Bird Brain

I just washed the poo off my fingers so I can write. (Bird poo, not mine.) I sit here, typing as quietly as I can as to not disturb the six sleeping babies inches from this keyboard. Despite my efforts, the quiet rat-tat-tapping of the keys draws 12 alert eyes, six at a time, from fuzzy, erect heads.

Um, scratch that. They all just fell asleep. Simultaneously.

That's just it: they're such - babies. 'Narcoleptic babies' may be redundant, because I think most babies sleep and wake at will, at times without direct obvious cause. I've declared it my favorite thing about these birds - that they run around with such an extreme sense of urgency and purpose - until they literally fall asleep. And I mean, fall over. Like they're dead.

It's like the rapture hit the brooder cage. One second, they're running about like mad, frantically searching for the thing they're - about - to - find - - - and the next instant their wings drop to floor and they melt sideways into the soft hay, or on top of the feed hopper, or beak-first into the water trough, or onto each other in one great soft mass. It's so terrifically funny, so inexplicable, but really - why not fall asleep whenever the urge strikes them? They're babies after all.

I really love them. All six of them, even the few I can't tell apart. One is smaller than the rest and has a subtle dark mark on her head tip. We call her 'Runt.' One is just huge, and seems to be developing about a day ahead of the rest, so we suspect she is exactly that - one day older. The other four are very similar, made all the more similar by the impression that the six of them share one tiny bird brain. We call it the 'hive mind,' because it's uncanny how they all want to do exactly the same thing at the same time. Sleep, drink, run around, peck something. It's like some announcement alerted them that water is on Sale Sale Sale! in aisle seven. And the sound that emanates from the cage is one big cloud of 'peep.' Somehow their chirps float around and defy acoustic law, and the effect is calming and dazzling.

Speaking of the pecking - it's constant and they're indiscriminate. They obey the following criteria:

1. Is there a value contrast (light to dark)?

2. Is it nearby?

That's all they care about. If it's a speck, or anything like a speck, or not even a speck but something that looks different than the stuff around it, it's peckable. That includes fingers, sleeves, pieces of hay, dried pieces of poo stuck on a fellow bird, parts of the brooder wire, their own feet - and on and on.

As for their temperament, I now understand two idioms in a way I never have before: 'bird brain,' and acting 'chicken.' I'll take the latter one first:

Being chicken. Chicken shit. Chicken-livered. You know; scared. It's funny, though; they're not timid. The opposite is true - they're intensely curious creatures. But they have hair-trigger orienting responses to absolutely everything. Rustling paper, a slight breeze, the squeak of a chair, a voice, even the clicking of keys on a keyboard. Everything is cause for instant alarm, but unless it's an immediate threat, they calm down as quickly as they get fired up. These birds can go from full panic to asleep in 5 seconds. I've seen it repeatedly.

That brings me to 'bird-brained.' Any creature that can freak out and fall asleep in the space of a few breaths must not think over-much about any one thing. They're not burdened with the concept of cause and effect or even sequential events. It's always now for them - like really now - all the time. Which is why it's so captivating to watch them for hours on end, which is exactly what Erik and I have been doing for the past week.

The brooder sits atop what used to be the dining room table, and has now turned into the bird and veggie nursery. Two chairs are drawn to the edge of the table, inches from the brooder, so that we can easily do all sorts of things while watching the girls. Tooth brushing, shoelace tying, coffee drinking - all happen in immediate proximity to the brooder cage. But mostly we just sit there together, Erik and I, like awestruck sports radio announcers, calling the play-by-play as we see it.

"Look- Runt's charging that other one! Did you see how high she just jumped?"

"Oh, that's definitely a poop squat. Good thing we change the litter to hay; it's a much better color now."

"Now that's one's falling asleep - can you believe it? She just fell over!"

The television in the other room talks to no one. Dirty dishes wait in the kitchen sink. Our cat wonders what happened to his once loving family.

Meanwhile, we just sit and watch, in wonder at it all.

