The Fifteen Egg Omelette?

We've always had a soft spot in our poultry-raising hearts for bantam chickens.  They eat less feed than standard sized breeds in proportion to  the number of eggs they lay, and the fact that they often go broody and do a great job of raising their young is a real plus for us.

A year ago when we placed our order for some new chicks, we chose to include some bantams because our remaining bantam pair (one hen, one rooster) of Golden Laced Cochins was getting up in age.  We've kinda lost track but we know our hen is either 5 or 6 years old.

Sad to say, the hatchery couldn't supply the ordered bantam chicks, but in late summer, our dear old bantam hen went broody and sat on five eggs.  She succeeded in hatching out four of the eggs.  The picture above shows two of the chicks when a day old (and obviously camera shy).  Of the four chicks, glory be, they all turned out to be hens.  (Now that's a ratio you don't often get!)

Those four little girls have grown to nearly full size (for bantams) and are starting to lay eggs.  You all know pullet eggs start  small and work up to a bigger size, but these eggs give new meaning to the word "small." 

I wonder how many it would take to make an omelette for two people?  I know they sure would look cute dyed and in an Easter basket, wouldn't they? 

Rambles

Hubby and I both have been in a sorting, organizing and cleaning frenzy.  I think it has something to do with the knowledge that spring is coming (yes, keep the faith because it really will arrive) and in the not too distant future we will be outside working on projects 24/7 . . . so we'd better get crackin' and do what we can inside now.  Our efforts mean lots of things being hauled to recycling or locations for donation or stored to be possibly sold at a later date.  There's the possibility of Internet sales, plus daughter is planning on having a big garage/rummage sale this spring.

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I did a bit of sorting in my big freezer and was reminded that I still have all those cherry tomatoes in there that I need to make into either juice or sauce . . . or something.

There are two big bags of them.  Two big grocery bags of them.  I've been ignoring them all winter, but guess they're not going to get processed unless I do it.

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Last week I was trying to cut a bad spot out of an onion, the knife slipped and put a good slash on my left index finger right alongside the nail.  (No, I don't deserve any sympathy.  I knew at the time I was doing it  that the way I was holding the knife would likely insure disaster.  Isn't it funny how we know when we're about to do something stupid, but do it anyway?)  What I learned is that I use the index finger of my non-dominant hand one heckuva lot.  I had to keep it bandaged for a while but then decided it would heal better if I let the cut get some air instead of withering away inside that often wet, oozy-goozey bandage.  As a result, do you know how many times I've hit that healing cut and broken it open?  Who knew my left index finger was so active?

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We're gonna run out of wood before the heating season is over.  Hubby says, "No, we'll make it."  I say, ""We're gonna run out of wood."  This fate is befalling us for two reasons.  First, the primarly reason is we installed and are firing a second wood stove in the living room this year.  This means we're using almost twice as much wood right there.  Secondly, Chicken Mama is heating with wood in her new little cabin home and since she moved there in January, she had no wood supply so we told her she was welcome to haul dry, seasoned wood from our shed to her place.  We did this gladly (and know she appreciates it) and wouldn't have had it any other way.  Besides, we know (hee-hee, there's a method to our madness) she'll pitch in to help fill our two sheds with wood this summer.  (Believe me, that girl knows how to handle a chainsaw and will do her part.)  We have oodles of wood stacked in our back wood working area.  Although it's in 8' lengths and still needs to be cut, split and stacked under cover, it's not like we have no wood available.  And who knows?  Maybe Papa Pea is right and the supply left in the shed will get us through to warm weather.

Yeah, here's to warm weather!

Does This Seem Backwards?

Pictured above is the load of things I had to take to town with me today.

Nope, not the load I brought home, but that which I took when I left for town.

Took me 'bout ten minutes to load the truck before I left.  (Slight exaggeration.)  Does anybody else do this?

Just doesn't seem right . . . 

The Gal Is Capable

March is a month when we typically aren't surprised to get snow.  I suppose we could wish for these winter-like conditions in December.  Or January.  Or February.  You know.  In the real winter months.  I mean today is the first day of Spring, right?  Ha!  Not in these here parts.

The not-so-nice thing about this last snow we got is there is a coating of ice underneath everything.  A fact to which Chicken Mama can attest.

I snapped this picture from Papa Pea's office window this morning.  Dear daughter had just dropped off Tucker and was heading down our driveway to work.

The depth quality of the picture isn't good, I know, (and she was already halfway out) but her little red chariot ended up completely sideways in the driveway.  There is a sharp 90-degree turn to our driveway right before it goes into the heavy woods and out of sight of the house.  The turn is v-e-r-y slippery right now. She stopped crosswise in the drive with her back wheels just enough off the drive and in a snowbank to hang her up.
 
No problem.  She hiked back in toward the house, and when she got close her dad hollered out and said he'd suit up and come help.  She said thanks but she could handle it herself.  She got a small can of our ashes, a shovel and had herself unstuck practically before her dad could dress himself in all his winter regalia.  He got down to her just in time to wave good-bye and carry the ash can and shovel back up to the house.

This little getting stuck problem was nothing compared to what she's dealt with the past two-plus years when living alone out in the boonies at Swamp River Ridge.  Whenever I compliment her on how capable she is and able to handle anything tossed her way, she replies she's able to do so because we raised her "strong. " (Said with a grunt and show of muscle.)  I'm not sure that was a quality listed as Number 1 or 2 when thinking of the characteristics we tried to instill in her . . . but I'm glad it turned out that way. 

Sometimes A Dog Needs A Little Help

This morning our granddog, Tucker, asked to out into the front yard to . . . well, ah, um . . . check things out.

To do this he has to cross the deck . . . which he couldn't figure out how to do because there was two feet of cement-like snow most of the way from our house door to the steps down into the fenced in yard.

No, we didn't get two feet of snow.  Just around 4" yesterday but then last night we had high winds that blew snow into solid drifts in inconvenient places.

So understanding Tucker's plight, Papa Pea left his breakfast to go shovel a path for Little No-Legs to traverse across the deck.

"Thanks, Gramps.  I really needed to get out."

What did this born and bred Minnesota dog do when he had accomplished his early morning rounds?  Laid on the deck and enjoyed the fresh air and atmosphere.  Stiff breeze and all.  (Go with the flow?  Bloom where you are planted?  Make the best of the situation?  Tucker knows how to enjoy life.) 

The Pee Tree

I don't mean to gross anyone out with the title of this post.  Sorry if it bothers anyone with sensitive sensibilities.

On a recent snowshoe hike in our woods, we not only saw many wolf tracks but also came across this tree which the wolves (I'm assuming it was more than one!) used to mark their territory.  I'd never seen a tree completely encircled by multiple urine spots.

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This is what you get when temps are up near melting, then plummet, and it starts to snow.

We've had a steady snow most of the day today but only about 2 inches of accumulation.  The forecast is for heavier snow yet tonight.

When going out for the mail today, we were surprised to see the main road snow covered and looking fairly slippery.  The temperature must be at that particular point where the salt and sand spread on the road don't make for much melting.

We're glad to be home safe, sound and warm.  (Well, safe and warm for certain.)  And since our daughter no longer has the hour drive to get home from her work at night, this mama can cross that worry off her list.  Life is good!