Hey LA Fans!

Come meet my Black Silkie and Buff Orpington this Sunday at the California Baby Family Festival Fair. I will be there hoping my chickens don't get too stressed out and sharing my love for all things fowl. Even my husband who hates farm chores will show -- so he says.

Should be a great time and who knows...You might win a $1,000 vertical gardening system from woollypocket. Proceeds benefit the Garden School Foundation.

So please, stop by and see what all the noise is about! My chickens would love to see you! For further info, check out California Baby Family Festival.

Seeds and Scum

The remnants of today's canning of almost seedless raspberry jam. 

Delicious scum is on the left. 

Scoop it up and pour it on vanilla ice cream. Divine!
 
The seeds will be breakfast for the chickens.

The Butter Cow

My first experience with a fair was the Illinois State Fair.  I was just barely 20, working in a press office, writing stilted press releases on an old IBM typewriter and reading the latest news of the day which, if I remember correctly, featured Vanessa Williams' naked pictures in Penthouse. 

It was easy work. Decent pay for a summer  job where I chased politicians, wrote stories about the annual butter cow, and interviewed singer, songwriter Willie Nelson.  It was good experience and life altering, since I would come to live in Central Illinois later in life, and meet my husband. One of our first dates? Why yes, the Illinois State Fair.

It’s been 20 years since we had that first encounter -- complete with lemon shake-ups and vinegar fries. I liked the Illinois fair because of what it stood for in the agricultural Midwest -- 4-H clubs showcasing their best in animal husbandry, bad 80s concert bands, and my favorite activity: City kids could actually milk a cow with their hands for 25 cents. No liability issues there! 

Now we live in Southern California, and I’m not sure why we don’t frequent the LA County Fair more since I like fairs in general.  But this year was different. For I, on a whim, submitted some of my canned jams for competition. And you know what? I won.

The only prize I received for something I made was when I was 10, winning second place in a sewing contest. I won a book. This time they brought out the big guns: ribbons. I won two first-place blue ribbons, one third-place white, and the kicker, a purple ribbon touting my greatest accomplishment: Best of Division.

I’m excited as all get-out to have my name among the other winners – especially the ones who don’t even live in Los Angeles County.

The LA County Fair is no means a fair that comes straight out of the Midwest. For one, there is no 4-H competition (it's my understanding that those competitions will happen after the fair), and you also can't milk a cow unless you mean holding a metal contraption that milks a cow. But it is still a lot of fun -- especially if you suck up the high cost of parking, food and rides, lower your expectations on how many different kinds of animals you'll see, and, of course, win a competition or two.

My husband, who hates farm chores, never cared too much for Central Illinois and things like county and state fairs.

I, on the other hand, always have loved the vast flat land of green and dairy, and of course, a good fair.

Thanks LA. You may not be the best fair I’ve ever attended, but you're a winner in my eyes.

Baby, It's Hot Outside

Hens normally like to keep their pretty little feet dry, dirty and dusty. Not today. I made a puddle of water and mud, and they were happy pretending to be ducks, wading, scratching and drinking to keep cool.

So What's in Your Compost Bin?

I opened our handy kitchen pot that holds our daily compost scraps and I thought to myself, "Damn, it's been nearly a year since I've last posted something on Mothercluck.com. I've got to do something about that."

And so here I am.

A lot of things have happened since my last post, The Big Molt. I was offered an unexpected job, and, unfortunately, I lost that job unexpectedly nearly a year later.

Chicken and Pox, the poster children of Mothercluck.com have both died. Our homestead also lost Gracie, The Ugly One, this past April when she no longer could walk because of an unfortunate neurological ailment. I still miss them all, especially Chicken and Grace. I'm sure there will be a post about them in the near future.

But there have been some blessings, too. My son entered kindergarten this year and is thriving. We have added three new chickens to our flock,  and they produce some exceptionally brilliant and beautiful blue, taupe, and cocoa-colored eggs. We've had a bumper crop of tomatoes and other vegetables because of our chicken poop/compost pile.

Oh, and I can now add that I'm an award-winning canner and preserver. Again, more about that later.

So, welcome back and enjoy. My husband still hates farm chores, so I've got to go empty the compost scraps. There's some serious mold growing in there!

The Big Molt

It's the beginning of molting season here at mothercluck and although Pox continues to lay eggs like it's summer, Chicken hasn't laid one since Halloween. The top egg is a big picture snapshot of her last fully developed egg. And then here's a close up:



And then before you knew it, I dropped it on the floor.