I'll admit it. I was a little nervous about taking this on, which explains why I researched it for about 3 years before finally moving forward. I was worried about investing a lot of time, energy and money into this project. What if I hated it? Could I risk giving my husband a little more fuel for his fire? Clearly, he already thinks I'm a little nutty.
Getting the coop and moving the girls outside was a big deal. To me, birds do not belong in the house. But of course, the babies were different. Well, I was not prepared for how quickly they would grow. I checked them every morning and every evening, and I saw changes each time I looked. It was fascinating! And I realize they are not done growing and changing.
Without a mother hen to show them what to do, the first two nights the girls prepared to settle in for sleep in the grassy run. Noisily, they piled together in the cold grass. Although it had been a beautiful day, the temperature was dropping to the 50's overnight. They were not happy! I scooped them up and put them to bed inside the coop. They immediately settled down and went to sleep. And yes, I do have a heat lamp up there for cold nights.
Last night things were different. As it got dark and chilly, they got noisy. Lucy was the first to head upstairs, followed by Maggie. The others ran around underneath, chirping loudly. Lucy and Maggie peered down from the safety of the coop, calling to the others. Within about ten minutes, everyone was upstairs, ready for bed.
One of the things I really like about our coop design is the open "stairway" to the run below. It allows the girls to decide when to get up in the morning, and when to head to bed, alleviating us of the need to "rise with the chickens." I'm not particularly fond of early mornings, so this works for me.
My rants about life, the universe, and everything.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Which Came First? The Chicken or the Chaos?
There are certain people in this world who wake up every day with the preformed thought, fully articulated before their eyes are halfway open (possibly carried over from some blissful and manic dream) that, "My life is pretty good, but there's way too little chaos and confusion in it; I wonder how I could change that." Still others go through the day thinking, "Wow, my life is really chaotic and disorganized. What I'd really like to do is test the limits of my ability to cope with chaos and disorganization; I wonder how I could do that." Whatever the time of day, this is invariably followed by, "I've gotta have three cups of coffee first; this is gonna take a lot of energy!"
At the extreme end of this hypothetical chaophilic scale (people like this often make up their own words -- like this one which is a fancy and scary word meaning 'chaos loving' -- probably because the English language, like all man made institutions, is too precise and rational) are those who think, "one farm animal in the backyard of my suburban home would be just plain boring; I need at least half a dozen." When they were single, you can bet dollars to donuts they followed a natural and orderly progression from there to "I need a partner who won't mess up my chaos with his own chaos [yes, these people are usually women; sorry, but it's true]. If only I could find someone who scores high on both the 'buttoned down' and 'tolerant' indices."
Happily for them, there is a yin to their yang, the maniacs who marry the type of person who wakes up every day thinking, "what kind of crazy, chaotic activities (editor's note: plural intended) can I add to my buttoned down beloved's life today?"
As you may have suspected by now, I... am just such a yin. And Elizabeth is, well, she's the crazy chicken lady. Yes, go ahead, it's safe. Go ahead and call her Crazy Chicken Lady. It's her own term of endearment. She likes it! How crazy is that?
Let's be honest: I, myself, would probably never have gone out of my way to ensure that every morning, when I look out my back door, I see chickens. I never wanted four hamsters, either. In fact, I never wanted one hamster. Or three bunnies. A turtle with a broken shell. A used guinea pig. Four frogs. Or their crickets. Or the tadpoles who would have become even more frogs had not one of the frogs I didn't ask for but got anyway - Scratchy (and proud of it) - hadn't been so darn vicious. What's that, you say? "I'll bet you had them anyway hahaha!" Darn right I did. I had ALL of them. (I never asked for the three bats that found their way into my house over the years, either, but that's probably nobody's fault. Probably. At least they didn't stay long.) What's next? Bees?
So, entropy being what it is - that is pretty much its definition, "it is what it is" - and overruling such things as "conservation of energy" in the conservative, orderly hierarchy of laws in my ideally conservative, well ordered universe... I have chickens. Not just one chicken. Half a dozen chickens.
