Pest Control in the Barn

Everyone (including me) is always looking to build a better mouse (rat) trap.  The chicken snake we talked about last night are pretty good at killing rats.  Trouble is, they always opt for eating eggs and we have to get rid of them.  The rat population expands and then it is time to do something about them.  Two nights this week I walked out to the barn to eradicate (or e-rat-icate) them.

For the task I use the old trusty Marlin lever action .22 rifle, a headlamp with a red light, and Pest Control load.  I call it rat shot.  It is a .22 long rifle bullet that has a tip with lots of little bb's.  When you fire it at the rats, it is like a shotgun blast.  It takes out the rat, but doesn't have the power to go through the side of the barn.

I generally wait until around 10 pm.  I walk out to the barn quietly and turn the red light on.  Leaving the light off in the barn, I stealthily open the gate.  The rats see the light and scurry across the rafters of the barn, their eyes glowing in the red glare.  Pop!  One rat tumbles to the ground, flopping on the ground.  Staying focused, I look around and spot another.  He thinks he's hiding, but his eyes give away his position.  Pop!  Another rat in a death-roll.  

Then there's dead silence.  There's more rats out there, but they've gone incognito.  I'll give them a few days to get over the carnage and then I'll go rat hunting again.  

People on the TV show, "Alone" would skin this rat up and eat it.  Not me.  Tonight I'll have leftover smoked meatloaf and smoked macaroni and cheese for supper!  

The Serpent in the Hen House

14 And the Lord God said unto the serpent, Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and above every beast of the field; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life:

15 And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.  Genesis 3:14-15

That, of course, is the Biblical story of the fall.  Adam and Eve were beguiled by the serpent and ate of the fruit that they were forbidden to eat.  It all started from questioning the Creator when He knows best.  Good wisdom for us today.  Life has a way of humbling most folks and we come to realize that God knows what he's doing.  He's put safeguards, commandments, and standards in place to protect us.

The woman on Our Maker's Acres Family Farm had a run-in with a serpent in the hen house this week, and yes, there was enmity between the serpent and the woman.  Tricia opened the nesting boxes so that the hens could begin laying their (precious and expensive) eggs.  When she opened one of the boxes, there was a chicken snake in the box.  We call them chicken snakes, but I think the official name is the Texas Rat Snake.  Snakes, apparently, are no respecter of borders, as he's about 70 miles over the border.

The snake was almost as frightened of the woman as the woman was of it.  The serpent tried heroically to make an escape, but alas, it was not to be.  For the snake had swallowed a ceramic egg that we keep in the hen house, and when he tried to slither through the fencing that lines the bottom of the boxes, his girth was now too wide to get through the fencing.  His greed had trapped him.  Ordinarily, if it was a real egg, it would have burst.  Ceramic eggs don't burst.  Tricia picked up a shovel and then a steel pipe and killed the snake.  

The Battle of the Bulge

That bulge is the ceramic egg.  Ordinarily, the ceramic egg will give the snake a really bad case of constipation and he would die.  Sad, but our land borders some woods.  If you don't somewhat control the snakes, you won't get eggs.  I've got to get my ceramic egg back.  Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle, right?  I cut the snake in two right above the bulge.

I used my foot to coax the fake egg out of the snake.

And here we are.  I got our egg back.  I tossed it right back in the box.  You'll notice it has an "X" marked on it with a Sharpie.  They look so real that we were picking them up when we picked up eggs each afternoon.  The X lets us know that it's a fake egg and to leave it alone.  Apparently, snakes haven't cracked that code, yet.

We welcome the snakes to come eat the rats.  We have plenty of those in the barn and hen house.  Rats move, however.  An egg is a stationary target and is easier for the snakes to get a quick meal.  This one paid a high price for his egg breakfast in the drive thru line.

