Fom Hatch to Harvest

Pipping

We did it. After several years of raising chickens for eggs, then adding meat birds to the mix, we finally accomplished a self-sufficiency goal: hatching our own chicken eggs, raising them to adulthood, filling the freezer, and replenishing the laying stock. (Previously our meat birds and new layers were bought as day old chicks from a hatchery.)

It was a sometimes disappointing, but overall exciting process. And I feel so satisfied opening the freezer to see 14 lovely birds, knowing what they were fed, where they lived, and how they were handled.

What a blessing to have the confidence to serve safe, healthy chicken throughout the winter. No recalls. No added yuck. Just pastured, organically fed chicken. Woo hoo!

So, to recapture the process, let me begin at the beginning. Which in our case started with the chicken, not the egg.

We are raising several breeds, trying to find the right mixture of egg layer/meat bird to food conversion ratio. (The most meat and eggs for the least amount of grain food.) Leghorns are fantastic egg layers. But as meat birds they just aren't worth the trouble, averaging out at about 2.5 lbs at 20 weeks. On the other hand, Cornish x Rocks make lots of meat in just a few short weeks, but trying to get them to propagate their own species is a no go...they need to be artificially inseminated. Plus they are just plain gross frankenbirds. (In my opinion.)

For the past two years we have worked with New Hampshire Reds, Barred Plymouth Rocks, and Ameracaunas. So that is what we hatched. (I tried some Leghorn eggs, too, but only had one hatch and grow to adulthood....an Ameracauna Leghorn mixed rooster.)

I'll not go into too much detail about incubation — there's lots of info on the web about incubating eggs. But here are some of the highlights:

I collected the eggs over 8 days, placing them in cartons then putting the cartons in a cooler in my basement. One end of the cooler was propped up on a brick. Two or three times a day I switched the position of the cooler, simulating the rotating that a mama hen would do. Simultaneously, I started up the incubator to get it warmed up and at a consistent temperature.

Emerging

Let me just say that my incubator sucks. It is one of those square styrofoam jobs, about 15 years old. A friend gave it to me, for which I am grateful, but it still sucks. It is hard to regulate the temperature, and there is no humidity gauge. So, I went to my local hardware store and bought a thermometer/humidistat, in addition to using the included mercury-style thermometer.  After a few days the temperature finally hit 99.5 steadily. Time to add the eggs.

The eggs were situated in the egg turner, which is in the incubator. I really didn't want to have to hand turn the eggs several times a day. Mostly because that means opening the incubator, and mine is so hard to regulate. One thing I learned — put the incubator in a place that has a constant temperature. In February my house warms nicely during the day, but gets pretty cold at night, since we use a woodstove. My basement proved to have the steadiest, albeit coolest, temperature.

On day 10 I candled the eggs. (Yes, I had to open the incubator!) I made a homemade candler with a toilet paper tube and a bright Christmas tree bulb. As I candled I marked my observation in a notebook. Any egg I thought was not developing received a penciled "x" across its shell. Everything you read tells you that unfertilized eggs could potentially explode in the incubator, but since I am new at this, I put everything back whether I thought it was growing an embryo or not. (My percentage of "guesses" was about 80% correct...determined at hatch.)

And then I left them alone for 11 more days, just checking to make sure the temp and humidity were ok.

And finally...they hatched. And I left them alone for a day, although I spent many hours just watching.

After removing the chicks to a brooder, I completed the very unpleasant task of opening any unhatched eggs (After leaving them go for another 2 days, just in case.) It was gross work, but I wanted to see 1) how correct I was at candling and 2) what stage the chicks stopped developing so I could adjust whatever was needed.

Cute and Fuzzy

I found that I did a decent job of candling, erring on the side of thinking there was something growing when there was not, rather than thinking it was a dead egg when it was live. I now know that in the future I can remove any eggs that I define as "nothing is growing" without too much fear of throwing out a live egg.

I also learned that the embryos stopped developing at various stages. It seemed that the majority died either right before hatch or in late development but not feathered yet. My research has led me to lots of possible conclusions, but nothing definitive.

