Fixie's Shelf

Hello and Welcome

Hello to those of you who have found my blog through Grass Roots Magazine, and to those of you who have found it through my book, The Grimstones: Hatched.  Welcome!  It's lovely to meet you.  Do leave a comment to say hello, and thanks to those of you who already have.

With two publications hitting the shelves the same month, and lots of new readers on my blog as a result, I thought I would write something to make it easier to find your way around.  Click on my side bar to read the guide to this blog I created this morning.

There are links to help you find out more about The Grimstones, my gothic marionette show which is now a book.  And there are links to help you find out more about living sustainably and self-sufficiently, which is my passion.

Chickens for meat - plans for next year

I did this page in my journal to remind me what to do when next year rocks around and I raise another batch of chickens for meat.

I've been thinking and thinking about how I can streamline the process and the budget, now that I've got a bit of experience.  Raising the chicks was a lot of work, and the main thing that was a pain was catching every one of 17 chickens by hand, and carrying them into their box in the laundry, when I needed to bring them in.  I'd let them out for an hour or two when it was sunny, and then suddenly a cold wind would spring up.  They were only half-feathered at this stage and couldn't really cope with the cold weather.  So frantically we'd try to round them all up, one at a time.  Training them to come for food seemed impossible.  Then ten minutes later the sun would be out again, and I'd want to let them back into the yard, because they really didn't seem happy cooped up in their box.  You can see how it ended up being a lot of work.

I think next time I need to have a smaller fenced in yard specially for my little chickens, where they are protected from the big egg laying chickens.  And I need to set it up so that the chickens can access their home themselves, from the yard.  That way I can have their food and water in there at all times, and they should quickly learn to go in there as required.  Now I know how handy the broom is, I think with a set up like that, I could just about sweep the chickens through the door with the broom!

Their home would need to be very well insulated, so that the light bulb keeps them sufficiently warm.  I'm thinking a low, insulated wooden box, preferably lined with some kind of thermal mass such as bricks on the floor, to hold their heat.  The box would have two rooms - a small one for when they are tiny babies, and a bigger one for when they outgrow the little room and don't need as much heat.  I would then use the smaller room to sequester the chickens the night before dispatch (so they don't eat, and hence are cleaner to butcher).

The roof would open up, an insulated lid, so that I can easily change the water and food.  There should be a joist with hooks so that I can hang the waterer and feeder - hopefully their food and water will stay cleaner that way.  And ideally, the roof could be locked in a slightly open position, so that on hot nights they have good ventilation.

I did a page in my journal about my plans for next year.  I'm not sure if I will actually make this ideal chook house - I will probably find a way to do it though, because I plan for many years of chook raising now that I know I can do it.

The Money-less Man

Have you read this book?  The Money-Less Man is written by Mark Boyle, who went for a year without spending a cent.  I found his book both entertaining and inspiring.  I was particularly interested in the section at the start where he talks about what's wrong with our current system of money and why it would be better if we didn't subscribe to it.

The example I found easiest to understand was this: 

"Imagine there is only one bank.  Mr Smith, who up to now has kept his money under the bed, decides to deposit his life savings, 100 shells [the currency] in the bank.  Naturally, the bank wants to make a profit, so decides to lend out a proportion of Mr Smith's shells, let's say 90 of them, keeping ten in their coffers in case Mr Smith wants to make a small withdrawal.  Another gentleman, Mr Jones, needs a loan.  He goes to the bank and is delighted to be given Mr Smith's 90 shells, which he'll eventually have to pay back with interest.  Mr Jones takes the shells and elects to spend them on bread, bought from Mrs Baker.  At the close of the day, Mrs Baker takes her newly-acquired 90 shells to the bank.  Do you see what's happened?  Originally, Mr Smith deposited 100 shells in the bank.  Now, in addition to Mr Smith's 100 shells, the bank has Mrs Baker's 90 shells.  100 shells has become 190.  Money has been created.  What's more, the bank can now lend out a proportion of Mrs Baker's deposit!  The process can start again.

"Of course, the physical number of shells hasn't changed.  If both Mr Smith and Mrs Brown wanted their shells back at the same time, the bank would be in a fix.  However, this rarely happens, and if it did, the bank would have shells from other depositors to use.  The problems start when the bank lends out 90% of all their depositors' shells.  The result is that of all the shells in all the bank accounts of this fictional world, only 10% exist!  If all the depositors wanted more than 10% of the total amount of shells at the same time, the bank would collapse... and people would realise that the bank was creating imaginary money... Recent bank crises...show the inherent instability that comes from basing our financial system on an imaginary resource."

This makes it easier for me to understand what's going on in Europe right now... Greece in particular.  As Mark Boyle points out, we are using money as a tool which enables us to borrow from the future.  He also points out that one of the big rules of finance and economy is that you don't sell off your capital to create income.  You use your capital to generate income.  But we are doing the opposite right now - using up the world's resources in a non-sustainable way, while we should be putting them to good use to ensure our future security.

Almost every dollar that we spend comes with some kind of associated carbon footprint.  It's much better to pay for a service (such as a massage) than than for a thing which needs to be created, using precious resources.  But even the services usually come with a footprint too.  For example, the towels you lie on are usually washed after only one use, the room may be heated to a particularly high temperature, and special oils have been purchased (usually from afar) to massage into your skin.  I'm not saying you should never have a massage.  What I am saying is that by spending money, we are generally causing a lot of consumption to happen on our behalf, and it's worth being mindful of that.

I've been tempted for years to try living without money, and am mighty impressed that Mark Boyle has managed to do it for a whole year.  I can't see myself going that route - I think I'm just not "hard core" enough.  But I could certainly learn to live on less.

The thing I like most about the book is Mark Boyle's absolute belief that when you take money out of the equation, we all become happier and more giving.  Money makes us meaner, makes us look after our own back rather than those around us.  He believes that it's far better to simply give, and to trust that you will receive in turn, not necessarily from the same person you gave to, though that may happen.  

Once I would have found this very airy-fairy and unreliable, however, I have a couple of neighbours who are very generous to me.  They never arrive without something in their hands to give me, and at every opportunity they offer me something from their garden, the use of their tools, a meal when I'm lonely and so on.  The result is that when I drop in on them, I take something from my pantry, and when I'm cooking I'll make a bit extra knowing they'll enjoy it.  We lost track of any score a long time ago.  The net result is a neighbourly friendship where I look for opportunities to give as much as I possibly can, and I receive bountifully.  I've noticed this good influence has encouraged me to be more giving with others around me, and I've managed to extend the circle of people to whom I give.  And now some of them have been giving to me, too.  I'm just starting to feel like I'm part of a network where I can ask my neighbours to help me when I need it, and this, Mark Boyle points out, is true security.  Being surrounded by a network of people who will look out for you is far better security than any amount of money in the bank.  When we pay for every transaction, there's no need to give anything more.  It's all over; there's no bond, no tie, no building of relationships, and no accountability.

