Big Rock 10 - Disaster Cat 0.....
Well, this has not been exactly a wonderful couple of weeks. Oh, some of its been OK but most of it as been kind of under the weather. Among the good news, like attending a nice re-enactment event in the UK (at Lincoln castle) was stuff like finding out the bug everyone had there had come home with us. All of us....
Which is one reason why there haven't been any web-blogs for almost two weeks. First there was packing, weaving extra trim to sell then getting too and from the event. Then there was lay down and know you are not going to die, but feel this may be a possibility anyway for a couple of days. Then there was the glorious apearence of sunshine, making everything feel better. Even it is still is pretty cold. Friends came down to visit to enjoy the wonderfulness of our house (and armoring workshop) and, The Bear, offered to help sort out the chicken run.
The night before, I had stayed up until 4am, finishing my first full sized weaving on my new loom. Its a really cool black and red piece with blue highlights that shimmer when the sun hits them. I know this, because by 9am, I was back up and washing the item out and fulling it in the dryer. Fulling is what makes woven cloth into fabric. In the old days, women used to have to collect the urine of little boys to soak the fabric in and then gather around singing songs and whacking the cloth on the table. Thanks to modern technology, you can now do this with a combination of warm soapy water and an electric dryer. A stubborn fabric may need a few drops of bleach in place of the male elimination products used in previous centuries. Which is a good thing, since I have neither a small son hanging about nor the has our house the public "collection" pots I gather were popular in the ancient city of Rome. Funny, I don't remember seeing them in Gladiator...maybe I need to look closer next time?
Anyway, this light weight wool piece is made from soft, Shetland wool and since my husband will be using it for an over tunic, I didn't need to completely full it. I could leave it more of a loose draping weave. But it still needed some work, otherwise his newly woven Viking shirt will look just like all the art weaving you see in fancy boutiques. Its what the public expects to see, so its what production weavers tend to make and sell. The resulting scarves, shawls and wall hangings look lovely, but often wind up in the local charity shop after their first washing. The reason is because their very open weave, means that even hand washing will result in pushing the yarns together and shrinking the fabrics. Back in the old days, when people were more interested in warm clothing than fancy scarves, cloth was just washed and fulled on general principles. Entire guilds were dedicated to this practice in the Middle Ages. Although I gather the use of previously mentioned "male elimination products" during the fulling process resulted in many town charters insisting that the Fuller's Factories be in their own special section of town. Preferably just outside the city gate, along with the slaughter houses and garbage dumps....
But, my cloth, freshly washed smelled sweetly of fabric softener and wet wool. Five minutes, closely watched in the commercial dryer (I've read horror stories of modern weavers getting a phone call at the wrong time and shrinking their newly minted creations to the size of a small orange) and I had a fantastic looking piece of black and red cloth, ready to hang out to dry on what passed for a cold but sunny morning. Even better, the light amount of fulling/felting had eliminated most traces of the fact that my beginning weaving skills have not quite mastered the art of even salvages (sides of the cloth). A bit of trim placed over the finished garment and presto! No one will know that some places wobble in and out by about half an inch. And I can just tell everyone that I "designed" the garment to have trim around all four sides....
Actually, I wanted just to trim the sides, but husband does not want fringes on the bottom of his shirt. I think they look great, but I thing guys, even Viking ones tend to be a bit more conservative of dress than their wives. At at least not as adventurous in experimenting with new styles. And, he does have a point, I don't know of any ninth century picture stones showing fierce Viking men swinging blood covered axes while garbed in tunics with bottom fringes blowing in the wind. I guess wispy bits of yarn might tend to get mucky and perhaps even get in they way of a good sword thrust....
By now, I'm sure you are wondering, "all this stuff about weaving is very well and good, but what in the world does it have to do with chickens." Don't worry, we have almost gotten to that point in the story....
So, I take out my new creation and proudly hang it on the washing line to blow in the sun. I'm sure after I've done about 20 of these things, I may stand and admire my own creativity as much, but for now its all new, so I continue to do so. Meanwhile, The Bear, reminds me that we are going to visit the chickens today.
Round one, of "you too can have fun with chickens" goes well. We experiment letting them all outside into the newly growing grass and they are delighted to be free. Some of the youngest ones have to be convinced to leave the run, The Bear booting them out of the wire enclosure with his feet. Some of them running around backwards and forwards trying to escape without using the door (doesn't work very well). And, our Uber Rooster, Saladin tries to take off for the hills. It looks a lot like the movie Chicken Run, except the girls are not following. They are mostly content to scratch for bugs and grass, beside the chicken house door.
