In Praise of Eggs

What's in an Egg

Eggs have been a controversial food over the years. It has been insisted that because eggs contain cholesterol they must be bad for you. We have been exhorted to eat omelets made from just the white of the egg to minimise our fat intake and, in typical fashion we've lapped up this nonsense. But throwing away the egg yolk, that golden, sunny ball of complete and exceptional nutrition is nothing short of vandalism.

The egg yolk is one of nature's most complete and wonderful foods. Pasture raised organically handled hens produce the most wonderful delicious eggs and we really need to celebrate them. Sadly their caged raised sisters do not have access to such a wonderful diet and consequently their sacrifices result in eggs of lower nutritional standard. Let the girls out into the sunshine and the eggs they give us are orders of magnitude better for us, for the hens and for the planet.

It is by no means certain that cholesterol is the ogre it's been painted. It is the primary building block for the majority of our steroid hormones. Insufficient cholesterol can result in depression, muscle pain, personality change and menstrual problems in women. This is particularly evident in people taking Statin class drugs. I promise to stay off that particular soap box right now but suffice to say when government decides EVERYONE over a certain age should be on a drug we really have to wonder who is benefiting.

So What is in that gorgeous oval of flavour. The World's Healthiest Foods points out that a single egg contains 34% of our daily choline needs. Choline deficiency results in fatty liver disease and can cause cell signalling and nerve signalling defects. Consuming significant dietary choline can prevent these things. Eggs are the reference food for protein with a high biological value. This means they are easily digested and used to support the body's needs. Eggs are also a rich source of selenium and iodine. These minerals are significant because they are difficult to obtain from other sources and while they are freely available in fish, shell fish and mushrooms many folk avoid these foods but are happy to eat eggs.

According to Authority Nutrition eggs help weight loss. In a study of 30 overweight or obese women who ate either a bagel or eggs for breakfast, those who ate eggs ate less at lunch and less over the next 36 hours. The egg is certainly advocated by both Slimming World and Weight Watchers in the UK!

The egg is unusually nutrient dense. It is easily digested and forms a wonderful part of the human diet. It is possible but difficult to supplement in baking and, if ethically farmed or husbanded is an exceptionally sustainable food.

Our eggs come from rescued barn hens. Lovely ladies who hitch up their skirts to dash about the garden in search of insects, plants and entertainment. We know our hens have a truely relaxed and entertaining existance. If your breakfast comes from such a wonderful source its difficult to go to work without a smile on your face.

Happy Thursday
Katherine

Happy Easter and Honey Super Part The Second.

Now the bees are smoking....

Ok they aren't smoking we managed to smoke the hive so they calmed right down. Just so you know this shows some real close ups of bees so if you aren't too happy with insects watching this might not be your best idea.

What you see happening here is bees realising that they are being held over the main colony and without being encouraged at all walking down into the new honey super. Other bee keepers speed up the process by tapping the board so the bees fall off but we are really trying to look after our bees as gently and naturally as possible. Bob stood holding the board for about 15 minutes while they made up their mind and slowly trooped off back where they'd come from.

We loaded all the frames into the super and they look pristine and beautiful. In a few months no doubt they'll look exactly like all the other frames we have. Bees like things homely.

If the weather continues to be fairly mild we may get some early honey. I have to say I can't wait. However there are those out there, people who have seen me cook and decorate, who may feel that transferring honey from comb into jars is a job best left to the better organised. 

We put the crown board on top of the honey super and put the roof of the hive back. It doesn't really look that much bigger but we know there are possibilities in there. There is breeding going on, there are new bees hatching and soon there will be honey. The question is, will there be enough honey for us to share this year?

Easter is for many the celebration of the resurrection of Christ. In the pre christian/pagan calendar it is celebration of new life and fecundity. The harvest yet to come. The celebration of all that is possible. Our chickens have proven to us that a great deal is possible. The bees have shown us that a new skill is learned quickly where necessity dictates.  Introducing both into our lives have brought us the gifts of new friends and a greater appreciation of what is possible!.

So raise with us a glass, a mug, a cup or a bottle to what is possible and what is new.

Watching in hope

Katherine

Adding a Honey Super.

DIY Bee Keeping.

When we got our hive it arrived complete, put together and full of bees. They'd had a holiday in Tollerton and were happy to move lock stock and two smoking barrels into our 'hood. So, having done it the easy way it has come as something of a shock to the system to realise that pretty much all bee paraphernalia comes flat pack. There are numerous bee keeping Ikea stores out there selling bits you have to put together in order to enhance the "des' res'" you maintain for your ladies.