So how did Mark live for a year without money?  He describes it in his book.  It entails living in a caravan on land owned by someone else in exchange for some labour; lots of foraging for food, both in the wild and in the bins out the back of shops, and what sounded to me like a bloody freezing winter.  I've read reviews in which some people say he's sponging off the rest of us, but I don't see it like that.  I reckon good on him for having the courage to live according to his principles, and as a result he's managed to use a lot less than the rest of us, recycle a hell of a lot of waste (especially food waste), and build a far better community than I could imagine being part of.  It's well worth the read, and will certainly get you thinking about money, your relationship to it, and how you live with it.

Mark has set up a website called Just For The Love Of It, and the proceeds from his book will not go into his pocket - they're being used to set up a "freeconomy community" - a piece of land which will be a resource for people who want to learn to live without money: a place to swap skills, borrow tools and meet like-minded people.  The website is a virtual space in which to do the same.

 

Chickens for meat sum up

I've just about completed my chickens for meat journey. All the birds but two are slaughtered, and they'll be dispatched this week. I had to give up my breeding hopes, because one of the chooks got sick with Mycoplasma Synoviae. It's a bacteria like a cold, which causes lameness and is highly contagious. It's very common in commercial flocks, and it seems likely that my chooks inherited it from their parents, and will then come down with the illness when they are under stress. Since my chooks are considerably overweight, that counts as stress, and makes them vulnerable to the infection. Once the chook comes down with Mycoplasma Synoviae, we have to kill them and we can't eat them. (We could go the vet route, antibiotics etc, but I'm not prepared to do that.) In my mind, all that work in raising the chook, and its life, and the cost of its feed, have all been wasted. I decided that rather than risking my other chooks coming down with it, I would despatch them quickly to avoid possible wastage.

So... last week was a very full on week, starting with emergency dispatch and composting of the sick chook, and then slaughtering two the next morning, and two the morning after that. It felt like we didn't get a break from the emotions that go with killing, and the exhaustion that goes with being steely, so it was a pretty heavy week. I see now that slaughtering two chooks a week is very do-able. Slaughtering five makes it feel like I'm living in a kill-fest. This week we decided to do two today and two on Thursday, so that we'll have a day's break in between. Hopefully that'll feel easier.

It takes 40 minutes to kill and process each bird. Paula and I work together for an hour and forty minutes, including some preparation and cleaning up time. It doesn't sound like much out of our day, but I really do feel exhausted afterwards and seem to need my nap. And I think it's better not to do anything else major for the rest of the day if possible. Maybe I'll get tougher eventually but that seems to be the right balance for me to manage it.

The weights of the birds ranged between 1.1kg (at six weeks) to 2.6 (the very biggest bird, slaughtered at nine weeks). We had a 2.3kg bird, but the rest were under 2kg. The final birds we did in week ten were 1.7 and 1.9kgs. If we'd done them at eight weeks I reckon they would have weighed about 1.2 - they were the smallest. Feeding them for two weeks to gain about 500g is not very efficient, I think.

So, now it's just about over, would I do it again? Definitely, yes. It gives me a true appreciation for the meat that I eat. I feel like eating a bit less of it now (very appropriate because I think I was eating too much), and what I do eat feels very precious. The homegrown chooks taste unbelievably good. Much, much better than the best biodynamic chicken we can buy. I know my chooks have a really good life, that they are well loved and pampered, have a stimulating existence full of foraging and a big variety of fresh greens to peck at. I think it would be hard to reproduce that on a commercial scale.

Next time, I think I'll do slightly fewer birds, maybe twelve, rather than sixteen. I think I'll dispatch them all between six and eight weeks, as they didn't really gain that much weight beyond eight weeks, and were much harder to kill after eight weeks as their bones became a lot tougher. Also beyond eight weeks I'm feeding them in order to maintain their body weight, which is not an efficient use of feed. That will mean killing four birds a week for three weeks. I think it'll be challenging emotionally but doable.

When they were babies, maintaining their feed and water was quite a big job, as was catching them to return them to their box at night. I think next time I'll buy a 20kg sack of starter crumble, and then when that's run out, I'll switch to my stockfeed shop recipe. Also, we now have a fenced off run, which we didn't have before. Next time, once the chooks are 2-3 weeks old, I'd like to move them out to the fenced run, ideally into a small insulated house with a lightbulb I can switch on as need. That way I can grow food in the run in advance, and I can hopefully round them up back into their house when it's cold, rather than having to catch each one individually. I've since discovered that using a broom to round up chooks works really well. I wonder if they'll be that easily rounded up as little babies, with the broom method? I would also buy a larger waterer - by 2 weeks it needed refilling three times a day!

Estimated cost of raising my chooks:
2 bottles of cod liver oil $18 each (I have most of the second bottle left ready for next time).
1 bucket of molasses $20 (I have only used one tenth of the bucket).
4 batches of my 26kg stockfeed recipe $40ish per batch
5kg bag of starter crumble $7
Roughly 10kg of homemade feed, labour intensive! $10ish?
The chooks themselves: $30 for shipping, $2 per bird (I bought 16 for me, but I also paid for Roderick's birds and his share of the shipping).
Feeder $7
Waterer $7

I estimate that to raise one chook to eating age of approx 7-8 weeks, it takes around 5kg of grain, 1.5kg of protein, and a corresponding proportion of vitamins and minerals (via seaweed, cod liver oil, molasses).

All up, not counting Roderick's birds, but including the entire shipping, it comes to roughly $300. With three deaths, I've ended up with 13 birds, which rounds out to $23 per bird. Belmores, the butcher near us, sells organic whole chickens for $30 for 1.5kgs. However, I believe my meat is FAR more nutritious than any commercial meat, in part thanks to the cod liver oil, molasses, and seaweed that I have fed them, as well as the wider range of herbs and greens they've had access to. The supplements have been the expensive components of their diet. If I just bought starter crumble and then grower crumble, it would have been MUCH cheaper, so if economy was your motivation for raising your own meat, then you could definitely do it that way.

Next time I reckon I could do it a fair bit cheaper. I would dry and grind seaweed in advance so I didn't need to buy it. I wouldn't have to buy molasses, I'd only have to buy one bottle of cod liver oil, maybe none if I dispatch sooner. I also have a contact for buying grain in bulk, so if I bought it all well in advance at the bulk price, instead of from the feed store, I'd get that cheaper.

