Cherished Moments

By Linda Patton ~ July   15, 2015

I had a wonderful evening! The plan changed several times. After going back and forth, over and over, I finally said “That’s enough!” The home we had picked out for Waffles did not turn out to be in his best interest. I happened that another family wanted him very badly, but there was a catch – they didn’t have a car. After being strung along by the previous buyers, I decided that I just felt good about him going to live with the family that didn’t have a car. So my son and I loaded him up, and off we went.

He was so sweet, he laid his head on my shoulder while I carried him to the car, where a cage awaited. This boy was hatched in my chicken house under one of my hens and has never been off this property, much less in a vehicle. He looked nervous, and told me about it as I shut the cage door that waited in the back seat of the car on a tarp. You must also understand that this “boy,” although only 5 ½ months old is HUGE! I can barely get both my arms around him. He stood up and looked out the window, asking me what on earth we were doing. I comforted him the best I could and pulled out of the driveway.

       We would drive thirty miles to deliver him to his new home. On the way, we stopped to make a quick delivery at a friend’s. This family of friends has listened intently to every story I have ever told about my chickens. They ask about them when they see me, and they feel as if somehow they know them individually. However, they had never actually seen one in person.

       In retrospect, it might not have been the most accurate definition when I asked, “Haley, would you like to see my baby?” One by one, they visited the back seat of the car, which of course I left running for air conditioning purposes. One by one they gasped, “That’s not a baby. He is huge!” And my personal favorite, “That’s not a chicken, that’s a bear.”

       Waffles, a gray and white striped Standard Sized Cochin, his feet covered with beautiful feathers, his undercoat of fluff peeking out from under his slick gray feathers, making him softer than any teddy bear I have ever held, enticing you to snuggle your head on his neck for a nice long nap, his bright red wattles hanging half way down his chest, and his golden eyes sparkling as they take in every little detail of his surroundings, stood patiently waiting through each visitor.

       The stop took only minutes and we headed in the direction of the town still 15 miles away. Waffles was taking it all in, no longer upset. The music we turned on, may have had something to do with that. When I tried to turn it down, he would cackle from the back seat until I turned it back up. We pulled up in front of a meager home in need of some repair and a coat or two of paint, tall grass no doubt due to the quantity of nonstop rain we have been blessed with this year, and two dogs tied up out front. Only a few feet further, I noticed the chicken coop with a run full of the happiest hens I have ever seen. That would be his new home, his family, and more importantly – his wives!   

       We made our introductions and I passed him off into the arms of who would be his new farmer. He never once complained. I have no doubt that he knew better than I did how happy those hens were. And I am certain he could tell how much his new farmer already loved him. We were surrounded by such joy. The farmer explained to us that her chickens were spoiled. She stood out with them as they free ranged in case a predator should come along. She continued on to tell us that the dog closest to us, did not like people or other dogs, but those were his chickens, and he knew it. She told us how he would go in on occasion and lay down in the run while the chickens pecked at him or snuggled him. He loves it. How fun! Our dog Kaci has him trained for that, from the time his first feathers arrived, he shared her doghouse. All of our chickens do. Those are her chickens and she intends to take care of them. Waffles would be just fine.

       

       

        On the journey home, my son and I did some sight-seeing, stopped at a new grocery store along the way, and even stopped for a soda at a gas station. We said very little, as if each of us knew the other’s thoughts. I finally broke the ice, “This has been the happiest trip.” He agreed. Had it been the joy of the farmers that we visited, the happiness of the hens, the beautiful scenery, the short visit with friends, or would we ever know? We both understood plainly, this trip would be one of those times we remember forever. And for that, I am thankful. I love my son and cherish times like today when we share a common experience of joy. 

Begging For Breakfast

by Linda Patton~ July 12, 2015

I suppose with any pet the owner develops a certain dialogue. Chickens are no different. The amount of communication possible with your flock directly relates to how you treat them. At our house, each chicken receives individual attention, along with a handpicked name relating specifically to her personality. To be honest, I spoil them rotten. They eat out of my hand, sit on my shoulder, and stand at the gate saying, “Wawk! Wawk! Wawk!” when they want to go for a walk with me.

I have had five people send me pictures of chicken harnesses. I always respond the same, “Who needs a harness? My girls follow me everywhere.” And they do. When I walk out the door, they come running, and will follow me all throughout the woods. They don’t even need treats to enjoy the walk They enjoy the adventure of searching through the woods finding whatever bugs and other delicacies await them.  I will admit the chicken stroller photo that someone sent me the other day is tempting. I have wondered about taking my girls to the park, or a parade. I think they would love it. Lacy, a beautiful, large, gold-laced Cochin hen, sat on my mother’s lap in the front seat of the car all the way to town. She watched the world pass by with great wonderment. She was on an adventure and she intended to enjoy every second. When we tried to get her to lay down, she would inform us that she intended to see the world and she couldn’t do that laying down.