When Alex came over a few weeks ago he said he'd order some super frames for us-apparently its cheaper to buy in bulk. Two days later the above carrier bag arrived containing the bits to make our honey frames. Over the last week or so I put the bits together. I didn't realise the pins supplied came in two different lengths till after I'd put the frames in the hive so it is possible that at some point hence the frames may become over burdened with honey and fall apart. All part of the learning curve I guess.

What you see here is a wooden frame which sandwiches and supports a sheet of bees wax "foundation" This is sterile beeswax which has been pressed into an appropriate shape to help bees make comb in a convenient shape for people to work with. What you can't tell from the picture is how delicious the combination of new pine wood and fresh beeswax smells. Having suffered the smell of three cat litter tray during the wettest winter in living memory the pure fresh smell is such a balm to the senses.Ultimately I had pile of ten frames and felt pretty pleased with myself. The next job was to put the frames in the super so the bees can begin to make use of them. 

You will recall from previous posts that a combination of inexperience and hubris had lead me to several unfortunate incidents where I thought it would be ok to "just do this little job" without putting on a bee keeping suit or lighting the smoker. This time we both suited up, put on our gloves, zipped up sensibly and lit the smoker in proper preparation for our work. Our colony is pretty gentle but when you take the lid off, move the frames around and make strange noises even the most gentle strains of bees will locate their warrior genes.

Lighting the smoker is always more of a palaver than it ought to be. For goodness sake dry wood shavings in a metal can should light perfectly easily with the aid of a blow torch. Sounds easy. However the reality is impeded by basic physics. Because the shavings are, effectively, in the bottom of a brass can, when you put the flame of the blow torch near the tinder the FLAME GOES OUT. Insufficient oxygen in the enclosed space for the butane flame. Blessed ridiculous. Ultimately we put some dry holly leaves in and they set light but only after the bees had started to get a little jittery because we'd taken a frame out.

The ladies from the bottom of the garden have been pretty busy. What comb they have is completely full. The queen has been laying and it is clear that if they are going to maintain colony strength they are going to need more stores. Recently night time temperatures have been as low as 4 degrees Celsius again. It is only April and in the UK that certainly doesn't signal the end of frost on the ground. Bob went out and bought fleece to put over plants at the allotment because they still need protection. However it is a record year for blossom-and tree pollen as a result. No fun for hay fever sufferers however it means that our bees have a good supply of nectar to start spring production. Pollen is coming in by the basket load and is notably paler than the honey they collected in the later months of last year.

Back to the matter in hand. We smoked them down so they went about their business and took the crown board off the hive. Everything looked and smelled right. We took one of the frames out but, given that we were about to give their home a spring makeover we decided not to do a full inspection. 

Instead of replacing the crown board we put a small rectangle of pine on top of the brood body. this is the exact dimensions of the hive but only 2 inches high. This gives a bit of extra space before you put on a screen made of what look like wooden skewers. This is known as a queen excluder. Basically it prevents the queen from getting through and laying eggs in what you hope will be the frames that provide you with pure honey.

In this image you can see the new frames and the queen excluder between the brood body and the super. It doesn't really look like the gaps are wide enough for a bee to squeeze through but we realised, from observation, that clearly the bee is capable of sneaking through extremely small spaces.

Anyway. It's late and there's much more to tell you so I'll get this out there and follow up tomorrow.

Happy thoughts.

Katherine

Crazy Things You Can Buy For Your Chicken

I don't believe it!

After joking yesterday about taking chickens for a walk on a lead I was persuaded by a friend to do a web search for chicken leads. I can honestly say that I have never been more surprised by the variety of bizarre merchandise that is available in such a niche area.

We can start with THE CHICKEN DIAPER. Nappies for chooks. Seriously such things exist. Not only that but they are available in a rainbow of colours and prints. Not just, as you might think, the various colours of chicken feathers. Oh no, chicken nappies are available in floral prints, plain colours and many quirky prints including skulls for those of you with gothic tendencies or a need to honour Alexander McQueen.These nappies also come as integral parts of a chicken dress with bows on the back or with a pre installed D ring so that you can attach a leash. These "Leash Ready" diapers come in packets of 4.

Now I don't know about you but while I can't say I exactly love chicken poop I do not feel the need to attach a bag to the hen's rear in order to catch it before it soils the garden. I guess the kind of people who like a chicken nappy are the sort of people who want their chickens to have free access to the sofa and sky TV. After all what is life without "The Real Housewives of Orange County" or "Dog the Bounty Hunter."? Perhaps even a bit of  "Jeremy Kyle". Of course the mention of Mr Kyle has thrust an unwanted image of chickens sitting on high stools being interviewed about their dysfunctional families. There are at least two cockerels duking it out over who is the eggy daddy....

