The Art of Blowing a Ptarmigan Stomach

Well you asked for it and I finally have a good internet connection to do this post.

John goes Ptarmigan hunting pretty much whenever he gets a chance and we eat a lot of ptarmigan. Ptarmigan are weird birds, they have feed like rabbits all furry and warm looking, and they change colors with the season. Ptarmigan mostly eat pussy willow buds, so you can almost always find them in the willows eating away. 

These birds have a "storage stomach" so when they eat it goes into this storage stomach to be stored for when they actually NEED the food. Elders say that when you get Ptarmigan with really full storage stomach's it is going to get stormy because they prepare by eating a lot of buds and storing them for when they cannot go out into the storm to eat. All birds have these stomach's but Ptarmigan's can get really BIG.  As you can see from the above photo there is two ways into the stomach, an enterance from the mouth and an exit to the actual stomach of the bird. This is how you blow them up:

FIRST, you need a good man to go hunting for you and to NOT shoot thru these stomachs, they are right below the head between the breast meat.  You need a good man to pluck the ptarmigan in the feild when it is a lot easier to do while the blood is still warm. (this helps by me not having to do it so I have more motivation to blow the stomach's out. :D) 

When you start to skin the Ptarmigan you should do it from this spot first, so you have less of a chance to cut or rip the VERY thin membrane.You should be very careful to slowly pull this stomach out from in between the breast meat, gently  tug while it separates from the rest of the body. Cut it off the bird and make sure you leave enough so that you can tie it off. Get yourself one of those cheap bendy straws from the store, and slit the bottom of it so it can fit into a narrower space. Then you tie off one end and put the straw in the other end. I usually have John hold it for me because its hard to do on your own. 

You blow the straw until it cannot hold any more air, then you tie it off with dental floss and tie the two ends together and hang until it dries. Elders say that having these hang in your house is good luck. They are very cool when they dry out, you can shake it and the buds in the inside are like a rattle. Since there are no stomach acids or any digestive juices in this they smell VERY GOOD, like willow buds in the spring time.

 

This one was a big one, full of buds.

Here is a close up shot of all the buds in the inside of the storage stomach.

Tundra Chicks, ptarmigan?

"Aren't tundra chicks; ptarmigan?" No, I answered. Tundra chickens are, not tundra chicks! :) So is the name of my Chicken Coop, Tundra Chicks. I came up with the name one morning laying around my house with my dog, it was sunny and she was eating nuvivaks (flys) off the window. I wanted to have a good name for my Chickens to be known as, and I think Tundra Chicks does the job.

It all started with one fresh egg. My dad had talked to me about a person who he doesn't really know but has chickens that lay these cool different colored eggs and Red the post man gives him a dozen here and there... I asked about the chickens and my dad didn't give me an answer that I was happy with so I googled it. :) I came up with a plethora of answers, chickens laying all colors of eggs at all seasons of the year.

I never had a chicken in my life but as my parents know me to be I probably could have kept it well and for years longer than the guesstimated life span. I am an animal person, someone who animals just are a magnet to and I am to them. I've been up to my arm pits in dog shit my whole life, literally. I remember walking around my grandparents dog yard in Sisaulik with puppies in my atiqluk pockets and bottles made for the puppies out of old Tylenol bottles, the ones with the droppers. A huge influence on my love of animals was my Ahna, who was always yelling at the dogs but loved them dearly. She would sit in the evening with her dog Pinky in the sunset and smell of the ocean and talk her about her day and what she did, what Doc (her husband and my grandfather) came home with to cut up or to cook that day. I think when I saw that growing up I wanted to be that person, and older native lady, no white hair, sitting on the porch of her old falling apart house 12 miles from any kind of civilization, talking to a dog and being totally content with that.

Of course the love of Dogs wont equal the love that Chickens give or receive. You can pet a dog and hold it in your lap while it contently sits there with eyes closing and nodding off. Chickens on the other had aren't as lovable but I think I can handle that. :)

So I came up with I think is a great idea, why not have a chicken coop that produces eggs all year round for the residents of Kotzebue? I could maybe make a few bucks, of course after paying off all the feed and little pooper scoopers I plan on hiring. I can also and more importantly give the chance to the residents of Kotzebue to eat a fresh egg. I can tell you the first time I ate a fresh egg and what I thought of it but its boring and nobody really cares... haha. All I can say is that it is much better than what AC has to offer.

I started just asking around town about left over building supplies and I picked up some great crates from Sandy Huss, whom I am indebted to some fresh eggs when the chickens do start laying. I also picked up some random pieces off the road and here and there. I think I have acquired enough to build a 8x8x8 coop. I might change it to 8x8x6 just for some insulation reasons but I think I can pull off what I originally want. So this is where I stand, crates in front of my parents house, no chickens yet, and waiting on Calvin and Sonia to come home to tell me how much more wood I need...