Babies!

We now have three hens setting and two have hatched chicks! Rosie (daughter of a very fine Partridge Rock hen who hatched chicks for us last year) had three, possibly four, chicks doddering around this morning and has one egg yet unhatched. She isn't amused by my constant peering into her little nest area but the little chirps and whistling were too hard to resist. Rosie has behaved just like her mother and I trusted her through the whole hatch for all the details - for instance when let out of her hut for a daily break she would come back in a timely manner so the eggs didn't chill more than was safe. Also, I put a few worms down on a board for her to "feed the kids" beyond the mash they have. She clucked a bit but wouldn't come out while I was there. I glanced in the skylight a few minutes later and the worms were gone :)

Foxy, a big Dark Cornish we raised from a chick last year, had one little peeper this morning. Foxy is an unknown but has been consistent through the hatch, not leaving the nest for too long. One of her eggs got broken early on. She's a big girl and I suspect she accidentally broke it. Some yolk got on a few of the eggs so I removed the worst and left her the remaining three. We were unsure if any of the eggs would produce a chick after that but I'm happy to say she at least has one. She is being very attentive and motherly, all the appropriate clucking at the right times. I'll try to get some pictures soon.

Nervous Heifer & Chicken Hypnotists

The Sunday before last we brought another heifer home. We picked this girl up from the same woman we bought our other two from. Turns out she still had the heifer I'd had my eye on last year but couldn't bring myself to choose as she was a tad more high strung than the ones we settled on. Since then Jeff has not only gotten used to having bovine around but has grown a real affection for them, in particular our "pet" Charlotte. I figured even if this new girl is a little livelier we'd be o.k.

The trip went fine, all be it long. The loading was uneventful, the trip home was equally uneventful. We made really good time getting back, everything was smooth. I tended to the dog, cat and chickens, making rounds to get everyone checked and fed and Jeff backed the trailer up to unload. Everything was set and I put our two heifers on the outside of the barnyard to keep everyone separated initially. Jeff asked if I was ready and I said "yep". Oops. I wasn't ready.

That heifer came shooting off the trailer in a streak. Hens went squawking and flying and the dog started barking. It seemed like time was moving in slow motion as my eyes started to note all the things that weren't quite right... should have shooed the hens out of the heifer's path, maybe should have run the other heifers up on top of the hill, definitely should have spaced those boards closer together up in the corner of the barnyard... that last one was the thought I had as the new heifer stuck her head between the boards and pulled the rest of herself through after, busting down a board in the process. Worse yet, she proceeded to get bumped maybe all of once by one of the other heifers before deciding she hadn't gone far enough. She stepped through one set of electric wires and was off, climbing directly up the hill and leaping through two more sets of electric wires (which were VERY hot, as Jeff can attest to).

We spent a little over two very strained hours, mostly keeping her from making it all the way across the hill and onto the rest of the farm. At one point she barreled into the brush between the hill and the road - thank goodness she deemed that uncomfortable and came back up the hill. She made multiple attempts to run right at us, toward the open fields on the other side of the hill. If she'd made it, that would be another couple hours, at least. There are MANY more options for an animal to run on that side. I'm thankful 1) neither of us tripped at any critical moments running along to keep her from going further 2) that we'd made that bathroom stop on the way home 3) that the heifer was tired and panting and 4) for all the brush, trees and crazy terrain that probably prevented that heifer from running for MILES.

We finally coaxed her to turn back the way she came. Instead of going through the open gates and down the lane, she slipped back through the same electric wires she came through and back in with the other heifers, who, little wonders that they are, were hanging out in the same location. I got some grain and called the other girls into the barnyard and they ushered the "new girl" in with them and Jeff rushed up to close the gate behind.

WHEW.

After all that we barricaded the heck out of the barnyard - new boards where she broke through and cattle panels behind all the gates that looked like a head could fit through if forced. We checked her repeatedly until dark and barely slept that night.

