Little House in the City

Little House in the City

Sunday, September 25, 2011

The Tour de Coops

Before I swear not to talk chicken anymore (OK.  We all know that's a lie.  How about "not talk chicken for a few weeks?"), I have to say:

The TOUR de COOPS was an AMAZING event.  Thank you to all of the folks involved!  Believe it or not, over 500 people registered at Broad Ripple Park for this tour!  Jason & I can't wait to do this again next year.



I guess that I didn't have a firmly-fashioned vision of how the Tour would unfold, but I never dreamed we would be as busy as we were.  We didn't keep count, but my guess is that we saw a few hundred tourists that afternoon.  Especially since Rocky Ripple is a bit farther west than most of the other stops on the tour, I had no idea that we would have such a crowd.  In fact, since we were #9 on the suggested route everyone received upon registering, we figured that we would have to wait a while for our first tourists to show up.

Um, nope.  At precisely 2:01PM, while I was dashing to print signs to help direct the traffic flow in and out of the backyard, the first car pulled up.  I had thought that I would still change clothes/make sure my hair wasn't a completely crazed mess, etc., and at the very least I had intended to set up some water and cups for thirsty bikers.



Instead, I jumped right in to talking about all-things-chicken, while walking people around the backyard, the outdoor run, the coop inside the garage...and I didn't stop until 6PM.  I saw Jason out of the corner of my eye doing the same--he was almost hoarse by the end of the afternoon. It doesn't help, of course that both of us are talkers, yet honestly every time I finished and said goodbye to one person or group, I would turn and run directly into someone new.

I know that a few of the people who were hosting other stops along the way had to field all of the tourists on their own--in this I was extremely fortunate to have not only the Red Rooster himself--my darlin' Jason, but also my younger sister Christiana, her boyfriend Josh, and my older sisters Marti and Julie here as witnesses, tour guides, and general helpers. 


The best part of the whole day, though, were all of the great people that we met, most of whom had very thoughtful questions and were obviously having a fantastic afternoon.  We heard, several times, someone say something along the lines of, "This is great--we have so many good ideas now.  We can do this ourselves!"  And, really, isn't that the point of the whole thing?  We are so proud and happy to be a part of spreading the word:  backyard chickens are something that anyone can do!

Here are a few more of our favorite pictures:
























































Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Chicken Mania

Well, folks, it is almost time.  Hard to believe that September 18th is looming large on my horizon--and yet here we are, just about ready to put the 14th to bed.  (Ack!)

Time for what, you ask?  Why the Tour de Coops, of course!  Over 200 hundred people, largely on bicycles, coming to meet my chickens and see how we've set up our flock accommodations.  For those of you who already get it, that last sentence won't sound strange...for the rest of you--well, you really need to hug a chicken.  Then it should all become clear.  [Ramona says that you can hug her, if you'd like; just make sure to bring treats.]

This is going to be a short post, I'm afraid.  If I had everything cleaned, weeded, organized, painted, washed (quit digging in the compost, ladies), sorted, pruned, and arranged, then I would post pictures all over here to show off. 

As it is, I have only one bit of business in a show-off state--the picnic table that Jason & I built this week.  We are very pleased with this massive structure, and are currently having fun imagining all of the meals we will share with friends, outside under our beautiful hackberry, in the years to come.





All told, this probably cost us around $40 to build--and most of that was spent on the shellac we used to seal the wood.  The lumber was free, the plans were free, and we had the necessary tools already.  If only I could build for myself all of the items that I covet at the garden and hardware stores!

So, at least when the hordes of chicken fans come clamoring through the gate this weekend...we will have a snazzy table for them to sit at.  :)

There is one interesting bit of business--aside from the table (and the messy garage)--in the following picture:


Those white panels in the back, on the left, are the future (i.e., before the 18th) roof of the girls' outdoor pen.  I had primed the plywood panels and left them to dry in this picture.  Now, however, they are being decoratively painted by my dear little preschoolers at Meridian Street Preschool Cooperative.  I love the way that all of these different aspects of my life are coming together.  Modern art by four-year-old gardeners, famous chickens...tomato, tomahto.  The urban homesteader takes it all in her stride!

Once the roof art is complete, then all I have left to do is:

-seal and assemble said roof
-clean and organize the garage (again)
-clean and paint the coop
-weed the mulch around the yard, so that the mulch is visibly brown, rather than green
-do *something* about the flower bed that I supposedly protected from the chickens with my quaint little stick fence (where the hussies continue to dust bathe and crush all of the flowers.)
-do something with the woodpile/truck camper-top/stacks of windows-waiting-to-become-a-greenhouse arranged around the garage with a distinctly "hillybilly" feel
-did I mention weeding?

Oh good grief.  Time for a medicinal glass of wine on the couch.  Wish me luck.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Queen of the Suds (oh dear)

"It is said that Roman women 'discovered' soap some 3000 years ago by accident when they were washing sacred stones after an animal sacrifice.  The combination of fat, water, and ashes from the sacrificial fire created a crude soapy substance."

