Lessons learned harvesting my first goose.

Let me start with how it all went down. 

I didn’t mean to name the geese but, like an earwig that burrows into your brain, the name Bruce the Goose was named in my mind, even if I didn’t say it out loud. I later named the other goose, Bradshaw after Nick “Goose” Bradshaw from Top Gun.

I invited my son-n-law, Noah and my nephew, Zane (13) over to help. Noah Brought his brother Ethan and Zane brought his friend (whose name escapes me).

The first thing I did was to catch Bradshaw and place him in a cage inside the house. I didn’t want him to watch.

Then we caught Bruce and placed him in an old duffel bag like I had read on Homesteadingguide.com. This turned out to be excellent advice. It calmed Bruce down and helped to make the whole harvest more relaxing.

As I mentioned in an early blog, I had bought a 16.5” meat clever to do the deed with. I made sure it was razor sharp. We also made a chopping block out of six scrap 4x4’s and placed it on a saw horse.

I had intended on placing a string around the birds neck but decided not to because I was worried it might stress it out. I should have used the string.

Once everyone was ready, I gave Zane the camera and had him record it. Since I couldn’t find an instructional video - I will use the footage to make an instructional video later this year.

With Ethan holding the bag, I unzipped it just enough to allow Bruce to peak out.

I removed my hat – it just felt like I should.

Then Bruce, of his own accord, laid his head out across the block (see the picture). That’s when I did it.

The chop severed Bruce’s spine but I left about a quarter of his neck intact. Blood sprayed out and we let the bag fall to the ground.

With his spine severed, I know Bruce wasn’t in pain but it took about a minute for him to stop moving. In the video, you can hear a sad death grown about five or six times – I didn’t notice the sound in real time.

I had been very stressed about killing the bird but when it was over, I felt completely normal. I realized that Bruce was no different than the other birds I had bought from the store over the years – I was just more involved this time.

“I’m not afraid of death; I just don’t want to be there when it happens.” – Woody Allen

So what did I learn?

1. The duffel bag is a great way to kill a goose. It calmed the goose down and it calmed me down.
2. Use a string! If I had tied a string on Bruce’s neck, then I wouldn’t have rushed my chop and I would have cut his head clear off.
3. Cutting the head off removes just as much blood as slicing the throat. Countless videos said that if you cut the head off, the heart would stop pumping out the blood. This was not the case with Bruce. The blood sprayed out and when I cleaned him, there was almost zero blood inside of him.
4. Fatten up the goose. I wanted Bruce’s last days to be as happy as possible but allowing him to free range kept him from putting on any weight. Bruce was the skinniest bird I have ever cooked. In fact, he was barely an appetizer.
5. Get a young goose. Not that I had the option, as geese are really hard to find. But Bruce was older and his meat was so tough that I LITERALLY broke a sweat carving him on Christmas.

All and all, this was a good experience and I will definitely harvest more birds in the future. I’m not sure I will harvest a Christmas goose again but only because I made a turducken from scratch that came out much better (so that may be our new Christmas tradition).

Lastly, this is my first blog of 2019. Since I got so much traffic last year, I have moved to WordPress. I will continue to post the same blog on both Honeyhomestead.blog and Thebunglingbeekeeper.blogspot.com for now. However, I encourage you all to become followers on the honeyhomestead.blog site.

11 Days Until I Murder The Christmas Goose... Maybe?

When I get home from work, I go outside and watch them - it feels perverse. Like I should tell them to rub the lotion on their skin or something.

"Killing is not so easy as the innocent believe." - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

I've said it once but I want to be clear - I've hunted animals before... this is different. It hasn't exactly kept me up at night but with a 45-yo bladder, I think about it all nine times I get up to pee each night.

To make matters worse, my back has been out since I bought them (though I am starting to feel better today). Nonetheless, the constant nagging water-torture like pain has made me an emotional basket case and a real douche to live with (sorry, Jen).

I bought a 16.5"/2.5lbs Meat Cleaver to do the deed. Is this how Dexter Morgan feels?

Then there's the other goose. Will it have survivor guilt. Will it pine for it's little friend. Then I think, maybe I should kill them both, that way neither one will miss the other. Is that psychopath thinking? "I'll kill you... I kill all your friends too just for knowing you!"

Maybe at the last minute I'll flinch... or maybe I'll go through with it and Jen will finding crying in the floor of the shower.

What if it looks at me?

"It's a nice day, Lennie. Go ahead and take off your hat."
"Okay, George. Are we going to have rabbits on the farm, George?"
"Sure, Lennie. Now look out across the river and imagine how it will be."
"Just me and you, George?"
"Sure, Lennie. Just you and me." BANG!

11 Days to go. Tick-tock, Clarice.

13 days Until I Murder the Goose (warning: explicit language)

The reason I bought two geese was so I could kill the mean one for Christmas (which ever that one turned out to be) and still keep the other as a guard-goose for my chickens.

