Category: Pleasant Hill Ponderings Blog

Where have the Bishops gone?….oh wait, here they are!

~ sanebishop ~ 1 Comment

Image Well contrary to popular belief, Stephen and I have not fallen off the face of the planet nor have we defected to a remote corner of the world where the internet does not exist. Over the last year and a half since our last post, our lives have been beyond eventful and any spare time for writing blog posts has been channeled towards other things….like watching Chopped or sleeping.

This past year has been one of both feast (mostly feast) and famine – but now that we are on the upswing and our life trajectory is starting to fall in to place we’re excited to share some of what has been going on.

The Good

  • We bought our farm!
  • We’ve expanded our bee hives, plus all of our hives made it through this winter.
  • I have my first closet in 7 years, and it is our house’s first “real” closet in its 120 year history.
  • Stephen has had several articles published in different magazines and has a great new job working with farmers in our county.

The Bad

  • Over the summer we nearly lost Quigley, one of our favorite hens.
  • We did loose two bee hives through the winter of 2012/13 which put a big dent in our honey production.
  • A couple of family medical hiccups.

The Ugly

  • We had a skunk incident that probably left us both scarred for life and smelling hideous for months.
  • The plumbing in our old house has a mind of its own – meaning you have to do some weird stuff just to get the toilet to flush on occasion.

So, hopefully, we’re back – we have lots of stories to tell, with plenty of laughs for all.

Happy National Hug a Chicken Day!

~ sanebishop ~ 2 Comments

November 5th is a very special day in the chicken keeping community – it is National Hug a Chicken Day. For most chicken keepers, every day is hug a chicken day – but this is our day to share the joys of chicken huggin’ with everyone else.

Though I love all of my chickens, Penfold and I have always had a special connection. She seems to be my hugging chicken of choice on most days. Sometimes she snuggles down into my jacket and falls asleep. Some days she sits on my lap an trills at me as if she’s having her own little conversation.

 She gets angry if I pet or hold one of her fellow flock mates, her face turning red as a beat until I decide to pet her instead. Penfold loves for me to rub the back of her head just behind her comb – she just closes her little eyes and drifts away.

Penfold has a unique personality, and is by far our smartest chicken. She prefer’s our company to that of the other chickens. She can be quite aggressive with the other hens and spends quite a bit of time own her own exploring.

Penfold knows what it takes to make you feel better when you feel tired, crummy, or frumpy. All it takes is a little snuggle and a trill, then your day becomes brighter, calmer, and better. She also a great chicken to hug on a good day too!

Hugging chickens is like hugging happiness itself. So if you want a little boost of fluffy happiness in your life – go grab a chicken and give it a little squeeze!

Charlie, Natalie, & Flannery

The Other 85%

~ sanebishop ~ 4 Comments

Recently, North Carolina’s head apiarist visited our local beekeepers’ meeting. He had a monkish, Mr. Rogers-like calmness about himself, which I suppose is one reason why he’s such a good beekeeper.  When examining hives he didn’t wear a protective suit, veil, or gloves. He didn’t seem the least bit afraid.

So far I’ve yet to develop this calm confidence around bees. Although I’ve graduated to glove-less beekeeping, I sometimes shelter my hands in pockets when bees finally take interest in me. Ironically, it’s never the bees that buzz loudly around my body that sting me. These bees are just hoping to irritate me enough that I’ll leave—they’re all bark but no bite. The ones that get me give no warning. They just make a “beeline” to me and thrust their stinger in.

Once stung I usually lose all self-respect and run away flailing and flapping, after which I put gloves back on. When one bee stung the head apiarist, he didn’t even flinch. He just calmly removed the bee and went about his business.

I guess it’s the unpredictability that gets me flustered. A sting doesn’t hurt that bad, but I can’t foresee when one of those suicidal bees will take aim at me. And once one stings me, I become even more worried that I’m about to be popped again. Since I’ve started keeping bees, I’ve been stung three times in five months, and I usually inspect the bees once a week. This means I’ve been stung three times in about twenty inspections. Unfortunately, it’s the 15% I remember, not the 85% in which I’ve escaped unscathed.

