So...

It turns out that keeping up with this blogging thing is more work than I expected. In addition, we've added ourselves to the HouseBlog network, which has forced me to evaluate everything I plan to write. Is it housebloggy enough? Or will I just annoy everyone forced to see our page for the few seconds it appears on the network's main site? There's been a lot to talk about, but I guess it wasn't home-centric enough. So in summary:

The garden. This year we weren't supposed to have a garden. Our house is lovely, yes, but is in disrepair. It's been ignored in small ways for years, and has deep problems around plumbing, electrical and HVAC. Because of this, our emphasis this year was going to be on the house itself. Fat chance. We planted a garden with what you would expect in the Midwest: tomatoes, zucchini, pumpkins, corn, beans, hot peppers, habenero, beets... the list goes on. We used a permaculture technique - sheet mulching - and modified it for our abbreviated schedule. It was a great way to get rid of many of our moving boxes, most of which had been bent, soaked and crushed beyond repair. So this summer they became an excellent weed barrier, killing the lawn underneath while preserving moisture.

The tree, our beautiful tree. A tall, magnificent elm that had seen better days was cut down several weeks ago. It was in a state of decay, much like our house, but probably would have lasted a decade or two before succumbing to the elements. It was clear that it had suffered some irreparable harm some time ago, but what ended up defeating it wasn't the weather, but the city. Minneapolis has had a high number of Dutch Elm victims this year, and our tree was one of them.

The day the tree was felled it shook the ground like an earthquake. 80 years old (from our unscientific ring counting later) and over 3 feet in diameter, it must have weighed many tons.

Since the loss of the tree, we've noticed that on very hot days the air conditioning runs for several hours longer.

Chickens. I ended my last post on a down note, but the chickens are doing very well. The handsome lad you see on the right is Stripes. Stripes is the surviving rooster from the many, many roosters we managed to hatch this summer. In fact, of the four eggs that we hatched, four were roosters. Somewhat worse than the 50/50 odds we were expecting. Of the additional five chicks we were given a few weeks later, only three were hens. So, we ended up with five roosters and three hens. Not an ideal situation - you only want one rooster in a flock as small as ours. We came up with an ingenious method for determining which roosters would go: if they crowed, they left. Pearl, the massive white something-or-other (we're not really sure on breeds) was the first and loudest, followed by two anonymous black roosters and Spongebob. Spongebob was unanimously the worst rooster we had ever seen, constantly fighting with the hens, stealing food, and crowing at inopportune times. And so it came to pass that Stripes, probably the least effective rooster of the crew, stayed with us.

The coop. I spent two weekends working on this thing, probably about 40 hours in all. It's made mostly from cheap pine 2x4s, reclaimed cedar from our basement tear-out, and a salvaged window from the ReUse store. The roof is a water membrane donated by my father-in-law with cedar shingles.

The design I stole from a picture I saw online, and made some assumptions and modifications for how I thought things should be. So far it's done very well, holding up better than our house did in several extreme thunderstorms this summer.

The only thing left is to create a nest box, as the hens should start laying in a week or two. Otherwise we'll have to hunt for them in the yard.

That's all for now. Some actual home improvement projects are coming up, so I guess I'll have something housebloggy to write about after all. Stay tuned.

Wilbur's End

Thought it was worth mentioning that Wilbur met his maker last night. We had tried a few attempts to bring him around - namely homeopathy and then trying to physically brace his jaw so his beak would line up - but it really wasn't happening. He was severely malnourished, dehydrated and generally miserable, and his condition wasn't going to be fixed with our feeble attempts. Short of surgery I don't see how he could have survived.

We tried to make things okay for him before he moved on, feeding him by hand and using a dropper to give him water. There was little question that he would have to die that evening, but it seemed callous to end what was a short and unfair existence without a degree of dignity. At the very least he didn't die thirsty and hungry and alone, three conditions that plagued his brief life.

