Going to the Salon

My first trip to the "Salon" with 20 birds was a tense experience. First of all I have to drive out to the mountains with the prospect of going to this place alone. The 20 birds in the back of the truck do not count as company. After a few of my experiences driving to other farms for birds, lets just say I'm a little leery, to say the least. Of course Bruce was not helpful at all. He is winding me up by telling me to "be prepared for the smell". What the heck does he mean, farm smell, animal smell, red neck smell? So now I'm picturing crazy people out of the Chain Saw Massacre movie, running around with hatchets. There would be animal bodies all over the place part and pieces here and there. He calms me down and tells me that he meant farm poopy smell.

Well what the heck, I'm used to that, so off I go to the Salon. I finally arrive at the Salon, which could pass for a combination of Deliverance and Texas Chain Saw Massacre without the body or animal parts in piles. Getting out of my truck I notice a flock of 20 or 30 geese looking at me. These were big huge white geese, all watching me very closely. The building that I need to go into is past the geese, which can be aggressive. Slowly I stroll past these creatures, talking nicely to them like that might help. Suddenly a very large Pig, from out of no where runs up to me. I don't know if you have ever seen a very large pig, person to person, without a pen, to separate you from it, I do not recommend it. Mr. Piggy came up to my waist, now the geese do not seem so bad, they don't have teeth. This behemoth sniffed me, gives a snort and goes oinking away. Now I'm almost to the building and can see nearest door that looks like it might open. The other door I just passed walking with Mr. Piggy had a lock on it.

Finally I get inside the building. It is a small room with a furnace, a door and no one in sight. Usually I'm not the type to panic but I hate going to strange places alone, especially in the mountains, on a farm, with lots of animals that could make all your body parts disappear easily. I have no choice but to go thru the next door. This door leads to a long hallway with more closed doors, oh joy. I choose to go left, entering the farthest door on my right. I'm in the right building this is the room where the animals are kept until the salon is ready for them. Now I start to relax, this is interesting, all stainless steel equipment. I start to back track to pick another door, I'm getting brave now and I can finally hear voices. Slowly I walk up to the door I picked and call out, no one answers, so I knock on it. Still there is no answer so what the heck I just open the door and peeked in. There were three men smoking and telling jokes, I walk in and introduce myself. The big guy who seems to be running the show promptly tells me to leave my birds and come back later. They will not have a chance to process them until much later in the day, telling me "that’s what your husband always does".

Now I know this is a lie, Bruce has never let out birds out of his sight. We have been warned that certain facilities will switch out the birds after they have been processed with birds of a lesser quality. Our birds are raised humanely, with an organic soy-free diet in a very well cared for environment. Most other farms do not take the care to do this, no matter what they are advertising. Believe me, we have seen these farms first hand and this place was one of them.


So now I have to act blond and yes it does help that I am a blond. Responding to Porky (the man) I tell him that "it was such a long drive, I'll just wait in my truck until he has the time to process my birds". I did bring a book with me just in case this did happen to me. Bruce warned me that he would try to convince me to leave the birds on the farm, unattended. The other two men in the room start to grumble how none of the other customers for the day have shown up yet, so why not start on my order first? Porky starts to grumble along with them and after a few minutes of this crap, he decides to process my birds first. Imagine that, I'm the only customer there (which is not comforting to me at all) and suddenly he can now process my birds first, especially after I told him that I was not leaving and would wait for them.

While cursing Bruce under my breath, I now have to figure out how to unload one hundred pounds of birds by my self. I decide to ask one of the less scary looking guys, who agrees happily to help me. Okay, I'm feeling a bit better, the first step, third steps or what ever steps are done. I've made it to the farm, made into the building, alive and now the birds are unloaded. I just have to get through the actual "processing".
The two nicer guys are the ones who do the all the dirty work, Porky keeps to him self in is room acting important. I stuck it out all the way through the whole procedure. The rooms are all cement, stainless steel and clean. The two men do a fast and excellent job, telling me how great and healthy my birds look. This I thought was a harmless comment, later I found out my response led to much entertainment for all three of them. Stupidly, I thanked them for their comments about my birds. Then I mentioned the care and feed for our birds is important to achieve the quality of flavor that our customers expect. Yes I know I'm stupid to even attempt to get this point across to these three people, in the mountains, on a farm from deliverance, where I am the only female or so I thought.

Our birds are all done, bagged, legally weighed and now I have to get the coolers out of my truck and pack them in ice for the ride home. While I'm searching to for the ice machine, much to my surprise I run into a woman working in this place. She was also out of the Chain Saw Massacre movie or was it Deliverance, I'm not sure. She was very nice and pleasant offering to help me fill the coolers with ice, as she cackled with her cigarette charred voice. This was nice to be offered help, by this point I just needed to run, run fast away and go home. The white hair, almost died a color that matched my hair color, didn't bother me too much. The missing teeth, okay, I can deal with that also, but the cigarette voice with the Long Island accent and finding out this old woman was my age, was too much. I loaded my coolers into the truck as if I was lifting empty coolers, slammed the tailgate closed ran back inside to pay Porky.

