DIY Chicken Brooder

We inherited 8 hens in the fall of 2014.  Doesn't seem possible it's been that long, but... I believe it has.  I was so excited when we began our journey with backyard chickens and having our own eggs.  The hens have done pretty well -- laying fairly regularly -- and appearing to be in good health overall.  We did have a couple times of horrible molt -- right as we got them and again this past late summer; lasting well into the late fall.

We've lost 3 of those hens in that time.  The hens escaped the run once when our neighbor was 'chicken sitting' while we were out of town.  He wrangled them up and thought he had secured all of them  back in the run.  When we returned we noticed we only had 7 chickens.  We later found the remains of that 8th chicken near our wooded creek bed.  Yeah, I'm certain she was eaten by a fox or coyote or some other critter.  Then, this past fall, while Techno was away for work in Ohio, raccoons infiltrated our chicken run.  We had gotten 'lazy' in our chicken keeping practices.  Up to that point we had no problems with predators.  The coons dug under our run and killed 2 more of our hens over the course of a couple days as we were trying to shore up the holes they made.

Yes, we learned our lesson and now close up the coop EVERY night AND we made further adaptations to our chicken run to prevent critters from getting in.  So far, it's working, but we're still not taking chances.

So, here we are, current day.  We are down 3 hens. We're only getting 2-3 eggs a day and the kids and I have wanted to get our own chicks for some time. Since we moved here, actually.  :-)

Techno finally agreed. We can replace the hens we lost plus a few extra for good measure.  (Not sure those were his exact words, but....)

To raise these baby chicks, we needed a brooder. Store bought ones can be pricey and the only ones I found nearby were simple cardboard 'rings' of sorts.

I began my search for DIY brooders.

Pinterest is my friend.  (Techno's?  Not so much.)

I found several ideas; read several opinions; went back and forth from a big 'kiddie pool' set up to a rubbermaid bin set up.

I settled on the Rubber Maid bin idea simply because it's more storable for future use and would take up a bit less room than a big 'ol kiddie pool on the back porch while the chicks grow.

Once I had my 'plan' I quickly decided this would make a GREAT 4H project and asked the kids who wanted to help and have it be their poultry project.  Since Trinity didn't yet have a plan for poultry, she won the prize.

First, we started our search for bins.  We wanted clear, but it had to be decent sized.  Finally, at Walmart, we found something we decided we could live with.  We really wanted something bigger so the chicks could 'grow' in it, but ended up just buying two in case we needed to expand over time.

Next, hardware wire.  Easy to pick up at Ace Hardware.

Then the heating lamp.   (We already have the red bulbs from our chickens and rabbits.)

Finally a thermometer.

The rest of the components for constructing our chicken brooder we had at home.  Stapler, wire cutter, a hook and wire to make a latch for our 'door'.  We also picked up a feeder and waterer to add when the brooder is complete.  Paper towels are almost always on hand.

The bin, lid, lamp, wire, thermometer, knife, zip ties (because you just never know), and hooks.  The supplies we bought for our DIY chicken brooder box.

Before we could begin, we needed to clean the bin.  Trinity got right to work on that.

She was so excited about making the brooder, she didn't even mind cleaning.

At last.... We can start construction!!

First we cut a squarish 'hole' out of half of the lid to the container.  This was a bit harder than expected, but not doable.  Simply required a whole lot of elbow grease and time.

The hole and the piece we cut.

Trinity helped with the cutting

Then we cut the hardware wire slightly bigger than said hole.  The easiest step so far.  Just had to watch those sharp edges.

Trinity cutting the hardware wire.

A pretty good fit.

Finally, we stapled taped the wire over the hole in the lid.  (Although I had a stapler, I had NO staples.)  We improvised.  Fortunately I'm the queen of duct tape.  I even had some green on hand to match the lid.  Sorta.  (Not a perfect match, but better than pink polka dots or something.  Maybe that would have been cute???)

Adding the duct tape to secure the wire.

As you can see -- not a 'pretty' opening.  Duct tape added
to keep the chicks from being scraped on the ragged edges.

