Doing What's Right On A Friday Night

I don't know about your Friday nights but ours are usually pretty tame. We switch off cooking gourmet dinners with friends. We come home, put Lil to bed, and maybe watch a movie. I try to go to sleep early because I work at the Farmers' Market in the morning. No big deal. But this week, the homestead necessities interrupted our relaxing week end plans.

We canceled dinner with friends because Lil has been battling a cough for days on end. It comes on at night and we're all beyond exhausted from 3 am coughing spells. We planned a quiet evening at home.

Chores still had to be done, of course. On my afternoon visit to the chicken coop with fresh warm water, I noticed Cirrus, our Salmon Faverolle chicken, with what looked like a shell-less egg and some poop frozen to her rear. Ick. I knew there could be several causes of this but at a minimum the frozen stuff had to come off.

I brought her inside for a soak in warm water. She didn't resist and I added 'bathed a chicken' to my homesteader resume. Next came my 'cloaca anatomy' test. I don't claim expert knowledge in this area, but anyone could tell Cirrus was not well back there.

Lil helped me set her up with water, food, and bedding in a dog crate so she could dry off and we could see if she improved with a little warmth and rest. I consulted with local chicken folks and BackyardChickens.com, determining she had a prolapsed cloaca.

Culling a Sick Hen

I'll spare more details but after Lil's bedtime, Alex and I  determined that Cirrus was not well and very unlikely to heal under the circumstances. We looked at a shivering restless bird and knew our Friday night must take a dark turn.

Alex did the deed and I heated a pot of water. If the issue was only a physical abnormality, we could make soup from her, wasting nothing from her well-lived existence. I plucked her prodigious creamy orange feathers, marveling at how different this heritage bird was from the creepy meats. Alas, the plucking revealed signs of infection. The ground frozen, we had to throw her body in the trash rather than bury her. Rest In Peace, Cirrus.

We never want to cull a sick hen, least of all after an exhausting week. It took several hours for me to wind down from making the unfortunate decision to end an animal's suffering. While the evening was decidedly more grueling and stinky than expected, we know we spent Friday night doing what was right.

Doing What's Right On A Friday Night

I don't know about your Friday nights but ours are usually pretty tame. We switch off cooking gourmet dinners with friends. We come home, put Lil to bed, and maybe watch a movie. I try to go to sleep early because I work at the Farmers' Market in the morning. No big deal. But this week, the homestead necessities interrupted our relaxing week end plans.

We canceled dinner with friends because Lil has been battling a cough for days on end. It comes on at night and we're all beyond exhausted from 3 am coughing spells. We planned a quiet evening at home.

Chores still had to be done, of course. On my afternoon visit to the chicken coop with fresh warm water, I noticed Cirrus, our Salmon Faverolle chicken, with what looked like a shell-less egg and some poop frozen to her rear. Ick. I knew there could be several causes of this but at a minimum the frozen stuff had to come off.

I brought her inside for a soak in warm water. She didn't resist and I added 'bathed a chicken' to my homesteader resume. Next came my 'cloaca anatomy' test. I don't claim expert knowledge in this area, but anyone could tell Cirrus was not well back there.

Lil helped me set her up with water, food, and bedding in a dog crate so she could dry off and we could see if she improved with a little warmth and rest. I consulted with local chicken folks and BackyardChickens.com, determining she had a prolapsed cloaca.

Culling a Sick Hen

I'll spare more details but after Lil's bedtime, Alex and I  determined that Cirrus was not well and very unlikely to heal under the circumstances. We looked at a shivering restless bird and knew our Friday night must take a dark turn.

Alex did the deed and I heated a pot of water. If the issue was only a physical abnormality, we could make soup from her, wasting nothing from her well-lived existence. I plucked her prodigious creamy orange feathers, marveling at how different this heritage bird was from the creepy meats. Alas, the plucking revealed signs of infection. The ground frozen, we had to throw her body in the trash rather than bury her. Rest In Peace, Cirrus.

We never want to cull a sick hen, least of all after an exhausting week. It took several hours for me to wind down from making the unfortunate decision to end an animal's suffering. While the evening was decidedly more grueling and stinky than expected, we know we spent Friday night doing what was right.

Heating With A Woodstove

We bought a woodstove at Menard's on clearance last spring. In October, Kicking Ash installed it for us. Heating with a woodstove is a romantic homesteading ideal and we do enjoy it. But today I thought I'd uncover some of the not-so-fun reality:

1. The hearth will be messy. Keeping a fire roaring requires moving and adding logs every few hours and clearing out ashes every couple days. This will necessitate sweeping at least every other day, something that annoys my lazy housekeeping self.

