I see you shiver
So yeah, as it turns out, right after I finished my last entry and went out to clean the chicken coop, I found something in Smallville that doesn’t make me insanely happy. This thing just mostly makes me insane.
I got all the bedding out first with a bent pitchfork, pulling the poopy litter towards me out the door and onto a tarp I had spread out to catch it. Each time the tarp filled, I pulled the four corners together to create a really big hobo pack, then loaded it onto our wagon and pulled it out to the leaf/grass pile that I’ve been intending to turn into a compost heap someday. I didn’t bother wearing gloves because, well, I knew I was capable enough to pull the used bedding out without touching it.
I’m gifted that way.
Once the bedding was done I went around to the back of the coop and raised up the flap hiding the nesting boxes. Those are filled with straw, and though the chickens do like to go in them at night, they don’t poop a whole lot in there. It’s almost as if they understand what they’re for.
Right.
Every day after I’ve let the chickens out into the yard, at least one of them can’t figure out how to get back in the pen and ends up behind the open gate, running back and forth in a panic and squawking at the other chickens because she can’t figure out to walk around the end of the gate. There’s a reason we use the word “birdbrain” to describe a less-than-intelligent person.
But I digress.
I pulled the straw out of the box—again with my bare hands—then swiped around the bottom quickly to pick up the stray clumps.
When I saw what was there under the straw I’d been rooting my hand around in, the joy just sucked right out of me:
Latrodectus mactans: the bitch.
Words cannot convey how much I hate these things.
To my credit, I didn’t scream and flail and run around the chicken yard like a chicken with its, well, you know, but I wanted to. Instead, I just paused for a small shiver of revulsion and reflected on the time when I was a kid and one of those went skittering across my hand and up my arm.
Then I went and got a stick so I could take it out for better pictures.
Obviously I need a new camera, so I can get better pictures than this.
I was about to kill the widow when I remembered then inevitable how do you know that was really a black widow, Fred? I’d be hearing unless I offered absolute proof. I’ve been known to mislabel snakes before, true enough, but I don’t think it’s possible to mistake a black widow. At least not here in the southeast; there may be lookalikes elsewhere. No other spider around here is fat, shiny, jet-black, and looks like evil personified. They’re that distinct.
But, here’s the capper:
The telltale mark
Reckon I’ll wear gloves next time.
Oh, and here’s what the coop looked like when I finished:
Finding that in the nesting box certainly doesn’t make me look forward to fetching wood from the woodshed this winter. Black widows LOVE to hide in piles of wood and underneath things, where they can stay out of sight and scare the bejeebers out of froofs like me who are scared of them.
As I mentioned last time, our hens turned eighteen weeks old this past Monday. For the last week, several times a day I’ve schlepped my way out to the coop, filled with an anticipation so strong it’s nearly palpable.
I crawl inside and root around in the pine shavings and poop; I open the back hatch and check all the nesting boxes, cleaning out any poop I find; I get on my hands and knees (mindful of the poop that seems to be everywhere) and peer intently into the spidery darkness underneath, where the girls like to cluster in the heat of the day.
No eggs yet.
I check all around the pen, looking by the food and water, in any weed clumps, and in all the corners by the fence posts. Nothing. I go out into the yard in the evenings, because I let them out for a few hours after work, and I look in all their favorite spots: by the old cedar stump where they bathe in the dust, in the cast-iron pot that belonged to my great-great-great grandmother which now holds the remnants of some iris my father gave me (remnants because the girls have uprooted most of it so they can sit in the potting soil), in each of the patio chairs where they like to leave me presents of a different sort to sit in, over behind the air conditioners where they gather to gossip about all the damn cats.
No eggs yet.
It’s like they’re taunting me with every cluck, every squawk, and every excited cackle. I hear them making a ruckus and race outside thinking this is it, this is the time I’ll find my first egg because I read that they like to trumpet it to the world when they’ve laid one. But when I get out there I find that they’re just arguing or fighting over a bug or scrap of tomato.
Or stuck behind the open gate.
The anticipation is killing me.
“I’m going to can all day today,” Robyn said to me yesterday morning. “Go out there and pick everything.”
My pleasure. [insert evil grin here]
I think she ended up canning and freezing stuff from about 9:30 until 6:30. I’m really starting to think there’s no way we can eat everything we’re putting back.
Someone didn’t know I had the camera.
