Sunday, May 11, 2008

more chicken adventures

Our chicken adventures continue, though not exactly unhappily. Since the Unfortunate Incident Involving a Dog and a Chicken, Fanny’s buddy Clara has developed a bad (and painful to our other hens) feather-picking habit. We tried several well-researched things to try and get her to stop, including separating the three hens and letting the feathers grow back, but none worked even a little. Clara’s habit was engrained, and she then taught the same thing to another hen. That left one hen that could be integrated with new chickens, and then we would have had to wait for her to completely re-feather, plus for the other chickens to be the same size as her before integrating them. It seemed like we’d be better off starting over if we ever wanted to get up to 6 hens, and I was tearing my hair out trying to figure out what to do with three good layers that couldn’t live together in this situation. Thankfully, there was a solution: the nice guy who runs the farm & feed store where we got the ladies to begin with was willing to take them in to a couple of his mixed flocks, where such behavior would be better regulated under an established pecking order. I think that it was a decent solution, and I’m very grateful he was willing to do that. He went over all the causes of pecking, and not one fit our situation at all except for the trauma, and since that’s exactly when it started, I’m pretty confident it won’t happen again. The odds are against it, in any case. We’ve learned a lot over the last year, and we’d certainly do some things differently if we had to do it all over again, but we’re very happily committed to continuing. It has been a good experience overall: we love the eggs, their daily care is very easy, and we’ve gotten attached to their companionable clucking in the yard. Even Ivy seems to like them. With the price of organic eggs at over $4 a dozen, the savings don’t hurt either. Soooo, we drove back up to the feed & farm store in the pouring rain, said goodbye to Clara, Susan, and Marcy, and got six chicks!

They're a week old. Here they are doing synchronized waddling and peeping:



Aren't they cute? They're on top of our piano for the next couple of weeks, then they'll go out to the hen house in the garage along with the heat lamp.




You can probably guess who is most excited. The boys awake in their rooms until after 9 PM last night, they were so wound up. Ollie named the "chipmunk one" you see here "Queenie". No*ah had already decided to name two of them "Sukie and Polly" after the girls in the folk song. I named the rest Coco, Winnie, and Mabel. We continue to walk squarely down the fine line between pet and livestock, but naming them is just too much fun to resist. We got two of the same breeds we'd had, and a few new ones.


Queenie :Auracana (like Susan was; lays blue eggs)


Sukie and Polly: Buff Orpingtons (like Fanny was)


Mabel: Blue Cochin


Winnie: White Cochin


Coco: Cuckoo Maran (looks very similar to Clara, but lays chocolate-colored eggs)

We did some work last week (thanks, Ma*rk, St*eve, and K*athy) to make the run a little bigger and make both the run and dog kennel a little more attractive.


It feels so strange to go back there and not hear the ladies crooning at me, and even stranger to throw perfectly good food scraps into the garbage. The peeping from the top of the piano kind of makes up for it, though. The only thing that kind of sucks is that we won't have any more eggs till October at the earliest, but after that, we should hopefully be good for a few years.

J's cousin Christine and her family are getting chicks this week or so too. Her sweet kids are a lot older than mine, so I guess we'll just have to settle for having chickens the same age!

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

calm?

Over the last couple of weeks, the boys had their early childhood screenings with our local public school system. Our district screens every child before kindergarten, and prefers to do the screenings as soon after the 3rd birthday as possible. It was one of those things that are kind of interesting to watch with twins, as they each made their way separately through an identical process. O was very excited about the whole thing, and thought it was great fun. He hardly looked back as the teacher took him down the hall without me to be weighed, measured, and tested, though he was a little clingy afterward. His developmental assessment score was excellent, and his hearing and vision both very good. He’s slightly nearsighted, but many kids are at this age. He’s near the top of the charts for height. The evaluator clearly hit it off with him, and told me a bit about how the evaluation went. He answered most questions quickly and easily, but he sometimes had his own ideas about what he’d like to be doing. One test he refused outright within the allowed time, as he proceeded to tell the evaluator all about something related to the zoo, and then he asked for a book. He was, however, very polite and calm other than that, and sat in his chair the whole time (not a strength of his in general). He did very well in patterns and analogies, and knew his colors well. He does have a minor articulation issue with his speech, but doesn’t quite qualify for speech therapy at this point – we were given some information to help him work on that. He speaks freely and has good grammar and a huge vocabulary, but he isn’t always very easy to understand if you don’t know him.