This morning, I let the girls and all 19 babies out as usual. I put hen scratch in a variety of places for them to find, I filled their outside feeders, filled their water, and talked to them as I do first thing every day. Chloe came waddling up to me with her two little babies peeping close behind her. She hopped up on a board, looked up at me, and made some chicken noises. Once positive that she had my full attention, she looked me in the eyes, took her beak and very…slowly…drug it back and forth across the ground. I knew what that meant. When they rub their beaks on the ground it means “Would you please bring us some of that sloppy stuff that gets all over our beaks?”

Yes, I most certainly do fix my chickens breakfast. Not every day, but occasionally, at times more often than others. However, they never tell me slowly like she did. I am pretty sure she was saying it as though she feared I might not understand, and she really wanted some porridge. I have refrained from giving them any in the last couple of weeks, due to the unexplained deaths of two little ones. I am almost positive that they choked and I’m not taking any chances. Who could resist that begging? Not me! I rushed inside and cooked them some oatmeal and scrambled eggs. It will take a while to cool, then I will go put it in all of their little chicken dishes and make certain that everyone gets some. In the heat of the afternoon, I will treat them with the frozen watermelon pieces that I have in the freezer. That will keep them cool, and give them something fun to do. When they are all done eating, they will come up next to me and sing. Chicken singing is so amazing.

Yes, I spoil them rotten. Yes, I take a lot of time with them. No they don’t have to have that much attention, but I can’t imagine my life without them.  

Things to Do Without Electricity

By Linda Patton ~ July 11, 2015

Today I read Kristian Hansen’s Blog Post “Things to do Without Electricity” and it inspired me. I think it would be interesting to hear how different people would pass the time without electricity, so my post today will list different things I like to do when the power goes out.

1. Cooking-My family loves to camp. When the power goes out, we light up the grill or, even better, build a fire. Having no power gives us a great excuse to cook those camping recipes that we’ve always wanted to try. I love this time because everyone chips in and we work as a team. Sometimes we even find new foods we like to eat.

2. Experimenting-my bunch loves to experiment, and this gives them opportunity to try out all of their fun gadgets. Whether a Coleman stove, an air mattress inflator, or a battery powered television, they enjoy learning how to use them. Even if these gadgets have nothing to do with electricity, the outage seems to spark a desire to try them out.

3. Playing games-We break out the candles and whatever games we unearth from the closet. I like playing games because it brings my entire family to one “level”. When we have electricity, my son loves video games, and we all go off by ourselves and do different things on the web or our phones. When the power goes out and we get out that board game or deck of cards, everyone plays the same game.  If someone has more experience, they still depend on strategy and choices made by humans.   

4. Puzzles-Something we rarely take time to do. Not one of us can walk away from an unfinished puzzle, which means we spend an entire afternoon relaxing together.

5. Talking-The silence that stems from the lack of electricity also triggers communication. The quiet time seems to promote thinking, which in turn gives them something to discuss.

 6. Hobbies- Each member of my family has their own creative talent along with many shared interests. I like to crochet, and most of us like to build things. Sometimes we will work on a project together. Most of the power outages that we have lived through happened during the winter, which means making Christmas presents together. Playing musical instruments is something we can do. My son and daughter both play the alto saxophone, what a perfect time for them to pull them out and play together. Other instruments we play include guitar, bass, piano, and drums.

7. Reading-Every one of my crew loves to read. The kids love to set up a hammock, or climb a tree and read outside-during both the winter and the summer. I prefer going to my room to read, and my husband reads wherever he feels comfortable at the time. Having a group quiet time somehow brings us closer as a family.

Electricity does have an impact on our world, as would the lack of it. When we go camping, we set up a tent without electricity. If you ask any member of my gang what they would most like to do on any given day, they would say, “Go camping.” They don’t mind leaving behind their electronic devices, although it makes them all too happy to pick them back up again when we get home.  We never truly appreciate something, until we have to be without it for awhile. 

