Turkey Damage (or, why I don't let my chickens free-range)

Do you remember in the Little House on the Prairie book (this might be the one on Plum Creek), when Pa planted a huge field of wheat? He planted the wheat, it came up beautifully, he knew he was going to get a huge sum of money when he sold it, so he borrowed against the wheat crop to buy the lumber to build the family a new house. He buys fancy milled lumber on credit and builds this huge (by their terms) two-story house and everyone is happy and then....

... the locusts come.

The locusts descend on the wheat field and they eat it down to the ground. There's not a speck left. The family is devastated. Pa has to leave home to go find work in order to pay off the debt, leaving Ma with a farm, livestock, and three children (and maybe a baby? I can't remember) to take care of all by herself. It's horrible.

I must have read this book 25 times when I was young, and I read it aloud to both my kids, but the thing that I remember most about this part is how Pa would just stand at the window of the house looking out. No expression on his face, just looking out at the millions of locusts, eating up all his hard work and all his profits, leaving him in debt. Total despair.

Now, the good news is, our turkey damage is absolutely NOTHING like this! But I actually thought of this scene when I went out yesterday and found the turkey in the peppers for the twentieth time and I couldn't do anything but stand there and look at the damage. Peppers that I've nurtured from seed since January, getting torn apart by this damn bird who doesn't belong in our yard. A bird that was likely being raised by someone, who for some reason couldn't take care of it anymore and released it in to the wild to fend for itself.

This sort of helpless feeling is the same one I had when I'd walk out and see deer damage, before we fixed the fence. And I've been oh so smug. And the turkey doesn't care a whit for our fence. Turkeys in the wild like to roost 40 feet up in a tree. A domesticated turkey like this one likes to roost 20 feet up. Our little seven foot fence is nothing to her. 

She comes in to our yard from all angles. She flies over from the neighbors yards. She flies over from the street. She comes in at the South side and at the North side, though she definitely prefers the North side since that's where the chickens are. Easy pickings, those bits of seed that the chickens have flung out of their coop with their scratching. Or maybe it's that she's looking for her kin. Turkeys don't like to be alone, and this one is very alone. Which used to make me feel sorry for it. 

But I don't anymore. I'm done with this turkey. I want to catch this turkey and turn it in to dinner. This turkey is decimating squash, corn, potatoes. She has denuded the sunflowers and torn out pepper leaves. I've had it.

Sunflowers

Sunflowers

A pepper, half the size it used to be

A pepper, half the size it used to be

potatoes

potatoes

Tom and I got out the PVC arches and the row covers last night, and covered up the peppers so that as least that's a bit of a deterrant. I have burgeoning basil in those beds too, so I didn't want the turkey to get in there again as she also digs and scratches, of course, and finds and eats the seeds.

This is working fine, at least today, but it's not a long-term solution. It's the wrong time for row covers, the peppers want the sun and heat, and it reduces airflow inside which isn't great in the summer. But hopefully it will keep her out for now. 

This, my friends, is why I don't let my chickens free-range. They would do this damage all over my garden. I can't tell you how much I agonize, keeping the chickens inside their coop, wanting to let them go free free free. But it just wouldn't work, unless I totally caged off all my raised beds. And side beds. And containers. You see the issue.

Meanwhile, that turkey is not long for this world. I'm allowed by law to take it by bow and arrow (I don't have one of those lying around. Does anyone?) or net. Net is the answer. Then I just have to screw up my courage and kill her. I've never done this before. I'm not sure I can. 

I've posted notes on our neighborhood website, I've called animal control and the wildlife museum, there's no help out there. We don't have room for the kind of coop a turkey would need, plus she wouldn't like to be alone, so we'd have to get more turkeys. We can't put her in with the chickens because chickens can give turkeys diseases. Plus the coop is the wrong size. Plus the chickens are terrified of the turkey and press themselves in a clump in the corner anytime she is around. 

Which is ALL THE TIME. Mostly early and late in the day, she always comes looking. Every 15 minutes, we are chasing her out the yard and down the street. Why isn't our neighborhood coyote getting her? What about the bobcat someone spotted two blocks down? I just keep hoping one day she won't show up and the problem will be solved.

And she's a beautiful bird. This is just unfortunate all around.

Seedpods, Fruit, and a Shaker Peg Rail

I've been on a seed saving spree. (Say that five times fast!) I've always tried to save some seed from our annual flowers, but this year I'm really enjoying finding new seeds to save. If I can put a dent in our yearly seed budget, that would be delightful! And of course it is a more sustainable practice than buying every year, and it has the benefit of a zero carbon footprint. 