-Folk Wisdom for a Natural Home, Beverly Pagram, 1997, Trafalgar Square Publishing, North Pomfret, VT.

The first time I read the above passage, it didn't seem terribly illuminating...or even rather likely.  As if such a precise chemical process as saponification could happen--ooops, how handy!--while scrubbing off some dirty stones.  Those of you who have never been mildly obsessed with the idea of making soap may not know the term saponification, and I didn't either until recently.  I knew that soap-making entailed the use of lye, that lye was a nasty, dangerous substance, and that there was heat involved.  In short, I had this vision of me cackling over a cauldron of poisonous fumes shortly before I burned the crap out of myself.

Back over here in reality, saponification is as follows:  it is a chemical reaction that occurs when fat (which is acidic) reacts with a strong alkali--in particular, sodium hydroxide which, when mixed with water, is called lye.  The reaction is a chemical transformation; you are left with neither lye nor fat nor any of their characteristics, but instead an entirely new product called soap.  The tricky part is that the whole shebang is caustic as hell--and requires proper levels of heat for each ingredient while mixing, not to mention the fact that sodium hydroxide, upon mixing with water, gets very hot and can make like a volcano all over the place--a lot of possible operator error for a newbie.

My opening quote continues:  "Traditional soap-making, utilizing as it does spluttering fat (many folk recipes from Europe, America, and Australia incorporate tallow, suet, and 'breakfast grease') plus caustic lye--an alkaline solution made by water dripping through wood ash, is a dangerous operation."

If I didn't want to make soap so badly, I'd want nothing to do with it.

However, the more I read about soap making--and in particular, the more I review the chapter on making a batch of blender soap (!) in my new favorite DIY book Making It:  Radical Home Ec for a Post-Consumer World--the more I am convinced that the Roman tale is probably correct.  Just the right combination, in fact, of heat, fat, lye, water, and agitation.  Fortunately, in Making It, I have a more detailed recipe, one that doesn't involve "spluttering fat" glopping all over.

Not much you can do about the lye, though.

SO!  Ready for soap-making 101?  I am!  

OK.  First:  we are not going to be using animal fat this time around (but I do not deny that I have several cans of old bacon grease tucked away for a rainy day.  I know, ew, right?)  Instead, we are making bars of castile soap, which has come to mean any soap made with vegetable oils.  In this case, we are making the original, Spanish version of castile soap, using only olive oil.  But leave your extra virgin stuff for eating, and use just regular ol' olive oil which will work better in soap-making.


If you want to have fragrance to your soaps, use essential oils.  They are expensive, and you may decide that unscented soap is just fine, since this recipe takes an entire teaspoon if you want to have a discernible fragrance in the finished product.  This first time, I am going to try adding scent to see how long it lasts and decide whether I think it is worth it for future batches.  I am using about 1/2 tsp of lavender, and then the remaining 1/2 tsp a mixture of sweet orange and a few drops of cedarwood.  Yum.

Finally, lye.  You can find it at a hardware store under chemical drain cleaners.  The only ingredient should be sodium hydroxide--if the ingredients aren't listed, beware.  You do not want to grab a can of Mr Plumber and start a science experiment.  The one I found said "100% lye" on it, which simplified matters--look for that, or "100% sodium hydroxide."  If you cannot find any locally, there are soap-making sites online where you can purchase it.



Now, hear ye for the disclaimer real quick like:  I don't think you would really want to just jump full-length into soap-making immediately after reading this post--I'm entirely new to the process myself and learning as I go.  I recommend getting a good handbook on soap-making from the library (or getting Making It) and using far more experienced folks as your guides.  However, this is how it worked for me....

Equipment & general prep

First, make sure you have a good kitchen scale (one that has the "tare" function where you can zero-out the weight of a container.)  You will want to measure the ingredients by weight, not volume, for better precision.   Second, you need a heat-proof container in which to mix the lye crystals and water; I used a mason canning jar.  You will need gloves and protective goggles with an elastic strap (think high school chemistry class).  Wrap-around glasses are not enough--they need to be splash-proof, and held tightly against your face like a snorkeling mask.  Wear old clothes with long sleeves and pants, closed-toe shoes...better safe than sorry.  Tie your hair back.  Sequester children and pets in another location.  Have access to great ventilation for the lye-mixing part--or better yet, do that outside.

And, of course you need a blender, which can be your regular kitchen blender (everything cleans up nicely) or one dedicated to soap-making.  A long-handled spoon--not aluminum.  Finally, you need a mold for your soap.  While there are all sorts of fancy ones to buy, the easiest & cheapest is to save a paper milk carton--either half-gallon size or quart size.  Open the top of the carton fully, wash thoroughly, and let dry.