I'm going to have a break from chicken raising for a while, and will probably raise another batch next spring. If you'd like in on the venture, let me know, and I can talk with you before I order. Sharing the cost of shipping will make it cheaper. And I'm happy to show you how to dispatch if you want to raise your own chickens and learn enroute. (Obviously this only applies to those of you in Melbourne!)

Anyone who wants to learn how to kill a chook can look here, though I ended up with a bit of a simpler set up.

Handmade Sourdough Bread

I've been making my sourdough bread by hand lately. My bread machine died, still under extended warranty, and I was given a new one. But this is the third bread machine I've gone through and I'm starting to think that bread machines create an awful lot of long term rubbish, and use a lot of resources in their making, for a very short active life. My new bread machine sits unopened in the shed - and I'm hoping to give it to my brother, if handmade bread continues to go smoothly for me. It was convenient to just whack the ingredients in the tin, press some buttons, and eat the bread the next day. But the handmade bread is a gazillion times better than the machine bread - the crust is lovely, instead of a thick armour that is utterly inedible. I don't really want to go back to eating machine bread.

Instead I now have two bread tins, and a straightforward recipe for making loaves by hand. I sewed myself these little "shower caps" out of an old shower curtain (and some elastic salvaged from fitted sheets that had worn through), so that my bread doesn't dry out as it rises. Traditional wisdom (not the plastic bag/gladwrap wisdom) says that you put a damp teatowel over the top. But I find that makes my bread a bit cold and it's slower to rise, doesn't rise as much etc. My shower caps work great.

Here's my recipe for one loaf (it's more economical to do two at once though, so double it if you have two tins):

3 cups flour,
2 cups leaven,
1 cup water
2 tsp salt.

To make the leven, the morning before, I feed the leven: 2 tbsp leven, half a cup of flour, half a cup of water, mix, leave on the bench.

The night before, I feed the leven again by adding 2 cups flour, two cups water. Mix and leave on the bench. (Put a few tablespoons of leven in a small container in the fridge ready for next week.)

On the morning, put 1 cup water in a bowl with the leven, add 2 tsp salt, mix, and then mix in 3 cups flour. Mix well for about 3-5 mins.

Now for the kneading process. It's possible to make no-knead bread, but when I did one loaf without kneading, and the other loaf kneaded I was amazed at the difference: the kneaded loaf rose beautifully and had much better texture. The unkneaded loaf was quite dense by comparison. Once you've done the above mixing of ingredients, rest the mixture for 20 minutes.

Knead for 5 mins. It'll probably be an impossible sloppy mess. Just scoop it up with your hands repeatedly and throw it down on the bench. Fold it over if you can and just let it be sloppy. The more moist it is, the nicer your bread will be.

Rest 30 mins.

Knead 5 mins. It'll be holding together better now - much smoother. If it's too dry, work in more water by wetting your hands as you knead. If it's still impossibly wet, add more flour.

Rest 20 mins.

Shape it by stretching into a rectangle, rolling up like a Swiss roll, then, optionally, roll it in some seeds. Place in your tin, cover with a shower cap or damp towel, and leave in a warm place to rise.

It takes mine 4-6 hours to rise, depending on temperature. If it's really cold, rise it in an esky with a hot water bottle for company.

Preheat the oven to 250 degrees celsius, put in the loaves and bake for 10 mins, turn it down to 180, and bake for another 30 mins.

Turn the bread out onto a rack to cool.

Enjoy!

Fishing Bag

I made this fishing bag for myself. After some very frustrating fishing attempts where the seagulls were after my bait, and I had to dig it up / rebury it every five minutes, I knew I needed a bag that sat right on my hip, with an open pocket for the bait. While fishing on the rocks, the tide came whipping in just as I caught a fish, and in trying to quickly scoop up my gear, I dropped the fish. It flipped everywhere, and I could only catch it again by dropping my gear. Just as I'd got hold of it again, the tide threatened to carry off my bag! Eventually I managed to kill the fish and rescue my very wet gear, but I decided not to go rock fishing again until I'd made a bag that would sit snugly against my body, and would have all my gear within easy reach.

Enter my fishing bag, made from an ex-shower curtain. It has a drawstring pocket that sits open for the bait, a pocket for the chopping board, a padded pocket for my knife, and a zip pocket for my tackle. And behind everything, is a big (ish) pocket for the fish that I catch. You can tell I'm not planning on catchig anything big.

I tested the bag down at the river, where I ended up having to sit on a log that protruded into the water. Boy was I glad to have my bag! I could never have managed baiting up or tying on a new rig if I'd been trying to balance all my gear on that log. I didn't catch any fish though.

Anyone recommend good fishing spots in or near Melbourne, accessible by public transport?

Chickens for Meat Update

Well, I've slaughtered five chickens now.  I wouldn't say I'm a pro though.  I'm doing it every Thursday morning.  The first Thursday, as I've mentioned, I was steely as anything.  But once it was all over I allowed myself to feel a bit weak and emotional.  That was fine.  But I noticed that as the next Thursday rolled around, I was still feeling weak and emotional.  The thought of doing it again was just hideous.  In fact I felt quite nauseous thinking about it.  Still I knew I had to go through with it, no matter what.  After all that build up, actually doing it turned out to be less painful than the thinking about it beforehands.  I vowed that in future, I won't dwell on it.  It's not making it nicer for the chickens, my feeling miserable about their deaths.

So, this last Thursday, I didn't think about it at all, beyond the basics of what I had to do to prepare.  Still, I found myself getting somewhat antsy in the lead up to the chop.  Afterwards I felt exhausted.  I couldn't rest - I had a big day of preserving and gardening jobs that simply had to happen.  Next week I'll do everything I can to make it a day off once my chickens are slaughtered.

I can't tell you, though, what immense satisfaction it was to eat the first one.  It tasted delicious, simply exquisite.  We stuffed it and roasted it, then had roast chicken pickings in the fridge for days - many delicious meals from that chook.  We saved all the bones and Paula has cooked it into a stock, which I hope to start on tomorrow.  It was a glorious feeling of abundance, having that whole chook in the fridge, and it feels even more abundant to know that our freezer is slowly filling up with chickens.

I have had to simplify their food though.  I simply couldn't source and process enough free protein to keep up with what my chooks eat.  Here's my new, easier, but still highly nutritious recipe, from ingredients bought at the stockfeed store:

20kg sack of mixed grains (I get wheat, oats, milo, and corn)

5kg bag of meat meal or fish meal

1kg bag of seaweed

10 tablespoons of molasses (I bought a large bucket and am slowly working through it)

150ml cod liver oil (I bought a large bottle).

