Chickens in the Cold

Our flock of chickens has been living here for so many generations that they've adapted pretty well to the cold.  When we first got chickens, and we only had a few of them, we used to box them up into the nesting boxes on cold nights, with only enough space for each chicken to sit.  They were able to keep this small space warm with their body heat and would be quite cozy in the morning when we let them out.


Now, we have too many chickens for this to be practical, but they seem to be fine as long as they have protection from the elements and (of course) lots of food. 

The two body parts that are most vulnerable to frost bite on a chicken are the comb and the feet.  We protect their feet by giving them a thick layer of dry hay to scratch and lie in.  As for the combs, well, roosters have one of two types of comb.  Some have tall combs that are really easily frozen and some have short, wide combs that are less susceptible.  We only keep the roosters with the short combs for breeding.

A rooster with a short comb (but some frost damage on his feet)

Goats in the Cold

Imagine lying cozily in a soft bed with food piled all around you, listening to the storm raging outside.  Your friends are around you so you won't be lonely, and when you are hungry, you can just reach out for a snack.  That's how I like my goats to go through a cold snap.

When I first started to keep goats, I did  what I thought was a favour for them by buying the best alfalfa hay I could find.  It was a nasty shock to find the poor animals shivering violently as soon as it started to get cold.  I turned to my goat "bible", Goat Husbandry, and I will always be grateful to David MacKenzie for his clear explanation of this problem.

Goats eat fast, swallowing their food barely chewed into their rumen, or first stomach.  In the rumen, bacteria start to break it down and they create a lot of heat in this process.  The rumen becomes a kind of portable central heating system for the goat.  If the food in the rumen is easily digested, the fuel for the heating system is quickly used up and the furnace goes out.  If the food in the rumen is coarse, the heat lasts much longer.

Now, when the weather turns very cold, I break out a couple of bales of coarser hay for the herd.  (It's still tasty hay, just not as fine as what they normally get.)  I pile it up everywhere in the barn so that they can use it as a bed as well as dinner, and they get through the cold snap with barely a shiver.

(all photos by Laura Kelsey)

Surviving the Cold

When we hear that an arctic front is moving south, we prepare for extreme cold.  We bank as much snow as possible against the house and barn walls to keep the cold out.  We also made sure the downstairs wood stove was ready to go, with a good supply of wood nearby.  Lighting the stove in the basement keeps the floor warm, which makes an incredible difference to the comfort level on the main floor, and it also keeps stuff from freezing in the cold room.

The horses were both born and bred in the Cariboo and don't seem to mind the cold.  We have horse blankets and space in the barn, but most winters, we don't use either of these things.  We just make sure the horses have warmed water to drink and give them extra hay.  When the temperature dropped to near -40 recently, I let them out into the area where we store the round bales of hay and they were able to free-feed all night long.  Now that it has warmed up and they're back in their paddock, Monty is protesting.

(photo by Laura Kelsey)

Moonlight Interlude

The night's silence was broken by the sharp, explosive WWHHOOOF! of air through horse nostrils, waking me.  For a few seconds, I lay still, listening.  When I heard the horses' alarm signal again, then once more,  I jumped out of bed, threw the window open, and scanned the barnyard for trouble while yelling, "What's going on over there?!"

I could see the horses staring intently toward the bottom of the field.  Everything else seemed normal, but Monty blew again.  I went downstairs and let the dogs out to start investigating while I slipped into a snowsuit and boots.  Floyd's big, booming bark rang out, but it was the sound of his "Guard Dog is Now on Duty" announcement, not the more excited bark he gives when he spots an intruder.  Charlie, who only barks when he's alarmed or playing, wasn't saying anything.

It seemed that there was no problem out there, but I was dressed, so I went out anyway to look around.  The full moon lit the field brightly.  Monty was putting on a show, prancing out into the field with his tail up, like a war charger going to meet the enemy, but the dogs beside him were just sniffing around calmly.  Bree had stopped paying attention altogether.

Probably, a predator had passed by and the horses hadn't liked it.  We've had lots of wolves in the area lately and seen their tracks after they've hunted their way down the creek.  There have also been lynx tracks everywhere in the past few days.  However, there are also more rabbit and vole tracks than I've ever seen, so the predators should be well fed.

