Chicken Hill Ramblings



View at the top of Abbey Pond

       Hoop house experiments, chicken ponderings, hiking musings, chili cook-offs and relaxation have all been blog topics I’ve rambled on about. How am I faring with all those? 

       This year in Monkton we are in a holding pattern, winter is eluding us.  Many are wondering  do we skip winter and dare start thinking glorious spring-time thoughts? Wait just one second. Yes, rain is forecasted for the beginning of February with 40 degree temps. This is CRAZY. If this was a real winter I’d be low on firewood and accepted the extra pair of long johns as a second skin by now. Not this year.   

I picked kale, carrots and some
micro greens on February 1st!



      Recently I walked into my hoop house to find I was able to still pull carrots and I took a moment to taste the micro greens, they were still scrumptious.  Not long ago on a really cold night I neglected to cover up the greens in the hoop house.  When I realized my mistake, I said to my husband (while we were soaking in the hot tub)…“I’m done with this experiment.” And to be fair my goal had originally been to see if we could eat out of the hoop house until the end of December  We were well into January.

     The other day a friend and I took a walk down the hillside to see how the hoophouse was faring.  I was surprised to see the micro greens still alive and after discovering how good they tasted, decided to cover them with blankets in hopes to further extend the growing season.  Today, February 1st,  I wandered down to pick a container of greens for our evening meal.  Grandma’s hope chest, which some might remember as a late planting experiment earlier this past fall, is still filled with tiny micro greens, not big enough to  harvest but they are still hanging on. The heat sink or black barrel filled with water has only frozen solid a couple of times and on a warm day I can remove the lid and see glistening water.  Many people are talking about how this weird weather is going to affect the maple syrup industry and what will happen to our ornamental trees, shrubs and perennials due to inadequate snow cover and unpredictable rollercoaster temperatures. It sure has been an odd winter. 



Lilac enjoying a drink
of water.

     My chickens admittedly don't mind the warmer temperatures. I've found that Plymouth Barred Rocks are the hardiest members of my flock. About half of my original birds have returned back to the earth. The White Leghorns were my best egg-layers but also the weakest birds, followed by Rhode Island Reds. It is amusing that the chickens I have the deepest connection to and the least connection with are my survivors. Lilac, my sole surviving White Leghorn has multiple birth defects including a misshapen foot.  And Rob refers to it as her shovel foot.  She is one of the lowest birds in the pecking order and the friendliest. Always the first to greet guest and to jump up in a lap to steal some warmth. Comb-over (the bleeder) is one aloof bird, who has had multiple coats of Blu Kote applied to her series of wounds.  She looks at everyone with distrustful eyes.  Baby, Biggie Fry and Good Red all take turns to jump up on my lap and to enjoy a few pats and a bit of cuddling. These trusting souls will take a few moments to close their eyes emitting a snoring noise almost as if to say “Your lap is a peaceful place to visit.”

Looking out the top of the fire tower on
Spruce Mountain in Plainfield, VT

       I was out promoting the Monkton Community Coffeehouse's  annual Chili Cook-Off, hanging posters recently when  I stopped for a bowl of soup and picked up a newspaper, something I rarely do. Inside I found that a young, past co-worker had died while hiking. I was shocked as this young man was a super fit hiker and the last person I would expect to see a death notice for. I don’t know all the details and much is left to conjecture, but it seems he had an accident on the trail, was hiking alone and froze to death. After this I started to really question my winter hiking. My husband worked at trying to dissuade my fears sighting that we always hike as a couple or with at least one other person. We try to be careful with food, water and extra layers. But there have been times that we’ve pushed the envelope, getting late starts, not carrying flash lights, emergency blankets, etc. I struggled a short while aknowledging some fears and pondering about how fragile life is. But in the end I realized that if you live in fear of living you aren’t living. So we continue to hike.  Shortly after hearing of Levi’s passing our small hiking group was schelduled for  a hike.  It fell on one of the coldest days we’ve had this winter. A clear and somewhat sunny 7 degree day. I took great care in choosing what I wore and carried with me.  On the trail I thought about Levi and what a wonderful person he was.  And at the close of that 3 & ½ hour hike, when I started to lose feeling in my butt and parts of my face,  I was happy to be climbing into the car to head to a warmer environment and proud that I could continue to live.  You can’t let fear get in your way but do allow for it to influence you to make wiser choices then you might normally make.

      The tiny town of Monkton experienced an AMAZING evening on January 28^th.   I’m proud as it was a moment that I will always remember. The third annual Monkton Community Coffeehouse's Chili Cook-Off was a huge success. I headed up this event with countless others and it brought the town together all under one roof. Over 150 people seemingly enjoyed food, conversations and some dancing. I felt such pride for my community as 4-H, scouts, and many other volunteers came together to cook, clean, serve, problem solve and participate in an event that was just plain and simple fun! Kudos for EVERYONE involved in taking part in that evening. 

This photo taken by Buzz Kuhns, shows a sampling of the
crowd at the Chili Cook-Off.  It is estimated that 150-
175 people came together to eat chili! 



      Winter is at a standstill and I can breath a sigh of relief as I don’t have any big projects on the horizon.  I will enjoy some ME time.  I’ve stepped up my yoga practice to twice a week and sometimes make it to bone builder classes.

I've also started a Monkton book group and the latest read is a memoir by Melissa Coleman.  Daughter of Eliot Coleman, as in Eliot Coleman THE garden guru that I often speak of!  It's a story of back to the land living during the 70's and beyond that I can't tell you much because I've just picked it up.    

      Meanwhile, I dream of the scent of bark mulch and the feel of warm earth between my fingers. The Chicken Hill ladies probably wish for sunny peat dust baths and kicking up leaf litter to unearth tasty insects.