Night Prowling for Jailbirds

As expected, without roosters our hens stopped coming home to the coop at night and started roosting in the woods. I never really gave the name "rooster" much thought, but it's pretty clear that they have an important job to fill on a free range chicken farm - they tell the hens where to roost and without them it is fowl chaos. Crowing and spurring aside, a rooster's value on our farm has gone up expotentially.

In order to reclaim our hens, Scott and I made two evening forays into the woods to capture the missing birds. Scott read somewhere that once a hen has fallen asleep, it is easy to pluck them off their roost. Sure enough, this was correct. On the first night Scott walked right up to two hens, snatched them from the shrubs they were roosting in (at about waist level) and took them back to the coop.


We weren't able to locate two of the missing hens (4 of our 8 were easily chased back into the coop), so the next evening Scott watched carefully to see where the jailbirds planned to roost. One choose a rather high spot in a tree, and the other (who'd been badly injured by one of our roosters) actually choose a pile of sticks near the ground. We went after the injured bird first and captured her easily. After applying a bit of neosporin to the side of her face (where the rooster had pecked her unmercifully) we stuck her in the coop and went off after the chicken in the tree. She proved to be too sly for us. She was so high that I had to pull a limb down to get Scott close enough to touch her and that wasn't close enough. She eventually woke up, flew off and obsconded as we tried to figure out a way to get to her. No worries though, the next morning I found her snooping around the coop, opened the door just a bit and she went right in. I guess two nights in the woods alone were quite enough.

All eight surviving hens are now miserable, but alive in our coop. It is obvious that they very much want to free range and have retaliated by reducing egg production by more than half. We used to get an egg or so per chicken, per day. Yesterday Scott only found 3 eggs and that was two days worth.

So now we are thinking chicken tractor. We never understood why so many free range chicken farmers had these. Our hens free ranged, roosted at home and gave us plenty of eggs without a mobile chicken house, but now we understand. Without a rooster around, a chicken tractor is the only way to let hens free range without the worry that they'll be eaten by predators or go feral in the woods. We'll let you know how it goes.

A Tale of Two Roosters

We had two roosters. Now we have none.

Life on a farm can be fun. It can also be really unpleasant. When we first got our Wyandotte chickens, we culled down to two roosters and waited to see who would reign supreme. The smaller of the two (Spot) appeared to be the better provider and protector, but Dinner (we were supposed to eat him) was far prettier and had a better crow. Well, we got complacent and decided that having two roosters was fine. They fought a little, but eventually worked out a deal - Spot got 7 hens, Dinner got 4 - and they basically shared the same space without too much commotion....until this spring.

Once the weather got warmer, rooster testosterone levels went haywire. One evening Scott and I watched Spot and Dinner fight for about an hour. It was more of a dance than a fight though. Each rooster would fluff its neck feathers, charge, then jump over or under the other. No blood was drawn (even though they both have large, sharp spurs) and it was kinda pretty.

Well, as time went on the fights got more serious and blood was eventually shed - sometimes in copious quantities. We decided that one of them had to go, and Spot made the culling decision easy. Spot had always been aggressive toward us and the kids, but for the most part he'd been all charge and no spur. His bloody attacks on Dinner, however, made us rethink the possibilities, and (with an outdoor wedding coming up on the property) we decided Spot simply had to go. As Ruby said in Cold Mountain, "I hate a flogg'in rooster. Let's put him in a pot."

This, however, may have been a mistake.

At first things were sooo much better. No more peaking around the corner to see if Spot was waiting to charge. No more displays of fowl aggression on mankind. Everything seemed so peaceful...until we noticed that some of the hens looked rather abused.

Apparently a few days after realizing that he was now supreme chicken, Dinner decided that it was time for Spot's girls to be his girls. They however declined to submit... so he got nasty. Yesterday I noticed a hen that looked really beat up, but she wouldn't let me get close enough to check her out. Then, later in the afternoon, I went in the coop to check for eggs and was amazed at the mess - feathers were everywhere. I opened one laying box and half the eggs were smashed, then I checked another and...uh oh...there was a dead body inside! I called Scott in to perform a detailed investigation. His diagnosis - Dinner had spurred the hen in the back until he had splayed her open - a brutal murder. We found two other hens that were injured in a similar manner, though still alive.