Echoing Floyd, I made my own announcement, calling out, "Whoever you are, just keep on moving!  There's a human on guard duty here, too!"  Then I stood for a few minutes enjoying the moonlight and the sharpness of the -15 degree air on my face, before calling the dogs in and going back to bed for the final hour of the night.

Axes

We usually buy our axe-heads at garage sales or junk stores and buy or make new handles for them.  Well, I say "we" but it's really always Charles who does this.  I never really paid attention.  While he was away recently, the handle broke on the axe I use for splitting wood.  I had had several things go wrong as soon as Charles left--all things that I didn't know how to do and that would have taken him two minutes to fix but were major problems for me.  When the handle shattered, it was the last straw.  In frustration, I went and bought a new axe.

I've learned lots about axes since I moved here.  The first thing I learned was that the taper on the head is critical.  A fine, sharp taper doesn't chop the wood better; it just causes the axe to sink deeply into the wood and stick there.  A nice, wide, V-shaped taper forces the two halves of a block of wood away from each other as soon as the axe bites into it.

The next thing I learned is that a heavy axe makes the job easier.  To make a light axe hit the wood hard enough to split it, you have to put a lot more force into your swing.  A heavy axe does half the work for you.

I thought I could choose a good spitting maul for myself.  It turned out, however, that the one I bought was too blunt.  When I got home and started chopping, the axe kept bouncing off the wood, which hurt my hands and arms and made the job 'way harder and longer.  I wore myself out for two days before a helpful friend got out his grinder and sharpened it for me. 

In praise of hot flashes

I've spent most of my life being cold.  Now, I've reached the age when I have hot flashes, and I just love them, especially in winter.  I'll often wait inside until a hot flash hits, then run outside to do some chores.  The feel of the icy air on my skin is exquisite--something I never thought I'd say.

Today, I saw Monty waiting near the well, which is his way of asking for a drink, so I went out to give him some water.  This is a job that Floyd always does with me.  He likes me to throw the last bit of water in the bucket for him so he can chase and bite it.

I carried a drink to Monty...

but it seems he really only wanted a kiss!

Wild Mountain Woman

Charles is doing a new music video for Laura Kelsey.  The song is called "Wild Mountain Woman", and Laura wrote it after moving here from the city and being inspired by the women of the Cariboo.

You have to be pretty tough to live out here. Even the most pampered women still need to deal with long nights, frigid temperatures, icy roads, and power outages.  There are women in my neighbourhood who run traplines, hunt with bows, operate excavators or fix their own tractors, and tend livestock at -40, on top of having the more traditional "womanly" skills of gardening, preserving food, or knitting.

About 30 of our local wild mountain women met for the filming. All of them are tough, resourceful, and enthusiastic.  We met at a local lake, where we had a great time shooting the video and then had a bit of a party, eating chili by a bonfire.  The whole afternoon, we were joined by a family of otters who popped up through a hole in the lake ice to eat fish and watch us.

View the video here: http://youtu.be/j3BnOz4gH4U

The joys of shovelling

My routine changed suddenly with the first serious snowfall (6") yesterday.  With a sigh of relief, I abandoned all pretense of finishing yard and garden projects and retreated into my warm, cozy house.  Of course, I do have to go out occasionally to feed the animals, and to shovel snow.

Some day, maybe, I'll set up my life so that I don't need to go anywhere all winter and I won't need to keep the driveway clear.  I could also make enough money to hire someone to do it for me.  Or maybe not: if I didn't have all that shovelling out in the crisp, fresh air and sunshine, I might get out of shape and depressed from the lack of light.

I started my day by clearing around all the gates and making paths to the barn and the hay bales.  After a leisurely breakfast, I did the driveway and paths to the well, woodshed, and outhouse.  (Charles did help.)  By that time, the sun was blazing and I was in shirtsleeves.  I had to take lots of breaks to play with the dogs and eat snacks. What a nice day; I love snow.

Weather Records

,Signs of spring:  I heard the spring call of a saw-whet owl today.  The goats are showing their joy of life by dancing.

For 20 years, I've been keeping weather records in a garden/nature journal.  Since 1994, I've also recorded the early-morning temperature on a graph.  It's not at all scientific, just the temperature on my porch whenever I get up, but it's interesting.  Here are three different years: 1998/9, which was one of our warmer Cariboo winters (I also recorded the daily highs that year); 2008/9, which was fairly cold; and this year.