The Measuring Stick

I was rummaging through our pantry the other day and ran across a family heirloom.  A yardstick, of all things!  Who uses yardsticks anymore?  This is more than just a yardstick, though.  I've broken it up in two photos as I couldn't get the whole 3 feet of it within on camera frame where you could still read it.  Here's the first part:

And here's the second:

This yardstick was produced and given to customers of The Kinder Supermarket, but I'm getting ahead of myself.  I'll back up.  My grandfather, we called him "Poppy" was originally from South Dakota.  His people immigrated from Norway and settled in South Dakota.  Life was hard - very hard.  I've read a book called "Giants in the Earth" that chronicle a hard-fought battle for existence in that cold, desolate (at that time) land.  People were tough!  Men were men!  My grandfather's family tied a rope from their home to the barn, so that in blizzard conditions, they could hang on to the rope and make it to the barn without becoming lost and frozen.  Cabin fever was a very real thing in those winters.  Families succumbed to the hardships and elements and lifelong dreams were lost.  Our story doesn't end there.

As America prepared for World War II, men from across the fruited plain descended upon Camp Claiborne in Forest Hill, Louisiana.  Over 500,000 men trained there to find combat readiness to meet Hitler's war machine.  In fact at one time, if it was a city, Camp Claiborne would have been the third largest city in Louisiana.  My grandfather would find himself training to face the enemy in Louisiana, far from his home. 

But my grandmother, who lived in nearby Oakdale, Louisiana, found herself at a USO dance at Camp Claiborne, and the rest, as they say, is history.  They were married, my mom was born and my grandfather was in the Battle of the Bulge.  After the war, my grandfather came back stateside and was the proprietor of The Kinder Supermarket.  In addition to being an entrepreneur, Poppy was on the Town Council of Kinder, a leader in his church, active in the Rotary Club and a friend to all who knew him.  He was a devoted husband, father, and grandfather.  After Poppy's passing, my uncle John would manage the store and I would have the honor of doing so as well, celebrating its 50th anniversary.

The measuring stick.  As I think about it, what an apt metaphor.  I am biased, I know, but Poppy was a giant in the earth.  In my eyes, he WAS a measuring stick.  He had his faults, sure, but there was something about him that was different.  I can recall him washing our hands as kids in the bathroom.  He'd stop the drain in the sink and soap our hands.  He didn't run the water as he didn't want to waste it.  He would tell us that we were the best kids in the world.  We weren't, not even close to it, but he told us that anyway.  

He had a kind, giving nature to him.  He gave many paper bags of groceries to people who needed it.  He would pick up a man down the street that had cerebral palsy and drive him to church every Sunday morning.  He would compost before composting was the thing to do, telling us that it took 100 years to create an inch of topsoil.  That has always stuck with me.  He taught us LOTS of things.

When things in the news shock me today, I dig my heels in.  I don't want to go where this moral relativistic culture is trying to drag us.  I often think "What would Poppy think about things going on today in culture, politics, public discourse?"  There IS right and wrong.  Poppy was a man who stood strong on his convictions of right and wrong.  He was a man of great character and integrity.  Faith and family were of utmost importance to him.  I know this all sounds like cliché, but it was real.  Most days I feel like I just don't measure up, but my grandfather was the real deal.

A Colorful Walk

Don't you just love Spring!  After a dull, grey, rainy winter, it seems the switch has been turned.  Mid-80's in the afternoons, sunshine and bright green growth on most every tree (except pecan trees).  Some days, Tricia and I take a stroll in the yard and just enjoy the beauty of God's creation.

We have a little concrete bench by the big old live oak tree.  We sit here and read the mail when the weather is nice.  The entire area around it is engulfed in wild African violets.  I'll put off mowing until they're finished blooming as they are nice to look at.

In total contrast with the rich green and vibrant violet colors, I was walking through a portion of the garden where I'm saving broccoli seed and waiting for the pods to dry out and turn brown.  The broccoli plants are almost dead and the big brown leaves of the broccoli cover the ground.  In the midst of the drab color, there's a spark of red.  A ladybug!