When I get home, I mix it all up, and keep it in a drum for the chickens.  I've bought 3 batches of the above so far, along with some other smaller homemade batches of my previous recipe.  I've got nine chooks left, and they are eight weeks old.  Five have been slaughtered so far.  I must point out that the above recipe does not constitute the cheapest way to feed chickens.  I've lost track, somewhat, of the costs involved in feeding them, but it's been expensive, to say the least.  I could definitely do it more economically, but a high priority for me is to make my meat ultra-nutritious, and I'd rather pay more for that.

Morning Smoke

This week I made candles. Jesse joined me and made his own. He's so very proud of his, he has it next to his bed and lights it each morning, (in fact, several times a day, as far as I can tell). Then he quickly blows it out so it doesn't burn down, and sits there enjoying the sweet scent of the smoke.

The other morning, he said to me, "I lit a match to make the morning smoke." I thought this was so fetching, I'd write it in my journal. Then I remembered Carla Sonheim suggested using sweet things kids say as titles for drawings. I started with a blind contour drawing of Jesse's candle and took it from there.

I remembered the facial expressions I'd learnt while drawing rabbits, and went for alert, concentrating and serious. I also remembered I'd vowed to try dirtier ink drawings, so added in lots of cross hatching and additional messy lines. Then I dirtied up the whole page using acrylic paints.

I'm rapt with how this turned out, especially because the whole piece is MINE without bits or styles directly copied from other artists. And like most of my pieces, I see that it's domestic in nature.

Twenty Rabbit Drawings

I tried another exercise in Drawing Lab: draw 20 cats from your imagination while sitting in bed. I drew rabbits instead, and I had so much fun with this. I learnt a lot too, especially about what eye and mouth shapes make what facial expressions. I like best the blobby shapes rather than clearly defined shapes. I rendered some of them with quite a bit of detail - pencil shading and polkadots. When I'd done them I didn't like them much. But when I came back later with fresh eyes they ended up being my favourites.

Blind contour portait

I'm so loving these contour drawings. This is a portrait of Kasper, who lives in our street, holding up one of my lil chooks.

Carla Sonheim suggestes writing with the left hand for more childlike text. I like it.

Chickens for meat update

You might want to skip this post if you are vegetarian or squeamish. I did it - slaughtered my very first chicken for meat. I'm not going to go into all the how-to details here - leave a comment if u want to know more, and I'll email you.

The main thing for me has been the emotional journey. Could I really raise a flock of adorably cute chicks, fall in love with them, spend hours watching their antics while tending to them several times a day, and then somehow kill them and still enjoy eating the meat? I desperately wanted the answer to be yes, because it's a way to make sure the animals I eat have the best possible life.

I chose two of the biggest roosters, but not the biggest healthiest one because I'm still hoping there's a chance I can raise my own chicks from eggs. I spared the little 'doomed' chicken that follows me around. I sequestered them in a small cage overnight, so they'd miss dinner and breaky (cleaner to slaughter if their guts and crop are empty). I felt a bit mean, but Paula pointed out that the hunger was the least of their problems.

Roderick came over to show me what to do. I was all business and determination - I refused to allow sentimentality to get in the way. Roderick did the first one, pulling its neck. But when I tried that, mine didn't die. I tried a couple more times but no go. Roderick held him on the chopping block for me, and I cleavered off its head - fast, calm and decisive.

Blood went EVERYWHERE - very gory. But somehow I remained steely-nerved. I stayed detached right through plucking and butchering, both of which were easier than I'd expected. Once the chickens were processed, they looked just like the ones you see in the shops, and weighed 1.1kg (size 11), which is small, but pretty amazing I think, for a chook that was only reared for 6 weeks. Also, with my no waste policy, I kept a bag with giblets and feet, which I'll use in stock. We plucked the feathers into a pot of soapy water - they are now zipped into a pillowcase, ready to be turned into a coat for winter.

Roderick told me the livers would be good fried with herbs. After he left, I was still in such sturdy shape emotionally, that I decided to eat the livers for lunch! Paula fried them for me in butter, garlic, and herbs (all home produced) and they tasted STUNNING. I remembered eating a chicken liver salad in France, which tasted like this, but when I tried to reproduce it at home with liver frpm the market, it tasted awful. Now I know the secret! I've got plenty more chicken liver delights coming up. I wonder if thr meat will be as amazing, too? The chickens are in the freezer now. We'll try one in a week or so.

So, it seems I CAN do it, and I can't tell you how relieved I am. I think it helps that I've been practising killing things. First I watched a rabbit slaughter in Italy, 2 yeas ago. I felt ill afterwards - nauseous and horrified. The next day I watched s chicken slaughter. I was much better prepared, but it still made me feel pretty queasy. Fast forward to this year: I went yabby fishing and cooked up my catch. I couldn't enjoy eating them though - all I could see on my mind as I chewed was the image of them archig away from the boiling water, and clutching my tongs. Yikes. A few months later, I killed 3 fish. It might not sound like a big deal, but to me, fish are as alive as chickens, and I really had to steel myself to do it. But I did, and ate the fish on the same day. I managed to enjoy the meals, and mentally was able to separate the kill from the food. Now, it seems the practise has stood me in good stead.

I did head upstairs for a big lie down after I'd eaten the livers. And at the end of the day, when I was feeding my 12 remaining chickens, there really did seem to be fewer in my flock - I felt a real pang of sadness, and a sense that my babies were incomplete: an urge to go searching for them.

I'm deeply grateful to Roderick for showing me what to do. This journey has been years in the making, as I've worked up to this point. He made it possible, and it feels like a major milestone. I reckon I'm confident now to go it solo next time. Just gotta buy a cleaver and sharpen it by next Thursday.

Blind contour drawings

I have borrowed a copy of Drawing Lab For Mixed Media Artists by Carla Sonheim and I'm in love!

First exercise I tried was blind contour drawings of my chickens. The idea is that you don't look at your page while the pen is moving. I was rapt with the way some of mine turned out, though the first few were pretty wonky.

I rendered some by adding watercolour.

One little chook is marked - he is destined to become dinner this week. He has a very sweet habit of following me and sitting at my feet. Poor little thing. I don't know if I'll be able to go through with it - maybe I'll pull out an anonymous unmarked chook for the pot instead. Anyway, I drew him as he sat at my feet. Doomed.

Meat Chickens update

Here's my meat chickens at 3 and a half weeks of age...

 
 

Developing my own Art Journal Style

 

I really love my art journal - it feels like my friend. At the end of the day, while the bath is running, I often do a quick page about my day. Sometimes at night in bed I do a page before I turn off the light. When I get a day off, I love to set up all my paints at the table and go for it for a few hours. I often go back then, and fix up pages I've done that week - adding colour and collage elements.

