The Sunday Steep #5: Is safety really the best policy?

What my free-range chickens are teaching me about human flourishing. Plus: goat meatballs, displaying embroidery and my favorite tea decanter.

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Hi friends,

A few weeks ago, sitting on my perch in the living room that overlooks the chicken coop down the hill, I heard a squawking kerfuffle and knew one of my hens was in trouble. Running out to the back deck, I saw that Harriet, one of my barred rock hens and the friendliest and most curious of the flock, was under attack: flopping and flapping her wings, desperately trying to escape the clutches of a large hawk while her terrified sisters ran for cover.

“HEY!” I shouted, and the hawk let go and flapped away into a nearby tree. I tore back through the house, running out the front door and down the hill, but by the time I got down to the coop, neither hawk nor hen were in sight. A few minutes later I found poor Harriet’s lifeless body, a heap of beautiful barred feathers, in the thicker trees behind the compost pile.

I was heartsick, especially after doing a headcount on the chickens (now cowering in the coop) and realizing she hadn’t been the only one who’d been lost that day—probably to the same hawk. I sadly latched the door to their run, accepting that I would have to figure out some ways to reduce the threat before I could feel okay about letting them free range again.

A few days after the flock went into forced lockdown, we humans left for the college drop-off trip in which I sprained my ankle. For the first two weeks I couldn’t visit the chickens at all, so rethinking their cooped-up (ha, ha) status wasn’t really possible.

But while I’m still not up to navigating the hill down to their coop, over the last week I’ve been able to take over some of their care again by driving through the yard and right up to their front door.

Yesterday, while refilling their feed, I left the gate to the run ajar. While my back was turned, our four big black hens made a run for it, pushing the gate open and heading for the treeline. The younger chickens quickly followed suit, scattering in twos and threes into the brush and eagerly devouring everything in their path.

Limping about on a still-healing ankle, I definitely was in no position to chase them back into the run (I ask, have you ever tried to chase a chicken?) Instead, I shrugged my shoulders and headed back to the house, peering anxiously down at them every thirty minutes or so from the deck, then returning at dusk - when they return on their own to nest - to close them back in safely for the night. The afternoon and evening went off without a hitch. I saw and heard no hawks.

So the next day, I let them out again.

Living out their entire lives inside a coop and a 16’ X 8’ run is far from the worst fate a flock of chickens could face. There are plenty who live their entire lives in much more crowded conditions. My girls were certainly not easy hawk food while locked up, protected inside a steel pen with a roof and a layer of hardware cloth for reinforcement. They seemed content enough in there. And at least they were safe.

And yet I also know there is something lost in penning them in. I know enough about chickens to see the difference in their behavior (not to mention the quality of their eggs) when they are allowed to scratch for bugs and eat grasses and explore. I am hesitant to assign human emotions to a chicken, but chickens, given the chance to express their full chicken-ness, just seem, well, happier. A freer life may, in the end, wind up being a shorter life - but on the balance, it’s also a better life.

We all struggle, sometimes, in finding the balance between safety and freedom. Certainly I’ve experienced this tension as a mother (as I’ve joked before, parenting teens always feels like a hot stove). The choices I made as a younger mom weren’t always in line with the often-suffocating “safety first!” mentality of the early 00s and 2010s.

Now, with my kids mostly grown, it’s hard to tell whether the current parenting-culture pendulum is finally swinging back toward reason or still edging toward security at any cost. I hope it’s swinging back, for our kids and all of us.

My kids aren’t chickens (I’m not one either, turns out.) Yet our animal natures still struggle between two conflicting desires: safety and freedom. This tension impacts every choice I make: in my career, in my creative pursuits, in my marriage, in the way I speak to my kids about their choices. Choices made to prioritize short-term safety often lead to long-term consequences, no matter how well-intentioned or even necessary. And sometimes those consequences can be worse than the thing from which we’re trying to protect ourselves, our offspring, or even our furry and feathered friends.

Of course, I’ll do what I can - within reason - to keep any animals or humans in my care safe. But we’re here on Earth for a larger reason than to simply stay out of danger, and I pray I don’t forget to heed how Aslan is described in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe: not safe, but good. Because safe isn’t always good, good isn’t always safe, and whether we’re talking about children or chickens, safety, I’d argue, is not always the best policy.

Food for thought as we head into a new week, full of many choices that seem to pit responsibility, reason, and the desire for security against possibility, flourishing and the fullness of the human experience. What experiences might we be open to, if we weren’t first concerned with playing it safe?

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Speaking of chickens…

We’re finally getting eggs daily! All three of these came from our initial flock of “Easter Egger” hens that we acquired in April (the younger flock that we got in May aren’t quite old enough to lay yet, but I expect them to start within the next few weeks.)

These four tend to hang out together, and three of them have funny little tufts on the sides of their faces that remind me of the bushy sideburns belonging to genteel men of a bygone era - so I’ve been simply calling them “The Parliament.”

Seriously, zoom in on those faces and you’ll see what I mean!

Easter Eggers are a mixed-breed chicken bred for their colorful eggs, but while the eggs can come in a variety of shades, any one hen will lay the same color eggs throughout her life. I’m getting eggs in a light tan/brown, sage green, gray-blue, and an olive green - so all four of my Easter Egger hens are laying a different-colored egg, which I love.