Ingredients


2 oz. lye
6 oz. filtered water
16 oz. olive oil
1 tsp. essential oil (optional)

Method

Put on gloves and goggles.  Put a small bowl on the scale, press the tare button and wait for the scale to read "zero."  Slowly and carefully measure 2 oz of the sodium hydroxide (lye) into the bowl.  Set aside.  Put the empty mason jar (or other heat-proof container) on the scale and zero out the weight.  Pour in 6 oz of filtered water.  Take the water, bowl of lye crystals, and the long handled spoon outside or to an area with an exhaust fan/open window.  Very carefully, pour the lye into the water and stir to dissolve the crystals--DO NOT pour the water onto the lye, which can cause a volcano of burning, caustic lye all over the place.  The mixture will look cloudy and immediately heat up to 180 degrees, so use extreme caution.  Once the crystals are dissolved, let the lye cool and settle for 5-10 minutes (making sure curious pets and children can't access it).

In the meantime, place a larger container on the scale, zero the weight, and measure 16 oz of olive oil (not extra virgin).  If you are using essential oils, measure out the teaspoon of oil into a small container.  Check to make sure that your blender is put together correctly--rubber gasket in place, everything screwed together firmly.  Pour the olive oil into the blender & plug it in.  Have the essential oil next to the blender, ready, along with the long handled spoon, something to rest the spoon on in between uses, and an old kitchen towel.

Once the lye has started to cool and look less cloudy, make sure you are wearing your gloves and goggles.  Do the next fews steps in calm, smooth succession:  first, slowly and carefully pour the lye mixture into the blender.  Put on the blender lid, then put the kitchen towel on top of the lid for good measure.  Hold down the towel/lid with one hand.  With the other, turn the blender on to its lowest speed for ten seconds, then stop the blender.  Wait for the contents to settle, then remove the towel & lid and dip in the spoon.  The mixture should be very liquid and runny.  Replace the lid & towel and continue to process at the lowest speed for 30 seconds at a time, checking the consistency of the mixture in between.

You are looking for a consistency called "trace"--which means that when you dip in the spoon and dribble some back on the surface, it doesn't immediately disappear back into the mixture, but starts to leave a "trace" behind on the surface.  In other words, you find the mixture starting to change from very liquid toward a more pudding-like consistency.  When this change starts to happen, you have very little time before the mixture will become too thick to pour, so as soon as you notice a thickening, pour in your essential oil (if using) and pulse a few more times to mix--then immediately remove the blender carafe from the base and pour the mixture into your mold.  If it is already too thick to pour, scoop it out of the blender with a spatula and smooth it into the mold as best you can.  This mixture will still be caustic--use care.  The entire blending process will be done within a five-minute time period.

Fold up the top flaps of the milk carton and clip or tape it shut.  The mixture will still be hot, so carefully put the mold somewhere that it can rest for a day or so without being bothered.

To clean up your blender and other equipment, run a sink of hot, soapy water.  Keep your gloves and goggles on, and use the spoon or a spatula to remove and throw away as much of the mixture from the items to be washed as you can.  Wash everything in the soapy water and rinse thoroughly.  If you will be using these items for regular cooking, it might be smart to wash them a second time.  Let dry.



Check your soap after 24 hours to see if it has become solid.  Open the lid and reach in with a finger to see if the surface is still sticky--if it is, let the soap cool and solidify for another day and recheck.  Soaps made of different types of fats and oils will harden with greater or lesser speed, and castile soap can take several days.  Once it is as solid as chilled butter, peel away the carton carefully.  Slice your soap with a sharp knife into the size bars you prefer.



You can use a vegetable peeler to bevel the edges if you like.  The soap will have a consistency similar to American cheese at this point.  Let the soap continue to dry and harden for four weeks--resting somewhere out of the way with plenty of air flow, and covered lightly with a cloth.  The longer you let the soap cure, the harder it will become and the longer the bar will last once you begin to use it.



TA DA!  I just made soap!  How fun is this?  While I can see that there are many opportunities for spills and burns, I think that as long as you do not rush and pay very close attention to what you are doing, there is no reason for a catastrophe to happen.  Reading through the instructions in whatever guide you choose is also important--in fact, I would read them through from start to finish multiple times so that you are very familiar with how the process moves from one step to the next.  Do not underestimate the heat and nasty fumes of the lye--I would really try to mix the lye outside if possible and make sure to stand up-wind of the container while you are mixing it.

Other than that, the biggest challenge is now waiting a month to use this gorgeous, creamy looking soap!  If I like this as well as I think that I will, I know what I'm doing for Christmas presents this year....

One last tidbit:  while perusing soap-making manuals after finishing this blender batch, I keep reading passages that refer to genuine castile soap (100% olive oil soap, which is what this recipe creates) as very tricky to make.   Well, la dee dah!   Apparently the blender method takes a difficult but desirable soap and renders it simple.  How cool is that?  Pure olive oil soap is extremely mild and rich, with less lather than modern commercial soap, but suitable for body and hair and anyone with sensitive skin.