I'm always searching for more inspiration. I have a handful of favourite artists, and when I'm stuck (which is fairly often), I copy elements of their style in my journal.

I love the vintage style and colour palattes of Pam Garrison's work.

I've done page after page following Teesha Moore's journaling process.

I am inspired by the grids of symbols by Lisa Kaus. I've been working with grids since long before I discovered her work - but she really makes them look good.

I often leaf through my copy of 1000 Art Journal Pages and pick a style to try out.

The thing I've really been wondering though, is when I will develop my own journaling style. I try out the styles of other artists, become really inspired, and then suddenly I'm completely over it and move on, looking for my next inspiration fix. Other artists seem to develop their style, and their range of colour palettes, and make their own distinctive mark. What is mine?  Is there any style that could sustain me beyond a brief fad?

This week I read Corey Moortgat's The Art of Personal Imagery. She describes an exercise to help us identify symbols in our own work. I shifted her exercise ito help me search for my own journaling style as well as symbols. I looked through my current journal and bookmarked all the pages that I felt were truly MINE, not copied from another artist. I ignored the pages where it was mostly writing and I just added some colour/decoration later to make it look a bit better, because these pages didn't really resonate with me. I was very surprised to see what themes emerged with my bookmarked pages:

- Most of my pages were a kind of vision: black ink line drawings of scenarios I might one day create: an aquaponic fishpond, a simple life, an amazing garden, the projects I'll work on this summer... And almost all of the visions were domestic in content.

- My colours were mostly dirty - ochres and smudges of black with dusty greens.

- The pages I did when I was unhappy were by far the best - expressive and rich with colour in ways that I hadn't planned.

So I asked myself, how can I develop these themes into an art journaling style that is MINE and that appeals to me?

Here's my plan:

- Focus on dirty colours with lots of layers, to create more texture in my work. The pages with a lot of texture are the ones that appeal most to me, so I'll try to expand this. I've been creating colour palattes for myself: when I see a collection of colours I like well together, I save them in palatte format, and later deliberately use them in my work. Now I'll try to expand my colours to incorporate some of these new palattes in layers along with the ochres, blacks and greens.

- Continue creating pages that are a form of vision, often presented in a kind of grid. This style feels very natural to me, so I'll do it a little more deliberately.

- Look for and reuse the symbols that have been developing, and consciously make use of more symbols. Corey Moortgat uses lots of arches in her work, which I really love. Almost everything I've ever built or created with an architectural slant has gothic arches, but it hadn't occurred to me to use the gothic arch as a part of my journaling grids. I love it. Also I've been wanting to incorporate wings in my work for a while, but haven't found much context for them. However, right now they symbolise the changes that are happening in my life - the hope that I'll fly upwards to something new and wonderful.

- Learn to make more of my ink drawings - use water and paint brushes as well as my ink pen, to create dirtier and more textured lines and images.

Here's my first page, created with these ideas in my mind:

This page represents a snapshot of what's happening in my life right now. My home is at the centre of my heart, the basis from which everything else fans out. I think I'm so tired of touring that it's a major relief to be centred at home. The arch and wings symbolise the doorway and flight into my new life, as we've no tours for a looong time, thank god. The items in the grid represent my main projects at the moment: working on an outline for book three, raising chickens for meat, the upcoming book launch of Hatched, my angora rabbit, the flat I am in the middle of buying, preparing for Paula's birthday, homeschooling my son, and tending to my garden. The bust in the upper left corner represents me. I experimented with smudging some of my ink with a wet paintbrush before it dried, and I'm liking the heavy, smudgey look. Before I started this page, I used a pencil to jot down everything I wanted to include. Then I painted and drew over the top of that. But in some places the writing shows through and I like that.

I don't feel this page is "there" yet - but I'm liking what could be emerging. I like better the page at the top of this post, about finding my style. Again I wrote in pencil first about my discoveries, then painted and drew over the top to represent all I had learnt about my journaling style. The wings represent flying into new artistic territory.

And BTW, after about five years of failed efforts, I think I have FINALLY learnt how to use yellow in my work! The pale lemon yellow in both the pages here actually works. Wow.

What about you?  Do you keep a journal?  How do you stay inspired?  Do you have a style that is distinctly yours?  What are the signatures of it?

Alcoholic Apple Cider - Homebrew

I've been unveilling the mystery of making alcoholic apple cider versus apple cider vinegar. I left a batch of apple peelings fermenting in water and honey, intending them to turn to vinegar, went away on tour, and came back three weeks later to find I had a delicious alcolic cider - not sour at all. Sweet and warm from the alcohol. Yum! I immediately started a new batch, but strangely, this next batch turned sour really quickly, before it passed through that delicious alcoholic stage. Why?

Sandor Elix Kratz provided the answer in his fantastic book, Wild Fermentation. It seems that when you put a sweet, fruity liquid on the bench, wild microorganisms from the air get to work on it quickly to ferment it. Within a few days it's bubbly, and slightly alcoholic, thanks to the work of these microorganisms. At this stage, a different kind of microorganism is attracted to the brew - one that consumes the alcohol and remaining sugar and turns it into vinegar. If you want to make alcoholic mix, then you need to stop the vinegar-creating microorganisms from accessing your brew. You can do this by putting it in a bottle with a narrow neck (so there's not much air exposure at the top), and putting on a lid. As the alcohol microorganisms work, they create carbon dioxide (the stuff that makes it fizzy), and if this carbon dixioxide isn't released, the whole thing can explode. I can vouch for this personally - on my last tour I left something to ferment for more than a few days, and it exploded all over the hotel kitchen - yikes!

Anyway, now I know why my first batch of cider turned alcoholic, rather than to vinegar: before I left, I put a ziplock bag filled with water on top of my cider. I did this to keep the apple peelings immersed while I was away. Usually I stir every couple of days and that does the trick. If the apple is exposed for more than a couple of days, it tends to turn mouldy, which is not good. My ziplock bag obviously prevented air (and the vinegar-creating microorganisms in the air) from accessing my brew, but happily it still allowed the carbon dioxide to escape out the sides - when enough pressure built up, it pushed the bag out of the way, and the bag flopped back once the bubble had been released. I didn't repeat the bag arrangement though, because I lost half the brew as it floated above the bag and overflowed. That's why my next batch turned quickly to vinegar.

So.. how to make an alcoholic cider without losing half of it to my bag method? I simply put it in a plastic mineral water bottle with a narrow neck, and put the lid on. Several times a day, I loosen the lid enough for the carbon dioxide to escape, which it does with a little hiss, and then retighten the lid. This is called burping the bottle! You can do this with a plastic bag too. Simply put your brew into a plastic bag and secure it with a rubber band or drawstring. Every few hours, burp it - squeeze out the carbon dioxide but don't let any oxygen in. Another way is to put a balloon over the neck of the the bottle, instead of a lid. As the carbon dioxide is created, the ballon blows itself up. But you need to burp the balloon every now and then, so it doesn't pop.   