My younger, not-yet-laying chicks are Americanas, another mutt chicken that can lay blue, brown, or green eggs. I’m already clapping my hands with delight at the veritable rainbow of eggs in my future!

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In my cup…

When Eric had to go back to work a few days after I sprained my ankle, we faced a dilemma: how would I get my tea? I go through at least two cups in quick succession every morning and refill frequently throughout the day. Even though I was able to get myself to the kitchen to brew it, I couldn’t figure out how to carry it back to the sofa on crutches without spilling.

Our solution: a spill-proof, insulated carafe. Before leaving in the morning, Eric started preparing several cups’ worth of tea in this 34 oz carafe and bringing it to me, along with an empty mug, to my perch on the sofa.

The carafe stays warm for hours, and only decants tea when I press the handle - so if I emptied it, I could also hobble to the kitchen and return to the sofa with a refill without worrying about spilling or dribbling along the way.

I’m getting around pretty well now and can carry a mug without spilling at about the same rate I could pre-injury (I’m gonna put that at about 72%) but I’m kind of hooked on the ease of always-warm, at-the-ready, spill-free refills, so I think the carafe has become a permanent part of my typical morning tea routine.

David’s Tea no longer seems to sell the carafe I have, but if you want to copy this idea, this cute little pot would do the trick, or this 50 oz decanter if you go through a lot of hot drinks in a day.

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Goat meat Chevon update…

My project to use up 80 lbs of goat meat is now underway, with my first attempt earlier this week - goat meatballs with lentils. (I skipped the Hoppin’ John and served with plain rice.)

The Verdict: don’t let its brown-on-more-brown color scheme fool you: this is a very flavorful recipe. The goat really holds up to the cilantro and mint, and the Moroccan seasoning gives a lot of depth to the lentil, carrot, and celery base.

However, the preparation (browning in oil, then finishing in the oven) seemed to intensify the flavor in a way something cooked more slowly may not have, so it may not be the best way to introduce goat to a more hesitant palate. Clara did eat it, but wasn’t the biggest fan. I liked it better on day 2 - the flavors seemed to meld and mellow a bit more. Something slow-cooked is next on my goagenda; perhaps a stew. I’ll keep you posted.

By the way, did you know that meat from an adult goat is actually called “chevon” (pronounced CHEV-on, like Evan)? Sounds much more refined than “goat meat”, which for some reason, to me, always feels somewhat lewd to say or write.

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More food chat

Alison Kay of the Ancestral Kitchen Podcast was back on The Tea’s Made podcast this week, sharing how life-changing it has been for her to embrace a slower, more regional way of cooking and eating. She also shares the shopping, cooking, and eating routines that help her stay on top of it all.

And in the most recent episode of The Mom Hour, Sarah and I talked about the “bell curve” of feeding a family as it grows and contracts. Feeding my family looks incredibly different today from the way it did eight years ago, when I had five kids ages 7-18 under my roof!

There’s more food content to come: this week’s episode of The Tea’s Made will be all about what’s happening in my kitchen right now and what I’ve got planned for the fall, from planning and prepping to cooking, baking and preserving. Look for that to drop on Thursday, wherever you listen to podcasts.

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In my hands…

I finished my embroidered cardinal, and love the result - even though it’s messy, imperfect, and the back is a total mess. I have some thoughts about doing things you aren’t particularly good at, which I wrote about on Instagram:

theteasmade

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There’s something to allowing ourselves to be beginners, isn’t there?
To lowering our expectations of ourselves and deciding that, actually, just showing up and enjoying the process is enough.

Now I need to think about how to display it. In the past I’ve done a lot of simple, functional embroidery projects - tea towels, hankies, pillowcases and the like - but this year I’m really wanting to try my hand at some more complex designs that may not hold up as well to washing (especially given my loose and smallish knots) and would probably work better as decoration. So I have to figure out a solution for display: frames? Shadowboxes?

If you’re a stitcher, I’d love to hear how you display your work. And I’ll post a pic of my finished project once I’ve gotten it pressed and mounted!

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Until next time…

I know it’s technically still summer out there, but friends, September is really September-ing around these parts, and that’s meant a flurry of activities both domestic and wild: baking! canning! And, of course, foraging. Our yard is full of treasures, including lots of wild fruit.

meaganfrancis

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I’m hoping this week will bring enough improvement to my ankle that I can get out on the property and find some of these beauties myself. I’ll keep you posted, and don’t forget to keep your eyes peeled for edible freebies in your own backyard.

I also wanted to let you know I’ve put together a short list of brand partners I work with in case you want to check them out - shopping their links is another great way to support my work so I can keep producing this newsletter!

I’m super selective about what brands I’ll work with, which is why the list is so short - they have to be companies I personally love and use. I will be adding to this list as I partner with more companies, but will always keep it selective and transparent.

And a reminder that another great way to support my work is by buying me a pot of tea. I’ll think of you while I sip and write!

As you probably already noticed, I’ve renamed my weekly newsletter and changed its publication day to Sunday. Since I’d like this newsletter to serve as comprehensive a look-back at what I’ve been doing, making, and reflecting on over the past week, I liked the idea of giving myself a bit more time to work on it and allowing it to serve as a cozy weekend scroll for you.

Hopefully it’ll inspire you to make space for some creative projects and quiet moments into your upcoming week, or simply act as a restful opportunity to sit and sip a cup of tea. You can find past editions of The Sunday Steep here.

Cheers, friends.

-Meagan