As I skidded to a stop outside the office door to catch my breath I could hear Porky and his two employees making jokes about special "flavor injections". OMG I know what they are really hinting at and now I have to go in there to pay Porky who is laughing over his lewd jokes at my expense. Now I'm really cursing Bruce out, in figuring that they will never find my body and CSI will have to be called in. Calmly I barge into the office, pretend not to know what they are talking about and ask how much I owe, pay my bill and bolt for the door. Mean while they are still making jokes and laughing harder, thinking that the stupid blond woman does not get their hilarious comments. The worst part is I do understand everything they are saying and I am a natural strawberry blond, this sucks and I'm at a dead run for my truck. Jumping into the cab I lock the doors, start the truck back it up and almost run over a strange little man driving one of those old diesel rabbits. I don't care if I have drive over the top of him, I keep moving, he stops and I swerve around the car and take off out the driveway. All I can think of is next time, if I ever have to come to this hell place again, I'm bringing my mommy with me, that way they can have two bodies to look for when they call in CSI.

Now the good part, much too every ones relief, we have a new salon to take our birds for processing. This facility is on a nice clean family run farm. No rude remarks, only intelligent, polite conversation with kind people who love their, farm, children, work and life. Some things happen for a reason, even if it is hard to see at first.

If any one would like more information about which markets are supplied by this farm, let me know. You will be shocked.

Chicken Poop Adventures

(Pepi)

(Lucy in her broody trance)
Chicken poop adventures are a daily occurrence for me. Every time I go to collect eggs, I have to crawl under one of the roosting poles to get into the nesting coop. There is usually at least one chicken and a turkey roosting on that pole. The whole time I'm telling them "don't poop on my head, don't poop on my head". Then in the coop I have to reach down under another roosting pole with 1/2 dozen chickens sleeping on it. This is the "big girl coop". While I start the chant again, "please don't poop on my head", I'm reaching into the nesting boxes, feeling for eggs, sometimes under a sleeping chicken. Many times the first thing I grab is not the prize I'm looking for.
In the last nesting box sits Lucy, my little red Cochin bantam. Maybe there will be one or two stray eggs in another nesting box where Harriet is sleeping, but the majority of eggs are laid in one sacred bottom box. Every day the girls line up 3 to 4 deep waiting to enter this sacred box. The ruckus this causes in the coop can be heard in the house with all the doors closed. Once all the eggs have been deposited, Lucy then parks herself in this box for the night hoping to claim all the eggs for her self.
I start poking around under Lucy removing 3, 4, 5 sometimes 12 eggs from beneath this tiny bird. She gives me a little peck and a squeaky protest but falls right back to sleep, egg less. The fun begins when I start out of the coop, banging my head on the poop encrusted roosting pole, where a giant turkey is resting. The turkey gives me the stink eye for the disturbance. I curse leaving the pen knowing that my day is now complete. The birds are fed, eggs picked and the poop is in my hair again….
To top off the whole daily routine of poop in my hair, that darn Bantam rooster Pepi bounces off my butt, while I'm doing the crawl into the big girls coop, then runs like hell. As if bumping my head into the poopy roost isn't enough I have Pepi jumping me when ever he can. The results of Pepi's behavior dooms him to spend time under my arm while I'm doing my barn chores. Supposedly this will show him who is boss???? Not working yet.

What is it with me and poop?

(Mr. Quackers with Petunia, Penelope and Deililah)
I had finally tracked down Muscovy female ducks for breeding. I called one of my girlfriends and offer to pick up 3 girls for her (2 of her ducks flew off) and 3 for me, only if the farm is not to scary. So it's all arranged, I'll go pick up the birds. I find the farm very easily; you could see it from the road, which is an understatement; I'm taking another trip to Deliverance and Chainsaw Massacre all over again. I pull up to the house/shack and try to decide which set of rickety stairs to climb so I can knock on the "door". Luckily someone comes out of the door and it is the woman I talked to on the phone. I have to admit she is a very pleasant and I relaxed a bit. Slowly I look around and take in the whole "farm". OMG, it's not that bad, sort of. Whew, I'm not going to be chopped up into pieces today!
There are animals everywhere. I'm seeing Ducks, Geese, Lambs, Goats, Chickens, Guineas and I'm sure there was more I did not see. They are all over the place, some in cages/shelters/pens, some loose running wild. Everyone looks healthy but let's just say I'm lucky the ground is frozen, this calmed down the farm odor. I back up my car to this one "building" (I use that term loosely) so we can start catching us some ducks! Let me tell you these people knew what they were doing. They whipped out a huge net and headed into the "building". I of course did not go into the "building" but 6 ducks were produced from this "building". Meanwhile outside, one by one the ducks were handed off to me for loading into the cage in the back of my Volvo wagon. Yes, I now notice that the cage does not have a blanket underneath it. Oh well, It won't be that bad, right? We were done in no time at all.
All the ducks are loaded; I paid for them, now I'm off to deliver Barbs 3 ducks. Right away I notice the odor they smell like dirty farm and sheep/duck poop. That’s not too bad? Then they start pooping or squirting out poop in the cage/car. The six girls are very nervous and pooping like crazy all the way to Barbs house (30 minute ride). I arrive; it is frigid and brutal cold outside. One by one I grab the ducks out of the cage. These beasties are crazy strong, flapping and kicking. Muscovy's have claws on the end of their webbed feet that now are covered in duck poop. Barb and I decide it would be better to clip these crazy girls' wings first thing, before releasing them in her yard. I'm holding the bird, smearing poop down my coat, my pants, and gloves while Barb clips the feathers. Poop flys into my hair and all over Barb as they flap, not to mention the back of my car. Then the wind would gust the feather clippings into my car so they could stick into the poop. We clipped their wings very quickly, we say our good bye's. I take my coat and gloves off; toss them onto the floor of my car. This is one memory I'm sure Barb and I will not forget easily and yes it was still fun!
I could not wait to get home and get my poopy smeared pants off and clean up. I hit the house and Bruce meets me at the door, he needed to go to the ER in Albany. Something is very wrong with one of his eyes. We toss Dimples, Daphne and Delilah into their pen, hop into the car an off we go, poop and all to Albany Med Hospital.

