Moving day for (some of the) chicks

The chicks were getting WAY too big for the stock tank (and the house was getting WAY too stinky with this many chicks indoors).

Although their sleeping habits -- piling on top each other -- were pretty funny to watch.

Nonetheless, they were seriously overcrowded. The weather is moderating a bit, so we decided to take the bigger ones and put them in the chicken coop, where we have a cage within the coop.

But first I needed to give the coop a deep cleaning, something I do about twice a year. Time to get rid of the accumulated waste and put down some fresh straw.

Matilda stopped by. Our cows are obsessed with the chicken coop because they know all those delicious forbidden chicken crumbles are inside.

(Notice our high-tech cow barrier: an extension ladder laid sideways. Hey, whatever works. Chickens can get out but cows can't get in.)

After a couple hours of hard work, the coop was clean with a fresh layer of straw, with wood shavings in the little cage for the chicks.

Time to move the chicks. These are some of our Cornish Crosses, a meat bird. They'll be ready to butcher in two or three months.

Naturally there was lots of initial bafflement on the part of the chicks we transferred to the coop, but they soon settled in.

We have eleven chicks left in the house. They're the smallest and least feathered-out so they'll be here for another couple weeks. The stink in the house has been cut WAY back and their food and water gets less dirty. Phew!

Which doesn't mean they're not looking for ways to broaden their horizons!

Dehorning Victoria

Little Victoria is five days old.

She and mama Ruby have been stuck in the barn since last Sunday when she was born. Up to this point the weather has been yucky so the barn was a nice place to be, but today was an exceptionally glorious day - sunshine, no wind, warm temps (up to 50F). But poor Ruby and Victoria were still stuck in the barn, bored and cooped up, because we had not yet dehorned Victoria.

We did so this evening. We shooed Ruby outside and pulled the calf into Matilda's pen (where there's an electric light as well as a power outlet for the clippers.

Here Don is shaving her horn buds. It's easier to apply the dehorning paste directly on top the horn buds if a lot of that pretty curly fur is out of the way.

Our barn cat, JJ, decided this was a really good time to get really friendly with the new calf.

Next I put two circles of Vaseline around the horn buds to corral the dehorning paste into the right location.

Using a Popsicle stick, I took a small amount of dehorning paste and smeared it on the horn bud, in the center of the Vaseline circle. It should be no more than a THIN nickle-sized smear. The calf jerked her head at an unfortunate moment so I had to wipe off the excess paste. It is no joke to get caustic dehorning paste where it isn't supposed to go; it can cause severe burns and injury. That paste must be right over the horn buds, no where else. When this step was done, I wiped the excess paste off my skin with a wisp of hay and then made sure to wash thoroughly when I was back in the house. (Vinegar will also negate the effects of dehorning paste and it's not a bad idea to keep some on hand when dehorning a calf.)

This is what it should look like after the paste is on (including the calf's sulky expression).

Next comes the fun part. The calf's head must be wrapped in duct tape to keep the dehorning paste from getting all over mama (either Ruby's tongue while licking her calf, or on her udder while the calf is nursing). The tape must be wrapped in such a way that it doesn't cover the eyes or pin back the ears, and it can't be so tight it chokes the calf. But it has to be on tight enough that it won't come off, either by sliding or when the mama licks the calf's head. Don is better at doing this than I am.

Once again JJ was a big help. What is it about cats and their impeccable timing?

Calves hate having their head wrapped and will sulk mightily. The duct tape should stay on for 12 hours. If we dehorn in the morning, we remove the tape in the evening. Because we dehorned Victoria in the evening, we'll remove the tape tomorrow morning.

See Ruby licking her baby? This is why that duct tape must be over the dehorning paste. It would be horrible for the paste to get on Ruby's tongue.

If all this seems like an enormous hassle, compare it to the hassle (and expense!) of a vet coming out to do a manual dehorning -- the blood, the cauterizing, the trauma. Believe me, dehorning paste (on young animals!) is the way to go.

Our Second Freedom Award Entry!

Husband of the Boss communique'

We now proudly present our second essay entry in the "Safecastle LLC Freedom Awards Self-sufficiency Essay and/or Video Contest" as well as an automatic entry in our "Rural Revolution Essay Contest"

Be sure to check out all the great potential prizes over at: SafeCastle LLC., and remember, even though we are only allowed to pass on one winner from here to the folks at Safe Castle for the final judging of the grand prizes, we here at Rural Revolution have ten prizes to give out to those of you who submit your original essay or video on self-sufficiency, survivalism, and prepping.