Next day she was still there, which was all I was hoping for, and we went out to feed the critters in the morning. As Jeff was putting hay down in the pen for the heifers the chickens were, as usual, rummaging around in the barnyard for a morning snack of bugs and hay seeds. Our new heifer, dubbed "Ella" (though I had another name in mind after all that running...) was mesmerized by the chickens. The other heifers went about their morning business of eating but Ella was just standing there, eyes fixed on those funny little birds. Jeff suggested perhaps we should have taken a chicken up on the hill to bait her back when she escaped, or at least to hypnotize her, which is what it looked like the hens were doing. I guess I can see her fascination... come to think of it I probably had the same look on my face that first year we had birds. I suppose Jeff and I could both confess to still having that same hypnotized look every now and then when checking out the birds :)

Missing - One Gertie hen

As the days get longer we rush around, trying to squeeze "one last thing" in before dark. Then we find ourselves rushing even more to get everyone tucked away for the night. Last night I came from the field to find Jeff frantically searching.

"We're missing a hen!" This was followed by twenty questions of "did you look here" and "did you look there" all the while knowing that it was too dark. That hen was either GONE or settled in so quiet for the night that we weren't going to find her. I checked the hen house, tallying which hens were there, and determined that the missing hen was Gertie. Whether it was Gertie 1 or Gertie 2, I wasn't sure, but either way I knew it'd be sad if she didn't turn up because both Gerties were showing signs of becoming broody. We finally resigned ourselves to the fact that she wouldn't be found, at least not at that hour. Trying to remain calm and optimistic, I turned my mind to wrapping up all other chores.

In all the chaos the heifers still hadn't gotten their evening bale, so I opened the shed door and shined the light on the bales for Jeff to grab one. And there she was! Nestled between two bales and resting peacefully despite all the commotion we had just been making just outside the door, was Gertie. Jeff gently lifted her and beneath her was her egg for the day. After a very late night snack and drink (I figured she'd been in there since late afternoon when I'd last gotten hay for the heifers), she finally found a spot on the roost next to her flock. Whew. That's one long day for a little hen.

Pastured Poultry, Free Range - What do they mean?

Pastured Poultry - this doesn't mean the same thing to everyone so I'll explain what we do. Our birds are put in bottomless pens in our grass/legume mix field at between three and four weeks old. The pens are roughly half enclosed steel and half hardware cloth (like chicken wire only a finer mesh). The pens are moved by hand daily at sunrise, and twice daily if necessary. They are moved at sunrise so the birds can start their day with fresh bugs and forage on "clean" ground.

Our Dark Cornish are most active in the morning and they really make the most of those early hours and the fresh forage. After the pen is moved we refresh their supplementary grain. What we noticed when we raised the Cornish Rock cross commercial-type bird on pasture was that the heritage breeds tend to eat the fresh grass and bugs first and eat grain second. The Cornish Rocks go directly to the feed trough and fill up on grain first, then eat grass. The heritage breeds also regularly polish off all edible grasses and legumes while the Cornish Rocks tended to leave more forage untouched or, sadly, cover it with manure.

The reason we move the pens by hand, which some would see as unnecessary manual labor, is that we need to move slow enough so birds don't get legs caught under the edge of the pen and if birds get frightened we are able to see them while moving and can stop to let them settle. The more likely event with the Dark Cornish is that they will escape under the edge of the pen if it's lifted too high. You can't catch five escaped chickens with an ATV anyway (well, maybe you could but I have my doubts), so for the minute it takes to roll the pen along by hand it's the most efficient and practical way. Being on foot also allows us to view the birds a little more each day to assess how they are doing.

We've read about a few different ways of pasturing young birds. Another distinct model is "day ranging" which involves allowing the birds out in a more extended area, enclosing them only with fencing and leaving their shelter in place for many more days at a time. Though at first glance the pastured pens may resemble confinement, we prefer this method for a few reasons. One is predators. We have hawks, eagles, coyotes, raccoons, skunks and possums. Those are just what we know about. The pens give them access to forage, sun and fresh air, but also a higher degree of protection from predators and an efficient shelter for shade and protection from rain and wind. Another reason is that we can be assured that the birds are on "clean" ground every single day while they are young. This is important because it lowers the birds' exposure to their manure, which can carry protozoan parasites that young birds can be particularly vulnerable to.