After two weeks, the chicks were moved out to the brooder in our garage, where they had much more room to grow. And eventually, as the weather warmed, they were moved to an outdoor coop to fatten up on grass and bugs and yummy (to them) tidbits. At that time, I did a basic evaluation, noting which birds I might want to keep and which would go.

Barred Rocks

I evaluated again at 16 weeks, whittling down the keeper list. It was at this time that I realized the Barred Plymouth Rocks were putting on size faster than the other breeds. After much discussion we decided to get rid of all the New Hampshire Reds. We were starting to have difficulty with the rooster attacking us and his hens. And their laying:food ratio was not as good as the Rocks. I wanted to keep the Leghorns, because they are the best layers; and the Ameracaunas for their lovely blue-green eggs; and the Barred Rocks as they proved the best meat birds of my flock. The Reds could go. (Please note: the particular strains of Rocks and Reds that I have may be different than those of someone else, so their results may be different.)

At 20 weeks we separated out the keepers (5 hens and one rooster) and the remainder were packed up for a road trip to the butcher.

Average weight after dressing was 3.5 pounds, with one 2.5 pounder at the low end and a 7.5 pounder at the high end.

Joad Longshanks, the Ameracauna/Leghorn mix and his Leghorn harem.

Astrophysicist, stunt double, or....micro farmer?

Remember when you were a child and you used to play pretend? Army men, Cowboys and Indians, school, ballerina fairies? Why can't we still pretend like that? Be someone far more exciting than our own selves?

Husband and I recently attended a party near his old hometown on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. As we drove to the party, we mentally tallied the guest list and realized that we would only know one person, the host.

Turning to husband I said," You know what would be fun? Going to a party and pretending to be a completely different person! A whole new persona. We should do that! Who would know?"

Laughing, we decided that husband could be an astrophysicist (He works with a bunch and could probably answer simple questions.) Being covered with noticeable bruises and scratches, from helping a relative move last week, I tossed around BMX racer and a few other rough and tumble, but exciting, professions. Upon arrival we filled in our host; he suggested movie stunt double. And there we were....new personas in place. Ready to make our entrance to society.

As the party progressed and we met new folks, references were made to various movies I had been in and to Husband's importance to the space program. However, somewhere in the middle of the evening my "real" profession was discovered.

But instead of titling myself as housewife/homeschooling mom the words " homeschooling micro farmer" sprouted from my lips. All of a sudden Husband and I were the center of attention.(Very ego boosting I must admit) "Microfarmer? That's so interesting!" "You raise your own meat chickens?" "Do you ship your eggs?" "Where can I get some?" "Can I buy my garlic from you?" "You preserve your own food? That is so awesome."

I'm sure the abundance of adult beverages had some part to play, but people were amazed that we are growing our own food, and have a bit left over to sell. In return I was dumbfounded that people on the Eastern Shore, land of factory chicken farms and roadside cantaloupe and corn stands would be so far removed from their food.

It was a great party. While it was fun being a stunt double for the evening, (thankfully no one asked for a demo) It turned out that I had a much better time being the real me, housewifery and all. We decided that being microfarmers was rather glamorous!

Fat Uglies aka Cornish rocks

"Hey woman, what's up?" "Not much, what's up with you?" "Well, the kids got some chicks for Easter and we just can't keep them all. Do you want them?" Note: two years ago I would have said yes right away. I've learned a little since then. " Hmmmm, what kind are they?" " Oh, I think they're leghorns. My aunt got them for the kids at Tractor Supply." I've learned some, but apparently not enough for this is how I acquired the fat uglies.

They were delivered during a nasty thunderstorm so the men just stashed them in the garage. The next morning, quarantine pen at the ready, I opened the box to find... not 7 leghorns, but 7 Cornish rocks.

Monster birds, fat uglies. I consoled myself with the fact that someone else had spent the time and cash to brood them. I only needed to finish them off and get them in the freezer. (With the help of Amos Lapp at Lapp's Meat Shop.)

Ugh. So why do I despise thee, O Cornish rocks? Thy greedy disposition and lack of heart and hale. Thy smelly presence and gaping maw. I just think they're gross, that's all.

We raised a handful last year, my first time raising meat birds. Along the way I discovered that these birds don't do well in the heat. They won't get up and go get a drink or find shade. They'll die where they are for lack of a drink with a fount not ten feet away.