Our prize, the coveted Rural Revolution Tankard 

(Will look something like this, 

but will also include the words 

"2011 contest winner" and your name.)

So without further ado, here is our second entry:



My Kids are Preppers Too!
by
(Name withheld at authors request)

I have two sons, currently 13 and 11. They have always been a part of our strategic planning meetings. We feel our children need to know as much as we do about our situation. Your kids are going to know that something is going on, it is better to include them than to keep them in the dark. Trust me; if they do not fully understand your situation, they ARE going to discuss it at school or with their friends. Children are curious by nature and that curiosity has led my kids to becoming well educated about survival topics. Your children also need to know how to use every piece of equipment as well as you do. You owe it to them, as their parents, to ensure that they have all the necessary skills to survive if you are somehow injured or unavailable.

My eldest is an avid reader. Along with numerous other genres of books, he is currently reading all the apocalyptic books that he can get his hands on. I read the same adolescent novels that he enjoys. This opens the lines of communication and leads to interesting conversations. Conversations ranging from: Are the teenagers in real-life as ignorant as the teenagers in the books? (He says they are—SCARY if true) How he would handle the situation of surviving on his own? Is he ready to protect himself and his family?

My younger son is the gun enthusiast. He can list more weapon make and models than my husband. He is more athletic then my older son, but he is also more indolent and stubborn.

Both of our children are required to help in the garden, target practice, and help can. Being a contributing member of the family is not something that can be taught overnight. Nor will it be a lesson easily learned when the times are more desperate. Because of their hard work, responsibility, and maturity they are rewarded in several forms. They are often the hosts of sleepovers. Besides my loving to have the extra 2-8 kids over, I consider it a form of prepping education. Do you know how much and how often 10 teenage boys will eat? I do. A lot! Increase your food stores if you plan on teenage boys being a part of your group. I know which kids have no problem running out in the dark to chase off a stray cat that is threatening our kittens. I know which kids are willing to help in the garden and mash applesauce. This is all important for when the time comes and my home may become a safe haven for parentless children. I know, it sounds frightening and alarming.

I bring up the point about the extra kids for several reasons. First, I consider the sleepovers to be an essential par t of our prepping training. I need to know that that I can trust my kids with our secrets around other kids. I like to see how the girls and boys react with a good ole’fashioned game of ghost in the graveyard. I also like to make note of the kids that pitch in with the chores and who can be counted on to follow instructions. Secondly, I use the guise of hosting sleepovers to hide several of my preps in plain sight. Do you know how many kids will come over without proper winter gear? All of them. So it of no surprise that I have numerous pairs of boots, jackets, hats, and gloves stored in my closet. Lastly, tactically their games of hide-and-go-seek outside in the dark along are great practice. Now, I know that most of you are going to scoff at the suggestions that such childish endeavors have any real practical application. But I know exactly which one of the kids are willing to lie silently in a patch of raspberries for an hour hiding from the rest of the seekers. I also know which kids go running screaming into the night at the first hint of movement. My children have learned every hiding place outside and inside. That sounds practical to me.

Educational opportunities come every day and around every turn. It is our duty as parents to help our children recognize these occasions and step back and allow them to learn. Talking to your kids is not as productive as talking with your kids.

One such learning opportunity came with our first thunderstorm of the season. I was just leaving work when my son called to inform me that our power was out. By the time that I arrived home five minutes later, he had learned that a transformer was struck by lightning and that we would be without power for several hours. I took the opportunity to open the door for conversation and teach my kids a lesson; little did I know they were going to teach me one. I asked them, what if not only the power was out but also the phones? (a common occurrence around our place) No problem, they have their cell phones. Well, what if the cell phones were out also? The first things my sons’ ascertained was that I was referring to an EMP blast. Wow, they’re good. Yes, my eldest had been reading One Second Later and my youngest watches way too much History and Military channels. They went on to explain that one of them would “stand guard” at the best look out window in the house (but not too close to the window so no one from the outside can see them), while the other locks all the doors and pulls all the blinds and secures the property. Pretty good plan for never having discussed it with them. So now, because I’m mom I’ve got to keep throwing curve balls at them. “But what if mom and dad don’t make it home quickly?” They would consume the perishables in the refrigerator first, eating them cold or reheating them over the sternos that we have. Great, so they wouldn’t starve. “But what about if someone came up our driveway?” Besides wanting to hide inside the house they told me they know how to access the weapons and better yet they know how not to use them unless they are fired upon first. Okay, so I was pretty dang proud of them. We went on to discuss other problems, an injury, the pets, picking up the stairway so they didn’t break their necks in the dark. Now, for the real kicker. What if they weren’t home when this happened? Hmmm, Yes! I stumped them for a moment. They immediately said they would leave school and head for home. “But how would I know that they were even allowed to leave school?” They hadn’t thought of that. They developed a route for making it from school to my work (less than ½ mile away) and we would walk home together. “But, what if they do not allow the grade school children to be dismissed?” My eldest is in the high school located right next door to the grade school. We discussed how the he would go and try to convince the younger son’s teacher to allow him to released into his care. If the elder son was not successful he was not to leave the grade school without his brother. If they do not meet me at my work in a timely manner, I would travel the route (backwards) and pick them both up.