Our puny cukes (which also have some squash bugs) don’t produce a lot,
but it’s more than we can eat. These all went to pickles.
One of the biggest yields of okra yet. For reference, the pitcher in the back is a gallon.
A mess of black-eyed peas. As the official sheller, I’m about ready to buy an electric one.
She froze six bags from this. If you’re unfamiliar with the awesomeness that is
black-eyed peas (they’re a southern thing), you don’t know what you’re missing.
This became three pints of pickled jalapeno slices, perfect for nachos.
Another insane amount of green beans. We get this 2 or 3 times a week.
And that second row (now blooming) hasn’t even started yet.
There is no way possible for us to eat all the beans we’re going to have.
Miss Mama loves nothing more than to lay in the shrubbery and snooze all day.
I started our official compost heap yesterday by pulling as much of the uprooted corn and squash plants off the burn pile as I could. Next, I got a few loads of leaves and chicken bedding from the pile off at the perimeter of the property and added them to the mix. Finally, I went to the other side of the property and got a load of already-decomposing weeds I’d pulled from the garden.
I piled everything in the back forty in full sun, right where the original burn pile the original owners started was:
Then, I started thinking maybe I should go read up on compost heaps instead of flying by the seat of my pants, so I came inside and read a few things. Notably, I read that heaps shouldn’t be in full sun because they’ll dry out too quickly. Also, the fancy-schmancy page I was reading had a “recipe” for good compost, but Jesus Christ, who has time for that kind of effort? The big pile of leaves was just dumped there and forgotten, and it’s turning into some lovely stuff that’s dark and rich and looks like potting soil. It did that without a “recipe.”
I went back out, climbed on the tractor, and pushed the compost heap over closer to one of the giant oak trees. Now, it’ll get full sun until about 2:00, then it’ll be in shade.
The other main thing a compost heap needs is water to start the decomposition process. But how to get enough water for a eight-foot-wide and three-foot-high pile of pre-compost?
With Bertha, that’s how.
Side note: I can only imagine what the traffic going by thought of me taking that picture. The bucket of the loader was about seven feet off the ground, so to take that shot from above I had to climb out onto the lift arm and position myself in a pose that looked like I was trying to sex up the arm. Come to think of it, the thrum of the engine felt pretty good.
These are the things I go through to share my life with you.
Once I’d gotten the water I drove it out to the compost heap, sloshing it every which way, and dumped it:
Bigger version, because I think the shot
through the water is cool.
I continue to believe that the tractor is the greatest thing ever invented.
Hopefully we’ll get some good compost out of this.
A cool-looking storm came through yesterday afternoon.
Frick sure manages to look dorky.
They sure look like they want to lay eggs, don’t they?
Finally, some proof of my previous comment that I don’t think we’ll be able to eat everything we’ve put away for the winter:
The mantel is full.
And the floor is filling up. To answer your question: tomatoes, ripening.
The table we no longer eat at usually holds the most recently canned stuff.
We had to buy a bigger freezer because our little chest freezer wasn’t cutting it.
Know what’s cool? Often, when I go to the corner grocery for ice, the owners (especially the wife) comment on how nice we’re making our property look. Especially the back forty, which was a chest-high jungle under the care of the previous owners but now looks like a big expanse of lawn.
Makes me feel like we’re adding to the community when they say things like that.
Are you trying to kill Robyn with all that canning? You could always turn the Spud’s room into Cannery Row!
You better start checking your bed at night before you hop in. Robyn might stick one of those fugly spiders in your bed if you keep picking all those damn vegetables to be canned! heh!
I had a similar encounter with a black widow except mine featured her hanging from a single string of web and about to pounce on my shoulder as I sat on the couch! One of my cats was on the floor in front of me with the weirdest look on her face and it occurred to me that she was looking -past- me. I very gingerly turned my head and upon seeing the black I nearly hurt myself getting away from it. Amazingly it remained exactly where it was! Then the question was how do I kill it? I was afraid that simply using a flyswatter wasn’t going to be enough. If I remember correctly I had some hornet spray, the kind that features a high density spray so that you can use it from a safe distance so I got it and from about three feet away gave her a good spray. I swear to God it hissed at me! Then in just another second or two it succumbed and died.
ms7168 - I would most likely die of a heart attack if I found one in the house.
I meant to mention this in the entry and forgot — I was scared shitless that the spider was going to jump on me while I was taking those two pictures of it on the stick. Black widows are agressive, but I don’t think they’re jumpers.