Their legs give out under the terrific weight of their burgeoning breasts. They live to eat, following you with their greedy eyes like a bad Jesus portrait, mouths gaping...."Feed me Seymour!"

And they smell. When people emphatically state, "Ew! Chickens smell!" I am convinced it's because they've driven by a farm of these noxious birds.

So today, after approximately 10 weeks of loving care, I have delivered my fat uglies to Amos Lapp's shop, open Tues, Friday, and Saturday.

Yes, we could process them ourselves, but for $3 a chicken, Amos and his boys do a great job. I have also found myself to be a bit squeamish. The last time I processed them myself I found that I couldn't eat them. I cooked them, everyone else ate, but I stuck to the veggies at the table. So I guess those birds got the last word that time.

Silk Dyeing Easter Eggs

We have been saving our Leghorn chicken's white eggs for two weeks now. Our other birds lay green-blue eggs, but we wanted the white ones for Easter egg dyeing. We usually do the normal food coloring/vinegar dye bath, with periodic experimentation with a few natural dyes. We always try a few supplemental methods, like using white wax crayons to draw designs, tie dyeing, or making botanical prints. This year, we played with silk dyeing. 

Our first task was to save white eggs. I went to the store thinking to maybe buy a dozen, but they were all marked with little pink date stamps. Each egg. Weird. When did chickens start laying eggs with date stamps? But I wanted to decorate the eggs, so they won't work for me. We only have one Leghorn, so it took awhile to gather a dozen white eggs. 12 days to be exact! Fresh eggs are very hard to peel, but by collecting over two weeks the eggs should be ok to boil and peel.

Second task: gather printed silk items that we don't mind trashing. I have a few silk scarves, but didn't want to ruin them so we headed out to the Salvation Army one Wednesday (1/2 price day). We each selected our "favorite" silk ties from the plethora of choices. It's amazing to think that people really wore some of those things, and no surprise they were donated away...thank you donors! We narrowed it down to a bare handful and headed home with our purchases.

Time to gather supplies!

Raw Eggs

Silk cloth that can be cut up (Note: 100% silk only)

White fabric such as an old sheet or pillowcase

Pot of water

Vinegar

Twist Ties

Scissors

Paper or cloth towels

Tongs

Vegetable Oil (optional)

Now the fun began. Dyeing!

Uncle Fester and his tie collection.

We sorted our ties to examine their colors and patterns, discussing the merits of each and predicting the outcomes of each color.

Each tie was opened up, liner fabric and tags removed.

We cut the fabric to fit around the egg and had to decide if we wanted the twist tie to go at the top or the side. It depends on how your eggs will be displayed. In a carton, put the twist tie at the narrow end. In a bowl on their side, put the twist tie on the long side.

Wrapping the egg tightly, we twisted the tie in place.

When the dozen were all wrapped, we then wrapped each egg in a white piece of fabric and twist tied in place.

Fill a pot with water and add 1/4 c vinegar.

Add the eggs and turn the heat on. We were surprised that the eggs floated, I guess it's the air bubbles in the fabric pouches. So I placed a glass lid on top of the eggs to hold them down.

Wait for the water to boil. Boil gently for 20 minutes.

Remove from water, drain, and cool.

Unwrap and marvel at the beauty!

You can rub a bit of veg oil on each egg to make them shiny, if you want. We didn't because we will save our two favorite eggs and let the insides dry out. (We have eggs from the Boy's Kindergarten years on up.) If you rub them with oil, the moisture can't evaporate. If you wish to save eggs, don't close them up in a carton...let the moisture evaporate! You end up with an egg that rattles like a gourd.

Note: My dear friend Alice tried this method and was rather disappointed. She added more vinegar to her water and said subsequent batches resulted in brighter colors. We'll give that a try next year. Thanks Alice! 

Chicken FAQs: Top Questions I Get Asked About Keeping Chickens

Hen, Rooster, Hen, Rooster, Hen, Rooster, Rooster.

Besides "Is it difficult?", the number one question I get is:

Do you need to keep a rooster?