A week later, I took N in for the same evaluation. N has typically had a much more difficult time separating from his parents, so predictably, he was a bit nervous. In the waiting area, he kept telling me, “I will be sad when I go, Mama”. He had his bunny with him, and was doing that fretful thing that he does where he rubs his bunny with one finger and chews on his lower lip. But then – the teacher came out, and off he went with no trouble at all. Forty minutes later, he came back smiling. As we were walking back with the teacher, she said, “I had such a nice time with N – it was a really great ending to my day. He is so sweet and interesting, he just charmed the pants off me today!” His developmental assessment score was also excellent, and his hearing and vision both very good (his vision is actually 20/20 in both eyes – how, with his genes, that’s happening is beyond me, because literally every family member on both sides of the family needs glasses or contacts). He’s near the very top of the charts for height, an inch-and-a-half taller than O and four pounds lighter. When we went over his assessment, he actually got the exact same score as his brother. What was interesting is that they arrived at that same score through completely different strengths. N did very well at counting, answering “why” questions accurately, naming things, giving her the correct amount of blocks when asked, etc. She related something kind of funny to me: when she asked him where his eyes are, he blinked dramatically with a huge grin on his face, but she had to give him “zero”, because he didn’t point to them. His blinky faces have been cracking us up for a while now, actually. Then, in the second part of the test, she asked him why he has eyes. Again, he scored zero points because he didn’t answer in the way the test requires. His answer? Because God gave them to me.

The teacher then told me that I have remarkably calm and focused three-year olds – things which, while very nice for a parent to hear, were admittedly a little surprising too. It’s not that I thought they were holy terrors or anything, but our boys are pretty wiggly little guys. They’ve not exactly been the calmest, most compliant kids in their Early Childhood class, and they get pretty darn keyed up sometimes at home. Sitting still in their seats has not always been particularly easy for them compared to what I see of their peers (though I have lots of friends with girls, for some reason), and judging by last night’s dinner, still isn’t.

But even though I believe that the test they use is at best an imperfect tool, the screening did give me some insight into some things. First, the screeners have the right idea by getting the parents to wait behind. Clearly, they can get more cooperation out of a lot of kids without any power struggles nearby. Parents are usually their kids best teachers, especially at three, but kids will likely also cooperate and behave better for a stranger than a parent, especially during the limit-testing years. Second, I’ve been noticing for at least a year and a half (since the boys were about 18 months old) that they usually behave much better apart than together. The screening was a good example of that. They may grow out of that tendency, but if it still holds a year or two from now, we’ll definitely separate them for kindergarten for that reason alone. They also clearly have very different strengths, and I don’t want them to be compared all the time in such a fishbowl either.

I used to be more concerned about how school would go for N and O. I was a little worried that our boys would be up against the disadvantage that boys often have in the early grades (the disadvantages for girls often coming in the middle-and-high-school years) – being energetic and having more trouble sitting still and with fine motor skills than girls in general at the same age. N also doesn’t transition easily when he’s really focused on something. I’m not really concerned anymore, though –I think that even though they’re high-energy with strong wills, they do, and will do just fine. Even two months ago, sitting in church for the first part of the service and then going up for the children’s sermon was challenging for them both, and now they do just great as long as I take them one at a time (I alternate weeks). By age five, when they can’t go into the nursery anymore, they’ll probably do OK just looking at books or drawing. I think this will be an interesting year at home with O, because he’s much more interested in out-and-out limit-testing and drama than N is (I suspect that age three will be easier with N than age two was, but who knows), but I think preschool, if we ever get in, will be fine. I’m still not ready to describe them as “remarkably calm”, but I’m learning to have more faith that they’ll eventually grow out of their less desirable, age-appropriate tendencies while showing us more and more of the wonderful things that make them who they are.