They are better prepared than most of the adults I know. That is a reassuring notion for a mother to carry with her. Times will be difficult enough; I will be worrying about my children every minute. But can you imagine how much harder it would be for my husband and I to function if our children were not well prepped? I’m sure some of you are saying that you don’t want to unduly frighten your children. I agree. During our discussions my youngest son expressed some fears about being able to carry out his duties and “pulling his weight.” It is better to opening address these fears now before they become a reality than to shelve them for a rainy day. No, I do not want my kids to live their life in fear nor do I want them to grow up too fast. It is just like training for a sport, if you don’t practice you cannot succeed. The same is true for prepping.

I know that in whatever situation we are faced with, be it tomorrow, next month, or in a year, or never, that my kids will be responsible and mature. I know I will be able to count on my kids to be able to survive TEOTWAWKI, high school, or the real world with confidence and dignity. Please talk with your kids, start right now, because a family that preps together survives together.

-----------------------------------

A reminder, gentle readers, to please consider sending us an essay on your plans, thoughts and experiences in self-sufficiency and prepping. Your entry can be a far reaching as TEOTWAWKI or as narrow as why brown rice is a better storable food than white rice.  I know a lot of you have skills and training on these important topics. You have a real shot at some great prizes (ours and especially theirs) by simply putting on e-paper, or video, things you've already considered and practiced that might be of great help to others just starting out.  If you're shy, we'll gladly keep your identity under wraps.

Come on and give Patrice a night off by writing something we can put in her place.

Cheers,
Don (The Husband of the Boss)

Random pix

Polly says, "Hey! Watcha doing in there?"

I was in town the other day when this semi truck passed me. I was startled to see a large Rottweiler balanced in back between the stacks of boards. I do NOT like seeing unrestrained animals riding in the backs of vehicles -- but I have to admit, the dog looked like he was having a blast.

We woke up yesterday morning to chilly temperatures...

...and about two inches of snow on the ground.

Granted it was gone by noon, but c'mon, this is getting old. It's April, for cryin' out loud. "We want spring!"

Older Daughter, our pianist, is learning a new piece that requires her to play in the upper octaves. One key kept sticking, so my can-do-anything husband unstuck it for her.

He removed one of the levers and gently sanded portions, then replaced it.

This piano was manufactured in 1906 and my parents bought it in 1959, the year after they were married. They passed it to us in 2004. I consider it a beloved family heirloom.

Gas prices as of 4/7/11:

Sewing lessons:

Neat clouds at sunset.

"We are all offending every moment of our lives."

Some of you may recognize the above line from Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility. But in this case, I'm apparently considered offensive enough to flag on Facebook!

Yes, it's true. A reader named Jules just posted a comment as follows:

Hi! First time commenting, but I thought you might like to know someone has found your blog so "offensive" they have flagged it on Facebook. I was unable to share this post on my profile. I did fill out a trouble ticket explaining why it is not offensive, but in the meantime you are apparently too problematic for social networking. Keep up the good work! :)

I think what this means is someone considers my blog so inflammatory that Facebook won't permit it to be shared with anyone's "friends." I'm not on Facebook, and since I refuse to register I can't see other peoples' Facebook pages. But what's the deal? Can anyone tell me why I'm so offensive that I'm flagged on Facebook? Inquiring minds want to know!

At any rate, being "offensive" rather pleases me. In fact, this just MADE my day! Must be my twisted sense of humor. Thanks for pointing this out, Jules.