Ladybugs are beneficial insects in the garden.  I like them in the garden as they eat aphids and other small insects.  As a guy, I feel sorry for the male ladybugs, though.  As a bug that was a dude, it would bother me to be a 'ladybug.'

I have beets growing in the garden at all different stages.  The photo below shows Detroit Red beets in front and Bull's Blood beets in the back.

On the very next row is Rainbow Swiss Chard.  The stalks are brightly colored, as the name suggests - some pink, others white, and others yellow.  We had swiss chard and buckwheat as a tasty side dish tonight.

And speaking of brightly colored things, it's azalea time!  Twenty five years ago we lived in Kinder, LA, in the home that was my grandmother and grandfather's home at one time.  When we moved to our home here, my sister and brother-in-law moved in and took out the azaleas.  We were able to get some of them and replant them in the yard.  One of them survived.  I think they are Formosa Azaleas.

Each year at this time, it fills with beautiful blooms and we get lots of photos of it.  I've often said, it is nice to have plants with a history.  Plants that remind you of people you love and times you cherish.

In addition to being pretty, the plant serves a purpose.  We have one of those ugly telephone markers.  You've seen them.  I think they call them bollards, but they are filled with wires.  It's just not something that you want as the centerpiece of your front yard.  Well, we planted my grandma's azalea in front of it and now... voila!  No more telephone obstacle in the front yard (that you can see, anyway.)

There must be an animal that hides out in the foliage, though.  Everytime Belle passes by the azalea, she sniffs and is real curious.

I hope you are enjoying spring as much as we are!

Three Stages of Life in the Garden

The first thing is asparagus.  We planted some asparagus over a decade ago.  What a faithful producer.  Each year it comes up and we snap the spears off and eat them.  I know where they pop up so I generally just plant around them.  This year, they'll share space with Roma II Italian Snap Beans.

We snap them off at the base.  They make a delightful snap.

This young one popping up reminds me of "Junior Asparagus" from the VeggieTales cartoons that the kids used to watch when they were much younger.

So we have lots of items popping up in the garden.  We also have crops finishing up.  Here are some broccoli that are flowering.  We picked pounds of florets.  Finally, we let them go to flower.  The honeybees are really enjoying them.  I'm letting the broccoli go to seed.  I'll harvest the seed pods as they mature and save seeds for this fall planting.

You can also see the cabbage that's maturing.

As it warms, the snails really like to get in the broccoli.  Tricia asked if I could hurry and pick all the cabbage remaining and store them in a box in the fridge.  So I harvested all the cabbage.  I needed that room to plant zucchini squash anyway.

I heard the food processor whirring in the kitchen and stepped in just in time to see Tricia chopping up some of the cabbage and mixing with whey and salt to make a couple of quarts of homemade Sauer kraut.

Sure looks good.  She'll leave at room temperature for a couple of days and then will put them in the fridge.  Then we will put in the fridge.  The flavor gets better as time passes on.

More on the garden coming up in future posts...

The North Star

Yesterday night, Tricia and I were walking with Belle, our dog, around the yard.  It was quiet, except for the occasional passing car.  The night air was crisp, no mosquitoes yet, and the stars shone brilliantly in the sky.  It was a peaceful, enjoyable evening.  My wife and I talked about important questions that often plague us, including questions of existential import like, "If you had to choose, would you rather have a slice of pecan pie, chocolate cream pie, or coconut cream pie?"  (Coconut cream pie won, but I would choose to have a sliver of each one!)

As we looked up while walking due west, two 'stars' caught our eyes.  Can you see them?  They are directly in the middle of the photograph below - one brighter than the other.

I've never been real good at identifying constellations.  I had to come in and search for the answer on the computer.  Here is a zoomed in photo of the 'stars' for a better reference point.

As it turns out, they aren't stars at all.  They're planets.  Venus is the brighter one on top and Jupiter is the dimmer one on the bottom.  As the month of March goes on, Venus will climb higher and Jupiter will drop lower.  By the end of March, Jupiter will be hard to spot as it will be low on the horizon.  Very interesting to me!