2. The entrance to your home will also be messy. We store a week's worth of kindling in the not-quite-finished mudroom and bring in bigger logs daily. Every movement of wood fuel creates a trail of sawdust, bark, and leaves.

3. The air will be dry dry dry. After getting by with an open stainless dish of water for a little while, I found a large vintage cast aluminum tea kettle that we now keep filled with water to humidify the air.

4. Your daughter might see wood ash and a slate hearth as an art medium. Her kitten might erase all the images with a swish of his tail. Now the kitten will be, you guessed it, messy.

5. Your pets will gather as close as possible to the radiating warmth. This is charming and you will feel sorry that you have to disturb them to add another log to the fire.

6. You will underestimate the amount of wood you need for a given day or week or season and be out at the woodpile chopping in all weather. Splitting logs is good, empowering exercise. It's also a never-ending exhaustive task.

7. You will feel deep satisfaction from harvesting renewable fuel and using it to fill your home with beautiful warmth.

Heating With A Woodstove

We bought a woodstove at Menard's on clearance last spring. In October, Kicking Ash installed it for us. Heating with a woodstove is a romantic homesteading ideal and we do enjoy it. But today I thought I'd uncover some of the not-so-fun reality:

1. The hearth will be messy. Keeping a fire roaring requires moving and adding logs every few hours and clearing out ashes every couple days. This will necessitate sweeping at least every other day, something that annoys my lazy housekeeping self.

2. The entrance to your home will also be messy. We store a week's worth of kindling in the not-quite-finished mudroom and bring in bigger logs daily. Every movement of wood fuel creates a trail of sawdust, bark, and leaves.

3. The air will be dry dry dry. After getting by with an open stainless dish of water for a little while, I found a large vintage cast aluminum tea kettle that we now keep filled with water to humidify the air.

4. Your daughter might see wood ash and a slate hearth as an art medium. Her kitten might erase all the images with a swish of his tail. Now the kitten will be, you guessed it, messy.

5. Your pets will gather as close as possible to the radiating warmth. This is charming and you will feel sorry that you have to disturb them to add another log to the fire.

6. You will underestimate the amount of wood you need for a given day or week or season and be out at the woodpile chopping in all weather. Splitting logs is good, empowering exercise. It's also a never-ending exhaustive task.

7. You will feel deep satisfaction from harvesting renewable fuel and using it to fill your home with beautiful warmth.

Tackling the Oddest Cut & Making Head Cheese

In all our charcuterie practice, there's one part of the pig that we've never fully explored. We finally faced the meat and it returned a couple pounds of tender succulent pulled pieces, 7 quarts of stock, and one specimen for anatomy study. What was it?

The head.

When we contracted with a butcher to eviscerate and skin our last pig from Six Bucket's Farm, it arrived head on. "What will we do with that?" we wondered as we dutifully packaged it for the freezer. Our next pig is growing large and almost due to head to the butcher as well, so we're clearing out the freezer. The head demanded our attention.

Making Head Cheese

Alex started the cooking by simmering the head and a ham hock in a large pot of water with onions and garlic overnight in a low stove. (This is the way we make all stock now, by the way.) Next, he picked the meat off the bones, reserving the liquid stock. Lil loved these meat pickings, eating two meals of pork chunks alone.

To make the terrine, Alex combined the meat with spices and a bit of stock. He compressed this mixture in a mold overnight. Find a full recipe in Charcuterie: The Craft of Salting, Smoking, and Curing, though Alex adapted for the winter season by using stronger clove and allspice seasonings.

"Why does this have to be called head cheese?" I moaned to Alex. It's a seriously delicious potted meat with a name that turns so many people away. The 'cheese' part is a complete misnomer because it's not made of milk or cured with lactofermentation or melty or anything like cheese. Pork terrine is a generic but adequate descriptor. Charcuterie friends also suggested pig parts terrine, souse, or braun.

We're fortunate to have culinarily curious friends who were able to get over the name and try our head cheese. Served on homemade baguette with sour cherry spread, they loved it.

Using Every Last Bit

Later, I reheated the strained stock, sanitized jars, and pressure canned it. Our selection of nourishing stock makes warm meals simple - open a jar, add veggies, meat, noodles, and/or dumplings, and soup is served.

Finally, we needed to dispense of the large skull and jaw bone. The chickens would love cleaning the bones, but instead we delivered them to Alex's mom, a teacher at the School for Young Children, a play-based preschool. She sanitized the bones and added them to the SYC nature table. Lil demands that the next skull can't be given away because she wants it for herself to study.

Meat is Meat is Meat

In processing the pig's head for edible meat, we concluded again that there are no 'good cuts' and 'odd cuts'. It's all just meat.

