I had a dozen pears in the fruit drawer of my refrigerator. They’re from a local orchard, which means they’ve got flavor – unlike the supermarket pears that are all superficial good looks. I wanted to use them in something special. Perhaps a pear tarte. But, of course, I didn’t get around to it. Meanwhile, my special pears ripened, and then got splotchy. So, yesterday, despite being tired and cold and rushed, I decided that I had to use them before they became chicken feed.

I quartered and cored them, and cut off the bruised spots. I put them in a baking dish (no greasing necessary.) I drizzled on some grade B maple syrup (more flavorful than the A) and sprinkled on some brown sugar. I dusted a couple of tablespoons of ground hazelnut flour on top. I get this from my favorite baking supply source, King Arthur Flour. (Sorry for introducing you – shopping there will become addictive!) Nut flour is my idea of a convenience food. Cooking short-cuts don’t have to come with a Pillsbury label. Dot with 2 teaspoons (that’s all!) of good, salted butter. Bake at 375 degrees for a half hour until soft.

Last night I had the pears, warm, with ginger ice cream. Today I had them with yogurt for breakfast. This is all that is left:

At least as good as a tarte.

I’m sure that at some point Columbus Day celebrated Columbus. Now it’s a shopping day. There are sales at the mall, but I’m not there. This is where I went:

I got a pitchfork, a manure shovel, a bag of laying hen feed and pasture seed. The goats have done such a thorough job ridding a corner of the back meadow of brambles and golden rod, that I’m able to reseed with a timothy/alfalfa mix. I’m pleased, but they’d rather have me plant weeds and thorny brush!

This morning there was frost on the grass. It’s the first “hard frost” of the season. It’s warmed up, and it’s supposed to be above freezing, though rainy, for the rest of the week. Still, I went out and pulled up half of my parsnips. Last year I left them in so long that they were frozen solid in the garden and I couldn’t harvest them until spring. I’ve got a hankering for roasted parsnips and carrots for dinner. Leftovers will be frozen and used for soup this winter. It’s definitely a change of seasons!

Eggers is looking much better! She’s in a crate in my kitchen, and seems quite pleased with the accommodations. She’s bright-eyed. She’s hungry. Manure is normal. No more blood. Perhaps she passed a broken egg and it cut her? Just a guess.

In any event, she’ll be on antibiotics for a week. The usual way to medicate a chicken is by dissolving the antibiotic powder in water, and then putting it in the barn’s waterer. When a contagious bug is going around, this is an efficient way to treat all of your birds at one time.  I don’t want to treat everyone, which is one reason to keep Eggers separate from the flock. However, although Eggers seems to like the doted-on life indoors, but I’m eager to get her back out! I might end up dosing her with the medicated water, using a syringe intended for giving human babies cough medicine. If I do that twice a day, I’m sure she’ll get the medicine in her. It’s a bit of a chore – but better than cleaning out the crate in the kitchen!

I’ve been keeping an eye on Eggers. Two days ago she was the last one out of the coop in the morning, which is most unlike her. Yesterday she was the first to go to bed. Sometimes it’s those subtle clues that let you know that an animal isn’t feeling well. But, with no other symptoms, I left her alone.

Today, she looked like this:

Eggers is on the compost pile, in the corner of the yard – the warmest, least windy spot. Her eyes are closed, her wings and tail droop. This is a sick bird.

It’s a cold, windy, damp day today. I immediately brought her inside the house. Warmth is the first thing that a sick hen needs. Next, I gave her a thorough inspection. Her vent area was messy and there was a spot of blood. This makes me think that she doesn’t just have a respiratory ailment, but that she has an internal problem. Besides, if she had a contagious cold, the other chickens would also be showing symptoms by now. Usually illness fells an entire flock.

I also looked for signs of external parasites. When a hen is sick, she can’t dust bathe, and so gets lice. It’s a clear indication that she hasn’t been well for awhile. Eggers was clean. That’s good. It means this ailment is new. Maybe I caught it in time.

The next step was to bathe Eggers using some antiseptic shampoo I have for my dog. I want her clean, so that if she does have a runny/bloody vent, I’ll be able to notice it immediately. But, a wet hen is really susceptible to illness and so she had to be dried. My hair is short and I don’t use a blow dryer. But I own one for situations like this. Eggers wanted to perch on my shoulder for the duration.

It takes a long time to blow dry a chicken. At one point she closed her eyes and napped.

I then dosed her with epsom salts diluted in water. And then dosed her with a general chicken antibiotic (bought at the Agway.) She’ll be on antibiotics for a week, given in her drinking water. While she’s being medicated, Eggers will be living in a dog crate in the laundry room.

I’ll keep you posted.

I’ve blogged about this before, but it’s worth doing again. Look at what I collected the other day!

A standard USDA Large egg weighs two ounces. The egg to the top left, laid by Agnes, is 2 1/4. Her sister, Philomena, laid the whopper at the top right. 3 1/2 ounces! Sometimes, these duck-sized eggs have two yolks, but not this one. It was normal inside. Huge, but normal. And, I might add, delicious. The little white egg was laid by Eggers. Only 1 1/2 ounces. Also yummy.

The pointy egg to the bottom right was laid by Marge. She’s an elderly, 6-year old hen. She lays only one egg a week. It’s a standard two ounces, but you’d never find one like that in the market. It’s so long that the carton can’t be closed. Eggs from commodity producers do sometimes look like this, but they’re sorted out, processed, and turned into “egg product.”

Supermarket shoppers expect and want eggs of identical appearance. Not me. It’s much more fun to eat eggs that reflect the personalities of the hens that laid them. Not to mention, far tastier.