We have plenty of black widows here in California. A couple years ago we had our kitchen completely gutted for a remodel, and when the workers took the wall paneling down, there were widows living inside the walls! Ugh! I couldn’t believe it! I’m still trying to figure out what the hell they could possibly be preying on back there. Even worse, I have no doubt there are more in the rest of the house … at least they’re not aggressive. You just have to be really careful not to reach into dark places bare-handed.
Ugh… that spider scared the crap out of me and it’s just the picture. What is it with spiders that just makes them repulsive? Snakes, lizards, most other creepy crawlies - fine. Spiders - ick.
Don’t ever move to NV. You will see one of those “beauties” on a daily basis there, if not more often. Some places have ticks, others fleas, the sw has black widows.
I am jealous of your garden because living in the northeast we have a very short growing season.. but we also have almost no black widow or brown recluse spiders here… they can’t survive our cold winters! Thank ya Jeezus! While the rare one is found, it is a real oddity… usually reported in the news paper… and usually found in something transported from a warmer climate.
Come on girls… lay already! We’re all waiting!
Stupid question: What if the black widow bites one of the hens?
I was almost scared to read this entry because I thought you were going to find a snake in the hen house (and you will someday). I don’t care for spider,,but snakes,,,,omg I have a small coronary just looking at a picture of a snake.
Have y’all, are y’all going to make chow chow? Homemade chow chow is the best!
Hey Fred–
I don’t know if you wear a mask when you scoop out the chicken coop—but you may want to add that to your list of safety things—Histoplasmosis can lurk where there are large amounts of bird droppings (less for chickens than let’s say pigeons, etc….)—we just had a patient who went to sweep out an old barn and came down with the mysterious flu-like symptoms.
Is Frick the only male chicken? Didn’t you say you thought he was maybe a she? If so, how do you know if you have a male chicken? If you don’t you’re not going to get any eggs. I’m sorry if this sounds like the dumbest comment ever, I was just really curious.
Maggie: good question. I wondered that myself. I suspect the chickens would eat it before it bit one, but I’ve no idea what would happen.
Cindie: I’ve seen chow chow but never actually tried it. Is it just a side dish, or topping for something, or what?
Clarise: Yes indeed. My dad had histoplasmosis before I was born, and has lectured me extensively on the necessity of wearing a mask when cleaning the coop.
Paula: you can tell the males often by the feathers, but definitely by the spurs, the crowing, and the attempts to sex up the other chickens. Frick’s exhibiting none of that yet. And eggs — yes, you get them without a rooster. Eggs are just chicken menstruation. Yum yum. If you want FERTILIZED eggs, and chickies, you need a rooster.
after looking at your freezer filling up I was wondering if have your own generator in case the power goes out…
Stupid question; would a chicken EAT a black widow spider?
Sammi
For the record, a black widow WILL jump! I had a horrible experience at my parent’s camp one summer and have been completely terrified of all spiders since. I picked up some stuff that had been stacked outside the camper for a while and disturbed her nest. It jumped at me and I ran screaming. I think what actually completely terrified me was my dad’s reaction. When he saw the widow, he panicked. He killed it and then just kept checking me over and over for bites. I was fairly young at the time, so he was really worried about what a bite on a small-ish kid would do.
Anyway, all I really remember is large black spider, but my dad is an avid outdoorsman, so I’m sure he knew what he was looking at and it most certainly jumped!
Sammi: it seems that chickens will eat most anything, so it wouldn’t surprise me to see them eat a black widow.
Angela: the first widow I encountered as an adult was back at our first house. It had build a web inside a grill cover I’d left laying on the patio for like a month. She had time to lay eggs, and every time I’d lift the cover up she’d run right at my hand, rolling the egg sac under her to keep it protected. I’ve no doubt they can and will jump to attack a threat. They’re far and away the most aggressive spiders I’ve ever seen. Every other spider I encounter runs away.
Fred, you ALWAYS put up everything you can since you never know if you’ll have a crop fail next year. (You are fortunate to have a long growing season so you may have time for a second crop. Not so up here in Zone 3/4. You get one chance.) Even if you don’t eat it this year, canned stuff lasts just about forever. And an investment in a generator might be a good thing. I know someone who cans or dries everything because she was in an extended power outage and lost the entire contents of the freezer.
