It’s fun identifying which of our chickens have laid their egg each day:
Hallam Chronicles Posts
There is a fierce debate in our home on the right kind of mustard to use on a burger. Dijon is the right kind. That is all.
Leave a CommentWhen it comes to Covid-19, it can be hard to discern the truth between the never-ending daily news briefings and the unending avalanche of conspiracy theories.
When measuring the cases, the beginning of the third wave is obvious:
But when measuring deaths, the curve is suspiciously flat:
In the past few months, the case count has been used as a leading indicator of another wave of deaths. But this wave is now three weeks old, and the death counts are still dropping. One explanation might be the (single dose) vaccination of some six million Canadians — mostly seniors:
If this trend continues, it’s hard to see how the government can continue to justify ongoing lockdowns, mask mandates, and social distancing. To all politicians: you have a unique opportunity to squash the conspiracy theories and restore trust with all Canadians by shifting away from the narrative of fear. Case counts alone are insufficient without deaths.
Shall we give it two more weeks — for real this time?
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Far too much time has passed since our last family update. I suspect many of you have found this year as disruptive to your normal routines as we have.
While God, Himself, does not change, we certainly have since our last family photoshoot! A big thanks to our friends here on the island for helping capture this snapshot of our lives.
Hershey. Cocoa. Lindor. Rolo. Chocolates? Yes, but also the names of the various dogs Charity and her family owned in her youth.
Since meeting a breeder last year from Nova Scotia, we have been inching towards purchasing a dog for ourselves — specifically, a Chesapeake Bay Retriever. Earlier this year we paid a deposit against a litter for pickup in April. We began to speak in code around the children: “We need to plan our chocolate run.” “Have you heard from the chocolatier?” Our pup was born on February 28th.
Then came covid-19. And provincial border restrictions. While we had no trouble ordering everything we needed for the puppy from critterspet.com, it seemed impossible to get to the little guy. Charity and I resigned to the possibility that it may be months out, or simply never happen at all.
I had been working with the breeder through various options when I got an email on April 24th: there was a window of opportunity to deliver the pup to the Confederation Bridge! I decided to keep the news of this opportunity to myself and surprise both Charity and the children. If it fell through, it would be one fewer disappointment.
Our breeder wanted to deliver that Tuesday, April 28th — but we found ourselves in a mandatory 14-day quarantine that prohibited our leaving the property. Why?
Some months back, we made plans with close friends selling their home in another province to move this way to stay with us for a season. In light of covid-19, this was obviously not the ideal time to move: we weren’t even sure they would be allowed to enter the province. Their successful arrival at our home in mid-April was nothing but an act of God — and a great story for another time.
Unfortunately, we all had to hunker down for 14 days after their arrival, precluding us from meeting the breeder at the bridge. Fortunately, we are blessed with many incredible friends already on the island, one of whom kindly agreed to pick up the pup on our behalf and deliver him to our home.
How to explain to Charity why these friends were swinging by? As it turns out, we were running low on goats milk during our isolation, and I asked them if they would be willing to deliver that at the same time. We codenamed the plan, “Operation Chocolate Milk”.
It was a stunning success.
We’ve spent the last two weeks acclimatizing to the latest addition to our family, but everyone is in love with “Professor Friedrich Bhaer” (named after a character from Little Women). Of course, we go about calling the little guy “Bear”.
And then there were 7!
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For the past several weeks, we have observed an unusual number of seagulls (and eagles) in the area. At first, we thought the slowdown from Covid-19 had driven the seagulls inland from some other source of food. It actually turns out that the West river is full of smelt! If you look carefully, you can see just how densely packed these fish are in the river:
Just before the Conservation Officers shut down fishing access to the river as part of increased social distancing measures, we were able to catch some for ourselves!
But the most exciting part was yet to come! While I fought back slightly queasy feelings at the idea of killing, cleaning, and eating a creature I had just caught, the children had little hesitation getting their hands dirty while we FaceTimed with Pappa.