At least they are out of my house now. At least they're out in the yard , where they provide an endless incentive for my three dogs to bark. A possible side benefit is that they may scare the poor little things into a heart attack, thereby giving me an excuse to say, "Quick! Call the pediatric bird cardiologist." 'Cause I like saying that (don't ask me why; I don't know). That's a triumph for a "store bought eggs" kind of guy. If you say, "dozen," I say "eggs." If my wife overhears you (and she will, because she's always looking for new "ideas"), she will say, "chickens." You say "chaos," I say "theory" ... and she says, "Yay!"
In fact, she overheard the title of my post and immediately blurted out - you guessed it - "CHAOS :D"
At the extreme end of this hypothetical chaophilic scale (people like this often make up their own words -- like this one which is a fancy and scary word meaning 'chaos loving' -- probably because the English language, like all man made institutions, is too precise and rational) are those who think, "one farm animal in the backyard of my suburban home would be just plain boring; I need at least half a dozen." When they were single, you can bet dollars to donuts they followed a natural and orderly progression from there to "I need a partner who won't mess up my chaos with his own chaos [yes, these people are usually women; sorry, but it's true]. If only I could find someone who scores high on both the 'buttoned down' and 'tolerant' indices."
Happily for them, there is a yin to their yang, the maniacs who marry the type of person who wakes up every day thinking, "what kind of crazy, chaotic activities (editor's note: plural intended) can I add to my buttoned down beloved's life today?"
As you may have suspected by now, I... am just such a yin. And Elizabeth is, well, she's the crazy chicken lady. Yes, go ahead, it's safe. Go ahead and call her Crazy Chicken Lady. It's her own term of endearment. She likes it! How crazy is that?
Let's be honest: I, myself, would probably never have gone out of my way to ensure that every morning, when I look out my back door, I see chickens. I never wanted four hamsters, either. In fact, I never wanted one hamster. Or three bunnies. A turtle with a broken shell. A used guinea pig. Four frogs. Or their crickets. Or the tadpoles who would have become even more frogs had not one of the frogs I didn't ask for but got anyway - Scratchy (and proud of it) - hadn't been so darn vicious. What's that, you say? "I'll bet you had them anyway hahaha!" Darn right I did. I had ALL of them. (I never asked for the three bats that found their way into my house over the years, either, but that's probably nobody's fault. Probably. At least they didn't stay long.) What's next? Bees?
So, entropy being what it is - that is pretty much its definition, "it is what it is" - and overruling such things as "conservation of energy" in the conservative, orderly hierarchy of laws in my ideally conservative, well ordered universe... I have chickens. Not just one chicken. Half a dozen chickens.
At least they are out of my house now. At least they're out in the yard , where they provide an endless incentive for my three dogs to bark. A possible side benefit is that they may scare the poor little things into a heart attack, thereby giving me an excuse to say, "Quick! Call the pediatric bird cardiologist." 'Cause I like saying that (don't ask me why; I don't know). That's a triumph for a "store bought eggs" kind of guy. If you say, "dozen," I say "eggs." If my wife overhears you (and she will, because she's always looking for new "ideas"), she will say, "chickens." You say "chaos," I say "theory" ... and she says, "Yay!"
In fact, she overheard the title of my post and immediately blurted out - you guessed it - "CHAOS :D"
Coop!!!
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| Primed, waiting for paint. Our new hen house is made from recycled materials. Notice the tires on this side. The other end has handles so the entire coop can be moved "wheelbarrow style" around the yard. Love it! |
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| Is this new home a birthday present? The girls are one month old, today. |
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Growing!
Three weeks old, and someone replaced my little fuzzy babies with awkward teenagers. This is Maggie, a Speckled Sussex. She really is beautiful! Look at those giant feet. I understand the connection to dinosaurs when I see this.
I'm making it a point to hold each bird on a daily basis to make sure they are comfortable with people. They aren't always fond of being picked up, but they don't peck me, and they do tolerate it.