My burping plan was foiled when I woke up the other morning and realised that since I'm going away for a few days, I won't be able to burp my cider! I didn't want to risk it exploding, and I didn't want it to turn to vinegar. I did what the pros do: use an airlock. It's a little plastic tube that winds up and down, and can be secured to the top of your bottle. Water sits in the s-bend of the tube. When carbon dioxide is created, a little bubble of it flows through the water and pops out the top. But no oxygen can get in thanks to the water. An airlock is amazingly cheap - this one cost $3.

While I was at the homebrew shop, I also bought a bottle capper for $12, and a bag of bottle tops for $5. With this grand outlay, I can now recycle beer bottles by giving them a wash, filling them with my cider once it's suitably alcoholic, and tapping on a new cap. Right now the apples at the farmer's market (and in the dumpster we visit from time to time) are old: they've been in cold store all winter, and they are starting to turn. We've been rescuing them by peeling and coring them then stewing them. The peels and cores go into a bucket with water and honey, and that turns into cider. I hope to make a batch that will last us the summer, and store it all in beer bottles.

By the way, when I was at the homebrew shop, as soon as I mentioned apple cider, they rushed me over to their apple cider kits. where you buy some special yeast and other various formulated ingredients and follow a very precise recipe. I'm sure that works, but I love the simplicity of my method: making use of the wild microorganisms as they do their thing, putting some food scraps to good use, and ending up with a slightly different flavour for every batch. It's healthier too - those wild microorganisms are fantastic for our digestive tracts, and it's better for the environment to use them than some that have been packaged up and shipped to us from god-knows-where.

Recipe for Wild Alcoholic Apple Cider and Wild Apple Cider Vinegar

Put apple cores and peels into a bucket with water and enough honey to make it nice and sweet.
Put a plate on top to keep the apple pieces immersed, or stir it every two days instead.

After a few days it should be nice and bubbly. At this stage you can leave it in the bucket, stirring intermittently, until it turns into vinegar - this could take a few more days or a few weeks, depending on temperature. Alternatively, you can pour it into a bottle or bottles with a narrow neck, and utilise one of the following methods of burping it:
 - buy an airlock from a homebrew supplies place
 - put a balloon over the neck and burp it from time to time
 - screw on a tight fitting lid, and burp it frequently by loosening it briefly.

Taste it every now and then and start drinking when it tastes good. If you have any left when it no longer needs to be burped (not sure how long this takes - could be a few weeks), then you can pour it into screwtop bottles for drinking soon, or you can age it.

If you want to age it, put it into a clean beer bottle and affix a new cap. You can put in another teaspoon of honey at this stage, and I'm told that will make a nice fizz when the bottle is opened. Label and date your bottle and store it till you are ready to drink it. By the way, if you put this in a wine bottle and cork it, you run the risk of the cork popping out if more carbon dioxide is created. That's why you use the beer bottle and cap - they should be strong enough to withstand a bit of fizz.

When bottling it, there will be sediment sitting at the bottom of the vessel you used to ferment the brew in. Apparently if you siphon off the liquid into their bottles for aging, and leave the sediment behind, you get a finer flavoured cider once it's aged. But I was too meanfisted to shell out $16 for the siphon, so I'm drinking my sediment.

 

 

Chickens for meat update

Here's my chicks when they were two weeks old:





I took these photos just after I moved them out of the cardboard box, and into the wire framed rabbit cage. They had suddenly grown fatter overnight and looked like they could hardly stand up. While in the first week they scratched at the dirt and did nice chicken behaviours, suddenly it seemed they couldn't even stand on one leg to scratch. Their walk turned into an awkward waddle. I thought they'd need a bigger cage to make sure they got exercise and learnt to manouver their fat bodies around.

Unfortunately though, I think I moved them to the wire cage too soon. Being larger, it is also colder, even with blankets draped over it. They huddled together so tightly that two of the chickens got injured and died - trampled to death? I quickly moved the chicks to a wooden box instead, a bit larger than their original cardboard box. Since then, no more deaths, thank god. But I noticed that they tended to sit all day. If they were eating, they'd be eating sitting down. They'd only waddle the minimum distance they had to and collapse onto their bellies. I decided it was time for them to go outside.
 



For their first trip to the great outdoors, I put down a mini fence that is normally garden bed edging, and made sure I gave them a spot with both sun and shade. They were absolutely thrilled. Instead of sitting down, they all got to it, pecking around, exploring, testing out the plants and generally fossicking around.

After a few days of this, I was lifting them into the box to carry them back to the bathroom, when they suddenly worked out how to flutter their way out of the box. Clearly I was using a box that was too shallow. They were so happy, freeranging, that I let them go free for a few hours.



Today, they are three weeks old, I've let them go free in the garden all day, and guess what? They are doing all the things chickens should: standing on one leg to scratch, fluttering from one place to another, dust bathing, and pecking at everything... hooray! They seem very healthy. I think they were so bored in their cardboard box that they had nothing to stand up for.

For now they are hanging out in the box overnight, and I'll free range them in the garden during the day when I'm home.

They eat so much food I'm in shock. They whipped through my 5kg bag of starter crumble in the first ten days. The amount they eat increases every day. I've now worked out how to make my own food for them. It's more expensive and more work than starter crumble, but I'm sure it's far, far more nutritious.

Homemade starter crumble recipe:

4 cups grain, coarsely ground - I use a mix of wheat, corn, barley, oat grain - whatever I've bought cheaply in bulk.
1/4 cup flax seeds - I don't grind these as they go rancid quickly, and they are small enough for the chicks to peck whole.
1/4 cup seaweed - I collect my own from the beach, dry it in the sun for a few days, and grind it to a coarse powder. This provides minerals.
3 tsp salt - since I had washed the salt off my seaweed. If using unwashed seaweed, maybe just 2 tsp? Use unrefined salt to provide minerals.
2 tbsp cod liver oil - to provide vitamins A and D, and for general good health. I bought a big bottle of animal grade oil from a feed shop.
2 tbsp fat - I use the tallow that we scrape off the top of stock when we cook it.
1 tbsp molasses - provides vitamins.
1 cup protein - eggs, fish, meat....

Mix everything together and feed to the chicks.