After chopping off their heads and tails, gutting their insides, and soaking them in milk overnight, we coated them with batter and fried them up for lunch the next day:
I confess that while the food was delicious, it was still a touch unsettling to have only recently held these creatures alive in my hands. Seeing their spines on the pan didn’t help!
I’m grateful that my children will grow up with a unique perspective on the matter!
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Winter is tough. It always seems to be either wet, cold, or downright frigid. Sickness is always around the corner. Overcast and shorter days make summer feel so very far away.
It’s so very easy to feel depressed. Sometimes it’s just coping with the little, day-to-day tasks. Other times, it hits you like a fully loaded transport truck doing 160km/h down the highway! Your whole world appears to be shattered beyond any hope of repair.
February was a tough month. Christopher’s beloved hen, Violet, died unexpectedly. It happened that Jesse fed the hens that evening as we came home from piano lessons. Many tears were shed with Christopher over this loss. Understanding this pain, a kind friend gave Christopher one of her own, older hens as a replacement. We named her Amber Rose, and it seemed like a recovery was in order.
Jesse and I had made arrangements to travel to the Bahamas together as part of his annual work conference. It had been over 10 years since we travelled together without our children, and needless to say: we were both looking forward to the trip! Close friends volunteered to care for our children, and I worked feverishly to plan, pack, and handoff our school schedule for the week. (Ambleside Online is a terrific resource, but it’s a ton of work to teach someone else to take over for three different years of Charlotte Mason-style studies!) Let’s just say, this mamma was looking forward to a wee holiday, even though I hadn’t a clue what I was going to do with myself for the first few days with Jesse in meetings 😉
Five days prior to our departure, the boys become ill: fever, diarrhea, and some vomiting. It seemed like our plans were unravelling. But then their symptoms began to clear up. Our dear friends still offered to take them — risk of sickness and all! Could we still go?
During that same week, the temperatures dipped below -30 (no need for a scale to disambiguate at that temperature). Once again, Jesse was feeding the chickens, and this time discovered Flower and Amber Rose dead. Tulip seemed to be near death herself, but we nurtured her back to health by wrapping her in a blanket and setting her near the pellet stove. (Thank you, James Harriott!) We sought to ease Christopher’s newfound sorrows, but without shielding him from the reality of life with animals. Nature can be a harsh teacher.
The day prior to our planned departure, Anne caught whatever the boys had had. Even though I trusted our friends to care for Anne through this sickness, I simply was not comfortable leaving her in that state. We made the last-minute decision for Jesse to go by himself.
Tulip died the very next day. It was like she had given up the will to live. It felt like so much loss in such a short time. To add insult to injury, two days after Jesse departed, all symptoms of the sickness vanished and everyone felt perfectly well. To say I felt a little gypped at the missed opportunity would be an understatement.
Tears are welling in my eyes as I write this. I don’t fully understand why God prevented us from travelling together. But I do know that He never stopped providing. He sent friends to encourage me and family in Christ to build me up. He reminded me that:
… My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness …
2 Corinthians 12:9
Jesse and I both had to hold on to God tightly through this time. Not because we were apart — I’m used to being home with the children through his many work trips. Rather we had both set our hearts on going together and reconnecting without the day-to-day responsibilities. But it all fell through. We both felt a deep loss, and frankly a fallen countenance. Yet I was reminded of what Scripture says,
Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.
Proverbs 3:5-6
This disappointment was tough. Yet in the hardship, we found encouragement by relying on God’s goodness. He is indeed able to bear every burden. (Psalm 55:22, Matthew 11;28-29, Philippians 4:6-7)
We praise God for His blessings despite the circumstances. Instead of having to bear the cost of an unused flight ticket, we found ourselves able to cancel my ticket, reschedule Jesse’s ticket to come home earlier, and cancel our extended hotel stay with a full refund — praise the LORD! I admit to not “feeling” grateful at the time, but looking back: what a blessing!