We are definitely ready for them to go outside. The coop should be here soon!
I'm making it a point to hold each bird on a daily basis to make sure they are comfortable with people. They aren't always fond of being picked up, but they don't peck me, and they do tolerate it.
We are definitely ready for them to go outside. The coop should be here soon!
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| Maggie - wishing I would put her down and leave her alone. |
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Chickens CAN fly!
I went into the "chicken room" this morning to check on the babies. It's part of my new routine: change their water, check their food, and hold each chick for a few minutes. We are making it a point to hold them for a little while several times during the day, in an effort to get them comfortable with being handled. Some of them are not too fond of this process, although Sunday evening, several chicks fell asleep in hand. Very sweet.
Back to this morning - I was very surprised to find only 5 chicks in the brooder box. Loretta, one of our Easter Eggers, had flown the coop! She was walking around outside of the box. Fortunately, she is one of the calmer birds, so catching her was easy. We now have a lid set askew on the box so that it blocks them from flying out, but still allows plenty of ventilation.
I will post pictures soon. It's been just a week, and each chick has more than doubled in size and grown beautiful wings. They are even getting their tail feathers. So cute!
This is the only time naming our pets has been easy. They are: Loretta, Prudence, Maggie, Sadie, Martha, and Lucy (aka Princess Yellow). Can you guess the theme?
Back to this morning - I was very surprised to find only 5 chicks in the brooder box. Loretta, one of our Easter Eggers, had flown the coop! She was walking around outside of the box. Fortunately, she is one of the calmer birds, so catching her was easy. We now have a lid set askew on the box so that it blocks them from flying out, but still allows plenty of ventilation.
I will post pictures soon. It's been just a week, and each chick has more than doubled in size and grown beautiful wings. They are even getting their tail feathers. So cute!
This is the only time naming our pets has been easy. They are: Loretta, Prudence, Maggie, Sadie, Martha, and Lucy (aka Princess Yellow). Can you guess the theme?
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Guess what? Chicken Butt!
Apparently chicks can get something called "pasty butt" which is what happens when they have a little constipation and the poo blocks their vent. (Vent is the chicken word for anus.) I've read many warnings about the danger of pasty butt, so naturally, I've kept a look out. Sure enough, two of the girls needed attention this morning.
The remedy - hold the chicken's butt under warm running water, and use a paper towel to gently wipe the dry poo away. Pat dry. Using a qtip, swab the vent with a little vaseline or olive oil. This prevents new poo from sticking to her rear end.
I know this is more than you ever wanted to know about chicken butts. It is certainly more than I ever thought I would know!
Let's hope this is the last we will see of pasty butt!
The remedy - hold the chicken's butt under warm running water, and use a paper towel to gently wipe the dry poo away. Pat dry. Using a qtip, swab the vent with a little vaseline or olive oil. This prevents new poo from sticking to her rear end.
I know this is more than you ever wanted to know about chicken butts. It is certainly more than I ever thought I would know!
Let's hope this is the last we will see of pasty butt!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
rapidly changing
Picked up the girls this morning at about 7 a.m. and by 3 this afternoon, we noticed actual feathers forming their wings, replacing the fluff! You can't see it in these pictures, but the feathers are definitely there. They are all alert and strong. So much fun to watch. (Missing from the pictures - Prudence!)
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| Loretta |
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| Sadie |
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| Martha |
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| Maggie |
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| Princess Yellow - Lucy |
May 3 - the girls arrive!
Day one - baby chicks.
Adorable. What else is there to say? The yellow one has been very sleepy. She does perk up, so I'm not worried about her. And one of the brown ones seems to be a little more aggressive than the others. Not bad, just a little bossy. Looks like the pecking order is already being established! Will have to wait and see how this unfolds.
Gertie, our Newfie-Goldie mix, has very little interest in the little girls. I think I could leave them alone together and nothing would happen. Ellie Mae, on the other hand, is very interested. As a result, the babies are safely locked in a room so the Goldie does not have unsupervised access.
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