Next, we cut (or maybe I should say, gauged and tore) 3 sides of a rectangle out of the front of the bin. (A near impossible task that resulted in a less than aesthetic look to our brooder).  Once we had FINALLY managed to cut through the three sides, I began to try to 'bend' the bottom to make a 'hinge' of sorts.  Yeah, it snapped like a twig.  Improvisation to the rescue once again.  Remember that green piece from the lid?  Well, THAT became our new 'door'.  With a little duct tape strategically placed and cut along the bottom, we were able to make a hinged door that opens down.  This will be our avenue for picking up the chicks.  A little research showed that chicks raised where they were picked up from above remained more 'skid-dish' as a hand descending down upon them mimicked that of a large bird of prey swooping down to snatch them up.  We want our chicks to like being handled.  So, a bit more research revealed making a brooder with a door in the front where you reach in from the chicks 'eye level' helps them become more trusting and not fearful.  We decided we had nothing to lose, so we'd give it a shot.  To complete the door, we added a small 'hook' above on the lid.  We covered the inside with a little extra duct tape to keep the chicks from potentially getting poked by the protruding 'screw' from the hook as they get bigger.  Then we duct taped wire to the top two corners of the door; forming an inverted 'V' - almost as if hanging a picture frame.  This wire 'V' then reached up and 'hooked onto' the latch on top of the bin.  Voila - a door that falls down to open, yet is latched closed in it's upright position.

Not perfect, but......
Our door!

Looks better closed than open, but... either way, it works.

We lined the bottom of the bin with shelf paper to keep it from being too slippery.  (Don't want the chicks to get 'spradle foot'.)  Then we added paper towels on top until they get a little bit older and we can replace with pine shavings or other appropriate bedding.

The food tray was put inside along with the waterer - both elevated slightly to keep them fresher and cleaner longer.  We'll add some small decorative glass rocks in the bottom of the waterer to keep those little chicks from drowning.  The thermometer was fastened to the side wall near where the heat lamp will be mounted to monitor the temperature inside the brooder.

It looks so small once everything is put inside.  Guess it's a good thing we bought 2 bins.
Me thinks we'll be making another one of these in the near future.

We'll add a pole on the side of the bin to enable us to raise the lamp as the chicks grow and the temperature inside the brooder needs to be lowered.

We're considering also adding some branch 'roosting' bars along the width of the bin on one side just so those little babies can practice that all important task of roosting.  To do so, we'll cut a couple branches to size then screw them in from the outside or the bin directly into the ends of the branches - securing them nicely.  We'll stagger the heights so the chicks can hop and choose where to roost.

The girls think it would be fun to add a feather duster under the wire opening to mimic that of a mama hen.  If I can find one, I'm game.  We'll simply fasten it to the wire top and hang it down just above the floor of the bin.  Wouldn't it be adorable to see the chicks huddled under a feather duster, keeping warm as they sleep?

The final product, in all it's green glory.

Now all we have to do is wait for our chicks.  Hopefully later this week we'll add them to our little brooder.

Dress-up and Tea Parties

In the last few days the girls have been quite enamored with their dress-up outfits and having tea parties.

Sometimes I heat up water on the stove and they have a 'real mug' of tea.

Other times... they choose to get their little tea sets out; they get hot water from the sink; put a tea bag in their little tea pot; cream in their little creamer container; and splenda and sugar in little sugar bowls.  They sit around the dining room table and serve each other tea.

Precious.

The conversations I hear as they have this little 'tea time' makes me smile.  British accents abound.

Darling

As I glance into their little world I see sweet pinkies outstretched as they lift their tiny tea cups to their lips.

Charming.

Smiles exude as they sip and chat and make up their pretend lives.  Sharing stories and antics as they enjoy their afternoon treat.

Adorable.

Sparkly dresses, shiny shoes, floppy hats, flowing capes, and feathered boas adorn their slight frames.

Delightful.

Even at 7, 8, and 10 they still enjoy this wonderful time of make-believe.  I love that.  They are growing up so fast.  Seeing this innocent act of childhood still present in their lives, makes my momma heart flutter.