Of course, worrying about stings does no good. I’m sure bees can sense fear and anxiety somehow, and I know if I remain calm the bees are more likely to as well. Perhaps one day I’ll develop a Mr. Rogers-like persona around bees, but for now I’m more like Sir Robin in Monty Python: I bravely runaway.

Commander-in-Coop

~ sanebishop ~ 6 Comments

The pecking order is the governing system of hens. I suppose it has parallels in our society: the general sits atop a pecking order, then the colonel, the captain… the private at the bottom. The five star general in our flock is Flannery, a black Australorp. She is a gentle, quiet hen with a dainty trot. In size Flannery is average, and several larger hens are below her in the pecking order. She lets people pet her, but she doesn’t seek attention like Penfold and Quigley. All in all, Flannery is peaceful and unassuming.

Because Flannery sits atop the pecking order, others hen leave her alone—at least most of the time. On one occasion Charlie, our grumpiest hen, mistakenly pecked Flannery on the roost as everyone settled in for night. Flannery unleashed a fury of drop kicks and pecks that sent poor Charlie reeling and squawking.

But only a handful of times have I ever seen Flannery even lightly peck anyone. As far as I can tell, she doesn’t abuse her power. When we introduced the little chickens to the flock, she was the first to befriend them. And I don’t think Flannery leads the flock that I can tell. Usually Penfold, who is rather low on the pecking order, takes the flock one direction or the other, scouting new patches of grass and weeds with her rambunctious nature. Flannery seems fine to follow.

So although Flannery is head hen, she isn’t a tyrant. She walks softly but carries a big stick.

Back at the Chicken Shack

~ sanebishop ~ 11 Comments

The chicken pasture has been a lively place this summer. Since the Littles have moved in to the big coop each day has been full of squabbles, hilarity, and new traditions for the Pleasant Hill flock.

Penfold is still a little devil, I often call her my Captain of Badness. She is frequently found doing everything she shouldn’t – pulling feathers out of the Littles, getting out of the fence, and generally leading the other hen’s astray. I don’t care, I love her anyway – she could probably peck out one of my eyes and I’d still see no wrong in her.

Quigley, Zillah, and Danger – or the Littles as we call them – are still as tight as ever. Danger is the head of their little tribe and Quigley just wants to be everyone’s friend, while Zillah likes to spend time with Andy.

Two of our younger cousins like to come by to see the Littles on the weekends. Danger is Katie’s favorite, and I am absolutely perplexed at how a five year old can catch that chicken faster than I can!

All of the big girls are moulting and they look like a ratty band of box car children. Charlie is 500 times more grouchy than usual – which is really saying something since she is the ‘ take no prisoners ‘ type.

If you even look at her she growls in protest. A few nights back Andy was, apparently, sitting on the roosting spot that she wanted – so she just pecked him in the head and face until he finally gave up and moved away.

Poor Andy. He tries so hard to be a good protector for his little harem of biddy’s. Lately he’s started this new tradition of carving out some ‘personal time’ for himself each day.

So, what exactly does ‘personal time’ look like for a rooster? Well, in Andy’s case, he has his special corner of the hen house under the nesting boxes. He crawls in, makes a nest, faces the corner, and stays crammed in that tiny space for about 15 minutes…probably pretending that the rest of the world does not exist.

As the day draws to a close, everyone heads back the the hen house – ready to squabble and growl over who is going to sleep next to whom on the roost. Andy stands like a bastion on the hill, making sure that everyone gets inside – it’s time to shut the place down for the night.

As the sun sets, the hen house gets quiet. Occasionally you hear one of Penfold or Quigley’s long trills or Charlie growling over someone sleeping too close by….and Stephen and I trek back up to the house ready to call it a day ourselves.