Of course, they're half the fun! Ok, maybe that's a want. You don't NEED to keep a rooster unless you want fertilized eggs (such as if you want to hatch your own). A hen will lay eggs with or without a rooster around. Roosters are nice to have though, as they offer protection to their ladies in exchange for a little lovin'.

2. How often does a hen lay an egg?

Well, that depends on the age, breed, and general health of the bird. Some breeds are raised specifically for high egg production, such as the Leghorns. Others are raised for meat and eggs, and will lay fewer eggs. With a young Leghorn (1-2 years) you can expect about 250-300 eggs per year. With an Amerecauna you can expect 200-275 eggs per year. Here's a great chart if you want to look up a particular breed.

Chicken shed #2 made from scavenged materials
and stuff left over from other projects.
This houses 5 chickens at the moment.

3. How much space does a chicken need? Do I need a big hen house?

As much as you can give them! You need to provide housing with a 2-5 square feet per bird, maybe more if they're confined all day. I'd recommend giving them some yard, a run, or a pasture to move about on during the day. There's all types of housing, be resourceful and use what you have lying around. We converted an old shed into one house. For another we used salvaged metal siding, bead board, and cement blocks, having only to buy 2x4s. For our pasture shelters we're using 1x3s and salvaged chicken fencing. I've seen converted rabbit hutches, dog kennels, and green houses!

4. Are brown eggs healthier than white eggs?

No, nor do they taste any different. But brown, blue, green, and speckled eggs make for a beautiful breakfast! The shell color is determined by the breed. While colored eggs are no different nutritionally than white eggs, home-raised eggs taste and look much different (better in the opinion of most flocksters and their customers) from supermarket eggs.

5. How do you tell a rooster from a hen?

"Eagle" here is a hen.

By it's crow, silly. Seriously, as chicks, it can be difficult. Some breeds are sex-linked, meaning males will be one color or pattern and the females another. But for most breeds, it's tough to tell those babies apart. You can vent sex them, but it's a skill that requires quite a bit of practice to perfect. As the chicks grow, typically the roosters will get larger combs faster than the hens, their feathers are often more brightly colored and showy, they may be larger than the hens with thicker legs and bigger feet, they often have spurs, and yes, they will eventually start crowing. But, hens can crow, too! According to JD Belanger  (Idiots Guide to Raising Chickens) "This isn't as unusual as it might seem, and is easily explained. Hens have voice boxes, of course. And they're capable of crowing. The only reason they don't is because they don't feel like it. Really.
     "It's a hormonal thing. Older hens, or those that undergo hormone changes because of diseased ovaries or other conditions, can have a decrease in female hormones and an increase in male hormones, and they will often crow." And that was new to me, too.

6. When do they start laying eggs? And what time of day will they lay?

Not soon enough, especially when you're waiting for those very first ones from your very first hens! Depending on the breed, they'll start laying somewhere around 22 weeks of age. I've had them start as early as 5 months and as late as 7. The first eggs may not look all that appetizing. They may be misshapen, too large or small, or even shell-less. It takes a few weeks for some of them to get in the groove. I've had a few that laid double yolked eggs until they caught their rhythm. It takes chickens 26 hours to make an egg. The hens will typically lay in the morning, each day getting a little later, until they eventually are laying in the late afternoon. Then their internal clocks adjust: they skip a day, then start up again, laying in the morning.

Jack Sparrow is, or was, a rooster

7. Do they lay all year long?

Some breeds do, although the rate will typically drop (to possibly no eggs) over the shortest days of the year. You can manipulate the birds by artificially lighting the hen house for a few hours each winter morning. They need about 14 hours of light to lay at the normal rate. I've never done that myself as I prefer my girls to take a much deserved break, but it can be done.

8. Do they need heat in the winter?

Not really. More than heat, they need shelter to get out of the wet and wind. As long as they are kept dry and sheltered, they will do ok in most of the US. Some breeds are better able to tolerate cold, some heat. If you live in a very cold area, you may want to look for a breed that has smaller combs and wattles...less surface area to get frostbitten. Chickens will tend to huddle together and keep warm. If you live in an area that is bitterly cold (Siberia?) you might want to check and see what the experienced flocksters in your area do.