However, on releasing the geese into my backyard, all hell broke loose. My chickens hauled ass in every direction and only came back when I physically carried them back to their coop.

The geese (who had been very quiet up until now) began squawking at about 120 decibels running in circles.

My dog didn't know whether to chase them or hide... hell even the cat got loose and made a b-line for the neighbor's yard. Thank God I'm not raising emu's.

I put food and water in the enclosure and took my dog inside to allow everything a chance to calm the hell down. However, as night fell the two geese just stood in the center of the backyard. The temperature was dropping into the 20's and I began to think that I might not have to kill the birds after all... since they were going to freeze to death anyway.

Jen and I decided we should just put the geese into their enclosure. So I calmly walked them into a corner (I was calm, the geese were freaking the hell out). When I finally caught the goose, it immediately calmed down and became as docile as a puppy... A PUPPY!

However, the other goose (for the first time) became aggressive and spread it's wings and hissed at me to put his friend down. (note: these geese came from a flock of 40 but have somehow already become compatriots). It occurred to me, that I am not just going to kill a goose... I'm going to kill a goose who has a F***ING FRIEND! I started think of that scene from pulp fiction:

Jules: I don't eat dog either.
Vincent: Ah, so by that rational, if a pig had a better personality, he would cease to be a filthy animal. Is that true?
Jules: Well we'd have to be talkin' about one charming mother f***ing pig. I mean he'd have to be ten times more charmin' than that Arnold on Green Acres, you know what I'm sayin'?

I took the goose in hand and shoved it into the enclosure... but it ran right back out.

Let's try that again.

I caught the other goose and it became super calm too... these bastards know exactly what their doing!

Jen offered to hold that goose so I could catch the other one.

SIDE NOTE: the reason I have never bread my amazing German Short-haired Pointer (as originally intended) is because I know if my wife ever played with the puppies, I would end up with a house full of dogs.

So I handed her the goose but warned her not to pet it... and damn sure don't look it in the eye!

I then grabbed the other one, whom resumed his cuddly demeanor - the prick!

Then we tossed them both inside the enclosure and covered the entrance.

I obviously began having second thoughts about the upcoming dinner. However, since I can't keep two loud ass geese in my backyard and if I sell them they will still suffer the same fate, one of the those geese is still going to be on the Christmas table.

That was the end of day two.

2018 First Inspection of Spring

"In winter, I plot and plan. In spring, I move." - Henry Rollins

Is there anything more daunting than the first hive inspections of spring? This was the harshest winter since I started keeping bees. Yet, I am happy to report that I only lost one hive. It was the VSH Hive that was full of drones at the end of fall - of course it was expected. What was not expected was how much honey is in my hives.

The VSH hive still had several frames of honey but was being robbed by the other bees, so I took the 20 frames of wax and honey and divided them between the surviving hives.

On hives A, B, C.1, and B.1: I added a super with five frames of wax/honey and five unwaxed plastic frames. I didn't want to give them too much comb to defend against wax moths and beetles.

Hive-C and Hive-B.1.1 were both very healthy but still had some empty frames. So I replaced the empty frames with waxed ones.

At home, I moved the fence surrounding my bee yard and, in doing so, doubled the area to about 30'x60'. I plan to move my chickens into this area as soon as it dries up a little - as well as some bees.

The Plan:

The plan is to make a lot of splits this year. The question is, when to start? The weather looks warm and favorable but there is still the Easter cold snap to consider. Nonetheless, as soon as I see drones, I will begin the splits.

I also plan to do hive removals this year to help increase my apiary size.

The Goal:

100 Hives by winter. It's a lofty goal but that's how many I need. The remaining 7-hives will most likely split into 28-hives. The rest will have to come from the bee removals. I, of course, realize the flaw of my goal - but "a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what is heaven for?" -Robert Browning. 

Given how much honey is in my hives after this long harsh winter, I am confident, that I only need one super per hive to survive next winter. I actually feel excited by the thought.

Hive Count: 7-Hives

Predator-Proofing my Chicken Tractor

"Regard it as just as desirable to build a chicken house as to build a cathedral," Frank Lloyd Wright

My first three months of chicken husbandry was a lot more work than it needed to be. Taking the chickens outside every day and carrying them back inside every night was a hassle and quite time consuming. Thankfully that is behind me.

It took nearly three months to get around to it but I finally finished my chicken tractor. The original chicken tractor was done months ago but I wanted mine to be more predator-proof. So last Wednesday, despite being run down from two weeks of long office hours, I got a second wind and four hours later, it was done.

The extra step was to attach out-rigging to the base of the pen to prevent predators from digging under the edges. I think this is a pretty good idea.

