The Proper Way to Hold Chickens

 

One hand on top, one hand on bottom (like so) gives them the support they need without the ability to flap their wings.

 

Holding a chicken is easy work...

 

...but holding TWO chickens is for the extremely talented. 

 

I'll leave it up to the pros.

If you feed them, they will lay

Any chicken owner knows that THAT is not always true. In fact, in winter no matter how hard you try, egg-laying is cut WAaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyy back to basically, non-existent.

Except for us this year, apparently.


When we moved our chickens stopped laying eggs altogether. When a few do-gooders began to lay again, they were laying them in barns or in the field or under trees.... so for two months straight we had no eggs. It got so bad, I had to BUY eggs.

BUYING eggs at the store is very depressing when you are feeding an entire flock of chickens at home, let me tell you.

But for over a month now, our chickens have been making things up to us. We gather about 15 eggs a day, sometimes on a slow day, 10 eggs.

Really, if you look at the ratio of chicken to egg, it ain't a pretty picture (more than half our flock are practically begging to be butchered) but even still, this is a lot of eggs. Worse yet, since our move, we lost our egg customers which means two things:

1) We are swamped with eggs
2) We are paying for their feed all by ourselves. Feed was once entirely paid for by egg sales and now is not-and for a flock full of lazy hens to boot!

We use a dozen eggs every morning for breakfast when they are scrambled. (That is just the children, mind you.) Dippy eggs are about two each. And when we get sick of eating eggs and the children BEG for a cereal day, I make them raw eggnog to drink WITH their cereal. (Don't let the word raw freak you out. It is DE-LICIOUS, just as tasty as storebought though not as thick and extremely healthy without a worry of salmonella since I know and trust the egg source. wink)

And yet, we are still being swamped with eggs.

Thanks to our church congregation who doesn't mind (or at least let on that they mind) all the egg contributions I have been bringing for snack!

One week I hardboiled 2 dozen eggs and made deviled eggs.
One week I hardboiled 3 dozen eggs and made egg salad.
One week I made quadruple batches of homemade pudding and two angel food cakes (they didn't make it to church though) using 16 eggs.

I think next week calls for a crustless quiche. What say ye?

It is a problem, but it is a HAPPY problem.


PS. One day the children gathered a Lilac-colored egg and that was the thrill of the week. I promised to blow it out to save the shell for admiration purposes and then one morning cracked it into scrambled eggs before I realized what I was doing! What a dork I was to ruin a LILAC colored egg! ugh.


PPS. For the curious, we have Golden Wyandotte, Ameraucana, Leghorn, Barred Rock, Australorp, Black Sex Link, Rhode Island Red and Buff Orpingtons all represented in our not-so-little flock. But I think I would really love to add a Copper Maran or two so I could get these lovely little presents every now and again:

via Pinterest

Chicken Feeding Time

Thanks to a friend who shares her surplus, almost every week we are able to get grocery store cast-offs of bread and bakery items past there prime. I do as much as I can with the bread myself (making croutons, bread cubes for stuffing, bread crumbs, using in recipes or just plain eating) but what we can't use (or don't prefer to use) we give to the chickens.

Most of the time, when we do, all of the animals come out of the woodwork but today I had only one "helper".

This is Chester.

Chester doesn't mind getting crumbs all over him-or even the chickens pecking said crumbs off his back- if it means he gets a few nibbles himself.

I think bread-eating cats and dogs are funny. And I rather like the company.

Jolly Reminder #496

In case you buy store bought eggs...THIS is the color the yoke SHOULD be.

FLUORESCENT orange.

If your egg bread doesn't GLOW, you have problems.

An outting

Winter complicates a lot of things one of which, I am finding out, is animal chores.

Outdoor livestock of any kind and the caring for them takes on a whole new level of diligence in the winter.

Partly because it is so gosh darn difficult to pull yourself out of a nice, warm home and into frigid weather and partly because...you have to do it ALL. THE. TIME.

Animals need to be checked on more often, fed more often and their water needs to be constantly available to them all the time because these are the things that help them retain their heat.