The Day Waffles Moved Out

By Linda Patton ~July 10, 2015

My least favorite part about raising chickens comes when the mothers wean their chicks. She suddenly decides that they can candle life on their own. They go from snuggling under her numerous times a day, to finding food and sleeping on their own. This creates an uproar in the chicken house. In order to wean them, the mother pecks them away from her. For some reason, the other hens decide they should help with this and proceed to run them off from the food, the roosts, and everywhere else they take a notion to be. The babies peep and cry. My heart breaks as I see their little worried looks.

The second worst part comes when the rooster decides he is a man. If other roosters live in the flock, the power struggle begins. Size usually makes the decision on who will be the boss, although putting up a good bluff will win a lot of battles. And then there is the matter of the hens. They have no intention of becoming a wife. If the rooster learns to patiently woo the hens by feeding them and dancing for them, the process goes smoothly. If they chase them all over and force them to submit, the entire barnyard suffers.

Today I learned a valuable lesson. I feel every pain a chicken could possibly feel, whether they do or not. We have a rooster we call Waffles who turned 5 months old the last of June, and has already grown larger than all of the hens. This put the smaller girls in danger so I decided to move him away for their sakes. I carried him and Shadow, a hen the same age and breed, to a new part of the yard, where they have their own little jungle and house. Chickens move easier at night, once they go to sleep, it relaxes them and makes it easier to adjust to their new surroundings. They awake already knowing that they have someplace safe to sleep. Most of a chicken’s worry is finding where they will be safe. Since they see very little at night, they have nothing better to do but sleep. This also makes a chicken more susceptible to predators. They never see them coming.

Following the rules, I moved them late in the evening. I opened their door this morning, but they did not come out. I fed them, encouraged them, and coaxed them only to finally leave them alone to run my errands, and let them explore on their own.  Much to my surprise, when I returned in midafternoon, those poor birds still sat on that roost. They had not eaten, or had anything to drink all day. I crawled in and pulled out Shadow. She squalled, scaring poor Waffles half to death. I pushed her towards the chicken door. She immediately perked up with delight. The new place was like a beautiful jungle compared to where they had been raised. He followed her out without any help from me. I left them alone in order let them find their way, checking on them throughout the day.  

My emotions reeled at the thought of how they must be feeling. Snatched from the only home they have known and moved to someplace unlike anything they have seen before, they have no idea what to do. After hours of heart wrenching worry, it finally occurred to me. As a toddler, my son disliked going any place new. He didn’t like being around many people, and people he didn’t know petrified him. Keeping him involved in everything made it easier for him to accept new things. If I did my best to give my child every opportunity to overcome his fears, then maybe I should consider this course of action for Waffles as well. I know that he has everything he needs. Food, shelter, protection, and even a hen. It will take a few days, but he will be a better rooster for it in the long run. And I have learned something new – how to cope with chicken empathy. 

BEST DREAM EVER!

By Linda Patton~July 9, 2015

To fulfill the writing prompt I received today, I am going to tell you about one wonderful, glorious night, when a dream entered into my sleeping mind, never to leave again. It haunts me to this day.

            My husband hired a sitter and took me to a very nice restaurant for an exquisite meal. The wait staff took very good care of us, making every effort to make the evening perfect. It had been so long since we went anywhere without our two young children. 

           As they cleared the last of the dinner dishes, a nice young man pushed a cart up to our table. “And now for the best part.” My eyes turned to the cart which held the most beautiful creations I had ever seen. Three shelves full of cakes, pies, and desserts of all kinds, no doubt made to perfection and decorated with sheer beauty. However, I cannot tell you what the tray actually held, because peeking out in the middle stood the most amazing piece of cheesecake I have ever seen, drizzled ever so lightly with a sauce made out of a variety of berries, and topped with perfect curls of white chocolate.

            That piece of cheesecake would complete a perfect evening. Really good cheesecake is my biggest weakness, one I rarely allow myself to indulge in. Tonight was special. Tonight I would throw all caution to the wind, and eat the cheesecake. My husband spoke up, “She will have the cheesecake,” but was interrupted by the waiter. “Yes sir,” and he looked at me. “But you cannot have the cheesecake until you have eaten every other dessert on this cart.”

            I laughed, but I could tell he meant it. I looked at it again. Never had such a delicacy tempted me like this perfectly baked, creamy cheesecake with strategically placed berries on top, sauce drizzling down the sides so that every bite contained a perfect blend of flavors. “Why not!” I said.

            Piece after piece, they sat each one in front of me. I ate every bite with determination, I would have that cheesecake.  Even in my dream I felt sick, Finally, the cart was empty, and there… alone…stood my precious cheesecake. The waiter reached to pick it up. He placed it in front of me on the table, where all evidence of any prior desserts had vanished. I picked up the fork and watched with delight as it cut out the first bite, I lifted it to my lips, opened my mouth, and “LINDA?” my husband said as he shook me awake.

