News from the Homestead: The many gifts of Christmas 2024
What an amazing holiday season it was at Wittbrich Acres. It was a time filled with hosting numerous events, over-indulging in food and drink, and sharing tangible and intangible gifts with one another. Suffice it to say, 2024 will go down as a more than memorable year and the memories we’ve begun weaving during our three months on the homestead will add to our already rich and full life’s tapestry.
Mike and Tami on a quite Christmas morning at Wittbrich Acres
Our Christmas day is always a quiet one. Our children spend the day with their children as it should be and we are left to share time together in peace and gratitude for our many blessings. Amid the near-constant hosting we did this year, having this day to ourselves was relaxing and beautiful. Our white Christmas began with early morning refrains of the hymn Ave Maria, taking me back to my childhood holidays.
My father, who was blessed with a rich and resonate singing voice, commonly sang Ave Maria at our important family events. Each time I hear it, I feel like I’m receiving an ethereal touch from my father. Christmas morning I felt Dad’s presence. I so wish I could share our adventures with him directly, but am contented to sense his approval, hear his spirit-voice calming my fears, and live the values he and mom ensured were consistently modeled for us as children.
Later that morning, Mike and I took a walk and, perhaps compelled by this nostalgic morning gift, found ourselves in the historic cemetery that abuts our property. We reset wreaths, flowers, and other symbols of remembrance that had been blown over or dislodged during recent high winds. As I wandered through the rows of headstones, I wished our “neighbors” and their ancestors peace throughout the season. I thought about their lives and the ways they may have marked Christmas in the 1800s when many of them lived. It was a moving experience to greet those we never knew and pay homage to their legacies whatever they may be.
Not to be left out, our chickens feasted on special treats and extra attention throughout the holiday season. Much to my happiness, they seemed well contented, which sadly proved to be short-lived.
Mike offering tender support to our ailing chicken
On the first day of the new year, we discovered one of our hens in obvious distress. She was standing straight upright like a penguin, with her tail feathers dragging on the ground—a very unusual posture for a hen. Unaware of the cause we did what we do so often on this adventure—we consulted Google. Technology’s diagnosis was that she may be egg-bound so we set to taking measures to help relieve her. Mike and I bathed our hurting beauty in a warm Epsom salt bath, we gently massaged her, we wrapped her in warm towels and rocked her. We fed her olive oil through a pipette. We penned her and brought her into the garage where she could be isolated from the other hens and where we could check on her through the night. By January 3 we had to recognize our home remedies were not going to help and took her to a vet to help her on her way. While I don’t know that we’ll do that in every instance of a sick hen, I felt it important to better understand the issues, learn more about the breed, recognize warning signs and gather other helpful insights from a professional.
We learned that she was at least eight years old. She was not egg-bound, but likely had liver and/or gallbladder cancer (who knew chickens could suffer such a fate). And she had a broken back likely as the result of one of our rather randy roosters who don’t adjust their carnal needs based on the age of their feathered paramours. In the end, I gained valuable learning from the experience and our little old lady was not caused to suffer unduly. I also learned that a merciful end to a hen costs about $90.
Sadly, a few days later another of our hens succumbed. I found her in the coop in the afternoon, surrounded by her sister hens. They were gently approaching her lifeless form and nudging her–not picking on her, just rubbing the back of their beaks across her own or under her neck. Each would spend a moment or two before wandering off and allowing the next set to visit with their fallen sister–It was a chicken wake–or at least that’s how it occurred to me. Another quick consult with Google and I learned that chickens do, in fact, grieve and their behavior over a loss is consistent with what I observed.
I made some investments at the hen house that will pay back by making my daily chores less onerous. Eldest son, Jason, installed an auto-open/close door on the coop and Ring cameras so I can monitor the enclosure area and access points from wherever I am. I put in a new watering system that provides greater capacity of clean water for longer periods. I also added some hanging coop toys I received from Mike as a gift (lots of chicken-themed gifts were under my tree this year!). It was fascinating to watch the flock adjust to these changes. They no longer have to wait for me to come out in the morning to open the coop door to let them into the enclosure and they love playing with their new distractions.
I was worried that the change to their water delivery might result in them being confused and not getting enough to drink. After setting it up and removing alternative waterers, I sat on my own roost in the coop and just quietly observed them. At first, they avoided the waterer and treated it with wary suspicion. Then one of my more curious girls ventured toward it and tentatively started pecking at the plastic surround. Voila! She discovered how to peck just right at the small metal spot that, when depressed, releases the water. She set the example for the other hens as she eagerly slaked her thirst. One by one they came, watched her for a moment and then replicated her movements. In less than an hour, all but the roosters had taken their turn, some being slower than others to learn the perfect spot to peck to get their liquid reward.
Norman, overseeing his flock learn the new watering system.
Being the true rooster leaders they are, Norman and Colonel Sanders waited until all the hens had learned how to extract the tiny droplets of water, and they were the last to drink. I couldn’t help but snicker a little as I mentally compared my feathered leaders to many human counterparts I’ve known in my professional career who never thought twice about being the first to drink at the corporate trough. They could have learned a thing or two from my roosters about how to lead a flock.
No real news from the hives. There were a few warm days in December during which I did see my honeys coming and going from the very small hole that grants them access to the world beyond their well-insulated winter quarters. That was a good sign, but they still have a lot of winter left to survive. We remain cautiously optimistic and we’ll know more when I inspect the hive in early February. Bee school resumes in February and orders for new colonies are on the March to-do list.
So that’s the update from Wittbrich Acres to start off 2025. We received many gifts and notes from new neighbors, clients, friends and family. We are so grateful! Among my new reading materials are subscriptions to Mary Jane’s Farm and Chickens periodicals, as well as a vintage copy of the book “The Egg and I,” a gift from a long-time client. I have a new easy-to-set mouse traps, powerful headlamps, a wire clamp set to mend my many fences, and a host of other practical and fun gifts. When it’s time to relax I have wonderful new bath items and cozy bedwear to wrap me in comfort and help me relax after a long day of hard work. The tangible and intangible gifts of 2024 will be as greatly treasured as they are appreciated.
We hope that each of you had a wonderful, peaceful and happy holiday and welcomed 2025 in a place of well-being. Keep the notes, ideas, suggestions and comments coming. I appreciate every one of them!