Of course when I did a web search for bizarre chicken accessories I didn't find things for chickens. I found chicken themed things for people . Masks, costumes, er.....the kind of bedroom accouterments we don't need to discuss here. Clearly the world is chicken mad.

On balance I'll stick to feeding the girls on organic free range pellets, the odd bit of bacon and grain and I'll continue wearing wellies, a grubby sweater and an old pair of leggings when i'm tending to them. and where it comes to the chickens bathroom habits and free ranging? Somehow I think Chicken nappies and leads are for other, perhaps less busy, people.

The Great Escape

Cover Me I'm Going In.

You may remember that earlier in the year we had to clip John's wings. She kept flying over into next door's garden and, as they have a lovely but enthusiastic lurcher we thought that in the interest of safety and sanity we would limit her access.All was going swimmingly, John and I were almost back on clucking terms, when Henrietta Chicken decided she was ready to investigate the world at large.

Henrietta is the first to leap on you at the first sign of a meal worm or a sunflower seed. She has come a long way from her early timidity and, we think, was the first to lay an egg. She has lovely speckled feathers and, aside from the patch of blue fence paint on her wing from her attempts at helping Bob to paint the raised beds, is a lovely roan colour. She has bags of personality (or is that chickenality) and we adore her. However she is a wayward hen at the best of times. 

Henrietta and Beatrice both have a taste for cat food. The moment they spot an opening they are in through the back door and chomping their way through whatever variety the cats have turned up their noses at. I've no doubt you share my horror at the practice of turning animals past their prime into protein pellets for their progeny. It was responsible in large part for BSE. Bovines are grass eaters. Pulping them up and feeding them to the next generation was always going to cause trouble-allegedly cannibals (human cannibals) that eat a great deal of same species flesh develop the shakes and terrible nervous system problems. If you look at the ingredient list for virtually any brand of cat food you will see chicken listed amongst the few meat ingredients. Now, to be fair, the avarage high street brand only contains 4% meat so there's little danger of the girls showing signs of dementia in the near future however the thought of them eating their sisters fills me with horror. Not so the chickens.

The single mindedness with which they apply themselves to breaking into the house or out of the garden is awe inspiring. People keep telling me how thick chickens are but if they aren't so clever they sure have native cunning. In the morning, when you go to let them out of the run, if you don't close the back door behind you the first hen is in the cat food before the last one has made it out of the hen house door. This is becoming true of their ability to escape the compound we call our garden. 

It's not actually Colditz but it is not the lush green garden it has been in the past. There is barely a blade of grass left. Plants are ripped from the soil as soon as they raise their spring heads and the hedge is gradually being denuded too. In view of this it is hardly surprising that the hens feel the urge to forage for greener surroundings. I doubt there is so much as a snails egg left to chomp on. The same is not true of neighbouring plots.Yet.

On Wednesday last week I was quietly reading when I heard Bob yell up to boy number one "Er, could you pop out the front a moment? I need a hand." I didn't hear what transpired but a few hours later I was treated to the tale of Henrietta's first taste of freedom. Evidently she'd got over the wall, had a dash around and then headed out to the side road for a look. Thankfully Bob was just walking down to the allotment when he spotted her. He tried to get his hands on her but she was having none of it. Evidently having chased her back and forth between two front gardens he finally gave in and called Joel to help. Between the two of them she was corralled and returned to secure accommodation.

I clipped her wings. She wasn't pleased, it wasn't fun for either of us. Having researched wing clipping I chose the kinder alternative of clipping only a part of each wing which meant she wouldn't be off balance and could still bimble about chicken fashion without too much interference. The following day I let the girls out for a run. Someone on the skills exchange came to pick up a keyboard and in the 10 minutes my attention was not on the rear garden she vanished. Vamoosed. Disappeared. No Henrietta.

I peered in both the next door gardens. No chicken. So I walked round the back into the private road that backs onto our rear fence. No Chicken. However there were the tell tale signs that someone with claws had been scratching around the neat border of primulas and miniature daffodils our neighbours so carefully tend. No. Chicken. I knocked on the door of the bungalow which was answered by an elderly gentleman who looked like the guy in that painting American Gothic. I asked "Have you seen a chicken around here recently?" "yes I have. Must be the third time this week. It's ruined the garden." "Did you see where it went?" "No, and I don't care. What about my garden" "I'm sorry, I have to find the hen first but when I do I'll come back and sort out your borders" "Just see that you do" 

Copyright the Chicago Art Institute.

By now I was absolutely beside myself. I was also limping a bit after straining an ankle running for the bus the day before. So I limped around the local streets asking those I saw "Have you seen a chicken?" I can only hypothesise from the looks and sniggers that the good burgers of West Bridgford thought I had been taking my chicken for a walk and it had given me the slip. I suppose it is unusual to be asked whether you have spotted a missing chicken. Perhaps given the surreal nature of the inquiry it was not such a leap of imagination to weird women with a hen on a lead.