Winning Caption

So I put out a call for captions for the girls' photoshoot. I got many variations on a theme (you'll see), but one submission rose above the rest.

The winning submission:

Thanks, Dad!

Outmaneuvering the Mold

Nightmare: I returned from a brief business trip to find my tender little seed starts being consumed by ghastly white mold!

Every single peat pot was afflicted. I panicked. And I did what every gardener/blogger does when she panics:

I googled.

So it turns out that gross white mold is what happens when

A. the starter soil is not sterile (sterile dirt? are you kidding me?);

and/or

B. when the humidity is too high;

and/or

C. the soil has become too compacted and does not 'breathe.'

I was guilty of A, B, and C, I admit. I honestly didn't know that one ought to, or even could, sterilize dirt, of all things. Lesson learned.

But instead of tossing the whole moldy mess into the compost, I decided to try some good old yin and yang. Too humid? Let's dry things out. Too moist? How 'bout a little sunshine? A little fungal? How about some chemical warfare? (organic, of course)

So I brought out one of my photography studio lights - the hottest, brightest sucker I own, and set up a tripod on the table above the seed starts.

Then, I placed a fan on low next to the trays as well, and let both the light and fan do their thing for about 24 hours. I also read somewhere that spraying the surface of the dirt with a very diluted solution of Hydrogen Peroxide would kill the mold, so I tried that, too.

All of this seemed to help, but the Eureka moment came when I was driving home from work one day stressing out about the mold situation. It hit me that the most powerful antimicrobial/anti-fungal agent I could think of was plain old raw garlic. So I blended the heck out of a clove of raw garlic and suspended it in water, and sprayed the heck out of the dirt with that.

Oh, and I also started watering from the bottom only.

Anyway, check this out:

Problem solved!

Hot Chicks for your viewing pleasure

Perhaps the cutest thing we've ever seen.

Erik and I held a photo shoot for the girls in our bathroom. They were perfect models, though clearly quite confused by the sudden change of address. We just finished photographing them and have not yet had time to cook up witty captions. This is where you come in. Please post your best, and I'll stick them here (with attribution, of course!).

Mail-Order Chicks!

You all know what that means, boys and girls. The girls have arrived!!!!!

Now, for a peep show:

I've been talking about getting these girls for a long, long time now, and our chicken dreams are finally becoming a reality. Yesterday, Erik and I picked up our 6 adorable Buff Orpington chicks from the Waltham Agway. We're having a difficult time doing anything but stare at them, but I've peeled myself from their brooder long enough to type these few words and post this video.

A little info about the breed. Buff Orpingtons are known to be the Labrador Retrievers of chickens. They're big, golden brown, affable and tame. They're considered to be a dual-purpose breed; that is, they are useful as laying chickens and as, ahem, dinner. We'll see what the future holds, but Erik and I have a feeling that this may lead us even further down the 'vegetarian' pathway.

For now, we're transfixed.

Plans becoming plants (and chickens)

Yay!

Today was a 'makin' things happen' day. Erik and I went to our local Agway (more on that in a minute) to get supplies for our chicks, who are coming on Thursday, March 4 or so, and also some extra plant-starting stuff. I'll tell you, one of the challenging things about doing this urban agriculture stuff is that it's so in vogue and in style these days that most of the places that cater to urban gardeners are over-priced, shi-shi boutiqu-ie type places. No joke - I can buy a decent latte at my local garden outlet, but the prices I pay make me feel like a fool. So now that I'm in the market for chicken feed (and organic chicken feed, at that), I have to do some serious pecking here in metro Boston to find a decent and reasonably priced supplier.

Found one!

Agway in Waltham. Annoyingly, though, they have zero online presence. You can't search their stock online or even view a website. All you can find is this google link with an address and phone number. But take it from me - it's a great value, the staff is super friendly and helpful, and you can find anything you need for pretty heavy-duty gardening and basic livestock needs.