Counter opinion

In response to my observations on banks, a reader posted an interesting counter-opinion. I wanted to post this separately so it wouldn't get buried.
______________________________

I think it's irresponsible to suggest that someone pull their money out of a bank if your deposits are below the FDIC insured amount. Pulling your money out can send the bank into a tailspin and insure its failure. You don't lose any money if your deposits are below the insured amount.

Local banks support local communities and should have your support. BoA, Citi and the larger banks aren't really involved in the local community and shouldn't be your first choice *if* you want to support your local community.

I do not agree with all of the jumping up and down and scaremongering that Rawles and others push... this type of unfounded, baseless fear should be ignored. Take a look at the links that are posted on SurvivalBlog - are they from trusted, reliable sites like the Wall Street Journal or some less reputable source? Think about it... why is he peddling so much fear? I am not buying it.

Again, I would urge everyone to be strong and get involved in local communities to make them stronger. Get involved in the election process by supporting candidates you support to get this country back on track, living in fear is not the way I choose to live. I have chosen to be prepared but fear is NOT part of my equation, I am an American.

How government works

A friend sent this.
________________________________

Once upon a time the government had a vast scrap yard in the middle of a desert. Congress said, "Someone may steal from it at night." So they created a night watchman position and hired a person for the job.

Then Congress said, "How does the watchman do his job without instruction?" So they created a Planning Department and hired two people, one person to write the instructions and one person to do time studies.

Then Congress said, "How will we know the night watchman is doing the tasks correctly?" So they created a Quality Control department and hired two people, one to do the studies and one to write the reports.

Then Congress said, "How are these people going to get paid?" So they created two positions, a Time Keeper and a Payroll Officer, then hired two people.

Then Congress said, "Who will be accountable for all of these people?"

So they created an Administrative Section and hired three people, an Administrative Officer, an Assistant Administrative Officer, and a Legal Secretary.

Then Congress said, "We have had this command in operation for one year, and we are $918,000 over budget. We must cut back." So they laid off the night watchman.

Now slowly, let that sink in.

Quietly, we go like sheep to slaughter.

Does anybody remember the reason given for the establishment of the DEPARTMENT OF ENERGY... during the Carter Administration?

Anybody?

Anything?

No?

Didn't think so!

Bottom line: We've spent several hundred billion dollars in support of an agency...the reason for which not one person who reads this can remember!

Ready?? It was very simple . . . and, at the time, everybody thought it very appropriate.

The Department of Energy was instituted on 8/04/1977 to lessen our dependence on foreign oil.

Hey, pretty efficient, huh???

And now it’s 2011 – 34 years later – and the budget for this “necessary” department is at $24.2 BILLION a year. It has 16,000 Federal employees and approximately 100,000 contract employees, and look at the job it has done!

This is where you slap your forehead and say, “What were they thinking?”

A little over 34 years ago, 30% of our oil consumption was foreign imports. Today 70% of our oil consumption is foreign imports.

Ah, yes -- the good old Federal bureaucracy!!

Now we have turned the banking system, health care, and the auto industry over to the same government?

Hello!! Anybody home?

Linked!

I'm shamefully behind in cross-linking a number of people who kindly posted something from my blog onto theirs, so here's the catch-up.

First and foremost, here's a writer named Leona Salazar who keeps a blog called I Don't Get It. She referenced one of my columns last year and I've borne a nasty guilt ever since for not cross-posting (I'm sorry, Leona!). This woman is a SCREAM. Witty, funny, and dead-on accurate. Her archives have her past articles. Go there, man, and immerse yourself in her brilliance.

Here's a brand-new start-up blog examining the importance of Constitutional Carry in Texas, which I think most folks reading this support and approve. Steve Haynes, the writer, referenced my Domestic Terrorist rant. He's fighting the good fight and needs our support!

Here's Rob at the PACNW Righty blog who referenced my Go West, Young Man post. Rob's observations are always razor-sharp.

And a new reader who runs a blog called the Orange Jeep Dad posted a piece on (gulp) castration. He looked up the particulars on YouTube and was horrified by the details. I would like to point Orange Jeep to my post on castrating our calf Thor 'cuz it's MUCH easier than the ol' yank-em-out version of castrating.

Remember folks, if you reference one of my blog posts on your blog, by all means let me know. The secret of the blogging world is links, links, links. Cross-linking posts is the way to grow!

