Winterizing Beehives

A few weeks ago we began winterizing our beehives. We started by wrapping the bee yard with heavy plastic. The arbor-like structure around the bee yard is multi-purpose. In the summer we hang awnings to provide shade for the hives; in the winter we wrap the lower sections to provide a wind break.

Next, we wrap each top bar hive individually. We make an insulation blanket out of large plastic bags filled with 4" fiberglass insulation. We wrap the blankets carefully around the hive box and cover it with tar paper. It's cinched down with nylon web straps. We also secure the box to the ground with more nylon straps and hurricane anchors. It seems excessive in the calm of November, but we might be glad for it during a January blizzard.

Each of our top bar hives has six entrance holes on the small east-facing end of the hive. As the weather gets cooler and the bees less active, it's a good idea to close up some of the entrances to reduce cold air flow.

Evidently, the bees in my blue hive thought I was too slow in closing up entrances. They decided to solve this problem themselves by filling in all three top entrance holes with propolis, their own special bee glue.

The three lower entrance holes on that hive are partially closed. They left a little room to exit and enter. I guess I won't mess with their system since they seem to have it worked out. I'll be curious to see if they open all six holes in the spring. And if they don't, should I do anything about it?

We're optimistic about our hives this winter. In spite of various summer challenges, all three hives seem to have plenty of honey stored and they appear healthy and strong. Now we wait out the winter and hope for the best.

Talkin' Turkey

Years ago, my mother-in-law would roast wild game for Thanksgiving dinner. Each year was a little different---wild goose, turkey, or pheasant---depending on what my father-in-law had successfully hunted that fall. I suspect this is how our forbears celebrated Thanksgiving, serving whatever had been harvested.

Each year, millions of turkeys are raised in industrial conditions for consumption at the holidays. The birds have been bred for extra large breasts, so large that they may not even be able to stand up. They are grown quickly in very crowded conditions, and fed genetically modified corn and soy products. Not surprisingly, they don't taste anything like wild game or pasture raised birds.

Last year we decided to support a local turkey farmer. We placed an order for a pastured raised heritage breed turkey, and I drove 20 miles to the small market to pick up the bird. I seem to recall that it cost five or six dollars a pound, so even a small turkey was a hefty $50. The flavor was pretty fabulous.

This year we're hosting a larger crowd and we simply can't afford to purchase a heritage breed turkey large enough for the family. But I also couldn't bring myself to buy an industrial bird. We found a compromise at the local grocery store---a frozen turkey grown by an organic farm cooperative. It's not quite as local as last year's bird, but at $3.99 a pound, I can afford it and still support a farmer in my state.

Before you buy a Thanksgiving turkey, I urge you to ponder all your options. Happy Thanksgiving!

Naked Chickens

I'm trying to remain optimistic. Every day I wander out to the chicken coop and check the nest boxes for eggs, but it's to no avail. My flock is betwixt and between. The pullets haven't started laying yet, and the experienced hens are molting.

It's almost painful to watch. Feathers drop out in large clumps. Daisy the Delaware is half naked, her pink skin obviously chilled in the cool fall weather. She has no tail feathers left and there are large bare patches on her sides.

As pin feathers begin grow in, Daisy limps around the chicken yard without any energy, clearly stressed by the process. We've been supplementing with sunflower seeds for extra protein, and we make sure the girls are clean, dry and protected from wind and rain. And we wait. Poor things.

Soggy Chickens

Some chickens are smart enough to take shelter during the rain....and some aren't. We've had more than three inches of rain in the last 36 hours. Daisy and Squill seem to enjoy the reprieve from the drought. 

Daisy is soaked from head to tail. 

Squill's back is drenched and her tail feathers are dripping. 

Silly girls!

Extending the Season

Last night's hard frost finally brought an end to tomato season. We've had a satisfying crop of tomatoes this year, and we've also brought in many pounds of potatoes, squash, carrots and onions. Our canning shelves, freezer and root cellar are full. In spite of the drought, this has been a rewarding growing season and we've learned so much.

Cool fall temperatures don't necessarily signal the end of the season. Extending the growing season to Thanksgiving is possible even in Zone 5 Wisconsin. Our cheap little greenhouse continues to produce "eggplant poppers" and snack-sized green peppers. Although it's 42 degrees outside, the greenhouse can easily reach 80 when the sun is shining. As shown in the photo above, the eggplant are currently blooming.

We've hooped two of our raised beds for fall crops--spinach, Swiss chard, beets and small purple onions. The hoops are made from half inch PVC pipe and secured to the sides of the raised bed with PVC conduit u-rings. The hoops are covered with sheet plastic from the hardware store. We secured the plastic to 1x2 lumber on the long sides of the raised beds. The short ends are simply rolled up and tucked under some bricks. On warm days, I remove the plastic and let the air circulate.

Although it's nice to enjoy the fruits of our labor, the growing season isn't over yet!

Culling the Flock

As an urban farmer, the size of my chicken flock is regulated by city ordinance. Most cities with chicken ordinances permit three or four hens per yard, although I'm hoping that number will increase as neighbors understand the benefit of chickens and realize that birds are much quieter than many dogs. But I digress...

Most backyard chicken enthusiasts raise hens for egg production, although some folks keep them just for fun. Here at Red Bucket Farm, our girls are a hard-working component, providing healthy eggs for the kitchen and plenty of waste for composting. Because of flock size restrictions, we're not able to retain the birds who don't produce.

The recent addition of Thelma and Louise, our new Delaware-Buckeye hybrid pullets, forced us to cull the flock. Culling is the process of removing sick, injured or inferior birds. Rhoda, our Rhode Island Red, has been largely unproductive for many months. In addition, Rhoda is mean. She's been a bully for as long as I can remember.

It's difficult to think about where our meat comes from. As a culture, Americans have become so removed from the source of our food that many of us barely recognize that an animal died in order for us to consume meat. I think that anybody who chooses to eat meat should know the source of their dinner---how the animal lived and how it died. We can't assume that a meat animal's life is handled humanely.

Even egg-laying chickens struggle for a decent life. A commercial egg farm in southern Wisconsin routinely gasses thousands of birds after about a year of egg-laying and disposes of the carcasses in a nearby landfill. In cultures where people live closer to the land and their food sources, it is important to honor an animal's life by using all of it's parts in death.

Rhoda died quickly and without distress. We'll enjoy coq au vin tonight and cook down the remains for soup. She lived a good life right to the end.

New Pullets

Welcome, Thelma and Louise! These two girls are a Delaware-Buckeye hybrid, recently acquired from an area farmer. I love their bright yellow legs! They have rather small combs ("pea comb") that may develop a bit more as they reach maturity. Their tails are still a little stumpy but are likely to fill out. Since the girls are only about three months old, we'll wait a little bit before they begin to lay eggs.

The Delaware breed is designated as a heritage breed. The birds are white, winter hardy and lay large brown eggs. The Buckeye breed was developed in Ohio from a Rhode Island Red. The Stoughton-area farmer who bred Thelma and Louise is hoping for very hardy birds that lays plenty of rich, brown eggs.

Incorporating pullets into an established flock is a little tricky. The older birds don't exactly roll out the red carpet. Thelma and Louise are keeping a low profile, sometimes perching on elevated roosting spots that the big girls can't quite access. It can be a bit of a circus, and Louise (with the pink leg band above) tends toward the dramatic.

Stay tuned for more updates on the transition in our small flock.