In my journal, I make note of significant dates, like when I first hear frogs peeping, or when the ice comes off a local lake.  It's amazing how similar the dates are from year to year.  The difference between an early spring and a late one is about a week.  In 1999, the first robins arrived at my place on Mar 12, the first geese of Mar 14, and the cranes on Apr 26.  Snow was off the garden on Apr 2.  In 2009, the robins arrived on Mar 20, the geese on Mar 19, the cranes Apr 22.  The snow was off the garden on Apr 13.

Extreme Weather Mittens

 These mittens are quite time-consuming to make, but they are worth it if you live in a cold climate.



First, you knit your favorite mitts, but make them several sizes too big (including the thumb).  I like a pattern that has a fold-over flap so that I can use my fingers when I need to.  A two-colour pattern makes a denser knit, which adds to the warmth.

After they're complete, turn them inside out.  Starting just above the wrist, sew big loops of soft buffalo wool all over the inside of the mitt.  If you catch the inside of the knitting rather than sewing right through the fabric, it makes a nicer finish.  When the whole surface has been closely covered with the fluffy loops, turn the mitts right-side out and enjoy.





Mercury plunges

Wool warmly enfolding hands
Extreme weather mitts

When I was a child, I wore a completely different kind of extreme weather mitt that Lazy Marion could approve.  My mother would stack several layers of fabric together, using cloth of differing weights.  Then, she would have me put my hands on the stack and she'd trace around them.  She'd cut out two hand-shapes for each mitt, put the "hands" palms together, and sew them with the seams to the outside.  They aren't very pretty, but they are so warm that my mom ended up making them for all the neighbourhood kids.

Snowshoes, the Lazy Winter Sport

I love exploring on snowshoes.  You just put them on and go anywhere.  No need for expensive equipment or special trails or training.  Just go.  It's not so different from walking, not at all difficult.

Today, we walked along the creek (after chopping holes in the ice to test its thickness).  The creek is like a highway for the wild creatures.  We've seen tracks of fox, coyote, wolf, deer, moose, squirrel, rabbit, vole.  Everyone uses it as a road.  When I first saw all the tracks in the snow, I realized how isolated we humans are.  The forest is just teeming with life that we rarely see.

When you strap on your snowshoes and head off into the bush, you realize how much activity is going on around you.  It's one of winter's gifts, so enjoy it.  Be lazy.  Go out and play in the snow.

Charles enjoys the view



Floyd, Marion, Charlie, and Tobias



The First Winter

Charles and Marion on Robin

Our first winter in our new home is a bit of a blur in my memory.  I only remember a few things about it.

It was different from all other winters I have spent here in one respect:  I was bored.  Charles had bought a logging horse, a beautiful black Percheron named Robin, in the fall.  He kept her at a fellow horse-logger's place and he spent quite a bit of time logging.  I was alone, in the little house, surrounded by snow, with the two cats for company.  In the evenings, the lack of light paralyzed me.  I couldn't seem to do any work in the house with the limited light provided by the kerosene lanterns we used, so all I could do in the evening was to read for hours on end.  For the first time in my life, I started to feel depressed.

I remember the day I came out of it.  Charles finally figured out how bad things were.  He took drastic action:  he dragged me out of the house and together we built a snow castle.

The grader had by then pushed up huge banks of snow along the sides of the road.  At the corners of our driveway, these banks were especially high.  We chose one of these to make our fort, carving blocks igloo-style and building a tower ten feet tall, with a wall, and a tunnel leading to a chamber looking out onto the road.  It took all day.  It was fun!  We ended up with a wonderful snow castle.

At that time, the school bus came along our road to a point about a mile from our house.  Everyone living past us had to take their kids to that "terminal" in the morning and pick them up in the afternoon.  There were four or five families that would drive by twice a day.  For a week or more after we built our snow fort, cars would stop outside our place and we'd hear requests to explore the fort.  As the cars drove off, we'd hear the kids' voices pleading, "Can we build one when we get home?"  The kids loved us, the parents maybe not so much.

Building that castle broke the spell of negativity I'd been under.  I started to see winter as an opportunity for fun.