Some choose not to consume animal flesh, and that's OK. But for those of us who do, what's the difference between eating an animal's thigh versus the cheek? Flesh and fat can be enjoyed from any part of the animal. Bacon, the revered 'makes everything tastier' meat, is from a belly that wallows in mud, if the animal lives a good life.

If you're eating meat at all, you owe it to the creature to use every part. Now we know that the head isn't just an odd cut to be conquered, but one full of succulent meals.

Have you made or eaten head cheese? 

Tackling the Oddest Cut & Making Head Cheese

In all our charcuterie practice, there's one part of the pig that we've never fully explored. We finally faced the meat and it returned a couple pounds of tender succulent pulled pieces, 7 quarts of stock, and one specimen for anatomy study. What was it?

The head.

When we contracted with a butcher to eviscerate and skin our last pig from Six Bucket's Farm, it arrived head on. "What will we do with that?" we wondered as we dutifully packaged it for the freezer. Our next pig is growing large and almost due to head to the butcher as well, so we're clearing out the freezer. The head demanded our attention.

Making Head Cheese

Alex started the cooking by simmering the head and a ham hock in a large pot of water with onions and garlic overnight in a low stove. (This is the way we make all stock now, by the way.) Next, he picked the meat off the bones, reserving the liquid stock. Lil loved these meat pickings, eating two meals of pork chunks alone.

To make the terrine, Alex combined the meat with spices and a bit of stock. He compressed this mixture in a mold overnight. Find a full recipe in Charcuterie: The Craft of Salting, Smoking, and Curing, though Alex adapted for the winter season by using stronger clove and allspice seasonings.

"Why does this have to be called head cheese?" I moaned to Alex. It's a seriously delicious potted meat with a name that turns so many people away. The 'cheese' part is a complete misnomer because it's not made of milk or cured with lactofermentation or melty or anything like cheese. Pork terrine is a generic but adequate descriptor. Charcuterie friends also suggested pig parts terrine, souse, or braun.

We're fortunate to have culinarily curious friends who were able to get over the name and try our head cheese. Served on homemade baguette with sour cherry spread, they loved it.

Using Every Last Bit

Later, I reheated the strained stock, sanitized jars, and pressure canned it. Our selection of nourishing stock makes warm meals simple - open a jar, add veggies, meat, noodles, and/or dumplings, and soup is served.

Finally, we needed to dispense of the large skull and jaw bone. The chickens would love cleaning the bones, but instead we delivered them to Alex's mom, a teacher at the School for Young Children, a play-based preschool. She sanitized the bones and added them to the SYC nature table. Lil demands that the next skull can't be given away because she wants it for herself to study.

Meat is Meat is Meat

In processing the pig's head for edible meat, we concluded again that there are no 'good cuts' and 'odd cuts'. It's all just meat.

Some choose not to consume animal flesh, and that's OK. But for those of us who do, what's the difference between eating an animal's thigh versus the cheek? Flesh and fat can be enjoyed from any part of the animal. Bacon, the revered 'makes everything tastier' meat, is from a belly that wallows in mud, if the animal lives a good life.

If you're eating meat at all, you owe it to the creature to use every part. Now we know that the head isn't just an odd cut to be conquered, but one full of succulent meals.

Have you made or eaten head cheese? 

Tackling Outdoor Chores In Bitter Cold

Forecasts for central Ohio predict some of the coldest temperatures in decades over the next few days. We're preparing the wood stock, reinforcing the livestock (straw bales everywhere!), and planning a menu of warm foods.

One reality of keeping animals is that we must go outside several times a day to tend them every day, more often in the coldest weather. With adequate preparation, appropriate gear, and a smooth routine, chores in the cold feel more like a triumph than, well, a chore.

Mentally Prepare -

Every morning in the winter, I lay in bed for at least fifteen minutes readying myself to put my feet on the floor. It's not that I don't want to wake - it's that my first task of the day is to head outside with the dog and a chicken waterer to open up the coop. My face full of wind and snow is not a gentle way to start the day, but the thought of my hens waiting in the coop motivates me to face the weather.

Dress In Wool, Silk, and Fleece Layers -

To feel most comfortable, cover your body in materials that insulate even when wet, with no breaks where cold air can come in. Layers create pockets of air around your body that will stay warm from your own body heat.

My base layer everyday is usually fine merino wool. If I'm just feeding the chickens, I'll put jeans and a sweater on top. If the chores are more lengthy, I choose Carhartt Overalls and a heavy fleece. Then comes my two-layer fleece and waterproof-breathable jacket. I have wool stocks, gloves, and a hat which are topped with a second layer of wool socks, waterproof gloves and hood in the coldest weather. I choose my Bogs High Boots for water-proof insulating footwear. A wool or silk scarf which can be pulled over the nose and sunglasses to help protect my eyes from wind complete the outfit.