Chicken house #1 and the garden

9. Can I let the chickens roam in my garden?

If you don't want any plants, sure. Chickens are notorious "tillers." They scratch at the ground to get to the goodies. They are great for tilling up a space. It's pretty safe once your plants are grown. But you don't want to let them into a new plot that you've just seeded or planted with seedlings.

10. What about cats/dogs?

Cats don't often bother fully grown chickens, the birds are just too big. And chickens get used to the cats wandering around. Peeps look like dinner though, so make sure to keep them safe until they're older! Dogs, especially other people's dogs, are a different story. You may be able to train your dog to guard the birds, or at least leave them alone, depending on breed and temperament. Dogs running loose will attack chickens just for the fun of it—it's their natural prey instinct. If there's a possibility that a neighbor's dog will come over for a visit, make sure the chickens are well protected.

Bonus question!

Aren't they smelly?

Yes, and no. Chickens poop everywhere, without any regard to anything. But keeping the odor down is manageable. Using a deep litter method in my housing, I partially clean the house out when I need compost or mulch. Other than that I keep adding fresh littler: dry straw, leaves, etc. before it starts to smell. (Don't use fresh weeds or grasses, they have too much nitrogen. You want to use dry, carbonaceous materials) The chickens constantly till it up and break it down making lovely compost. Once a week or so, I take the hay fork and mix the litter up if it doesn't seem to be getting enough action. (Sometimes my birds seem to miss the corners). Good ventilation and dry, deep litter should keep an odor-free home for your girls.

Hatching Chicks

A new classmate

Prior to Jack Sparrow's demise, I collected a few of the girls' eggs that were likely fertilized by him. I really loved his coloring, so thought it might be fun to see if we could get a few baby "Jacks" by hatching them ourselves. It turned out to be much more complicated than I thought it would. 

(Note: I have a really old styrofoam incubator, that doesn't seem to maintain temp very well.)

21 days ago, I brought in 9 eggs and placed them in the incubator. Since the thermostat "seems" to be off, I bought an external thermometer/hygrometer to I could attempt to monitor temperature and humidity. I also picked up an automatic egg turner. Twice a day I headed to the basement to make sure the temp wasn't vacillating too widely, trying to keep an even 99-101 degrees. The basement is where I figured the ambient temperature was least likely to fluctuate. It's always chilly, but not terribly cold down there. The process was not quite a nightmare, but it was difficult. At least I wasn't opening the incubator (releasing heat and moisture) to turn eggs three times a day! Nevertheless, I was constantly tweaking the temp controller.

Having totally forgotten to go down and check on Sunday (due to a very "important" AFC playoff game, which, sadly, we lost), I ran down first thing Monday morning to remove the egg turner. To my surprise, and great disappointment, in myself, one of the eggs had hatched; the poor little chick had fallen upside down in the water in the bottom of the pan. I was in tears. Opening the incubator, I gently removed the tiny, wet body. As I was debating what to do with it, I heard a glorious cheeping from another egg! I turned it over to find that the chick was pipping!

Pipping. No change after 12 hours of watching the egg wiggle then rest, wiggle then rest.

Moving quickly, I removed the eggs from the turner and placed wet paper towels in the bottom of the pan. (No more drowned chicks!) Then I carried the incubator upstairs so we could watch this miracle unfold. So we watched, and watched, and watched. The egg chirped, wiggled, rested, cheeped, wiggled, rested. All day with no progress. I felt like a mama, pacing the floor waiting for labor to start!

After watching the struggle for over 12 hours, I decided to intervene. I researched to make sure intervention wouldn't be more harmful than helpful, then dove in. I heated up a rice filled cloth bag, found a dropper, collected some very warm water and a pair of blunt edged tweezers and went to work. Very carefully placing the egg on the warm rice bag, I used the blunt tweezers to peel back some of the egg shell, leaving the membrane intact. I worked a small "strip" where it looked like our little guy (or girl) had been attempting to chip away the shell. (I peeled about 1/4" strip of eggshell). Then I put a few drops of water on the membrane (to help soften it) and placed the egg back in the incubator.

After "helping" our little chick, we finally saw progress!

 Another hour later, little Puffin kicked his/her way clear of the eggshell. It was so amazing to watch: its little chest heaving as he struggled with his shell, little wet feathers peeking out of the cracks, the tiny egg tooth chipping away. Then suddenly, a flutter, a push, flapping of wings and Puffin was "born." And now we have one adorable baby chick. 