We noticed that our new hen, born last summer and named "Shrub" (at the time she looked very much like her daddy and its very hard to tell what sex a chicken is until it either lays eggs or starts crowing) had begun to horde eggs and think about "sitting." Sitting, or "Going Broody" is what hens do when they want to hatch out baby chicks. Many commercial chickens have this skill bred out of them, since business people (even many farm wives) want eggs, not chicks. I on the other hand, want both, so within reason I encourage my ladies to sit around and reproduce. Shrub isn't quite "stuck" on the nest, once that happens, nothing will move her off of her egg horde, except the occasional urgent needs for water and a bit of food. Hens often loose a lot of weight while they are sitting, because they don't want to leave their nest. Shrub hasn't started making the "clucking" sound that a truly sitting mother makes, but she is spending a lot of time sitting on one nest and keeping its eggs warm. If it were still snowing outside, I might discourage her from trying to hatch a family so early in the year, by gathering up all the eggs. Instead, because the weather is improving enough for a chicken inside a chicken shed to make babies, I'm encouraging her by leaving the eggs in the nest.
Unfortunately, even though Shrub will stop laying her own eggs, once she gets to about ten or twelve of them. Her sister hens are likely to continue helpfully putting more and more eggs under her, until she is sitting on top of a lumpy egg mountain. One which she can't possibly cover all by herself, which is likely to result in unhatched and rotting eggs. Not to mention eggs that will never hatch because they have only been sat on for a few days by the time the first brood has hatched out. Momma chickens will continue hatching eggs for about a week (the length of time in nature it would take to lay their own nest) but not much more than that. Any left over eggs just grow cold and die, unless you've got an incubator and quickly move them in their. To avoid this problem, and still encourage a hen to go ahead and start sitting, you mark her original eggs with a felt tip marker. You can add eggs from other hens, to top up the number to about twelve as a hen doesn't care whose eggs she is hatching (in fact hens will hatch ducks, geese or even peacocks! ). Each day you check and remove all freshly laid, unmarked eggs from beneath her. When she is truly firmly upon the nest (and may bite you if you pick her up) you can move her to a broody cage if you have one. Shrub was handled a lot and made a pet of by "The Fox " (wife of Bear) and will even fly into you hand to eat crackers or sit on your wrist while you pet her. So, she's pretty easy to deal with and not likely to attack.
So, I went back into the house to get a maker, walked through the workshop area to get to the chicken run. Rushed out the back door of the workshop and promptly did a flying flip over a very large rock being used to prop the workshop door over. I landed flat in a "dead-mans" stage fall, arms in front of me and face to face with a pile of straw and horse manure. It was a very good thing there was straw and horse manure, since I managed to go splat on the only four feet of cement we've have in the entire back field. Laid out originally for a cat run that was never built, its been left there in hopes of using it for the flooring of a yet to be built blacksmithing forge.
I felt like a complete idiot and smelled worse. And, I didn't dare move until someone looked me over...besides I wasn't sure if I could get up or not. Yelling, eventually procured the Bear, who used to be a police officer and has the pre-requisite first aid training. Various checks showed I was battered and sore, but not seriously hurt in anyway. Which is not to say that I feel very good either. I limped back to the house, turned on the hot bath water and proceeded to look for pain killer. Of course, we were out, husband is sent on run to local pharmacy while I peal off clothing that by this point, truly carries the fragrance of horse apples....Straw is everywhere.
To make a long story short, I spent a long time in the bath and have been gingerly stepping about since yesterday morning. Today, I'm moving like I am in my 80's but I'm otherwise all right. I'm very glad I stayed up and got the weaving done, since my back and shoulder are telling me it may be a few more days before I do anymore. This mornings crisp sunshine did not inspire me to go out and enjoy the fresh air much. Instead, I think I'll stay in and pretend its still Winter for a few more days yet. Spring, Ba Humbug!
The Bear managed to get Salidan back in with his hens this morning and we won't be letting them out much until we figure out how to keep him from leading his ladies into the hills. This may result in the building of chicken arcs (movable cages with chickens inside). But for now, I think I'm going to spend a couple of more days taking it easy and avoiding large rocks. Except for making appointments with the chiropractor and the optometrist....I knew I needed new glasses, but missing a two foot sized rock has upped the appointment schedule.
Said rock has now been moved far away from the door, to enjoy a life of back field rockiness which I hope it enjoys. For now, I think I'll go have a hot cup of tea and a hot water bottle for company.
Stay tuned for: More Adventures of Disaster Cat....