If you are interested in composting, you may want to start with Alabama’s own — Captain Compost — http://www.captaincompostalabama.com The Captain also posts on a forum called DirtDoctor.com. He is an interesting guy that lives around Birmingham. I have caught his presentation several times at the Birmingham Botanical Gardens and local nursery events. Living in the country and owning a chicken coop will be the only “recipe” you will need - except water. The rewards will show in your produce next summer. Have fun!
Hi Fred,
I’m delurking to suggest an option of using bug spray in and around the firewood pile. Of course it may be prohibitive because of the kitties and chickens.
Bug spray should be effective in minimizing insect population. In Tampa, Fla; Glendale, Ariz; and Huntsville, Ala., Hubby applied bug spray on wood piles and it seemed to be effective keeping spiders, ants, etc., at bay.
I’m sure you know enough to keep wood piles away from the house because of the potential for termite infestation.
I enjoy reading your journal, as well as Robyn’s. Happy veggie canning and eating.
That spider looks just like the Australian red back spider. You just don’t sit on outdoor furniture here without looking it over first. Red backs love our letter box too. Ugh, I hate the damn things.
I love your chicken photos. Hope they start laying soon!
I hope you killed the bitch (the widow that is). And wear gloves in the future!
You are too smug Fred, all that glorious produce. Poor Robyn a slave to the kitchen, poor dear
Looks like you are living the good life. This former hobby farm kid is completely envious. Keep on telling us how it is!
Frick’s vent needs an inspection. Turn him/her over and gently open his vent(poophole)and if you see a small projection-like organ than it’s a boy. Sometimes a rooster is indeed needed to coerce hens’ hormones into first-time egg production. Phermones,baby. Maybe if you flirt and talk real sweet to the ladies they’ll lay for you Fred.
Our hotwater heater closet is accessed by an outside door.Unfortunately I didn’t notice the spindly,horribly made webs and dead husbands,a telltale sign of the black widow spider,until my arms were firmly wedged under the hotwater heater,lying on my belly,helpless as a beached,newborn seal pup. The lady darted out of hiding,scurried past me and luckily dove between the deck boards.I was however,certain that she would return to bite me before I was able to relight the pilot light. She’s still out there…
rundmc: I can honestly say that the only time one of my chicken’s vents will ever get an inspection is if I think her (his?) life depends on it. And even then, I’ll have to debate just putting him (her?) in the stewpot first.
Amy: the hobby farm life reached a new low yesterday with a purchase I made at Tractor Supply. I’m so embarrassed I don’t even know if I’ll be able to write about it.
Arizona Robin: I thought about spraying the wood pile, but figured it would be bad for us when it cam time to burn the wood. I figured all sorts of chemicals would be released, and all that. The wood shed is about 100 feet from the house. The wood is stacked on treated lumber planks which are held above a layer of 5-mil vapor barrier covering the ground by 2-inch concrete blocks. Hopefully that’ll keep the termites at bay.
Jeebus. I about fell out of my chair when I saw that spider pic.
As much as I would love to live in the country, I don’t know if I could handle all the weird bugs.
Hey Fred! If you’re having trouble eating all of your canned stuff, I’d be happy to take some off your hands. Maybe you guys could do some sort of give-away or contest? I bet plenty of readers would LOVE to share some of your fresh canned veggies!
Fred, I have to admit that thinking eggs were a chicken fetus up until this point was somehow less disturbing than you pointing out that I’m really eating, more or less, cooked chicken tampons. Fabulous.
what are you going to do if the eggs taste too “chickeny”?
Fred, do you think Second Harvest can take your extra green beans?
Lisa: You get used to the bugs. Mostly.
Laura: We’ve talked about it, believe it or not.
Paula: At least they’re cooked…
Sasha: Eat the chickens, maybe, or change their diet.
Denise: I dunno, I expect I may try selling them at work. My wife’s the altruist, I want a buck for my sweat.
Geeze that spider pic FREAKED ME OUT.
Growing up I was the green-bean-snapper and black-eyed-pea-sheller…my advice is do it while you are watching TV - goes by a lot faster. I didn’t even KNOW they had some sorta contraption to *do* that…odd.
As far as Chow Chow, it’s a sweet relish-type thing that you (err Robyn) make and can - it’s VERY good over a big bowl of blackeyed peas and rice or pinto beans and rice. YUM.
I put Chow Chow on my hotdogs, it’s relish!
And your spider pic really, really gave me the chills. Awful.