Scott got the .22 and took care of Dinner. Seemed like the thing to do at the time, but in hindsight, this too may have been a bad idea.

A good rooster will call the hens in at night, find food for them and alert them to danger. Last night the girls were still out after dark and the two injured ones never came in the coop at all. We hope the girls will come out of it, but 24 hours later they still seem a bit lost. I think they became dependent on the guys and may be easy pickings for predators without a rooster around. A good rooster is obviously a valuable thing.

Scott called a friend who raises chickens and found out that rehabilitation might have been a possibility for Dinner. In the future he said to put the attacking rooster in a box (aka prison) for a few days, cut his spurs, let him out after a brief incarceration and see what happens. Apparently this occasionally fixes the aggression issue, but the success rate is low (hmm, that sounds about right), and we'll never know whether it would have worked on Dinner or not.

The good news is that we have new chickens on the way and we're a little smarter now. June 1 we should receive some Partridge Rocks. We hope they will be good layers and will go broody at some point as well. The Wyandottes have shown no interest in being mothers, and we'd like to have some bitties of our own someday. We'll also cull down to one rooster as soon as possible. Two was one too many.

Oh well, live and learn.

Bo Diddley - Midnight Lover, Hog of Mystery

We've never seen our year old plus boar (Bo Diddley) attempt to mount either of our sows, and that was beginning to worry us, but Bo obviously likes the ladies. Our sow Magnolia had 4 babies Saturday morning - 3 girls and 1 boy - and Scarlet, Magnolia's sister, had 7 boys on April 9th (see previous post). Apparently Bo works his magic at night, then lounges during the day.

3 Girls - $250 per (1 is already spoken for)

8 Boys - $150 per (7 from Scarlet; 1 from Magnolia)

Magnolia's lot of 4 will be ready to go June 12th, and Scarlet's 7 boys can leave the farm as early as May 21st. All of Scarlet's boys look great, but one in particular is quite the specimen. If you're interested in any of our hogs, send an email to bluefieldacres@gmail.com or call 910-540-4475.

"Tank" (the specimen) above on the right and Scarlet's 5 other boys below.

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

We got the brothers, if you got the brides. All seven of our newly hatched America Guinea Hog piglets are male. Born April 9th, 2010 - $150 each.

Lucky Number 7

Bo Diddley knocked up Scarlet a few months ago, and we've been anxiously awaiting the birth of our first litter of registered American Guinea Hogs ever since. Last night at about 11pm Scott heard some interesting noises coming from Scarlet's pen, but we were too tired to investigate and fell into bed wondering what might await us the next day. First thing this morning I headed out to the farrowing pen and was thrilled to find five adorable baby pigs burrowed in the hay. I hollered the news to Scott and hurried off to get Scarlet her breakfast.

I stopped by Bo's pen to let him know that he was a new daddy, but he was more interested in breakfast than piglets.

When I got back to Scarlet I was in for a surprise. Scott informed me that we had six piglets, not five. Apparently one of the babies had been knocked out of the farrowing pen and was wandering around by himself in the larger pen. Luckily the three teenage pigs that live in that area hadn't bothered the little guy, but he was very tired and didn't squeal when Scott picked him up - not a good sign. We took him to mama and tried to get him to nurse, but it didn't look good. He kept wandering off and no matter how many times we put him on a teet, he didn't seem to know what to do with it. After about 30 minutes we gave up and decided to let nature take its course. He would either figure it out or he wouldn't.


Later in the afternoon while moving our picnic table, we heard a strange noise in the woods. It sounded like a puppy....or maybe even a baby pig. We took off in search of the noise and...low and behold...a baby Guinea Hog came stumbling out of the pine forest. It appeared that #6 had broken loose again, so I scooped him up, chided him softly and took him back to mama. He was covered in pollen and looked a bit "green", but if this was #6, he was actually looking much spunkier than previously and squealed readily when scooped up.

Upon returning to the farrowing pen I realized that #6 had not gotten loose after all. This was number 7 - "Lucky #7" that is. This little guy had been out of the farrowing pen since early in the morning, if not before. What are the odds that he could survive on his own that long and be found by his owners? He seemed quite fine and immediately went to work fighting for a place at the milk bar. I looked around to see if I could find "Pitiful #6", but he was no longer discernible. He had apparently learned how to run the tap at the bar himself and was feeling mo' better.