Today I cut, dried, and saved Love-in-a-Mist (or Nigella). (I must say something about these photos. I used, as always, my phone (iPhone 6). I zoomed in quite a lot. Please please please forgive all the detail of my very dirty, work-hardened hands. Please concentrate on the seedpods, not my yucky fingers. Next time I will figure out a way to photograph with a piece of construction paper behind the desired item.)

a slightly squashed seed pod

a slightly squashed seed pod

From the top looking in, you can see the seeds. Isn't this seedpod lovely?

From the top looking in, you can see the seeds. Isn't this seedpod lovely?

With the top pulled off

With the top pulled off

The seeds inside

The seeds inside

Here's a California Poppy. Not quite so lovely. But then this is a hardscrabble flower, meant to survive severe drought and still bloom. It can't afford to have a nice balloon shape. It makes me think of the word 'sere.' 

Here's one still closed, not dry enough to pop open yet

Here's one still closed, not dry enough to pop open yet

and here's one sprung open, the seeds all in a row

and here's one sprung open, the seeds all in a row

I also collected quite a few nasturtium seeds. I use nasturtium everywhere in both the flower and vegetable beds, as it attracts beneficial insects (and hummingbirds) and repels the ones I don't want anywhere near my delicious veg. Saving these seeds will help me an awful lot in future.

They tend to grow in a group of three

They tend to grow in a group of three

These will dry and harden further, then they'll be ready to plant. 

These will dry and harden further, then they'll be ready to plant. 

And this year we finally have enough Forget-me-Nots to collect some seed. These seeds are the annoying kind that inspired the inventor of Velcro.

sticky, but beautiful

sticky, but beautiful

Today (and this whole week) has been enormously hot, so the routine has been: go out to the garden for an hour, then come inside and drink a gallon of hibiscus iced tea, then go outside for an hour, then come inside and have a little lie-down under a fan. I have to say the fruit just loves the heat and is bursting out everywhere. The plums are just a couple of days from eating, as are the peaches, and the tomatoes are clustered all along the stems of the plants.

This is a Santa Rosa plum we planted a year ago, last Spring. We have three plums on the tree this year, which I call a success. They are gorgeous and I can't wait to eat them.

This is a Santa Rosa plum we planted a year ago, last Spring. We have three plums on the tree this year, which I call a success. They are gorgeous and I can't wait to eat them.

The peaches are numerous and glorious. We have dreams of frozen peaches for smoothies, peaches for pie, peaches to eat out-of-hand, and of course peach jam. About three times a day we go out and squeeze them, or see if they come off easily in our ha…

The peaches are numerous and glorious. We have dreams of frozen peaches for smoothies, peaches for pie, peaches to eat out-of-hand, and of course peach jam. About three times a day we go out and squeeze them, or see if they come off easily in our hand. That will be our cue to start eating. We must stay ahead of the squirrels and birds, though we have so many, we can share.

Tomatoes. Can't wait.

We have slicers, paste, and cherry tomatoes all rivaling to be the first ones ready to eat. I'm trying new things with growing tomatoes this year, and I'll write about that in a different post. So far, I really like where things are headed.

We have slicers, paste, and cherry tomatoes all rivaling to be the first ones ready to eat. I'm trying new things with growing tomatoes this year, and I'll write about that in a different post. So far, I really like where things are headed.

Something else hot weather brings out, and they're not as welcome as the fruit, are flies. Gosh they are annoying. But today I noticed flies pollinating both a yarrow and the cilantro, so they're not all bad.

And oh my goodness the cilantro is just a hotbed of activity, I noticed 8 different kinds of pollinators on it at one time today. This is absolutely one of those crops you should let bolt and go to seed. Pollinators really seem to love this kind of flower - an umbel - and cilantro is another one of those flowers that attracts the good guys and repels the bad guys. 

Our garlic harvest was so robust this year that I asked my father to make us another hanging rail for the braids. We have four pegs on our canning shelf, and those are occupied by two garlic braids, a mesh bag of shallots, and a mesh bag of fingerling potatoes. I had six more braids of garlic, and we really don't want to try to fit everything on those four pegs because we need to increase the airflow around the produce if we want it to last longer. So Dad made us a Shaker Peg Rail, and it looks nice in a dark corner by the piano.

Two more pictures to share. I bought a Humboldt Lily at the Watershed Nursery back on Mother's Day, and it's blooming. Spectacular. Why didn't I get more of these?

This is California's drought-tolerant answer to the Leopard Lily

This is California's drought-tolerant answer to the Leopard Lily

And I just love the way this Scabiosa atropurpurea 'Scarlet' (pincushion flower) looks as it builds up to bloom.

Isn't that something?

Isn't that something?

Hope you're all having a marvelous weekend!