Compiling adequate layers can take years of investing in quality pieces. We like to shop REI outlet and Sierra Trading Post for discontinued and clearance clothing from reputable makers like Marmot, Smartwool, and Mountain Hardwear. Thrift stores are a great source of fleece, wool tops, and boots.

Gather Supplies Under Shelter -

If at all possible, stay out of the wind and precipitation as often as you can, especially when gathering supplies. We rotate our chicken waterers, keeping the empties in our mudroom so we can fill them in the house. When I'm taking out compost, ashes, or trash, I stage those in the mudroom so that I can grab them quickly without tracking snow in the house and letting cold air in. Similarly, we use the garage for supply and tool storage. Every tool has a place so that we aren't outside searching in cold weather.

Work Quickly -

When you finally make a break through the wind-chill and snow, work as efficiently as possible without making mistakes. Spills are the worst because wet clothes are heavy and uncomfortable, though if you've chosen wool, silk, and fleece, they will still keep you warm. Skip mentoring children through chores or tackling a big project in frigid weather - keep your outside tasks to a minimum to avoid frustration and frostbite.

Warm Up With A Hot Drink -

Finally, come inside and warm up. Unwrap the layers and change into something dry if you're wet from precipitation or sweating. I turn on the tea kettle as I walk in the door and warm up from the inside out with hot tea, coffee, or a rum flip, depending on the time of day. If hot drinks aren't your thing, do sip on a glass of water - your body dehydrates rapidly in cold weather. Bask in the triumph of braving the weather and completing your chores in (relative) comfort!

How do you stay comfortable during winter outdoor chores?

Tackling Outdoor Chores In Bitter Cold

Forecasts for central Ohio predict some of the coldest temperatures in decades over the next few days. We're preparing the wood stock, reinforcing the livestock (straw bales everywhere!), and planning a menu of warm foods.

One reality of keeping animals is that we must go outside several times a day to tend them every day, more often in the coldest weather. With adequate preparation, appropriate gear, and a smooth routine, chores in the cold feel more like a triumph than, well, a chore.

Mentally Prepare -

Every morning in the winter, I lay in bed for at least fifteen minutes readying myself to put my feet on the floor. It's not that I don't want to wake - it's that my first task of the day is to head outside with the dog and a chicken waterer to open up the coop. My face full of wind and snow is not a gentle way to start the day, but the thought of my hens waiting in the coop motivates me to face the weather.

Dress In Wool, Silk, and Fleece Layers -

To feel most comfortable, cover your body in materials that insulate even when wet, with no breaks where cold air can come in. Layers create pockets of air around your body that will stay warm from your own body heat.

My base layer everyday is usually fine merino wool. If I'm just feeding the chickens, I'll put jeans and a sweater on top. If the chores are more lengthy, I choose Carhartt Overalls and a heavy fleece. Then comes my two-layer fleece and waterproof-breathable jacket. I have wool stocks, gloves, and a hat which are topped with a second layer of wool socks, waterproof gloves and hood in the coldest weather. I choose my Bogs High Boots for water-proof insulating footwear. A wool or silk scarf which can be pulled over the nose and sunglasses to help protect my eyes from wind complete the outfit.

Compiling adequate layers can take years of investing in quality pieces. We like to shop REI outlet and Sierra Trading Post for discontinued and clearance clothing from reputable makers like Marmot, Smartwool, and Mountain Hardwear. Thrift stores are a great source of fleece, wool tops, and boots.

Gather Supplies Under Shelter -

If at all possible, stay out of the wind and precipitation as often as you can, especially when gathering supplies. We rotate our chicken waterers, keeping the empties in our mudroom so we can fill them in the house. When I'm taking out compost, ashes, or trash, I stage those in the mudroom so that I can grab them quickly without tracking snow in the house and letting cold air in. Similarly, we use the garage for supply and tool storage. Every tool has a place so that we aren't outside searching in cold weather.

Work Quickly -

When you finally make a break through the wind-chill and snow, work as efficiently as possible without making mistakes. Spills are the worst because wet clothes are heavy and uncomfortable, though if you've chosen wool, silk, and fleece, they will still keep you warm. Skip mentoring children through chores or tackling a big project in frigid weather - keep your outside tasks to a minimum to avoid frustration and frostbite.

Warm Up With A Hot Drink -

Finally, come inside and warm up. Unwrap the layers and change into something dry if you're wet from precipitation or sweating. I turn on the tea kettle as I walk in the door and warm up from the inside out with hot tea, coffee, or a rum flip, depending on the time of day. If hot drinks aren't your thing, do sip on a glass of water - your body dehydrates rapidly in cold weather. Bask in the triumph of braving the weather and completing your chores in (relative) comfort!

How do you stay comfortable during winter outdoor chores?