Damn,forgot to tell you a non-toxic and cheap way to trap spiders is to use those small mouse glue traps.I’d glue them upside down or vertically in the spider’s area.Try to position them so other innocent critters don’t get stuck.
Once I caught a mouse and set the glue trap outside to deal with in the morning. When I opened the door,the trap was gone. Later,on a different part of the property,I found the trap with many glossy black feathers stuck to it. That poor crow must have suffered greatly trying to get that damn trap off of him.
1. Hypothesis: Frick is the ONLY female. heh.
2. I was going to ask if you guys would consider selling and shipping some of your wares, but a contest would be funner and, therefore, better. Would we have to know anything?
3. While I do kill the occasional suspected brown recluse (in GA), um… the rest of my spiders I admire and even feed. I have tons of horrible milipedes in my apartment - perfect spider fodder. I was extremely afraid of spiders when I was little, but I’ve mellowed considerably. For the larger arachnids I have a strict catch-and-release policy (using a clear jar and a stiff sheet of paper to slide under). Little guys (gals?) can hang wherever they like. One time I felt really bad - almost sad - because I tried to shoo a mama wolf spider out of my house - yes, with all her babies on her back - and in the morning I found out that she was in the door jamb and I had shut it on her. Le sigh. Where I live now, some of those nice, fat orangey-pinky spiders spin webs on my porch, which I love until the one comes who covers the entryway a bit too much. That’s the one I have to train not to build there. So, yeah… housing, feeding, training… I treat most of them like pets. All except the cuddling. ahem.
4. You have to tell the Tractor Supply story, Fred. You just have to.
Frad, Chow Chow is a favorite food in my neck of the woods and tastes excellent on beans with cornbread on the side. ( I like homemade fried potatoes with this meal-yum!) Just cook a big ole’ pot of beans and top with chow chow. My mom , sister and I made homemade chow chow years ago from a recipe my grandmother had. All I can recall is cabbage, green tomoatoes, onions and different spices. Chow chow can be really sweet or spiced up to be hot. Every year at the arts and crafts show I search for the vendor who sells homemade chow chow!
Oops..I mean FrEd.
Used to live in Texas as a kid (went camping too) so I’m not a stranger to black widows. Funnily enough, the first time I ever had to deal with one, was living in an apartment in Calif. and I walked into my room mate’s bedroom - there was one sitting just near her head, in a web, with an egg-sac. I got a glass and trapped her, let her go outside. The egg-sac got flushed (with lots of soap).
Now I’m living in England, I have to deal with the BIG hairy brown house spiders. Most spiders will run if you flick your hands - not these. They run AT you - and at 6″+ across (with legs), that’s pretty frightening. But even so, I can’t kill them, as they’re my bug killers and they come out during the summer nights to find mates. Plus it’s a family -thing- that spiders in a house are lucky and you do NOT kill them.
I recently read that green tomatoes can be sliced and canned. That would mean that fried green
tomatoes can be enjoyed year-round. Tempting?
Green tomato pickle is also wonderful, as is green tomato mincemeat.
About the chickens: They will begin laying just about when you’ve started giving up on it
ever happening. But once they all start, you’ll have enough eggs (during the summer) to make
breakfast for a large and hungry football team. Hens need about 14 hours of daylight in order
to lay as much as we like them to; that’s why the output declines dramatically in winter and
why the big egg farms have lights in the chicken houses. (I’m imagining a farmer arguing with
the ATF agents, “But Officers, I’m only buying the Gro-Lights for my chickens!”)
That spider IS evil incarnate. *shudder* At least black widow spiders don’t jump like those damn wolf spiders living in my basement. They like to leap at me when I go down there to do laundry and then chuckle evilly over how they scare me. Bastards.
Your black-eyed peas look delicious! Most groceries up here don’t carry fresh black-eyed peas, unfortunately–just one more reason why I need to move back South.
Black widows are like the only thing that i really have a phobia of! I swear it’s like they are attracted to me! I’ve had one crawl up my pant leg, i woke up one time and one was about two inches in front of my face, me and my friend were picking up chairs and the biggest one i’ve seen in my life landed on my arm and strung a web to the ground, and finally to top it all off i had a black widow in my shoe one time and not even realizing it i stuck my foot in. Luckily i had on thick socks which probably is the reason I still have my foot! The crazy thing is these have all happened at different houses in different states so it’s not like i was living in a black widow infested area!