I retraced my steps and thought I would try a little Sherlock style deduction. Looking at the neighbours destroyed flower bed I realised that there was a pattern of debris about the place that could only have been scraped up by the claws of a large avian. Knowing ostriches to be in short supply I moved around the clutch of bungalows and noted other tell tale signs and then heard a friendly chicken gurgle. A few moments later a tired but happy Henrietta allowed me to pick her up virtually without complaint. I returned her to the run with her sisters where she happily busied herself with the feed hopper.

I returned to our neighbour, swept up his path and replanted the primulas that had been dislodged. In general she hadn't done too much damage but I apologised and offered pay war reparations. Subsequently we have had to lock her in the run for most of the day because after a further two escapades it became clear that our neighbours are not of the friendly forgiving kind and, understandably, do not take kindly to a chicken in the herbaceous border. I have now saved up enough eggs to take round as a peace offering but I suspect it is going to take a bit more than a box of the lovely girls' efforts to draw a smile from the poor man.

Spring Bees

Are we through the worst of the winter.

When I looked at the bees the other day the warmer weather had drawn them out to forage and, thanks to the incredibly mild year, there seems to be a lot of blossom on the trees and spring flowers are opening earlier than you might expect.

I rang Karina to tell her the hive had survived the summer and she warned me that the same happened to her last year but come Good Friday they found the hive had died. I cannot begin to imagine the sorrow she must have felt. You become extremely attached to what is essentially a box full of insects. Somehow there has been a synergy between bees and humans for millenia and we remain connected.

It seems that, however much they take in in the autumn (and if you remember our bees had about 21 kilos of sugar syrup over September and October) if the queen lays early then it becomes a race to find sufficient nectar to make into honey. The bees were rushing in with their pollen covered yellow trousers and evidently this is a sign of new brood. Although they store a great deal of pollen in the capped wax cells, they still prefer to feed new brood on fresh food. A commendable approach. One I wish i'd been able to use for my new family.

The winter isn't over yet for the bees.

Yours pensively
Katherine

Our First Look in the Hive 2014: And Finally Me in a Bee Keeping Suit.

Over 10 Degrees Celsius at Last.

We have been aching to see inside the hive for the last month or so. I hefted the hive (the process of assessing the weight of the hive by lifting one side) It seemed a lot more maneuverable than it was last year and I cam promise you there has been no weight training going on in the interim.

What has happened in the interim is that I have acquired a bee keeping suit that fits a little better. It's still not an ABBA moment but at the very least I can bend down to pick up a dropped hive tool which is a significant improvement. 

You can't really see much here except me in what looks suspiciously like a babygro on the left hand side. I'm still using two rubber washing up gloves worn on top of each other to compensate for a lack of proper bee keeping gloves. Alex has proper long leather gauntlets but he's very kind and doesn't laugh.

We had planned to open the hive in the morning but when I checked the temperature it was only 8 degrees. The wind was blowing and it looked like threatening rain. Also, I felt like hell, so I went back to bed. The sun came out in the afternoon and as it pushed a balmy 14 degrees C Alex turned up to take me through the process. We smoked down the hive and took off the super and crown board. Underneath the bees were active but not overly upset at our intrusion. There was no agressive flying and the bees just fell to the joyful job of munching on honey.

Here you can see some bees enjoying the excess that they've built to fill up the spaces. We'd already scraped a fair bit off. You can see that most of the bees here are quite dark apparently this means they are winter bees. Some of them have been flying out for supplies and bringing back their golden pollen treasure hoards.

Here you get a better idea of how much they've built to fill the spaces between the frames.

This picture shows a frame propped up against the side of the hive while which gives us space to look at another without any unfortunate bee squishing. You can see the new honey built around the central section. It is common for the queen to lay her eggs in a rugby ball pattern through the middle of many frames. This means they are at the centre of the hive which is the warmest and the worker bees build honey comb around them in order to but insulate and provide stores for the new brood and the queen.

And here I am proudly and joyfully holding, not dropping, a comb full of honey and covered in bees. It's a strange thing to know all those bees could suddenly decide they needed to protect themselves. But here they are, chowing down on good old honey. And did I mention I wasn't panicking?

The net result was that the hive was clean, industrious and had supplies. The workers are already bringing back pollen and nectar for the year ahead and the queen has commenced spring laying. As long as the weather doesn't suddenly run headlong into an unexpected winter we should be able to avoid feeding them and be able to start putting on supers to collect the honey.

Watch this space.

Happy Hunting

Katherine