When the birds are between 14 and 16 weeks old we sort out any birds we think we'd like to keep as part of our laying/breeding flock and the remainder are processed for table birds. Those birds that we keep are brought down from the field to the hen house, closer to our house. From there they are "free range". For us that means the door to the hen house is open at first light. The hens and rooster are allowed to range as far as they can or want to walk in a day. This means that their exposure to predators increases but fortunately the area around our home and theirs has plenty of trees and brush which provides protection they don't have in the open field.

The birds we keep form a more cohesive flock with just one (or two, as we have now) roosters who do a pretty good job of alerting everyone if they sense danger. We provide the hens nest boxes in the hen house so they are exposed to them early on to "get the idea" to lay their eggs there. Sometimes they get their own ideas and we find eggs in other locations, but no one's perfect, right? In the evening the flock naturally heads for the hen house, having already become familiar with it as a safe place to roost for the night. We close the hen house at last light and after a few coos or occasional quiet but high pitched "rrrrrrr" from the rooster, everyone settles in until morning.

Dancing with Nature

I'm always amazed at how much our lives are influenced by weather. I grew up on a farm and I remember my parents focus on the weather. I remember rushing out to close barn doors as rain storms began and walking out to the hayfield in the blazing heat to take water to my dad as he mowed hay. Memories blur together and in hindsight it seems like my parents had a well choreographed dance with nature. But now, as we plan and work, I've felt like an awkward dance partner who doesn't know the moves. I'm getting better, though. Yes, I listen to the weather forecast, but I also seem to be getting more of a feel for the moves. In past years we've found ourselves raking hay and feeling drops of rain on our shoulders, bewildered and thinking "it wasn't supposed to rain!"

I've learned that farming isn't about planning and executing plans so much as it is about participating. Farming is a team effort and our teammates are soil, chickens, plants, bacteria, and weather, to name a few. The weather is the teammate that really demands that we pay attention. I wonder if other folks got the lesson last year when rivers formed in enormous expanses of tilled fields planted in monoculture row crops?

New Logo!

Hi everybody! After much discussion we've modified our logo/business card. Our old design was literally a draft sketch made by Jeff when he dreamed up and pitched this whole crazy chicken idea to me when we still lived in Madison. We liked it because it was simple and always reminded us of how simple and fun the idea started out. But, like the saying goes, we've come a long way baby. We wanted our new card to be a little classy (if you can think of a rooster as classy... we do) and to have a clean, professional appearance. Plus we paid homage to our first Dark Cornish roo. He's the "gentleman" you'll see in the middle of the farm name. This all probably doesn't mean much to our existing customers, but we're hoping the eye-catching orange will get new folks to give us a second look and find out just how serious we are about tasty chicken raised in a humane and sustainable way.

Psychological Warfare?

So today the weather was warm enough that the chickens spent the better part of the day rummaging around in the barnyard, digging through manure and hay. I went out to give the heifers hay in the afternoon and give the chickens some scratch grain and found one rooster crowing, incessantly. That's not entirely uncommon, but he was being VERY persistent. I happen to turn slightly and caught site of the hen house out of the corner of my eye. That's when I noticed the "chicken door" was shut. We have a vertical sliding door made of scrap plexiglass and we prop it open with a stick. The whole lower portion of the hen house is a separate area, essentially enclosed in greenhouse material (mostly transparent) to gather heat from the sun and provide a lounge area and extra nest boxes. I quickly went over to open the door only to find just ONE bird inside.... the other rooster! All of the other hens were out frollicking, along with the #2 rooster, who was making so much noise, all right there for the #1 rooster to see. Now that little chicken door hasn't gotten knocked closed in quite a long time, so I ask you, was it intentional? Did #2 trap #1? Is this war?