Cate asked in the comments of the last post how the chickens were doing in the cold. Well, let me tell you — it got colder faster than I thought it would! Last Tuesday (a week+ ago), it was so warm I took off my coat when I took Zephyr for her walk. By last Thursday, the chicken water contraption had frozen. I knew there were heated ones out there, but didn’t think we’d require that until the depths of winter (say, January). But here Trixie and I were, on the 3rd of December, heading out during snow flurries to see if our local farm and ranch supplier carried a “heated poultry fount.”
(They did! And at a much better price than anywhere online, too.)
We got it set up, and things were hunky dory for a few days. Then came the blizzard of ‘09. Not only were we going to get SNOW (and boy, did we get snow!)…
…but temps were going to dip below freezing, below 10F, even below 0F. And one of our local chicken experts had casually mentioned in passing to the Consort this summer that chickens are fine until about 10F, at which point you need a heat lamp. Ten degrees. Hah — another issue we won’t have to deal with until January, right? Nope. So for the past few days the chickens have been staying in their coop, most of the day with their door to the run shut (because of wind and cold), their only source of “light” the one compact fluorescent bulb we’ve got in the garage.
(Photo cropped to protect your sensibilities from their prolific product of poop.)
Lat night we set them up with the heat lamp, but I don’t want to keep it on all the time. Word on the chicken forums is that you don’t want them acclimated to warmer than average temps, because if you happen to have an electric outage, the chickens will DIE. (And we have survived a hawk attack, so no way in hell will we succumb to frozen chicken!)
I really want to get one of those min/max thermometers, so we can get an idea of how cold it gets in the garage on a typical night. But, since the Blizzard of ‘09 had everyone instructed to stay inside during the Tuesday-Wednesday 24 hours of 14-in. snowfall and 45 mph winds…
This is the Consort digging us a pathway where the sidewalk ought to be.
…and the lack of adequate snow plowing, I haven’t gotten out to the hardware store yet. I put this humidity/temperature gauge we got with our humidifiers several years ago in the garage, but after a couple of hours outdoors, the poor thing had given up and could only tell me this:
But, no, Cate, the chickens will not be coming inside this winter, no matter how much Trixie would like them to. They have grown up to be excellent pooping machines, and I will have none of that in my house, thankyouverymuch.
*Warning: The following is high in narcissism content.
Yesterday I made a red fleece hat to go with my chevron mittens and my black knee-length down coat because snow (and below-freezing temperatures) was predicted to start in the afternoon. Unfortunately, trying to take pictures of a hat and gloves is hard enough, but add in a self-timer that’s acting up, pea gravel digging in my knees (yes, I was kneeling throughout this), and a model who feels this whole endeavor is a bit too narcissistic, and this is what you get.
First, I had some trouble syncing with the timer.
Hmmm. I don’t know if the camera will focus in the right spot.
What the hell is this pose? A shot for the Puritan Maxim-edition bondage issue?
And when did I get Michael Jackson’s nose and lips?
It’s always difficult when your model starts to act up. Imagine how much more difficult when the model is YOU.
Clearly, I didn’t only have timer issues at the start of the shoot.
What the…?
Oh, fukkit.
Are we making the old standby — overly sweet and sugary?
No! Use real butter, and don’t only melt it — let it brown and get that lovely nutty aroma.
When you stir in the marshmallows, throw in 1/4 tsp of salt. The stirring takes forever.
Use the butter wrapper to press the treat into your greased pan. (Yes — this uses a whole stick of butter. But that isn’t so much when you distribute it among the servings. And it’s not like you should make these every week! Plus, how much fat do you think is in ice cream, huh? And some people have THAT every week…)
Do you have the patience to let it cool?
Mmmmmmmmmmmm.
Recipe from smitten kitchen.
As I was walking this morning, I continued an internal conversation* I was having the other day, about crazy consumer goods we thought were a good idea in the 1980s. I’m not talking about hairstyles and clothing styles (vivid colorblocks, I’m looking at you), because everybody talks about those mistakes all the time.
I’ve thought of two of these in-hindsight-they-are-pretty-dumb-but-at-the-time-Oh!-how-we-loved-them items:
Erasermates. Remember their smell? It was unique to them (or perhaps no one else is as obsessed with smells as I am). And their clumpy, skipping ink (although it was such a brilliant blue)? And the black eraser that came with them? And you know– they still make these (I roll my eyes.)
Tube socks. What a crazy idea! They never fit well, because there was no curve in them, and even though they weren’t made with a heel, one invariably defined itself with the hell-dinginess that resulted from walking around in socks (as we are all wont to do).
Now, I know there are more of these goods, but I can’t think of any right now (sometimes my internal conversations are rather sparse, I admit). If you think of any more, let me know and I’ll add it to the list.
*Surely I’m not the only one who has running commentary going through her mind as she walks.
IS THERE such a thing as communications malpractice? If so, we might consider the case of Women v. the US Preventive Services Task Force.
Thus starts today’s piece by Ellen Goodman (A tone-deaf message on mammograms). She says some of the same things I tried to discuss, but didn’t say as clearly.
(Sadly, the online reader commentary here is just as bad as the online reader commentary at the DM Register. Online Op-Ed comments are an example of the worst of the Internet, in my opinion.)
The season of carol singing has begun!
Pecan pie is always better on the second day. I highly recommend making it the day before you plan to eat it.
Corollary 1: Because it is so sweet, the best accompaniment is unsweetened crème fraiche.
Corollary 2: Pecan pie is scrumptious for breakfast.
… please come here.
It’s just us four this year. Which is fine.
One year, I would really like to have a Thanksgiving meal with historically accurate items. Another year I would like to spend most of the day delivering meals to the homebound. I know the Consort enjoys trying different dishes. But the girls are adamant about ritual and routine, and they like to call it “tradition”, but I think they are imbuing too much rigidity to the menu. In any event, we are going to have way too much food:
- Lentil Nut Loaf in turkey shape, with onion gravy
- creamed onions (traditional)
- pineapple bread pudding (a midwestern concoction introduced to my parents long ago)
- gingered and mapled mashed yams (this really ought to be a dessert)
- candied yams with marshmallows (for Trixie)
- mashed potatoes (Impera is making these, because the Consort and I wanted to do a potato and turnip mash, and she didn’t like that idea)
- cranberry sauce (home cooked)
- can of cranberry jelly (for the Consort and Trixie)
- sauteed corn with chipotle and thyme (new this year!)
- green beans with shallots (traditional)
- stuffing (traditional)
- rolls (I thought the menu was doing OK for carbs; Impera disagreed. She’ll be making this, too)
And for dessert:
- Hubbard squash pie (Impera wanted two pies — since it’s only us four, I suggested we only make one right now, and we can make a second after all the leftovers are eaten)
- pecan pie
- coconut coconut coconut pie
The day started with a loud thunderstorm, and the rain has continued all day. I took a short walk outside, determined to find some beauty in the grayness. I think I found some.
