I went to the produce store this morning and after buying some veggies for our meals this week, I went around back to the dumpster to see if there was anything good in there for my birds. About a month or so ago, I had asked one of the store people if I could take some of their leftover produce to feed to my chickens. He said sure but the dumpster would be open to the public only on Saturday when the local enforcement code people were not likely to be snooping around. To my dismay, there was nothing in the dumpster and a guy was moving crates of fresh produce with a forklift so I could barely reach the dumpster even if there had been anything in it.As I pedaled home, I figured my dear chickens would have to make do with scraps that I could scrounge up from my own veggie patch.Later in the day, I decided to give the dumpster another try. It was 103 degrees outside, but my chickens were worth the sacrifice. So I loaded my panniers down with plastic bags and returned to the produce store. The photo says it all.
As you can see, my fridge is pretty full now. Those bags are stuffed with romaine lettuce leaves, cherries, two whole heads of iceberg lettuce, 2 whole heads of cauliflower, several stalks of celery, tomatoes, spinach, beets, eggplant . . . If you come to my house, be careful what you grab from my fridge. If it looks like a tossed salad, you may want to pass on this as it is likely chicken food!
Back to the subject of chickens.
Since my last entry, we had to find a home for another chicken; the Rhode Island Red was also a rooster. We gave him to an acquaintance who lives on four acres in Martinez. Needless to say I cried over losing him too, although I hear that he is adjusting to his new yard and family.Our ten remaining chickens are definitely females. We are collecting three eggs a day - one from a Maran (a small, dark chocolate egg), one from a Production Red (a little larger, tan colored egg), and just yesterday our White Leghorn popped out her first white egg! In another month we should be collecting six to seven eggs a day. Since these first eggs are so small, Dave needs three of them for a decent scrambled egg.
Without Elvis in charge, the chickens no longer move about as a cohesive group. I guess it takes a rooster to keep them in line. I often wonder if they think I am the rooster. They do not seem to head to the hen house in the evening until I go outside to remind them that it is time to go to bed. Bedtime is now 8:30 PM. Without Elvis, the birds find their spot in the chicken coop and quietly go to sleep. Several birds crowd into the three nesting boxes.
Dave took several photos the other evening. As you can see, our birds are getting bigger and look like chickens. This is a Maran.
This is an Ameraucana. She will lay a greenish blue egg.
Here is Polly enjoying corn on the cob before calling it a day. Every Saturday morning I pedal to the produce store and fill several bags with 'old' produce to feed my birds. They really like pecking at the fresh kernels of corn.
And here is me securing the coop for the night.
Dave -
The bike restoration project sped along full speed until it abruptly hit a wall. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the wheels did not match. I'm not talking about some subtle differences, I'm talking about blatant differences - one has an alloy or satin finish and the other wheel has a heavy chrome finish. Of course no self-respecting bike mechanic would allow this, so I have been scouring the Internet for inexpensive used bike wheels. I think that I may have found someone that has what I am looking for. Of course I thought this to be the case last week and upon inspection the wheels were no better than what I have.
I had the rear derailleur to clean and lubricate so I took on this job last week. As the picture shows, my work bench is the top of the trash container. While some would feel that this is no way to tackle a project, I have to say that it works well for a procrastinator like myself. The trash container goes to the curb on Thursday night so this forces me to finish what I am working on before then. It is my motivator since I would be at a lost if I had to disturb the reassembly order.
Speaking of reassembly, I have fooled around with bike parts over the years but I have never encountered the complexity that seems to define British engineering. Those of you that own British cars can certainly attest to the nightmare-infused package of parts that the British refer to as 'engineering'. Case in point, most derailleurs have about 15 parts; this derailleur has 27 parts - not counting the 15 ball bearings in each of the pulleys. I reassembled the derailleur and ended up with two extra parts. I re-reassembled it two more times until I finally ran out of parts - I figured that at this point I was done.
To date the bike has been stripped, primed and painted. No, it isn't perfect. I justify the $87 spent on sandpaper, cleaning fluid, primer, paint, and buffer pads as an "investment" in a project that Mike and I are enjoying. The alternative would have been to take it to a paint shop and just write a check for $155; what fun is that? (Of course, I am told that the professionally painted frame would have been really, really nice.)
Once I have some wheels, it should be just another four or five hours and the bike will be ready to be enjoyed on streets, bike paths, bike lanes, and an occasional sidewalk.
My father-in-law attended a family reunion this past weekend and when he saw this photo he decided to share it with me. Apparently Dave's great aunt and uncle (the Lloyd Kuckers) were also in the 'chicken business'. Picture circa 1940.
