Posts Tagged ‘compost’
Dust Bathing
While I was busy sprucing up the property, the chickens were sprucing up themselves with a rousing dust bath yesterday afternoon. Apparently, two of them had simultaneous interest in the exact same spot of sandy ground. If it hadn’t been for their two different colors, I wouldn’t have been able to tell where one left off and the other started.
The three of them were pretty cute in their companionship earlier in the day when I was turning the piles of compost. They would climb up on the pile I was working on, startling a little bit each time I tossed another scoop on the heap. Not intending to alarm them, I would switch to a different pile to work, after which they would migrate over to help me on that pile.
After a few hours of compost management, I pulled out the Grizzly with our towable grader/rake and did some laps in the round pen to disrupt the uninvited weedy grasses that love taking root in the sand. Maybe the chickens will take a liking to the newly raked sand over there.
Finally, I cranked up the lawn tractor to mow the yard and all the nooks and crannies from the house to the road.
I feel ready to return to the day-job. The next big task demanding attention is the labyrinth. With Cyndie reduced to one working arm, that garden has been mostly neglected. It is something I can probably do after work one of these nights, if I have any energy for the project. The grass and weeds have gotten tall and thick, so it won’t be a quick and easy job.
When that is completed, I need to get after the north pasture, where Cyndie has already removed the fence webbing. I want to pull the T-posts that remain standing and then knock down the shoulder-high growth with our brush cutter. That will be an adventure in mowing what you can’t see.
Sure hope the chickens stay out of that field.
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Working Through
Some chores don’t wait for nice weather, so we ventured out into the constant drizzle on Sunday to open space in our compost area, despite the inconvenience. Cyndie had moved the horses indoors out of the wet on Saturday night, which resulted in soiled wood shavings in their stalls at a time when we didn’t have space in the compost area.
Luckily, there is a spot next to the barn where we’ve been using composted manure and old hay to fill in a drop in the landscape. The area had been a too convenient runway for water drainage that was problematic. Bringing it back to level with the surrounding area will spread and slow water flowing from above.
Out came the Grizzly, after putting air in the leaky front tire, and the metal grate trailer for an increasingly muddier series of loads from the compost area. Very similar to working on moving innumerable bales of hay, as time goes by, the loads seemed to get heavier and heavier and I started to move slower and slower. Cyndie pushed back against my increasing moments of pause, with a goal of getting the job done as quickly as possible so she could get in out of the cold and wet.
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When she proclaimed we were down to just two loads remaining, I corrected her with the estimation of four loads. After I tried to take out a small load to assure my estimation would win, she suggested we could toss some of the last bits into the woods around the compost area, leading to an outcome of three loads completing the task. It was declared a tie.
We were wet, it was muddy, but we had worked through the nasty weather to accomplish a necessary chore. We now have open space for composting again.
And not a moment too soon.
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Chicks Exploring
I have no idea whether the raccoon Delilah alerted us to outside our sunroom in broad daylight yesterday afternoon had anything to do with the new presence of our 8-week-old chicks roaming the property. It was certainly a surprising and uncharacteristic sighting.
Daily, our chicks have expanded their excursions from the coop, and yesterday achieved milestones that gave me great satisfaction. Cyndie found them marching along the edge of the woods toward the compost area where they quickly unleashed their best chicken behavior on the piles.
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Later, after running with Delilah to follow the scent of the raccoon, we moved behind the barn to check on the birds. When they spotted us, they scooted from the paddock over toward the coop. The paddock is the other spot I hoped the chickens would frequent. My two primary goals realized in the same day. Huzzah!
While I am grateful that Delilah is attentive enough to call out the presence of a raccoon threat in our yard, I’m not yet convinced her concern for the chicks is as altruistic as we would wish. While Cyndie was cleaning the barn, Delilah held an uncomfortably intense focus on the compost area.
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Adding Oxygen
A sure sign of spring being in full swing is when we finally start dealing with the piles of manure that accumulate in the paddocks over winter. Yesterday, I dug into one of the two big ones.
We generally build up the piles in the paddock and then ignore them. As a result, they don’t make stellar progress in breaking down. However, over time they do settle noticeably. Seeing them get flat is usually a trigger for me to take action to turn the pile.
Since the pile yesterday had been left untended for weeks, it made for a vivid example of the transition possible when putting in the effort to turn it over, reshape it and add air.
The micro organisms that do the composting will use up all available water and oxygen in the pile. If it isn’t replenished, the process stalls. In the case of this pile, the neglect had foiled things before all the moisture was removed, so it was still wet enough, but it needed some air get the process going again.