So, that's our first brush with death and raising animals. As a person who's never dealt with animals as creatures of utility - rather more as companions and friends - this has been extremely distressing, far more than I would have thought. City folk tend to anthropomorphize animals and even inanimate devices, ascribing attributes to them that simply do not exist outside of our heads. I doubt Wilbur was having an existential crisis in his final days, lamenting his place in an uncaring universe. He just was, going about his business as best as he could, probably utterly oblivious to the fact that he was fatally disfigured. I know all of this, but there's still a small but vocal part of my brain that tells me I betrayed a life that depended on me for protection. I suspect that this will fade with time, and that my pragmatic side will win over the long run, but right now it just sucks.

Homeopathy and Chickens

We have a desperate situation with our chick, Wilbur. He's had a tough life even before he hatched. He spent 24 hours trying to get out of his egg to no avail. Paul finally opened the shell for the little guy who was stuck and extremely tired. He's been the runt of the group every since. Over the past few weeks he's been developing a structural problem called a twisted beak. Basically the upper and lower parts of his beak don't match up making it almost impossible for him to eat, drink or peck anything. Our chicken farmer, Brian, said that he may survive, but his condition has been getting worse.

At this point, I've decided to take matters into my own hands. Without some help, he will certainly die. He's emaciated and extremely under developed. I gave him one dose of Natrum muriaticum, 30c in liquid. I am also giving him water via dropper and am going to try an oat and raw milk mixture for nourishment. I think I'll give him 24 hours to respond to the remedy. If that doesn't act, I'm going to try Calcarea carbonica.

I'll post his progress!

Garbage and Gas

Gas. I've heard that it is supposed to get up to $4.07 per gallon this summer. Frankly, and don't balk at me here, I'm excited. I think that expensive gas is a small step toward a national realization that we're destroying the planet and, guess what - our endless supply of fossil fuels will soon be no more. So while I don't want to pay $60 or $70 to fill up this summer, I think that I just found some new motivation to get some new bikes shoes and perhaps a tune up. The girls and I will be putting in some mileage this summer.
I realize that my current luxuries are not available to everyone. We've now got a playground two blocks away, a grocery store 10 blocks away, two great pizza places within walking distance, a coffee shop, a number of rec centers, a library, a beach and a post office - just to name a few. We're set, really. The only thing that gets me into the car these days is our weekly trip to Whole Foods in St Paul and church. (This doesn't include weekends which are another story entirely.)
The goal that I've set for myself now is to fill up once every two weeks. I came close this week but don't think I'll make it all the way. If I can reach two weeks, my next goal is three.
So those are my gas goals.

As for garbage. I've noticed that we have a LOT of garbage here! It seems like our kitchen can is full twice a week. We recycle, which isn't included, but man, what's with that? First of all, what gets me are those plastic bags. You know the ones? You buy a couple of apples and in order to get it through the check out they have to be in a plastic bag. Well, I've cut down on that a bit with my BYO bags, which are great but they don't deal with my bulk purchases of rice, oatmeal, etc. So we have a load of those little bags. I think I'm going to start bringing them back and reusing them each week. I'll let you know how it goes. As for the rest of the garbage, it may come down to making a list of everything that goes in and then evaluating from there!

Be the change you wish to see in the world. - Gandhi

Official Chick Names

Last night, during some burst of creativity, Amelie decided to finally name all of the chicks. We have, in no particular order; Sponge Bob (yellow one), Stripes (all black), Pearl (all white), Wilbur (all gray and the runt). There you have it! Now we're just waiting to see who gets to stay (hens) and who has to go (roosters).

Officially Moved In

Well, our moving trailer, where all of our belongings have resided for the past 10 months is now empty. What is not empty, however, is our garage which is now quite full. With the help of our good friends John and Kala, my parents and our neighbor, Bill, we were able to get the entire semi trailer emptied in just a few hours (and before the rain). We moved very little into the house but it was enough to make us feel overwhelmed. It turns out we have A LOT of stuff. Most of which we will be selling in our garage sale.

Thankfully everything survived the trip and the months in storage fairly well. Everything except our Maytag Neptune - only washer to get the cat/dog hair out - washer suffered some frozen parts and now needs to get fixed. We're just hoping it doesn't cost us an arm and a leg.

Nonetheless, we're moved in. More updates on the big sale to come....