Two days after celebrating Jesse’s return, we received a phone call that his Pappa had died unexpectedly while wintering in Jamaica. This newfound sadness was compounded by the knowledge that Pappa had actively rejected Jesus Christ throughout his life.
Since his passing, we have found ourselves surprised, saddened, and downright confounded. And we find our potential travel plans to attend his funeral frustrated by none other than this Covid-19 virus. Yet God is good, and allows nothing into our lives that does not work together according to His will.
On the bright side, time change has begun — though the change should be altogether abolished in my humble opinion! With the sunshine starting “earlier”, and the days getting longer, the depression that is winter seems to be thawing.
The long and the short of my tale is this: trouble can seem to be everywhere, and loss and depression can take hold of us unexpectedly. But when these doubts and fears arise, I must choose to look to God and simply cry,
Leave a Comment… Thy will be done, in earth as it is in heaven.
Matthew 6:10
Soon after arriving home from our trip to Ontario in October, we picked up our hens from friends who had kindly looked after them for us along with their own. Christopher had so been looking forward to reuniting with his hens, and expressed much joy and delight to have them again!
We took the opportunity to grow our flock of three Bard Plymouth Rocks — named Flower, Tulip, & Violet:
to include two Ameraucanas. Meet Daisy (white) and Iris (black), each hatched in the spring of 2019.
Iris will probably lay light blue or green eggs, and Daisy the usual brown. Christopher has wanted a hen that lays blue eggs ever since receiving one in our our very first dozen eggs purchased on the island.
Our first blue egg back in June
In addition to Iris and Daisy, we adopted two older hens. Christopher named the Rhode Island Red hen Poppy, and the black hen of unknown breed Lily. Unfortunately, we never got a photo of these two.
With the winter fast approaching we decided it was a good time to move our hens from their outdoor run into the shed to shelter from the elements. The shed had already been used for this in the past, having a small door by which the hens could wander outdoors, weather permitting.
But with the tools and other supplies in the shed, we needed an inside door to isolate the hens! At first, we used a large cardboard box to keep the doorway blocked off. It worked — sort of — but we often found the hens outside their assigned area. It had to be easy for Christopher to use as he kept up the chores of feeding and watering our feathered ladies.
So, Christopher and Mommy took to getting a plan in place and a door made. It became a sort of handcraft for the term, with his learning how to draw a blueprint with proper measurements, and then follow the blueprint in building the door.
We had previously received a pallet of pellets, and decided to reuse the wood for this project. A trip to Home Depot and some chicken wire and hardware was everything we needed to get going!
Christopher worked to disassembled one side of the pallet. With only a little help required, he used a crowbar and hammer to loosen and lift the boards, and then removed the nails. Anne got involved with the project and helped as well.
After long hours over several days, Christopher was ready to move on to cutting two side braces for the sides of the door. Mamma used the circular and chop saws to help here. Measuring twice, cutting once, and finally assembling, Christopher put it all together! I could see his timidity with using the power tools fade as he gained experience.
Out for a dry fit!
Dry fit
Back to the workshop to add the cross bar, chickenwire, and hardware:
She’s done! 
She fits! 
Anne’s tools of mass destruction
It’s not a perfect match to our blueprint, as we decided to eliminate the brace bars given the strength of the pallet boards… or maybe becaue Christopher was “so tired” of the project.
We’re so proud of Christopher’s determination and willingness to work hard to make a safe place for his hens. He’s looking forward to future opportunities to use the power tools in building things for his hens!
Now, back to the hens themselves.
The pecking order was established quite quickly: Violet ruled the roost, and then came Tulip, Flower, Poppy, Lily, Iris and Daisy. But we began to observe that our youngest hens — Iris and Daisy — were quite literally been hen pecked by everyone else. Lily and Poppy, though, were particularly brutal, as they seemed to be mean spirited about the whole thing.