Apart from the protein, I only had to buy the cod liver oil and flax seeds specially. These are both optional - I include them because I want the chooks to have optimum nutrition, and hence to provide very nutritious meat for me to eat. I buy grains and salt cheaply in bulk for my family, so it's no drama to feed some of our supply to the chooks. The protein, however, has been a bit more challenging, since I want to get it for free. I got some fish carcasses from the market, ground up the meatier bits in my food processor, and then dried them in my dehydrator. The result crumbled into fine "pellets" that mixed well with the rest of the feed. When that ran out, I fed them scrambled eggs fried up with greens from the garden. The fish shop will have more free fish for me tomorrow, but in the meantime I'm not sure what to do for protein. I've got a bucket of snails that I picked off the garden last night - maybe I can crush them? There's also worms in my worm farm - maybe I can pick out a handful for the chooks?

So far, at 3 weeks, the chicks have eaten their way through a 5kg bag of starter crumble, and 5 batches of the above homemade recipe. Yikes! I can see why eating a lot of meat is not good for the environment - they go through SO MUCH grain!

 

Garden planting dates for winter eating 2012

To stay on track with growing food, I jot down everything in my diary, on the date it needs to happen. I've just worked out all my planting details for the coming months, to make sure there'll be food to eat in winter. I'm often asked what to plant when, so here's a guide. It's relevant for Melbourne, Australia, only, and the dates given take into account moon planting as much as possible, though I had to fudge things a little to get things sown at the right time of each month. But if you are busy on the relevant dates, don't worry about getting them exact - just plant when you can around that time.

This planting guide will give you carrots, beets, cabbage, cauliflower, broccoli and lettuce to eat from April, right through winter and into early spring.

Nov 19-24: Prepare trays for sowing seed. Mix compost and/or worm castings with soil, and make sure you have a nice, fine, moist mixture. Make sure the trays are several inches deep. Put your trays in a sheltered spot where, ideally, they get some morning sun but are protected from hot summer afternoon sun. Up on a table is good, out of reach of snails and dogs. You might want some netting or shade cloth to protect from birds. Set up an easy method of watering - a watering can nearby, with an accessible tap? Or a hose with a gun nozzle that has a nice fine spray? Also organise a labelling system for your plants - a packet of icypole sticks and a permanent marker will do the job.

Dec 1, or 4-6: sow brassicas (broccoli, mini cabbage, mini cauliflower) to eat in April. Sow seed one inch apart.

Dec 14-15: sow brassicas to eat in May. Transplant April brassicas into a fresh, deeper tray, 2 inches apart. Sow them deeper, so that their first two leaves are at soil level. To transplant, use an ordinary kitchen knife. Cut a 1 inch square around the plant you are moving, and lift it out gently with the knife. Hold the clump of dirt/roots in your hand, and insert the knife into the new tray. Pull it towards you, opening a hole. Lower the seedling into the hole, and use the knife to scrape a bit of soil around the roots.

Dec 18-21: Prepare some more trays for seed. Each new seed needs to go into a fresh tray that has lightly aerated soil, and is comprised of at least 1/3rd fresh compost or worm castings. Prepare a garden bed for the April brassicas, and one for the carrots and beets. Dig it to a depth of 24 inches (twice the length of a garden fork), spread over an inch or two of compost, and water very well. If the ground is hard, water well the day before you dig. Spread some mulch over the top.

Jan 1-2: Plant out April brassicas in their garden bed, 30cm apart. If you like, sprinkle some lettuce seed at one end of the bed. Transplant May brassicas into second tray. Sow brassicas to eat in June.

Jan 10-11: sow heaps of carrots and beets in seed trays. Sow the beets 1 inch apart. Sprinkle carrot seed thinly over a section of your tray and sprinkle a tiny bit more soil over the top. You'll be able to start harvesting them around April or May, and over winter they'll gradually fatten up. You'll need to finish them off before they go to seed next spring.

Jan 16-22: Prepare more seed trays. Prepare garden beds for May, June and July brassicas.

Jan 23-24: Plant out May brassicas in their garden bed, 30cm apart. Sprinkle some lettuce seed if desired. Transplant June brassicas to second tray. Sow brassicas to eat in July and August.

Jan 28-29: Transplant beets to garden bed, 10cm apart. Transplant carrots 7cm apart - they will be very small seedlings so handle them gently, and protect them from animals, snails and hot sun.

Feb 7-8: Plant June brassicas into the garden bed. Sprinkle lettuce seed if desired. Sow September brassicas. Transplant July and August brassicas to second tray.

Feb 24-26: Transplant July and August brassicas to garden bed. Transplant September brassicas to second tray.

Mar 15-23: Prepare garden bed for September brassicas.

March 24: Transplant September brassicas to garden bed.

Keep everything well watered - about 9 litres of water per square metre, most days (every day if it's hot, and twice a day if it's scorching). If you're not sure, poke your finger into the soil and check it's moist. During a heat wave, take your trays of seedlings indoors to protect them. Go out a few times during the day and spray your garden beds with water - it won't burn the plants, and they'll appreciate the cooling off. Before it gets really hot, pile some straw gently around and right over the top of young plants that are inthe garden. Go back at night and uncover them so they don't suffocate. This will protect them from the worst of the heat.

You'll need to work out how many of each plant you have space for, and plant accordingly. Even if it's just a cabbage or two a month, you'll be rapt when they are ready. Always sow twice as much seed as what you need - many seeds don't germinate, and sometimes you'll plant out, only to have some critter gobble up your seedling. In that case, it's good to have some spares on hand to replace them with. Once you know your seedlings are established, give away any extras you don't have space for. Or plant them into unlikely spots in the garden just in case they manage to flourish there afterall.

Happy growing, everyone!

What we're eating from the garden in November

I'm so excited about today's harvest.

I planted 3 varieties of zucchini, and the first of each is ready today. We'll do a taste test for dinner to see which variety is the winner, if any.

Just one asparagus but I know it'll be stunningly sweet and juicy - it came from the best plant.

Plenty of broadbeans, though we always want more.

But we've plenty of food to eat at the moment - lots of cabbages especially. Just a small one today but I rescued it from the snails. Pulled a few more carrots - we've heaps coming up and are taking it a few at a time.

There's a handful of spinach. Ours is going to seed now but some of it is still soft enough to eat and I'm raiding it as much as possible to make it last.

There's also a handful of shallots. I thought the bulbs were meant to be bigger than that, but these are already starting to seed so I've pulled them. I had to pull a few a week ago too, and already the bulbs are a fair bit fatter than last time. I'm hoping the rest make it through to being nice and fat before going to seed.