I pray they hold on to these precious moments of sharing time with their siblings.

As they grow, it may turn into 'coffee chats' at the local coffee shop, but I hope they still dress up, share stories, laugh, giggle, and even protrude their little fingers as they talk with British accents and share life together.

What memories they are making.

What traditions they are forming.

May they keep them close to their hearts as the years pass.  May they continue to want to spend such time together.  May they always want to chat and giggle with their sisters.

One day, may their own children dress up and have tea parties with their cousins, bringing tears of joy to both their mammas and their grand-mamma.

Calls from Adult Children

As I sat in my chair after lunch, the phone rang.  I expected it to be a telemarketer or maybe a friend who occasionally calls mid-afternoons.

Much to my surprise, the caller ID read "Jacob".

Whenever he calls unexpectedly, I get a little excited and a little anxious at the same time.  I always wonder if he has some exciting news to share or if something tragic has happened.  Funny how our minds work. Once a mom, always a mom - I guess.

The call today was a little different.  He was calling for advice.  Not that he's never done that before, but every time it happens it makes my heart swell.

He had talked to Techno and I over the weekend about possibly changing one of his majors.  He's currently a Chemistry and Chemical Engineering dual major.  But.... as the semesters have rolled along, he's grown less intrigued with the engineering side of things and more enamored with mathematics and statistics.  His love of Chemistry has remained constant.  He's recognized he enjoys the research, the discovery (Chemistry) aspect of it and not as much the tool usage (engineering) aspect of his chosen fields.  He's also ascertained he's got quite a knack and love of numbers (not that we didn't already know that, but thought engineering would apply that love with chemistry to make a perfect marriage).

Not so much.

So, today, he called because he had met with a professor in statistics and mathematics as well as chemistry and a general engineering professor.  Through all the counseling, he had come to the conclusion that maybe chemical engineering wasn't quite 'up his alley'.

However, he knew I was very proud of him for going into Chemical Engineering and he didn't want to disappoint me.

Hence, the call.

As soon as he started talking, I knew he just needed my reassurance that I was still proud of him. That I still supported him 110 percent.  Which... I did.  I do.  I always will.

I affirmed what I'm sure he already knew.  He had thought long and hard about this.  He had researched and sought council.  He had given engineering a shot and it just wasn't measuring up to what he wanted to do in life.  He knew his heart, his desires.  He had calculated how chemistry and engineering differed and what it was about chemistry - the love of discovery - that he so enjoyed.  He. Had. Done. His. Homework.

I gave him my blessing.

I could sense the relief as I told him I thought he was doing the right thing.

Now, he'll begin the process of dropping one of his engineering classes; formally changing his second major from chemical engineering to statistics and adding a third in the math sciences; as well as formulating a new plan for the rest of his college career.

This change may result in a 5th year at UW, but he's already prepared for that.  He would be able to not only accomplish a second and third major in statistics and math, but he'll have the opportunity to fulfill some master's degree level courses in Chemistry as he does so.  He could also - at any time - decide he just wants to get a minor in the math and stats areas and finish on time.  He can do however much or little as he wants.  He could even ditch the whole idea of a second and third major and graduate..... next Spring.

AAAKCKK!!  A part of me - ok a HUGE part of me - really hopes he does NOT lean toward that option.  It's already hard enough to know I only get 5 weeks a year (on the high end) of him being under our roof.  He's applying for summer research internships that will be taking him out of state most summers from here on out.  Sigh.  So... graduating early?  Not on my top 10 list of things I want.

However, I fully recognize, it's not about ME.  It's not about what I want. It's about Jacob -- what he wants, what's best for him.  He'll have to decide what that looks like as he moves along in this journey of life and college.  I trust his judgement -- he's done well so far.

So, we'll wait and see what he decides.

If he chooses to get those extra degrees?  A bonus for Techno and I!!!  We'll have him nearby for a year longer than expected AND he'll be on campus as his younger sister and brother begin their college endeavors.

All around -- WIN -- in my book.