Here he/she comes!

Awkward

About 12 hours old.

After 24 hours, moved to the new "nursery."

Lamenting the death of Jack Sparrow

There are certain events that occur in a lifetime that mark the amazing journey. Recalling our homestead journey, I would probably note growing tomatoes in our tiny Baltimore townhouse plot, the tilling of our first "real" garden, making jam from our own strawberries, enough tomatoes to can, acquiring Bruce and Betty — our first bantam chickens, and raising our first flock of meat chickens as important events. And we now have a new experience to add: culling the flock. Ok, doesn't sound too traumatic or even dramatic, does it? But it has made me feel like a "real" homesteader.

Last spring we purchased a few new chickens for egg production. I also ordered a rooster so we could attempt hatching our own birds. To ensure that we would have a rooster reach maturity, I ordered an extra. Murray McMurray also enclosed an extra chick for added warmth AND a free exotic chick (a black polish crested), both of whom are roosters. Yikes! Four roosters, 7 hens. Not a good ratio. But, I decided to keep them all for the time being, and see how it fared.

One of the roosters we separated out to preside over our wandering flock — our old ladies that have free roam of our property. The other three remained penned in a pasture area, along with 4 hens and the pygmy goats.

Jack Sparrow, an Americauna

Rooster to rooster relationships were just fine, not so much man and rooster. Lovely, spunky Jack Sparrow took his kingship mighty seriously, and the Boy was the first to feel his wrath. How's that for dramatic? Boy was, actually, the first to experience Jack's protective nature — vigorous flapping of wings, pecking at feet (especially those clad in bright blue Crocs), and butting up against his lower legs.  I explained to the Boy that the rooster was just doing his job, that he saw us as a threat. We must be cautious, but patient, and fix the issue.

I've heard of two different approaches to this problem. Well, three, but we'll get to that one in a minute. There's the "I'm not a threat, see I bring gifts of food." approach, getting Mr. Rooster to eat treats from the hand. He eventually learns human = food not threat. Then there's 'the carry a big stick (or a watering hose) "I'm the boss" ' approach. Which basically proves that you are bigger and badder than the rooster, so he backs down. Initially, we opted for the first approach. And it really worked — for me. He trusted me, would come running for treats when he saw me enter his domain. He let me gather the eggs with no problems. But, Jack Sparrow was not going to be fooled by the Boy and Husband. His attacks became a bit more fervent, even when they moved into "I'm the Boss" mode.  When Jack began flying into their faces I knew we needed a new plan, the third option, culling the bird.

I tried to give him away, but the only taker was a family with small kids. Not a good fit, especially if they were male (and/or wore crocs.) So, as a last resort, we took him to one of Husband's coworkers who had no issue with eating him. And I learned the lesson that little Fern resisted in Charlotte's Web. When raising animals on a homestead (as producers, not pets) sometimes the flock (or herd) must be culled.

A young, windblown Jack

Raising Chickens Part 2

Some of our newest flock, roosting ON their new home instead of IN it.

We now have two flocks of egg layers. Our older flock is allowed to explore the entire yard. The second, larger, and younger flock is kept in a fenced pasture that they share with our two pygmy goats, Fern and Petunia. The roaming flock keeps to the yard, rarely venturing beyond our boundaries. The penned flock seems very content to stay in their pen. In addition to our lovely egg layers, this past summer we had a third flock of chickens, which are now tucked into my freezer. Yep, we raised our own meat chickens. 

Along with our layers, we purchased 10 Cornish x Rocks from Murray McMurray Hatchery, to be delivered the 3rd week in May. Within a few weeks they were enormous and in my opinion, ugly. I didn't even take photos they were that ugly. And enormous. Big, slapping feet, stubby little legs, gaping beaks, and supersized chests. I did not like those birds, which made it really easy to take them to the "processor." Whenever I approached their pen, they would chase me down, so desperate were they for their food. They ate a tremendous amount of grain and would just sit all day. No foraging for insects. No exploring. They weren't curious at all. They just got bigger and uglier and smellier by the day. Finally, at 9 weeks, I took them to a local meat processor. 