So when we get the chickies, they'll need oodles of TLC. They can't regulate their own body temperature for a while, so they have to be raised in a brooder - a small, protected area that can be heated to body temperature (about 100 degrees), protected from drafts and from (most importantly in our household) our cat. A proper reinforced brooder can cost in the hundreds, so Erik took matters into his own hands:

He's constructed a basic brooder that will house our 5 buff orpington pullets (young female chickens) from age 1-day through 5 or so weeks.

Here are his architectural sketches:

He designed it to be tall enough and wide enough to hold five 5-week old pullets (which is about how old they'll be before graduating to their next home). The height is about 20", which is the height the heat lamp needs to be to produce a 100-degree reading at floor level.

This simple brooder is constructed from chicken wire and plain wooden stakes.

Then they'll move up and out into the larger world, and into their henhouse, which I've decided needs to be called the Nunnery.

Meanwhile, I sorted seeds and started the varieties that will need to get an indoor head start.

Started in pots are: tons of basil, marigolds, fennel, kale, tomatoes, ground cherries, all sorts of flowers, chives, cilantro, eggplant, and I forget what else.

Oh, I planted directly into pots that will decompose when planted in the ground. For the last two years, I've struggled with transplant shock - the crashing that happens to my fragile seedling starts when I rip them from their nursery container and plant them naked in the ground. This year, I decided to try this method, which seems to me to be kinder and gentler on developing root systems. Of course, it's alway important to harden off the seedlings (expose them gradually to the elements) before setting them out permanently.

Tomorrow or the next day, I'll direct seed the beets, carrots and spinach in the cold frames.

To hell, then heaven and back; now holding a Map. (for the garden)

This has been an interesting, no - *interesting* season for me. I do desire a life experience that touches the full range of human emotions, and well, the Universe listens to earnest requests.

Right after my last post, a horrible earthquake leveled much of Haiti. I traveled there immediately to cover it for the Globe (I was embedded with a disaster response medical team). It was a deep long look straight into Hell. Here are some of my videos I did there. The first one is a recap of my experience there.

And then I came home to my blessed world. Back to my husband, our cat (who eats special canned food!), healthy friends, a house! The stark contrast had me in shock. But I soaked it all back in like a wrung-out sponge and happiness rescued me from the darkness I'd seen. The next video I created was a lark - a personal, silly video valentine for Erik that I'm happy to embarrass myself with here:

Really, you don't have to watch it!

And then something very personal and profound happened in my life that is a bit too raw to share, but it forced me back into the arms of something grounding by its very nature: garden planning. Which is why I write today. I am happily announcing the Citylovescountry Gardens of 2010:

Click on a map to enlarge it if you can't read the type and you're curious.

But anyway, the plan is:

1. Start inside immediately: kale, tomatoes, pak choi (a Chinese cabbage)
2. Plant outdoors in early March: arugula, spinach, chard, carrots
3. Plant outdoors in mid/late March: lettuce, beets, Pak Choi (from transplant), kale (from transplant), cilantro, mint, potatoes, asparagus (from starts)
4. Start indoors in mid/late March: peppers (all), eggplant, ground cherries, basil
5. Plant in containers in April: rosemary, oregano
6. Plant outdoors mid May: tomatoes (from transplant), corn, sunflowers, cucumbers, squash (both), zucchini, strawberries, dill, lima beans, purple pole beans
7. Plant in late May: peppers and eggplant (both from transplants)

OK, sure, we all expect to see plants and veggies, etc. But I've been teasing you (and myself) about something else for a long time now. Something a bit louder, eggier, with feathers.

Enter, the Buff Orpingtons!!! (that's not mine; I stole the picture fair and square from here).

And here is where they're going to live:

Mark King of King's Berry Farm in East Brookfield, MA (508-867-9222) is going to build it for us for a very reasonable price. He's even going to customize it to fit between our garage and our fence. He's fantastic!

So we're super psyched and going to get started right away with preparations this weekend.

The chicks are coming! The chicks are coming!!

Details to follow soon . . .