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Author: theMan
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Helping Feet
Just because it’s cold and the snow lies heavy on the hills doesn’t mean that I can stay indoors and not tend to the compost. All of January I’ve been collecting the bedding from under the roosts and setting it aside in a covered spot for a substantial compost pile. With the change of the months, it’s time to stir it all up and get it wet so that it can start to cook. Fortunately, I have plenty of feet wanting to give a hand. How people compost without chickens is beyond me. They are indispensable when it comes to stirring and mixing and turning compost piles. They get to all the bits you and your pitchfork don’t. If you look closely at a chicken’s feet, they look like small pitchforks. It wouldn’t surprise me if the first pitchforks were designed after chicken feet.
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You’re Never Too Old to Do It Better
Better, this bread is better than before. I made a loaf following the instructions I found in an article, Bread for Success on bon appétit’s website. I deviated from the article a bit, as the size of loaf that article made was twice the size I wanted to make. They were using nearly three pounds of flour, and I like to keep my loaves at one pound or less.
The other difference is that they use mostly regular flour whereas I use all whole wheat flour. They also used a machine to mix the dough, whereas I do the mixing by hand. I think the dough prefers to feel my hand mixing it versus a cold, steel hook. Wouldn’t you? Instead of moaning, “Ow! Ow! Ow!” the dough says, “Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!” when you use your hand. When cooking, it’s important to think from the stand point of the food you are handling. How would that food like to be handled? Does it prefer to be held this way or that? Touched this way or that? You want it to thank you for being kind and gentle. After all, it’s going to become part of you.
But, wow! The bread came out so well with a nice, crunchy crust, and soft, springy inside. Which goes to show, you’re never to old to do it better.
The process takes three days,
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Too Beautiful to Eat
Sometimes the eggs I gather are too beautiful to eat, especially the spotted ones. Large, commercial egg producers consider speckled and spotted eggs to be defaults. They want every egg to be the same. Perhaps the reasoning is that if everything is the same, you don’t have to make a choice. That carton of eggs is the same as every other carton of eggs, so you can shop without having to think.
Even these hens know that you can’t go through life without thinking and making choices. They know that one worm isn’t the same as every other worm, and that some roosters are better than others.
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The Trees Are Afire
The low winter sun sets the trees afire. It looks like the whole woods is aflame. The alders face off as if insane, waving their branches and twigs every which way, twisting themselves into untangable knots.
The cool, drizzly weather keeps the dandelions buds closed tight. They are one sunbeam away from exploding open.
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Off With Its Head
Three queens, Shiun-hime, Sunshine, and Svenda, up on their roost. Of the three, Shim-hime, exudes a most royal air. She looks down at me as if I am one of her countless subjects. You can almost see her fiery eyes commanding, “Off with its head!”
Svenda is out early this morning, enjoying a morning drink out of the cold flowing stream. The stream flows from fall through spring. The headwaters are just a few hundred feet away in the woods to the north. It’s pure rain water, flowing down through branches of cedars, firs, alders, wild cherry, and vine maples, filtering through mosses and ferns before running into the creek. It makes me wonder if Svenda can taste the different trees as she drinks. “Hmm, today’s stream has a heavy taste of cedar with a hint of maple.”
Ungetsu-hime is one of the many hens who are back to laying after their winter break. The basket gets fuller every day, a sure sign that spring is around the corner. Tonight, quite a few frogs are singing at the pond. It’s only January and frogs are coming out of hibernation. It’s a most unusual year.