In the image you can see the old, dry, flattened portion on the right, and the freshly turned, taller pile I was turning it into on the left.
While I was working, Hunter sauntered over to visit. I acknowledged him, but didn’t stop what I was doing. He didn’t move as I maneuvered the pitch fork to toss the pile without hitting him, but only narrowly missing him. He kept inhaling loudly, absorbing the earthy smells emanating from the newly oxygenated mass.
I breathed heavily, right along with him as I worked. Soon, I noticed his eyes were getting droopy. He was just chilling near me as I toiled away.
It reminded me of the time, years ago, when I was just getting to know the horses. Hunter approached me while I was raking up the winter’s-worth of accumulated manure, and he laid down next to me. I was so shocked by his action that I called Cyndie to check on the situation. She seemed thrilled by his behavior and assured me that it was an indication he was entirely comfortable with my presence and I could simply continue to rake while he rested beside me.
It’s precious knowing he still likes to hang with me like that as I work.
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Garden Progress
Cyndie’s new garden is progressing nicely. We received a wonderfully timed rain shower last night, after giving the plants a final serving of composted manure fertilizer. With the robust effort Cyndie put in to protect the new plantings from marauding animals, the garden should now have everything necessary to thrive.
After my last wheelbarrow load had been delivered to her, I headed into the paddock to do a little clean up in the narrow end closest to the garden. In no time, Legacy arrived to closely supervise. He always wants to nibble on the wooden handles of the wheelbarrow, which I strictly forbid.
I repeatedly adjust the position so the handles point to where I am standing, meaning he would have to go through me to get to them. If I wander at all, he will step in for a bite. After he figured out I wasn’t going to let that happen, he turned his attention to Cyndie in the garden, on the other side of the driveway.
As I worked, the other three horses arrived to share in the excitement. Cayenne stood so close to me that we almost bumped noses a couple of times. I called over to Cyndie to show off my crew, hanging with me while I toiled away.
I didn’t know she was taking pictures until we got inside and she shared them.
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Not Hot
This is one of the not hot compost piles in our paddock. Not much in the way of decomposition happening there. Maybe that will change this weekend when the mega-melt of February is expected to arrive.
The frozen compost piles aren’t hot, but the temperature of the air will be. Add a chance for some rain in the mix and our lawn may become visible by the end of the weekend.
Mud season!
I suppose I ought to think about getting the garden tractor tuned up and ready for battle.
This early warmup in interesting, but warmth at this time of year is a fickle thing. One moment it feels all summery and promising, and a day later we could be socked in by a foot or two of heavy, wet snow. Do. Not. Remove. Winter. Accessories. From. Your. Vehicles.
The odds of needing them stays high through the first week in May around here. I’m inclined to wait until June before finally choosing to store them someplace safe, where I will never remember to look the following November when I am desperate to scrape frost off a windshield again.
This past Monday, the horses were enjoying the last hour of our increasingly longer daylight while I was tending to the frozen manure pile closest to the barn. I have a sense that they are going to enjoy a warm spell, despite the messy footing it promises to provide.
With their coats still winter-thick, I expect it may feel downright hot to them.
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Hot Compost
I continue to enjoy with fascination how much heat is created by the microorganisms in our compost pile, especially when the outside air temperature drops to double digits below zero (F). I took a picture of the thermometer reading on Saturday morning when the polar vortex had us in a deep freeze.
Our sh*t is cookin’!
That pile consists primarily of what has been cleaned from the barn stalls.
We are also collecting manure in the paddocks and piling it in several spots out there. Although I attempted to swiftly establish healthy sized piles, hoping I could get them to also start cooking, they are all frozen solid.
I’ll be experimenting to see how long it takes for me to bring ’em to life as winter wanes.
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Chilly Chillin’
When I got home from work yesterday, Cyndie wasn’t back from an errand to Hudson, so it became my responsibility to take Delilah for a walk. Cyndie anticipated her arrival would be shortly thereafter and that she could tend to the horses.
Fine with me. Ms. Canine greeted me at the door, sweet as could be, and appeared perfectly thrilled over the opportunity to get outside, regardless the ongoing deep freeze we were experiencing.
It was an agenda-free stroll. We just hung out together.
I started with a little bush-whacking through undisturbed snow along one of our trails that hadn’t been traveled for a long time. Delilah loved it. There were plenty of fresh scents from critters for her to investigate, and several opportunities for her very fox-like “pounce.” She cocks her head to listen and then leaps straight up with all 4 paws, so that her nose-down landing, deep into the snow, will be a total surprise attack.