Pumpkin

Life has been a little crazy lately, more so then usual. Our precious little orange dog Pumpkin started a new hobby recently. Pumpkin who we lovingly call Demon, Agent Orange, Urchin, and Creature from the Orange Lagoon, Pumpinator, The Beast, seems to always find herself in trouble on a daily basis. We honestly don't know how she thinks up enough stuff to get herself into so much trouble. Maybe because she is half Beagle, very stubborn and a smarty paws. Pumpkins latest "hobby" or escapade involved her collecting eggs one by one and burying them, only to dig them up later and have a yummy snack.
Suddenly we noticed a dramatic drop in our egg production and found the chickens hiding what few eggs we could fine in odd places. For some orange reason they were afraid to lay in their nesting boxes. We found eggs all over the yard, upstairs in the barn, downstairs in the workshop, in a bucket, on a bail of open wood chips, everywhere. Not one egg was deposited in the nice nesting boxes we built for them. Then one morning Pumpkin went running up to me showing off the egg in her mouth. I tried to get her to drop it, no such luck, Pump ran off at high puppy speeds to bury her prize. Of course I followed, watched her bury the egg, and then retrieved it. This happened a few more times and then she broke an egg, discovering how yummy they are. That was it; the egg internment would only last a few hours then dug up for snack time. That short period of time in the ground must have added some special flavor.
It took us a week or so to figure out the tie between Pumpkin, the birds, the eggs disappearances and the daily egg hunts for hidden treasure. Pumpkin was stealing the eggs away while the birds were still laying them, terrifying the poor things, chasing them out of their nesting boxes. We decided to try an experiment, lock Pump in for the day and go to work. Don't worry grandma came up to let her little grand puppy outside for pee-pees.
That evening when I went out to pick eggs, there were actually a few more eggs, imagine that. Then pumpkin tried to steal an egg before I could collect it. I caught her red pawed, or should say saw her. The stinker ran off and ate her snack; after all she didn't have any eggs all day. Now we have only one choice, out came infamous "collar of shame".
Pumpkin is the sweetest dog on the planet. She charms kisses out of strangers, snuggles endlessly and has the saddest beagle face you have ever seen. But Pumpkin knows the collar of shame very well. In 25 years of having dogs I have never had to resort to the collar of shame. I hated doing this but it's either no eggs and a fat dog with egg breath or the collar of shame. She is just one stubborn girl.
Off I go to dig through my work kitchen drawes, find the collar and install it around the little orange demons neck. If looks could kill, I would have been dog food. Pump snorts, glares at me with narrowed eyes and goes off to pout in the kitchen. She is not a stupid dog, just stubborn and very smart.
The next morning, on goes the collar and we go off to do chores. I'm stepping out of the barn, guess who is trotting out of the chicken pen door, with an egg in her orange mouth. This time I've caught her red pawed! I give her the command to stop and drop the egg, no response. Then I use the warning beep on her collar, this does not faze or slow her down, she's walking off with the egg. So now I have to do it, a very low zap, she stops drops the egg and gives me the evil orange eye. We have a little chat over what she has been caught doing; she goes off to pout sitting outside the back door for the whole day.
Now realizing I have a huge problem of dog egg snatching. I hunt through the interned looking for a solution. That's when I come across a New Improved collar that responds to a transmitter. The transmitter is on the barn over the chicken door, the collar is on Pump, and hopefully this will work. She pouts then tries to go into the chicken coop, hears the beep and stops. Amazingly we have more eggs!

Fowl Update

The baby ducklings are one week old today and tomorrow, they are growing like crazy. The goslings are 5 weeks old and starting to feather out. Lucy (bantam chicken) is still siting on her eggs on our workbench in the barn, they should be hatching any minute! Clover's (turkey) eggs should hatch at the end of this week.
Over the weekend I built a Chick Chalet for Zelda, Lola and Coco to live in which will give me back my sun porch. The Chalet was build according to Lola's specifications; many funky windows, doors and a small porch. She still has to pick out the colors for the paint job.
I'm a little behind on pictures but with all the work the girls have been giving me I'm sure everyone will understand.