Fried Bologna

At one time, very few people in our household liked bologna as a sandwich meat.  Bethany and I and occasionally Trinity were the only ones.  Jacob would eat it if served, but I think he preferred other options.  Techno, Elijah, Charity, and Selah were downright opposed to the stuff.

I'm not going to get into the healthy or not so healthy benefits of bologna.  People can have their own opinions on that matter and we'll just leave it at that.  LOL!

Recently, on one of our 'outings', we decided to get 'lunch' at Walmart.  That meant picking up Lunchables or other 'finger type foods' to eat in the car rather than stopping at McDonald's for McNuggets and fries. (When you have 2 with Celiac disease, such a stop is no longer practical.)  Lunchable options are also limited for the celiac bunch which led us to look at lunch meat options everyone could share.

Bethany of course chose bologna.   Elijah chose turkey.  We also grabbed string cheese and some crackers - regular and gluten free varieties.  I let the littles pick out the mini-lunchables that only cost a dollar.  Charity and Trinity chose pizza pitas and Selah chose nachos and cheese (one of the few gluten free options).  Bethany and Elijah both opted out on the Lunchable front.

Out we went to the car.  At this point, Selah was NOT filled up after eating her tiny serving of chips so she asked if she could 'try' the round meat.  AKA: Bologna.  Bethany abliged and passed her a piece of the round sandwich meat.    Charity followed suit and tried the 'strange new food' as well.

Upon finishing their first pieces, they asked for another.  And another.  And another.  I was sitting in the front smiling at how many pieces they ended up eating.

The next day they finished off the package for a snack mid-morning.  (This is a bonus as it's a no-carb, free snack for the T1D's in the house.)

Selah then asked me to 'buy more round meat' next time I was at the store.  I happily complied and did so.

Fast forward to today.  It was time for lunch. I wasn't really in the mood to be very creative. I was hungry but didn't know for what.  As I meandered into the kitchen, I saw the 'snack items' the kids had left on the counter.  (Eye roll at the fact it was left on the counter, but.... I digress, that's not the point of this post.)

Bologna.

It sat there staring at me and the memories flooded in.

I knew what I'd make.  I had made it in the past - but not for a long time.  Not even sure the littles have experienced this little gem of a treat.

Fried bologna.

I recall quite vividly my own mom making fried bologna sandwiches. It wasn't a frequent meal, but every once in awhile, she'd break out the frying pan; get the bologna out; plop several pieces in the pan; slice an X down the middle of each piece; turn up the heat; and sizzle away.  After a short while, she'd flip each piece till the other side was nice and brown.  While that was taking place, she'd slather up several pieces of bread with mayonnaise to make our 'fried bologna sandwiches'.  Usually a slice of cheese was added as soon as the bologna hit the bread so the heat from the fresh 'fried' meat could melt it - just a little bit.  I called to mind making a fried bologna sandwich for the first time in my first apartment in college.  Even then, the act of making them brought back those fond childhood memories of mom standing at the stove, frying up this simple, but comforting meal for us kids.

It was always fun to watch as the bologna would 'bubble up' in the middle as it heated up.  Hence the X in the middle to prevent it from bubbling too far and not cooking evenly.

I did the same.  I pulled down one of my large frying pans and plopped several perfect, round pieces of bologna inside. I cut slices down the middle of each - forming an X - and began frying it up; wondering how my own children would respond to this unique meal.

I decided not to make sandwiches which lowered the overall carb count of the dish, but instead sprinkled shredded cheese atop each piece, offered the mayo on the side, and gave each kiddo a handful of crackers (saltines for some and gluten free bagel chips for those who couldn't have the saltines).

It's funny how something so simple as a container of bologna could bring back such memories and cause one to try out an old tradition on a new generation.

I can't say they 'loved' fried bologna quite as much as I remembered loving it as a child. But... I was  able to share a memory snippet of my mom with them.  A bit of my childhood that brought a smile to my face.

Next time I'll make sandwiches and see if it goes over any better.  :-)

Insulin Pump Change Day

Today is pump change day.  That means we have to insert a new inset/cannula and fill the girls' insulin pumps with new insulin.

