is a potato plant, obviously from a rogue potato skin thrown in there at some point during the winter. This is a welcome surprise, as the past two years, there have been myriad tomatoes (from squeezing plum tomatoes when cooking, and this ends up in the pile) and some previously noted butternut squash (including last year's Audrey, which generated 12 squash, 3 of which are still on my dining room table). I'm trying to talk my parents into making a compost pile. The plants in the yard really love the results when it's added to their environment, much more than just chemical fertilizer. Plus, diverting all that sort of stuff really makes the trash a lot less smelly.
ANYWAY...the framework of my new chicken house is up in my back yard. I went to the Habitat ReStore store and bought a used window (to be mounted sideways on the inner wall of the coop for easy cleaning, etc.) and a used door for the exterior. I'm putting enough dough into it that the guys building it are laughing that it's WAY too fancy for a bunch of chickens. I don't care, bear! I want them safe and secure, and I'd like it to be presentable. We'll see. If it looks like a pile of shit, it won't be for lack of trying.
So far, the mystery plant of 2009 in my compost pile is a potato plant, obviously from a rogue potato skin thrown in there at some point during the winter. This is a welcome surprise, as the past two years, there have been myriad tomatoes (from squeezing plum tomatoes when cooking, and this ends up in the pile) and some previously noted butternut squash (including last year's Audrey, which generated 12 squash, 3 of which are still on my dining room table). I'm trying to talk my parents into making a compost pile. The plants in the yard really love the results when it's added to their environment, much more than just chemical fertilizer. Plus, diverting all that sort of stuff really makes the trash a lot less smelly.
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Date: 2009-05-04 02:21 am (UTC)From:no subject
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Date: 2009-05-04 02:37 am (UTC)From:I also love all your flickr botanicals!
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Date: 2009-05-04 02:38 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-05-04 12:50 am (UTC)From:My friend John, (
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Date: 2009-05-04 04:48 am (UTC)From:I had this vision of you dispatching them, and I was thinking, 'wow - he's so macho!'
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Date: 2009-05-05 01:13 am (UTC)From:I have been mulling the chicken thing, too. In Minneapolis, you have to get written permission from anyone that lives within 100 feet. One of my immediate neighbors is a doctor, and a bit tightly-wound: she will definitely bring up the avian flu thing, and I am already inclined to tell her to shutup, so I dunno. Also, I worry that I won't be able to travel at all.
I want to name my potential hens (in a way) after my mother and her sisters: Anna, Mary, Jeannie and Martha, only more antagonistically: I want to name them Annabald, Maribald, Jeannibald, and Marthabald. Like Archibald, only feminine. Sort of. So I guess, yeah, if a big part of the reason that I want them is to aggravate my family, maybe I should A) reconsider and B) grow up.
Will you flickr your progress? I hope so.
I have a big ol' rotating compost drum on a stand, because I am impatient like that, so nothing grows in there. Except sweet, earthy black goodness. When I remember to turn the crank.
Stuff is finally sprouting here (late spring this year) so I sit out there a lot and grin at the fern nubs and heuchera stubs. Life is good again, no?
Also: cam4.com: good lord. I felt like a freelance proctologist for a minute.