"As low as one thousand dollars"

A couple weeks ago I wrote a WorldNetDaily article called Tangible Investments in which I stated how we prefer to put any surplus cash into physical possessions rather than in the bank. I later learned this column had the highest readership of any WND column I'd ever written. It even got mentioned on SurvivalBlog, which I'm certain accounted for a lot of those numbers.

It seemed the column hit a chord. A lot of people -- not just us -- apparently have little faith in money and would rather put their earnings into something tangible (a Jersey heifer in our case) rather than stash it in the bank.

And now I find out that one of our banks is teetering on the edge of disaster. This article lists 171 banks "for which the margin of failure is one thousand dollars." One of those banks is ours.

"Below we present the 171 banks that had to access the Discount Window for the paltry sum of $1,000.00," states the article. "That's right -- these are the banks for whom the margin of failure is as low as one thousand dollars. Any readers who have cash deposited with these banks (many of whom have not yet been visited by the FDIC's Failure Friday phenomenon), are urged to immediately remove all funds and run, Forrest, run."

We've known for quite awhile that two of our three banks are in fragile shape, but I hadn't realized just how fragile that shape was. It confirms our notion that banks are not the place to put our money (except for what we need to pay business and household expenses). The rare times we have surplus cash, we're putting it into something tangible.

Yeah yeah, someone is doubtless asking about the FDIC. Our money is covered -- insured -- by the (cough) full faith and credit of the United States government. Right?

Right. Do you honestly think our measly account would be covered by a bankrupt FDIC if our bank should fail? Of course not. Or if it is, the paperwork would tie it up for so long that we might as well kiss any funds goodbye.

We won't be closing our account with this bank. It's local and convenient. But nor will we keep any but the barest of funds in it. Our economic situation is such that we can't afford to lose anything because a bank fails.

An Easter story

A friend sent this.
______________________________

There once was a man named George Thomas, pastor in a small New England town. One Easter Sunday morning he came to the Church carrying a rusty, bent old bird cage, and set it by the pulpit. Eyebrows were raised and, as if in response, Pastor Thomas began to speak....

"I was walking through town yesterday when I saw a young boy coming toward me swinging this bird cage. On the bottom of the cage were three little wild birds, shivering with cold and fright. I stopped the lad and asked, "What do you have there, son?"

"Just some old birds," came the reply.

"What are you going to do with them?" I asked.

"Take 'em home and have fun with 'em," he answered. "I'm gonna tease 'em and pull out their feathers to make 'em fight. I'm gonna have a real good time."

“But you'll get tired of those birds sooner or later. What will you do then?"

"Oh, I got some cats," said the little boy. "They like birds. I'll take 'em to them."

The pastor was silent for a moment. "How much do you want for those birds, son?"

“Huh??!!! Why, you don't want them birds, mister. They're just plain old field birds. They don't sing. They ain't even pretty!"

"How much?" the pastor asked again.

The boy sized up the pastor as if he were crazy and said, "$10?"

The pastor reached in his pocket and took out a ten dollar bill. He placed it in the boy's hand. In a flash, the boy was gone.

The pastor picked up the cage and gently carried it to the end of the alley where there was a tree and a grassy spot. Setting the cage down, he opened the door, and by softly tapping the bars persuaded the birds out, setting them free.

Well, that explained the empty bird cage on the pulpit, and then the pastor began to tell this story:

One day Satan and Jesus were having a conversation. Satan had just come from the Garden of Eden, and he was gloating and boasting. "Yes, sir, I just caught a world full of people down there. Set me a trap, used bait I knew they couldn't resist. Got 'em all!"

"What are you going to do with them?" Jesus asked.

Satan replied, "Oh, I'm gonna have fun! I'm gonna teach them how to marry and divorce each other, how to hate and abuse each other, how to drink and smoke and curse. I'm gonna teach them how to invent guns and bombs and kill each other. I'm really gonna have fun!"

"And what will you do when you are done with them?" Jesus asked.

"Oh, I'll kill 'em," Satan declared proudly.

"How much do you want for them?" Jesus asked.

“Oh, you don't want those people. They ain't no good. Why, you'll take them and they'll just hate you. They'll spit on you, curse you and kill you. You don't want those people!!"

“How much? He asked again.

Satan looked at Jesus and sneered, "All your blood, tears and your life."

Jesus said, "DONE!" Then He paid the price.

The pastor picked up the cage and walked from the pulpit.