Since starting on insulin pumps in October of 2015, the girls are thrilled to not have 4 - 6 shots via a pen needle or syringe each day.  However, the 'big poke' every 3 days is still painful and challenging.

We use a numbing cream to help offset the pain, but sometimes it still hurts.  We've learned that putting the cream on before breakfast and letting it sit while the girls eat results in much less pain for them both.

Today, as we prepare for Selah's inset she quietly speaks, "I really don't like the big pokes."  Following a short pause, she continues, "But I'm sure glad it gives me insulin to live."

I fight back tears but quickly agree with her.  "I'm glad it gives you insulin too, baby.  I'm sorry the pokes hurt, though."

We proceed to change her pump site.  She rewinds her cartridge.  I fill the new cartridge with insulin.  She takes out the old and inserts the new bottle into her pump.  She hits load cartridge.  Once it is done setting up, we prime her pump.  This fills the tubing that connects the pump to her body with insulin.  She likes to watch the insulin as it travels the curls and swirls of the tubing - chanting, "It's going, going, going, NOW!"  When she yells now, I know the insulin should be coming out the needle at the end of the tubing. I stop pushing the button to make the insulin flow.  Now she's ready for 'THE BIG POKE'.

We remove the tape that is over the numbing cream. Wipe off any excess.  Swab the area with alcohol to make sure it's sterile.  Then, get her inset ready to be inserted.

I line up the inset where the numbing cream was applied.  She takes a few deep breaths.  "Ok," she mutters quietly.  With a quick squeeze of the inset case, the needle strikes; imbedding the cannula under her skin to enable it to deliver the life saving insulin for the next 3 days.

Her inset after I squeeze to inset the needle.
The cough drop is for size comparison.
It's not exactly a tiny needle.

Her inset before I squeeze to inset the needle

Now she's ready to reconnect her pump and fill the cannula.  She's set.  Her insulin pump should deliver whenever programmed or prompted until it's time for another change -- as long as no complications arise.  (Thankfully, we've not experienced too many difficulties with the girls' pumps thus far.)

It's become our routine.  Every three days we go through this little ritual.  Gather the supplies, apply the cream, disconnect the pumps, fill the canisters, prime the pumps, insert the needles, re-connect the pumps, fill the cannulas, and away they go.

I can't say it's mundane because the anxiety it provokes in our little girls is anything but.  The internal fight of knowing this is for their good, yet knowing I am causing them physical pain is daunting.  But... it is becoming our norm.  I personally no longer get heart palpitations at the very thought of filling a canister by drawing out insulin from a vial with a syringe; fearing I may leave bubbles that could cause high blood glucose levels if not fettered out.  I also no longer cry each time I have to give the girls a shot or another inset.  They no longer cry either.

Guess we're learning that we are tough.  They much more so than me.

I'm so very thankful for the many advancements we have today to help us manage the girls' type 1 diabetes.  We have a lot of tools at our finger tips that help us monitor and cope with this disease.  Yet, none of them are full proof.  None of them are simple.

It will continue to be my prayer that a cure will be found soon.  That our little girls will no longer have to have 'THE BIG POKE". That their pancreases will be rejuvenated and produce it's own insulin again.

Until that day, however, I will be the best pancreas I can be.  I will do pump changes every 3 days.  I will advocate and educate.  I will monitor highs and lows.  I will give fast acting carbs to bring up a low and give more insulin to bring down a high.  I will strive to help our girls live a fulfilling life.

A Bunny Funeral

Part of choosing to have animals - and a lot of them - is the knowledge that they will, in fact, die.

Last fall, when Techno went on a work trip to Ohio, raccoons managed to infiltrate our chicken coop and killed two of our hens.  The ensuing adventure was just that -- quite an adventure.  Staring down raccoons with a flashlight; trying to scare them away by banging on the run walls; tossing rocks at the raccoon that refused to jump off the coop roof; setting traps; catching coons; needing to dispose of said raccoons.  All while Doug was out of town.  I declared we were official 'farm, mountain folk' after that escapade.