So, if you are looking for an American Guinea Hog to add to your farm, shoot us an email -bluefieldacres@gmail.com - we've got quite a few. We haven't actually sexed the kids yet and 6/7 may in fact be girls. We'll post an update on that soon. We're just trying to keep them corralled in the pen and well-fed for the moment. They should be good to go by the 21st of May - one week before our wedding. Man, do we know how to plan or what!!!

Bees

We are planning to add bees to the farm in late April or early May to enhance pollination and produce honey. I signed up for a 5-night class on beekeeping to learn the basics, and yesterday evening (around 6pm) we cracked into the campus hive and got hands-on with the bees for the first time. This is what I learned.

First, you should wear these funny little suits, hats and gloves to avoid being stung.


Second, you need to smoke the hive before entering to calm the bees. Italian honey bees are relatively gentle, but any bee can become agitated for a variety of reasons. Bees don't like dark colors (note all the white), don't like perfumes and dislike cold or cloudy weather. We were careful to enter the hive on a warm day just before dark as bees are calmer later in the day.


The multicolored stuff in the left corner is pollen and the shiny open cells have honey in them. Pollen and honey are both used as bee food. The white stuff is actually larva that will transform into pupa by eating royal jelly, pollen and honey. After 5 days of being fed bee food, they are sealed in and become capped brood (growing worker bees).


The next picture shows drones and drone cells. Drones are males. The hive produces a lot of these guys in the spring, but by fall they will be kicked out or killed by female worker bees. Drones have one function - to mate with the queen - so their work is done early in the season. Drones can't feed themselves and are a liability during the winter. Worker bees (all female) live for approximately 42 days and literally work themselves to death.


Propolis is a glue that bees make from tree resins. They use it to seal up and strengthen their hive and it must be scraped off periodically by the beekeeper to maintain hive access. Here you can see where the bees have been gluing the inner cover to a hive super (supers go on top of a hive body and give the bees a place to store honey).

We looked and looked, but never found an active queen. Although we did see some queen cells. If new queens are allowed to hatch in the hive, they will split the colony and swarm to another area.

Queen cells look like peanut shells. See lower middle. These were destroyed to prevent a swarm. Queens do nothing but lay eggs and can lay eggs for 5 years off a single period of mating.

I was stung once on my glove, but wasn't hurt at all. By and large the bees were curious, but not aggressive. There were about 20,000 bees inside this hive which was composed of a brood box and two supers - about standard in size. If you took the honey from this hive you would get about 5 gallons a season.

Can't wait for next week. I just hope I'm done with this nasty cold by then. You can't imagine how unpleasant it is sneezing in a bee veil.

Lake Waccamaw Southern Farm Days Festival

We spent two days at the Lake Waccamaw Southern Farm Days Festival this weekend showcasing Scott's talent as a blacksmith and bladesmith. Grandma Peggy attended as well to demonstrate old time hearth cooking and the kids, Papa and I came along to help out. All the money raised by the event went to the Lake Waccamaw Home for Boys and Girls. Here are some of the highlights.

Scott and Jacob firing up our coal fired forge (circa 1800's) with a newly added chimney to keep the vendors and guests from drowning in smoke and soot.


Grandma Peggy and Bonnie kept us well-fed over the weekend. They cooked up some homegrown grits and sausage on Saturday morning, then chicken and dumplings and bread pudding Saturday afternoon. On Sunday, they kept the crowds happy with beef stew and apple dumplings.



Jackie, the master of the bullwhip and a member of a local horseman's association, kept the crowds entertained.


Brian, the festival's farrier, took a turn cranking our Buffalo Forge Blower on Sunday while enjoying a cone of homemade butter pecan ice cream. Jackie came over to watch too as Scott knocked out a tribal knife that Papa dubbed "The Waccamaw".


Check out Guinea Hog Forge to see how "The Waccamaw" was made out of an old tool file.


On Saturday, Scott wowed the crowds by hacking through a 2x4 with one of his latest custom knives, then shaving with it to show how well his blades hold an edge.


We had a blast and plan to come back next year! Hope to see you there.