I ran out of space in my harvest basket, apron pocket and berry bowl, but there were still raspberries to pick. I did find the perfect vessel though: my mouth! I ate my fill of raspberries. I can't tell you what a luxury it is to have so many I can simply stuff myself without holding back. Wow! Our favourite family ritual at the moment is to take a bowl of homemade icecream out into the food forest after dinner. Then we top it with berries straight from the bushes and sit in the forest to eat. Exquisite. But Paula and Jesse are out tonight and it's just me. There'll be plenty more raspberries in a couple of days though so no need for restraint.

Hello.

(Again).  I've just done a nice little revamp of this blog, and wanted to point you to some new things.  

My favourite is a new page I've created, How to really grow food in your  backyard.  I've compiled three years of gardening experiments into a single detailed page that gives all the info you need to produce a serious amount of food for your family.  You can find this page on my sidebar.

I've also updated my About page - I'm shocked to realise it was over two years old.  Oops!

And I've got a new photo.  I think the old one was about seven years old.  Yikes.  Paula snapped this one of me at the Anglesea beach this winter - a place that always makes me feel introspective and connected with nature.

My chickens are one and a half weeks old and already they are twice the size they were last week.  I can't believe how much they eat, and I'm frantically trying to work out how to make them some really healthy baby food.  I consider 'starter crumble', which I buy from the shop, as being a bit like dried breakfast cereal - I'm sure it's not very good for you.  (And hence won't be so good for me either, when I eat the chickens.)

The most thrilling news of my week is this: my book series is going to be translated into Finnish language and published in Finland!  I simply cannot WAIT to hold a copy with all those gorgeous Finnish words in it:

       Martha Grimstone pitää hänen salaisuutensa turvallinen välillä kaksi palaa pahvista.

Google translate tells me this is the Finnish translation for "Martha Grimstone keeps her secrets safe between two pieces of cardboard.  It's probably a rather inaccurate translation, but I'm not fussed.  I'm in love with all those ummlas and double vowels and words like välillä.

And my favourite website for this week is: Lost At E Minor.  A great source of inspiration.

 

 

 

 

Raising chickens for meat

Yesterday my chickens arrived! They are a special meat breed of bird which apparently fatten quickly and make delicious eating. I was vegetarian for 20 years, but in the last couple of years I've started to eat meat again for health reasons. I've never had anything against people eating meat, though I've always thought it would be most ethical to raise the animals yourself, and probably kill them too. Since I started eating meat, I've been trying to gird myself to actually live according to my principles, and raise my own meat.

There are other reasons why I believe it's good to raise our own meat. The meat industry can be pretty cruel. I only eat meat from local farms where I'm pretty satisfied that they raise their animals well and kill them humanely. But even so, surely I can give them a better life in a suburban backyard than when they are raised on a commercial scale. Afterall, our home-produced eggs are so much better than the most expensive organic free range eggs we can buy. Like the eggs, I'd expect the meat to be more nutritious - though who can really know. Also I am concerned about the amount of wastage that occurs. Despite repeated requests, I've never been able to obtain chicken heads or feet for soup. What happens to them all? Are they chucked out? Recently, watching a fisherman fillet a fish, and waste all but the very best bits of it, I realised that it's probably the same in the meat industry. We are in the habit of eating the muscle meat but not the organs (though they are very good for us), and in our society it's rare to make stock from bones these days.

I also want to really understand how much food I can produce in my backyard. I already produce 80% of my family's fruit and vegies. Could I produce a good portion of our meat onsite too? I'd like to find out.

I am probably in for quite a journey, emotionally. The chicks that arrived yesterday are adorable. They are so cute I've already sat for ages, watching and watching them. To think that one day I'm going to kill them, with my bare hands, is quite astonishing. Somehow I'm going to have to gird my loins, toughen my heart and do it. I'm curious to see how I emerge on the other side of this.



In case you would like to consider raising your own chickens for the table, here's the practicalities.

I bought the chickens from a hatchery in Queensland, Australia: Peak Poultry Supplies. They cost $2 per day old chick, plus $30 for shipping (up to 100 birds in a carton). I would have liked to buy them locally, but despite researching for two years I've been unable to find a farmer in Victoria who will sell me meat chicks. If you know of any avenues for me to research with this, please tell me! I'm still looking, for my next batch.

I bought starter crumble for their food, though I'm hoping once they are a little older I can mostly feed them worms, insects and greens from my garden. Ultimately I would like to make my own food for them from day one, but I haven't found enough information to do this yet. I also bought a small feeder and waterer. I picked these up from a stock feed shop, where they were a fraction of the price they go for in pet shops. In an op shop I found an adjustable lamp, and I bought a 60 watt globe from the hardware.

For now I'm keeping them in a cardboard box. I lined the bottom with several layers of newspaper and a bag of well rotted sawdust I had lying around. When the sawdust has run out, I'll put dirt on the bottom. I'll compost all the litter when it's too dirty for the chickens to use any more. As they grow, I'll move them to my rabbit cage, which is bigger, and then I hope to put them in with my egg-laying chooks.

I've put the lamp quite low over their box, and in the coming weeks I'll gradually raise it. If the chicks are too cold, they'll huddle tightly together under the lamp. If they're too hot they'll fan out away from it. I'll use their behaviour to tell me how high to put the lamp.

All up it's costing me $6.40 per bird, though if I do this again it will be much cheaper since I'll already have the lamp, waterer, feeder etc, and maybe by then I'll be able to make my own food too.

With meat breeds of birds, because they fatten so fast, when they get to a certain age (weight), their legs may be too weak to hold them up, and they could break. In the industry they are slaughtered just before this happens - its cruel to have a chook live with broken legs. Thus the birds need to be slaughtered promptly at 6-8 weeks of age. My friend Roderick, who is joining me on this mission, and will show me how to kill the birds, tells me that home-reared chooks are much healthier and less prone to this problem - hence you can wait longer before slaughtering.  

Other people I've mentioned this to say I should get a breed of birds that aren't specifically for meat, so that I don't participate in this cruelty. However, regular chickens can take 4 months to be fat enough for the table, which means you need to feed them a LOT more grain, a serious negative, both financially and for the environment. Because of my touring, I've decided to go with meat breeds so I can do it as a quick project. However, I'm hoping Roderick is right, because then I can start slaughtering at 6 weeks, doing two birds at a time (one for the table, one for the freezer), and really spread the killings over a longer period. That way we aren't clogging up our freezer, and we can plan on eating, say, a bird a week.

If the birds are healthy, maybe we can even raise a breeding pair to egg laying age, get some fertile eggs, and then I can raise my next batch without needing to order from Queensland. Fingers crossed. Though I'm not very optimistic about this plan - I think a rooster crowing at 5am might do permanent damage to our relationship with our neighbours.

Well.. I'll keep you posted. Wish me luck! And feel free to send me your favourite chicken recipes.