For O, we see some of that in his “favorite book”.

He likes to look at the diagrams of how houses or toilets are put together, and where all the pipes go. He’s much less destructive than he was a few months ago, and now that he can ask complex questions, he can better meet his insatiable appetite for classifying everything and figuring out how things work in new ways.

His brain is indeed full of analogies – this is like that, but not quite like that. I think we should have named him Linnaeus. He's sweet and affectionate in between dramatic outburst and shows of will.

N is becoming more confident and secure, and he’s full of smiles and life. He counts everything, is starting to sound out letters and show interest in which words on the page correspond with the spoken word, and loves to rhyme, sing, and tap out rhythms. He is obsessed with books and language, and one of the best ways we have hit upon to get him to be a little more flexible in general is to let him (within reason) read his books at his leisure at bedtime. Sometimes he spends an hour sitting in his bed in a crack of daylight from the window, poring over a book about boats, or insects, or anything by Richard Scarry. He seems to get through the day a little better for having had that uninterrupted time to make sense of things for himself – a quality to which I can highly relate!

Friday, April 18, 2008

sprouts

Why is it that there are about 2 minutes between waiting, waiting, waiting anxiously for a bit of sun, for warm breezes, and swelling of buds, and then everything in the garden needing my attention at once? Not that I’m complaining.

Last week: yet another snowstorm, several frosty nights, boots and winter coats, trudging through slush and scraping ice from the windshield. This week: butterflies, Creeping Charlie, shorts and sunhats on preschoolers, and worms in the beaks of hens at my feet.

The compost pile needs turning, the garden and kitchen beds need dressing with compost, seedlings need tending and thinning and dividing and hardening off. The garden bed mulch is uncovered, and I’ve already started watering for the season, as the ground is surprisingly dry. It is busy, but it is a wonderful kind of busy, the kind that leaves one bodily tired at night, satisfied from an hour here and there of satisfied puttering. I make my rounds, digging, tending, turning, the clapclapclap of the neighbor kids’ basketball a steady familiar rhythm, the boys and I getting lungs full of musty, gorgeous earthen decay, insistent birdsongs all around us, my whole body leaning finally into a shovel with a couple of willing apprentices by my side.

And willing they are. I am so cautiously grateful for that, as I’m concerned about their someday rejecting the very thing I love so much. I know that a lot of children of gardening enthusiasts grow up to hate the chores and the weeding and the perceived drudgery of helping out with yard work, and I don’t want that to happen. I want it to be joyful, and right now, it really is. If they prefer to play with their trucks and balls instead of helping me dress beds, that’s fine, but at least right now, they love to help with any of it and they also love to talk about it – about vegetables and bugs, and birds. Today, O said, “We have a tiny farm!” This past week, they’ve watered, composted, sifted compost, dressed the raised beds with compost, helped clean out the chicken run and henhouse, and actually accomplished a significant amount of mulching in between rolling off the mulch pile. My only tax has been spending some extra time washing the dirt from behind their ears and washing the stains out of the knees of their pants—a small price indeed. The best part of all is seeing them feel needed, and competent.

After a three-year hiatus from seed-starting, I’ve pulled out the lights and seed trays and gotten starts going again this year, using mostly past seasons’ seeds. Almost everything germinated well, even the seed that were 5 years old, and the seedlings are looking beautiful. The air in our bedroom is slightly spicy and fecund as I wake to the timer switching on the lights at 7:30 AM, and several times a day, I peek to see what is happening. Aside from keeping on top of what needs dividing, the thinning is by far the hardest part.