We made sure they had enough space while feeding to avoid crowding, but still Poppy and Lily would attack Iris and Daisy. We even tried holding them in different places during feeding to keep them apart, but the pecking continued well afterwards.
Maybe it just needed more than a week for everyone to settle in, so we decided to try holding out. But one Saturday morning Anne came running into the house frantic and saying, “Iris is bleeding!! She has blood down her beak and on her comb!” Mamma and Christopher ran out quickly.
Sure enough: Iris’s comb was bleeding, courtesy of Lily and Poppy. Christopher was so upset.
We took Iris inside and wrapped her in a towel to help keep her calm and immobile. We used a cold compress to stop the bleeding — doing this multiple times that day — all the while googling to figure out what in the world we were supposed to be doing.
We learned that the best thing to do was to separate the “bad hens”, as Alfred and Christopher had started to call them. While waiting for Iris’s comb to heal before bringing them back, we identified Lily as the primary aggressor. Even with twice the space and just one other hen, Lily had plucked the feathers off of Poppy’s neck and would chase her away from their feed and water.
We decided to return the two adopted hens to their owners. There really wasn’t much sadness saying goodbye to those hens, even though we knew they’d end up as broth soon after!
Since reducing our flock back to five, Iris’s comb has healed completely, and we haven’t had an issue with our Plymouths and Ameraucanas. Christopher is looking forward to the spring and the longer daylight hours and the first of hopefully many more eggs this year.
Moral of the story? We’re likely to avoid older hens as we continue to grow our flock.
Leave a CommentOnce again, we sit down to capture another month of blessings. Perhaps once things settle down, we can write about specific events in more detail, but this is another “catch-up” kind of post.
On October 7, Anne completed her first cross-country track and field event, placing 70th out of about 200 girls in running 1.5km. She had been building strength for several weeks with a number of other homeschoolers in anticipation of this public school event. We’re so grateful for homeschooling veterans and their years of investment into our island community.
The children enjoyed a much deserved milkshake to celebrate the accomplishment after a rainy morning!
Our Canadian Thanksgiving began with an unusually early morning: taking Molasses and Lambchop to a local butcher. From the beginning of this shepherding adventure, our children fully understood the end goal: to harvest the animals for meat. While we worried about the potential for emotional attachment, Anne surprised us one day by declaring, “I’m tired of Lambchop headbutting me all the time. I hope we get to eat him.”
Despite not having “proper farm equipment”, we found our Honda Odyssey suitable transport for two 100+lb sheep!
While we waited for the animals to be butchered, we celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving with our close friends, the Stiff Family! Moving to Prince Edward Island alongside this dear family has been a tremendous encouragement and help. We give God the glory for the doors He opened to bring us here.
Several days after thanksgiving, we received the harvest and enjoyed a “Meat and Greet” event with the family with whom we shared ownership of the lambs. The evening concluded with dessert — from apples we picked the day prior — and a competitive game of Rook. It still astonishes us to reflect on God’s goodness in putting into our lives new friends with whom we share so much in common, and who challenge us to love the LORD by their faithful example.
If you’re wondering: no, we haven’t actually tried the lamb yet! We hurriedly packed the meat into the freezer, and then spent most of the next day packing our belongings for a return trip to Waterloo, Ontario.
Our primary goal in returning was to spend time with friends and family in remembering the passing of Jesse’s mom one year ago. We also managed to squeeze in l’HaRMas, a Charlotte Mason homeschooling conference; Men of Honour, an annual men’s conference run by First Baptist Church; Harvestfest, an indoor alternative to trick-or-treating; and a dentist cleaning — and unexpected cavity filling. Poor Alfred, but he handled it like a champ!!
As we make our way home, we regret not having been able to visit everyone we know and love. To those we could not see in person: know that we love you, and value your prayers tremendously. Please continue to stay in touch!
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