The night before their demise, Husband and I packed them in a dog crate with some water. Early in the morning I loaded the crate into the back of my SUV and headed off to Lancaster County to the Amish man who would do my dirty work for me...for less than $3 per chicken! So worth it. I have harvested my own chickens once before and three bucks is a very small price to pay. An hour after arriving, Mr. Lapp was loading two coolers full of chicken into my car.

Friends have asked me if it was worth it. Financially? No. I figure each chicken cost me about $18 to buy, raise, and harvest.  That's about $4/lb when dressed out. But, it's not all about the cost. I raised these birds —I know what they ate, what they drank. We tried to give them a happy home...room to roam, clean bedding, food, and water, plenty of sunshine and fresh air.

Would I do it again? Yes, with some changes. Next year I plan on getting a more "natural" breed. Cornish Rocks are bred for super sized breast meat. They can't tolerate heat and after 10 weeks start having leg issues. (Too big to fail does not apply here). I will use a breed that is better on pasture, to reduce the costs of feed. Organic grain is about $30/50lbs in this area, so the less they eat of that the better! I will probably do more than 10, so I can sell a few and recoup some of the cost. One thing I will do the same? Let Mr. Lapp do the processing!

Harvesting chickens

Raising chickens Part 1

We've been raising chickens for eggs for the past 5 or 6 years, and I love it! It all started with a phone call from our favorite librarian who asked if we'd like to have a free rooster and hen, from another library patron. Sure! We'd been thinking of raising chickens. We packed an enormous box punched full of holes and set off to pick them up. Turned out they were bantams, the miniature dogs of the chicken world. Two pint-sized birds.That enormous box must have seemed so silly to the donors! 

After many questions, we loaded up Bruce and Betty and headed for home. We did this so backwards...where were we going to put them. How would I feed and water them? We stopped at the local farm store and picked up some feed, scratch (what we call chicken crack), and a waterer. At the time we had a dilapidated shed on our property that was going unused. Bruce and Betty quickly claimed their roosting spots and settled in. The place was drafty and I was afraid that unwanted critters would have easy access to a tasty, albeit small, chicken dinner. Time for another building project! Within weeks we dismantled the shed from around our two new pets and built the chicken condo behind our garden plot with the scavenged materials.

Those two birds were so lovely to have around. They had free range of our yard by day, and would return every evening to their home. I was so amazed by that! What? I don't have to herd them in every night? No, they do it themselves. Betty turned out to be a great producer of little pink eggs. And that got us started thinking... hmmmm, this is easy, maybe more?

Betty lived for two years with us. Upon her very sad death, I located a local seller and purchased a handful of birds. I knew NOTHING about buying birds and I got totally duped. This man kept them in rabbit hutches and the first thing we noticed upon getting them home was that they were terrified of the space in the chicken condo. They huddled in the corner on the floor. They didn't know how to roost! Bruce soon took over and got most of them to roost, or at least sit in a nesting box. But one little chickie was so enormously fat, she couldn't get up there. It was then I noticed that this bird had a damaged wing. Blanche, as we named her, would come and sit on my feet as soon as I entered the chicken shed. I had quite a tender spot for her. She didn't last long though. She would sit out in the chicken run and sun herself which made for easy pickings by some predator. Ok, now I know why weak birds must be culled. (Nice way of saying "gotten rid of").

Realizing there was something "wrong" about these chickens, I did more research. How do you know when a chicken is old? Well, it turns out that there are a number of ways to check. A simple method is to check the coloring and condition of their wattles (the hanging things under their chins), combs (the things sticking up on their heads), and legs. Easy enough. Hmmm, these chickens had really gnarly feet and legs that were pale yellowish grey. I compared to Bruce's, whose legs were clean, smooth, and a nice slate grey. The girl's wattles were almost colorless, as were their combs (Comb and wattle shape differs with each breed, so that didn't mean anything.). Yep, they were old ladies and just to prove it, as summer progressed one by one they died off;  just curled up and died wherever they happened to be in the yard. Sigh. Now I know how to tell young, healthy birds from old lady birds. 

Time to buy more girls. 

The oldest chicken on our homestead. She's four now and has just this summer stopped laying every day.