This morning in church, the preacher told a somewhat related story that I'll try to recount.  I love the movie "Lonesome Dove".  We just finished watching 1883.  Both shows had a cook who drove the chuck wagons.  They were memorable characters.  The cook's primary job was to ensure that the cowboys received three hearty meals each day.  It was hot, tiring work and a treacherous journey, with many pitfalls along the way.  They were driving cattle from Texas to the rail head in Kansas City.  

But the cook had another responsibility that could not be overlooked.  After cooking the evening meal and cleaning up, the last thing that the cook would do before bedding down for the night, would be to take the tongue of the chuck wagon and point it toward the North Star.  You see, during  daylight hours, the North Star wasn't visible and familiar landmarks may not be easily discernable.  At nighttime, however, the North Star was there pointing you toward your destination.

There's a spiritual truth here.  Jesus is our North Star.  He is the Word made flesh.  This old world we're living in has many distractions, signs pointing the wrong way, familiar landmarks obscured by the 'wisdom' of man.  Oh, what folly we fall prey to in our journey.  These all are broad paths that lead to destruction.  There's a narrow way, however, that leads to life and Jesus is pointing the way.  In fact, He is the Way.  May we always ensure our wagon is pointed in the right direction, toward Jesus!

There's an old country song by Red Steagall, called "The Wagon Tongue," that tells the story of making sure your wagon is headed in the right direction.  The chorus is in bold below as well as the video of the song.  I think you'll enjoy it.

Life is like a grassy sea,
The trail ain’t always plain.
One may lead to pleasure
And the other lead to pain.
But you’ll never lose direction
And you’ll know just where you are,
If you’ll always point your wagon tongue
Toward the old North Star.

Let's make sure our wagon is pointed toward Jesus!

The Hatch!

We've had 42 eggs from our hens on the incubator.  We watched the roosters and saw that they were "being romantic" with the hens.  Then we collected eggs for three days and filled the incubator with them.  Our little incubator has a rotator that automatically turns them.  We monitored the temperature and ensured that it stayed at 100 degrees.

At one point all of our chickens were Barred Rocks.  Then we got some Aracaunas because we like the blue and green eggs.  Then we got Rhode Island Reds because they are a prolific brown egg layer.  Later people gave us some hens and roosters they no longer wanted.  Over the years our flock has become a 'melting pot' of sorts.  

On Friday evening, we removed the egg rotator and just laid the eggs on the floor of the incubator.  The rotator could crush them.  Saturday we started to hear baby chicks.  For the next 3 days, the chicks hatched out.  You can see we have black chicks, white chicks, red chicks and yellow chicks.  We also have some that are brown and black.  They're all cute little things.

As they dried under the heat of the incubator, we moved them and the broken egg shells out to make room for the chicks yet to hatch out.

We brought them outside to our little brooder we have set up in the back yard.  It's neat to watch their instincts.  One day old and when we put the heat lamp on, it attracted bugs.  The baby chicks immediately started eating bugs.

After 3 days passed, we gave up hope for the remaining to hatch.  There were 17 eggs (of the 42 that didn't hatch out.  Feel blessed that you aren't smelling what this smells like!  The eggs and liquid in the bottom of the incubator is really, really smelly.  I brought these out to the garden and put them in the compost pile.

One of the 17 eggs that didn't hatch, had a chick inside that couldn't quite make it out.  She had pecked, but couldn't complete the job.  The other 16 must not have been fertilized, although I didn't want to break them open to confirm.

Here's a cool looking little chick!

This one, I think, is a cross between a Rhode Island Red and an Aracauna.

So out of the 42 eggs originally put in the incubator, 17 did not hatch.  That left us with 25 baby chicks.  Four of those babies died.  We currently have 21.  A 50% survival rate.  Here's the other thing we learned: Half of those will be hens.  So only 10 of those will actually be egg layers.  That's what we're trying to do is add layers to our existing flock to make up for those that have died of old age and predation.  We may have to get another batch of eggs in the incubator!