I expected that lifting the out-rigging during moves would be an issue and had planned for an elaborate pulley system. Luckily the out-rigging doesn't cause any issues at all. I attached the pull rope to the front rigging so it lifts automatically. The two sides stay in the out position as the back edge never looses contact with the ground. And the tail end (that is identical to the front) just slides along as I pull. It works GREAT!

Chain link hinges

One problem I did have was that hinges are expensive. Not so much individually but I needed eight of them and that began to add up quickly. So (and I think this is one of my best ideas ever) I used links of chain instead. I simply took an old chain and cut sections of three links per hinge. Then I screwed them in place with washers (which I just happen to have exactly the right amount of in my scrap bucket - not that they cost much).

The out-rigging was made out of four pressure treated 2x4x10' that I ripped down the center. My coup is 4x8, so the extra two foot of left over was used as the end pieces of the sides. The front and end is 6' tapering to 4' (truthfully, this happened because I meant to use 2x4x12' but it turned out to look great). The final diagonal bits were constructed out of scrap I had from the original coup build.

Upside-down
showing the wheels engaged

Time will tell if my chicken tractor is truly predator-proof. However, I think this is great solution that only added $30 more to my overall cost. The best part is that now it only takes me about two minutes to feed, water, and move my chickens each afternoon.

I also attached some wheels that I haven't used since the night I first put them on. The tractor is light enough that I really don't need them.

So that's my predator-proof chicken tractor. Leave a comment and let me know what you think.

What if my alpacas get flees and other insane thoughts

“It is always darkest just before the day dawneth.” Thomas Fuller, circa 1650

I woke up at 3:30am and my first thought was, “What if my alpacas get flees?” It would be a reasonable question… If I had alpacas!

It all started partly because my wife is afraid that opossums will eat our beloved chickens. In turn, for the past 2 or 3 months, every morning I am forced to hump the chickens out to their pen and every night I have to drag them back in to the brooder. Mind you, the chickens are fully grown.

So I researched chickens and that led me to Justin Rhodes’s farm video tour, who did a video about a family that raised sheep, to get the wool, to spin the yarn, to knit the hats… In The House That Jack Built.

That sounded really interesting, so on a whim I looked up wool and that led me to alpacas who turn out to be great guard animals for… wait for it… chickens!

We won’t be getting alpacas. I live in town and the bees and the chickens are already pushing the limits of the city ordinances. I give the neighbors honey (and eggs when they start laying) but not a lot of people would be swayed with the gift of an alpaca fleece. However, one day when we buy a place in the country… well… who knows.

Here in the real world:

Noah and I visited both of the apiaries Saturday and all the bees are doing well. I also added an empty super of freshly waxed frames to Hive-B.1.1 - that gives all the hives two deep supers at Dr. D's.

I harvested a deep super of honey from the old farm. The odd thing was that there were supersedure queen cells in that hive – though they seemed a little old and there was still plenty of brood. I think it's okay.

I’ll still need to winterize the hives this month but for now, it is still in the 80’s and the goldenrod is in bloom.

Final Count – 8 hives.

Chickens: 107F Heat Index

This weekend was hotter than midget porn - 95͒ F and 60% Humidity.

Summer in the Mississippi Delta is like nowhere else on earth.  It's hard to say what is more demeaning; the way my sweat soaked shirt clings to my chest or how my testicles cling to my knee. Yeah, it's that hot.

Despite the heat, I did manage to build my chicken tractor. It's double wrapped with chicken wire to prevent predators from chewing through. I still need to build a roost inside and add some out rigging to prevent opossums from digging under but the hard part is done.

My wife has fallen in love with our chickens and doesn't want to put them outside but it's getting to hard to keep their cage clean enough to keep them in the backroom. So for now, they will be outside in the pen during the day and in the backroom at night. However, in a week or three, the chickens will have to go outside full-time.

Part 2 of 3 - Beetles, Chickens, and Mead

"What is best in life?" 

"Crush your enemies. See them driven before you. Hear the lamentations of their women." - Conan the Barbarian, 1982

Clockwise: Amelia Egghart, Bernice, Melba, Marsala,
and Spot is off camera. 

Part-2: The Chickens and the Beetles:

I like my chickens and my wife loves them but I have questioned my decision to get them since the day I bought them. Not because they are not a joy to own - they really are. But because I bought them to eat beetles yet they will not be big enough to go outside until bee season is over.

However, when the beetles infested my new split, Noah had a capital idea. "Why don't we feed them to the chickens." And so we did!

It was like throwing my enemies to the lions. The larva infestation was epic but my minions feasted on those unholy spawns like a pack of Velociraptors on tar-pit trapped Brontosaurus. Jen, Noah, and I all stood cage-side, watching the carnage with gleaming eyes of satisfaction. Though it was inaudible, I like to believe that the beetle larva were wailing as they were being devoured and I hoped that somewhere in my bee yard, a tiny tear was rolling down the face of a mother beetle.