I’ve read that the Scotts have a tradition of exchanging the task of thinning rows with a neighbor, because who, in the first days of Spring verily bursting forth after months of waiting, can stand taking a sharp pair of shears and felling half of one’s very own perfectly healthy cotyledons? Brutal.

When we aren't mucking around in the dirt, the boys are usually either reading books with us or playing one of their increasingly complex games. This game was called "flying to Holland", made possible by their car seats. As you can see, they hit a little turbulance at one point. No stuffed animals were hurt, thank goodness.



Saturday, April 5, 2008

what we do in between snowstorms

We go to the park and avoid the dirty snow and giant puddles:








we complain a little


but we make ourselves feel better by trying on last year's sun hat and this year's sandals*:


We go on boat rides in the living room. "watch out for the water, Mama! It's getting higher and higher!


We study for our upcoming trip to Holland:




We grab two bowls from the drawer and two chairs and have "cake" with our blocks.


Mama has her own diversions, some of which involve vegetable seeds, seed-starting spreadsheets and stacks of gardening books from the library::






We join some members of our church (and hundreds of other people from area churches) and meet on the La*ke Street bridge to ask and pray for peace in Iraq after five years of war.


We get our picture taken with the mayor of Minneapolis while we are there:


And Ollie falls asleep in the afternoon for the first time in about a week:


On the rare days that are warm and not full of rain and snow, we have picnics by the Mississippi River bluffs :










"Look, Mama! What is that? It's green!"


We put on the snowman sweaters one more time and try Daddy's shoes on for size:


*Both fit. Ollie needs a new hat, which I found at Saver's for him, and I bought the exact same Tar*get sandals that worked so well last year, but 2 sizes up. Always good to have covered toes the first year you ride a tricycle!

we are fwee!


Well, I may be 2 weeks late in reporting this news, but the boys are now officially "preschoolers" and not "toddlers". We still don't know for certain where they'll be going to preschool, but they're three, and three-year-olds are not toddlers anymore.

Omie and Opa were in town for a visit, so both sides of the family celebrated together. We dressed the boys in their outfits from Holland, and Auntie Je*n and Uncle Da*ve brought a big boquet of balloons with them.





Ollie has rightly observed that we don't have much pink in our house. He was mighty pleased to have a pink balloon.

They received many lovely gifts, but the most instant hit that afternoon was a pair of harmonicas from Uncle Ph*l and Auntie Me*gan. Mea*gan confessed that she had resisted the temptation to buy them harmonicas when she was still living with us. I figure she has many possible childbearing years left for me to return the favor.


Grandma was the life of the party, since she was dressed in a bunny suit to go pick up her friends from the airport. This type of behavior is a tradition among this particular group of friends. I'm glad she got the coconut bra out of the way before all the grandkids were born. You know, good example and all that...






It was the first time in a while that the boys and Opa had seen each other. They had all kinds of games together, and the boys were very excited to share their toy tractors with him so, as No*ah put it, "Opa would not be lonely for his tractor".





My mom stayed a few extra days, and we had a nice little routine going before she had to leave.



We spent a lot of time talking about and planning for our upcoming trip to Holland. Here, Omie is looking through the Holland picture book she gave us. She and Opa also gave the boys beautiful little backpacks for their trip.



Saying goodbye:






Since their birthday, we've had two sizable snow storms and we're in the middle of a snow/ice/thunderstorm as I write. The ground is still frozen, they're still quite a bit of ice on the lakes, and there is nary a crocus to be seen. I always follow the local advice not to uncover my flower beds until mid-April unless it is a very early Spring, and once again, that advice is spot on. There are an awful lot of Minnesota gardeners who've spent the evening re-covering their beds with mulch in the sleet. It is winter, Mama, the boys say to me every day. I've stopped correcting them. The good news, though, is that the boys play so happily on their own outside these days that I should be able to get lots of gardening done this year if spring ever does decide to join us.