            NOOOOOO! This could not be happening. “It’s time to get up,” he continued. I repeated, aloud this time “No!” All that effort wasted. I must go back to sleep. I must! And boy did I try. I tried all day. In the years that have past, I have often tried to put myself back in that moment, but never have I succeeded. Never have I tasted that delectable, fantasy cheesecake.

            So while this dream is one that I actually experienced, I will always wish to have that one more moment of sleep. 

"Why does weather have to be wet?”

By Linda Patton~July 8, 2015

The Daily prompt I received fits today very well. "Why does weather have to be wet?  Write a story or poem that begins and ends with rain or fog." Rain! Rain! Rain!

Falina paced as the farmer came near. Back and forth, over and over, desperately wanting the door to open and release her into the open green grass. Her eleven half-grown babies tried to stay out of the way, as they begged the farmer to open the door for the day.

As the farmer opened the door, she stepped out onto the ramp and fell to the ground. The ramp had broken and fallen to the ground unnoticed. The weight of the coon who had taunted Falina in the middle of the night, had caused it to break in half and fall to the ground. The babies watched, peeping loudly, asking their mother what to do, afraid to step out of the house. They were still unsure of their ability to fly, and it was a long way to the ground.

She regained her balance, only to realize that the rain still trickled from the sky, droplets landing on her dry, neat feathers.  This would make for a long day. She ran immediately to the open barn, leaving the babies milling around outside. After a quick look around, she ran back to them. The babies began to scatter, walking through the tall wet grass. The farmer had not mowed in days. He never let it get this tall, but the rain refused to cease.

The rain brought out a smorgasbord of worms and bugs, which kept the babies occupied. The torrential downpours also left puddles as big as ponds all around the yard. She would have to watch that the little ones didn’t wade out too deep and drown. The feeders, which usually held so much dry food that it bordered on spilling over the top, now sat empty, except for the water that the buckets of rain had left in its place. She would have to eat from the feeders in the barn.

In her little hutch, Falina had been safe from predators, safe from rain, and safe from the biggest issue-the Rooster. He insisted on her attention. She loved the barn. She couldn’t wait until her babies were big enough to move there safely. The rain meant that the barn would not be the peaceful shelter that she usually enjoyed. The rooster would pick at her, getting on her every nerve, and the other hens would be cranky. She would seek shelter for herself and the babies elsewhere.

When the rain slowed to a slight sprinkle, she and half of the babies stood together on a board to preen their wet feathers. One little one, couldn’t stand it, she jumped onto Falina’s back and rested while they watched the farmer. He drug his hoe through the deep water the rain had left by the barn. With each swipe of the hoe, the water decreased as it ran off into the woods, leaving a smaller river to cross to get to the barn.

As they watched with their feathers dripping wet, the sky suddenly turned loose another round of water. Rain! Rain! Rain! Will it ever end? 

Small Act of Kindness

By Linda Patton ~July 7, 2015

We may never know exactly how one small act of kindness will affect someone’s day. However, occasionally the immediate response to the deed will provide a sense of fulfillment and joy to the person who put forth the effort.  

Just another trip to the grocery store turned into one of those mornings. With my cart half filled, I made my way to the canned goods.  My list ordered tomatoes for making chili. Standing in front of the numerous choices, a woman whom I had never met faced the same dilemma that awaited me. Should I choose diced or whole tomatoes? Which brand would fit my budget? I smiled at her, and happily said, “So many choices” as I reached past her to pick up a can to inspect. She half smiled back and made an attempt at a reply. She apologized and explained that she had been standing there for 10 minutes, but she could not focus.

The next thing I know, there we stood in the middle of that aisle, hand in hand, tears rolling down our faces, as she went on to tell me that she was waiting to hear from her granddaughter who at that very moment fought for her life hundreds of miles away. Severe complications during pregnancy had forced labor and delivery, and the odds of either mother or baby surviving were very low. Does anyone really know what to do in that situation? I did all I knew to do-I listened and prayed with her. After thirty minutes, the tears subsided. She hugged me, gave me another half-smile, and said, “I’m sure they will be ok. Waiting is hard.”

The simple gesture of smiling and speaking to her, had given her the opportunity to tell me of her fears, which in turn helped her to pass the time. I have been through situations where time seems to stop and minutes turn to days, those times when all you can do is wait and pray. I never knew how things turned out for that family, but I knew I had been given a purpose for that day. LOVE NEVER FAILS!