Now, here we are.  A new year.  Techno in Ohio for work again.  A friend reminded me of our mishaps that occurred the last time Techno traveled.  I thanked her for her happy memories.  :-)

Monday morning, little Miss Charity decided to go pet her bunny that she received as a gift on her Birthday last fall.  A few minutes later she returned with tear stained cheeks.  "I think Orchid is dead," she sniffled.  Upon further inspection by her big sister, it was confirmed.  Our very first rabbit had passed away in the night.  Tears fell.  Words of comfort were spoken.

Orchid being loved on by the girls

Although losing a beloved pet is difficult; sad; heartbreaking, I'm glad our children get to experience this life event.  It's not easy, but it teaches them a great deal.

The circle of life.

It helps them appreciate what they have and realize we never know when our time is going to be up.  When something we love dearly is no longer going to be with us.

Following the tears and sharing memories and thoughts of Orchid, the older children dug a hole so we could bury her the next day.

Elijah found a 'soft' spot to dig

It always amazes me to see how resilient little ones are.  Sure, Charity remained sad about her first bunny pet, but she accepted the reality that she was now gone and moved on.  She mentioned her throughout the day, but with fondness rather than severe sadness.  She planned the 'funeral' and asked often when we'd be able to complete her burial.

The next morning, we went outside and had a little 'funeral' for Orchid the New Zealand rabbit.  It was sweet.  It was short.  It was closure.

Making the hole bigger

The hole wasn't quite big enough so a bit more digging was in order.  

Team work to find rocks

Looking for rocks, or just running.  Either way, joy was exuded

It's still snowy and cold here, not to mention we live on a mountain, so the soil is mostly rocks.  We knew the hole wasn't necessarily deep enough to prevent predators from digging up our pet bunny's body.  The search began for large rocks to roll over her gravesite.  The joy the girls experienced as they ran around our property finding rocks; carrying them to the graveside; rolling them along the plain; filled my heart with joy and loads of memories for years to come.

Orchid's 'headstone' of sorts

As we finished digging the hole and gathering up rocks and a large pallet to cover it, the girls produced a large brick to write an inscription upon to memorialize Orchid and her resting place.  It was touching.










A few words were shared.  A prayer spoken.  Our little funeral was complete.


Yep, this is life living in the country.

Owning land and animals.

Life.

Death.

They go hand in hand.


What a wonderful time of bonding together as we celebrated the joy this rabbit brought to our family - even if for a short time, and the teamwork that her burial produced.

Charity and Selah spending one last moment with Orchid

Heavy

Just as I start to feel a little lighter, something swoops along and drags my heart back down.

Nothing specific most of the time.  It just hits.

Heavy.

Lead filled.

Buried.

That's how I've felt the last couple of days - again.

I had felt I was coming out of the 'fog of grief'.

But more changes have brought it all back to the surface.

I know it's for a time.

I know it gets easier each day.

But, today?

Today I hurt.

Today I'm fighting tears at every turn.

Today I want to hide; to crawl into a cave and pretend our lives aren't ours.

Today I want my mom back.  To be able to call her, hug her, see her face again - here on earth.

Today I want my girls to NOT need injections of insulin with each meal they eat.  Just. to. survive.

Today I don't want to learn all new gluten free meals to replace Selah's favorites.  To diligently avoid cross contamination w/each meal I prepare.

Today I don't want to consider the auto immune complications that 'could be' in our girls' futures.  All our children's futures.

Today I don't want my oldest son to be a college sophomore - out on his own.

Today I want life back to the way it was.  Before all the changes; before all the heartache; before all the fear.

God, I NEED your strength.  I need your peace.  I want to feel joy.  I want to CHOOSE joy.  Help me do that.  Help me overcome the dread, the heaviness of all that's transpired over the last several months.  Help relieve my fears.  I KNOW things could be worse, but when it's all sitting there, heavy on my chest, it's hard to see HOW.  Be my feet, Lord.  Lift me up and keep me going.  Be my strength.  Get me through this day. This hour. This moment.

In Jesus name,
Amen