Cute as heck, but she very rarely seems to be on the right track. Makes me wonder what spawns the sudden dramatic maneuvers, either sound or scent. Maybe both. She obviously shows signs of listening, but I am never sure whether that is because she smelled something first, or not.
We made our way over toward the horses in the large paddock. They all seemed to be biding their time until they could get inside to the bedding of wood shavings in their stalls for some long winter naps. Even a thin metal roof overhead is good enough to offer a noticeable buffer from the bitter cold that seems to fall directly from outer space. They show signs of being keenly aware of that advantage when the nighttime temperatures head into double digits below zero.
I glanced toward the orange glow of the setting sun and spotted a nice view of the steam that rises off the cooking compost pile. With the air so bitter cold, it is all the more fascinating that the microorganisms breaking down the pile of sullied bedding generate temperatures to 140° (F) and beyond.
The pile gets a thick version of hoarfrost from the steam, which provides a nice touch of drama on top of the otherwise unsavory mound.
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Well Supervised
When the rain finally moved beyond our location yesterday, I headed out with the intention of spreading the rest of our composted manure.
Since the horses were in their stalls overnight Friday, we now have several wheelbarrows-full of soiled wood shavings to be removed, and need to have the space to dump them.
Cyndie needed to make a run to the drug store, so I took Delilah with me and meandered toward the barn. The piles of compost looked a little wet, so I decided to delay digging into them and turned my attention to the uninvited sprouting trees that show up in the hay-field.
What transpired next is something that I wish could be experienced by everyone who comes to Wintervale to see our horses. Delilah and I entered the paddock through one of the gates, clanking the chain on the metal in the process, which inevitably draws the attention of the herd.
I had no intention of disrupting the herd from whatever was occupying their attention at the time, as I was focused on seeking out the sprouting trees. Delilah and I walked out into the hay-field where I released her to roam and then set about my task.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the horses made their way over, in the process of their grazing. Hunter led the way, eventually becoming the most obvious. It took probably around 15 minutes, maybe more, of me ignoring them while focused on my project, for them to close the distance and make their intention transparent.
They wanted to be with me, to check on what I was doing, to engage with my presence.
It’s an amazing thing to experience. Four horses grazing peacefully, but purposefully in your proximity. Occasionally, one will break from eating and step right up to smell me, share an exchange of breath, and invite me to scratch them.
It is a slow process that happens silently and takes both time, and lack of expectation on my part. That is the primary reason it is so difficult to make happen on demand when visitors stop by. It is a priceless experience.
After I had dispatched all the volunteer sprouts, I turned my attention to spreading the compost. This time I remembered to pause to take pictures of the ATV and tipped trailer ready to go in the field. As soon as I stopped, Legacy stepped up to inspect my activity.
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Spreading Manure
After I finished cutting up the fallen tree, I talked Cyndie into helping me see if we could spread our composted manure on the hay-field by way of our ATV trailer. It occurred to me that I had moved similar amounts with this trailer when previously using manure for fill around our property. The only difference would be spreading it thinly over a wide area, as opposed to dumping it all in one place.
We tried a couple methods of unloading the trailer, but they were a bit cumbersome. I tried pitching forkfuls to and fro. We took turns trying to drive slowly while the other person used a rake to pull manure off the trailer.
It was getting the job done, but it felt like we were working harder than the mediocre results warranted.
On my third trip back to the hay-field with a trailer full, it struck me that I could simply remove the tailgate and drive fast enough to bounce most of the contents out. I figured doing so would spread it thinner than we were achieving by hand. What’d I have to lose?
It still wasn’t very precise distribution, but I was definitely able to lose the entire contents of the trailer, simply by driving wildly around the field. It was less work, so we deemed it an acceptable method.
I was thinking that I should have Cyndie take my picture while I caromed past her with the trailer tilted back and manure spilling out, but she headed in before we had that chance.
As I was taking the picture of the filled trailer, I decided I could stop out in the field after dumping half the load and at least snap a picture of the ATV and tipped trailer, but then completely forgot about the plan while bouncing the Grizzly and trailer over the rough terrain of the field.
There’ll be another chance for that shot. We probably got about half way through the amount that is available to spread yesterday. I would like to get the rest of the composted manure cleared out so that we will have the maximum available space open for the winter season.
We end up with a lot more material when the horses spend nights in the barn during wet or extreme cold nights of winter. Also, the composting slows down a bit, and it is hard to keep turning it when it gets buried with snow. The end result: we store more “product,” and therefore need all the space that we’ve set aside for this purpose.
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Relative Something 