Can I just say keeping water available around this time of year is pretty hard. In single/teen digits, before you put the newly poured water down it has already started turning into ice. Blah. Blech. No FUN.

It's like getting ready to run a race and realizing your shoe laces are tied together just as the whistle blows.

And in the case of chickens: here's a hint for you: eggs freeze. You have to be sure to gather them soon after they are laid (which by the way is not coming as readily now since the chickens are having a not-enough-daylight/too-cold egg strike) lest the the eggs freeze, expand and break their shells.

So-you have to leave your nice warm home, put on all your arctic gear, head out with water for dog. Chickens. Calf. Break up ice in water containers of dog. chickens. calf. Feed dog. Chickens. Calf. Gather chicken eggs (NOT dog or calf ones mind you)

Then do it all again.

You know what REALLY bothers me about it all, though? Those pitiful looks those animals give me to make me aware of their intolerance to being holed up in a stuffy old chicken house or barn.
Again, in the case of the chickens~ they flock to the door and stare longingly (albeit beadily) out the door...WAITING for me to open up so I can feed them and anticipating the moment they can bolt out the door. Unfortunately for them, I have already by now closed the other door that leads outside the chicken house so they are good and stuck. Once one nearly took out my head (not kidding. and NOT exaggerating.)

I always try to assure them that it is for their own good. That they wouldn't, in fact, like to scratch around in tons of cold snow, that the ground would be too hard for anything productive to come from it, and that 9 degrees is awful cold without a wind break and shelter. I try to convince them they ought to be thanking me but instead they peck my boots and blow dust in my eyes.

Today was a more mild day and I felt bad for the crazy things (they really do look pitiful when they want to) so I let them out for some fresh air.

Following is the story of what happens when penned up chickens are liberated in winter:


They FLY to the doorway all ready to run out and start scratching up dirt and earthworms only to discover an odd blanket of some bizarre white substance. They don't know what it is---but it doesn't look friendly. Especially to their bone-naked legs.

They stare wondering what to do. Wait. Wait. Then the leader makes the final decision to move forward, regardless of outcome.


Others follow. Some, eagerly, as if it was their own idea. Others~not so much.



"You mean, I have to step in THAT?!?!?"

They make their way to the only place that isn't covered in snow~under the turkey run~making sure not to step on any snow during their trek.


They discover that the dirt (being protected from the elements) is nicely loosened and dry, just as they had left it those lovely green days of yester...month.

So they do what any sane chicken would do~they start to take a dirt bath!! Peck, scratch, shake bum. Push, poof wings, settle in.

Oddly, it reminds me a lot of my nightly routine with my down pillow.


Ooooh, yeah! World peace! Inner purpose! Amazing what bathing in dirt can do, isn't it?

They start to really get into it and the dust, it is just a'flyin.

But they don't REALLY get into it until you start seeing chickens going upside down...


and when they start twisting into pretzels and becoming unrecognizable~you know it is time to give them their privacy because you won't be getting them out of that stupor of ecstasy any time soon.


I have never in my life seen a more contented, satisfied chicken.

Brace Yourselves People

The BEFORE pictures



Just glancing in the window says it all...

What a DUMP!

Layers upon layers of JUNK. Beer cans. Feed sacks. Junk Junk JUNK.

I cannot fathom the sort of person who would live like this. I don't care if it is "just" a chicken house or not...this mess is a picture of ungratefulness and lack of pride. It is like throwing God's gifts right back in His face. A person ought to take pride in what they have-whether it be their mansion, tent, car OR chicken house. Thankyouverymuch.

Oh-but I am not through yet. Whenever I think of it, my feathers get all ruffled....and I find myself appauled anew.

In the actual coop was about 5 inches of compacted guano and the fully intact skeletons of over a dozen chickens! One poor thing was clawing its way out of the door! We assume the person just let them starve to death. That is, if you could CALL him a person. My niece called it a chicken graveyard. For the record: that was not fun.

Of course, Matt did most of the work (HALLELUJAH!!!)

My only contribution was cleaning the screening:

Feel free to scroll back up to see the end results again. And AGAIN. In order to protect yourselves from nightmares for the next month. Go ahead--scroll back up to the happy place and NEVER return to this post again!