Our Little Broilers

Our little broilers are already double the size they were when they suffered their Dexter attack a few weeks back.  It's amazing how quickly they grow.

Here's a look at what happens when John moves them.  He's been doing this in the late-afternoon/evening lately, rather than in the morning, because it's so much easier to do during bright daylight.

You can see in this photo how they just kind of move with the tractor as he rolls it.  It seems they've got the hang of the routine and are always glad to see that new patch of grass.

Our Nasty Buck

Copper, King of the Rock

We love having visitors to our little farm.  And, I'll admit, things are very entertaining in the backyard right now.  I would not, however, think this is a prime time to bring over the kiddos for a friendly farm visit.  In fact, if any kiddos are reading this post along with you, it might be time to send them to make their beds or clean their rooms.

Yep, it's breeding season, and though we're not sure Copper has managed to actually get things done yet, he's trying desperately.  While a lot of dairy goat owners today choose artificial insemination, we opted to go a more natural route and own a buck.  Honestly, I think we're beginning to rethink the decision.  In the months we've owned him, Copper has gone from adorable little buckling to disgusting buck Herd King.

For those who are unfamiliar with buck behavior, allow me to quote from The Backyard Goat as way of explanation:

**Warning:  Parts of this quote are NOT suitable for the kiddos and, in fact, use language that I stumble over myself, as an adult!**

"Though regal and affectionate to a fault, bucks have bizarre habits that  make them unsuitable for most applications.  Bucks,  . . . enter 'rut' as autumn approaches. . . Since many bucks consider humans part of their herd, they court female caretakers and challenge human males for leadership.  A two-hundred-pound buck is a force to reckon with [luckily for us, Copper isn't near that size], whether he's standing with his front feet on a woman's shoulders blubbering in her face or ramming a man with his forehead or horns.  People are seriously injured by bucks every year.  . . . If the danger factor isn't enough, consider this: during rut, scent glands located near a buck's horns (or where his horns used to be) secrete incredibly strong-scented, greasy musk.  When a buck rubs his forehead on a person or object, he's spreading his scent.  . . . They also spray thin streams of urine along their bellies, on their front legs and chests, and into their mouths and beards.  Bucks also twist themselves and grasp their penises in their mouths.  They sometimes masturbate on their bellies and front legs and then sniff themselves and 'flehmen.'"

Okay.  Aren't you glad I warned you about the content of this post?  Now, I do not plan to post any pics of Copper's myriad disgusting behaviors, but I have tried to snap a pic of him "flehmening."  So far,  I've been unsuccessful.  Flehmening is when he lifts his chin and curls his upper lip.  "By curling his lip, he exposes the vomeronasal organ (also called the Jacobson's organ), in the roof of his mouth, and draws scent toward it.  This behavior helps him identify scents."    So, Copper is flehmening a lot these days.  He flehmens as he follows the gals around.  He flehmens as he admires his own terrible stench.  In fact, he does it so often that the only reason I haven't photographed it is that he stinks so terribly that I try to stay as far away from him as possible these days. 

Sharing a moment with Honey

This post has left me wondering where I ought to draw the line when it comes to how much info is too much for the blog.  What do you think, TMI?  I just want to paint an accurate picture of what it's like to live on our little farm, and right now, it's pretty hard to ignore the fact that all of this is going on. 

What do the kids think of all this?  Well, there've definitely been some questions.  And, the other day, I watched Girl 2 stop playing on the swingset and just watch Copper, mesmerized, as he proceeded to do some pretty disgusting things that left his hair on his face matted together.  Thankfully, she did not then come ask me about it.  When it was all over, she just went right back to hanging upside down on the playset. 

Offering a view of the matted hair on his face



Though it's disgusting to read about (I just literally cringed as I reread The Backyard Goat quote above), it is just a part of nature.  When it comes to this season of autumn, though, I think I much prefer the pumpkins and jewel-toned leaves to the flehmening goats.

That's All Folks!

Well, this is it.  . . . the last of Razz's milk for awhile.

Goats are really only supposed to be milked for about 9 months after they give birth.  Razz was a little bit over that, but she'd still been milking well and hadn't been bred yet, so we were just truckin' along.  Then, last week, her milk production dropped dramatically.  All we were bringing in was about 1/3 quart per milking, which hardly seemed worth the effort involved in milking, cleaning all the utensils, and pasteurizing.

It seems it's time to go ahead and dry her off.  We'll do it gradually over the next couple of weeks so that she won't develop mastitis.  In the meantime, the kitties are loving that 1/3 a cup!

As for the rest of us, we're at least 5 months away from having backyard milk again since the gestational time is 5 months and some change.  On the bright side, when we do get to milk again, we plan to have double the milk, since we are hoping to breed Honey and Razz this season.  AND, we'll have some adorable little goat kids running around here, too. 

In the meantime, I bought my first gallon of milk from the grocery store since April.  Girl 1 saw it in the fridge and cried out in dismay, "Is that COW milk in our fridge?!!"

:)

I am going to miss all the cheese and yogurt that I've been making, for sure.  What I think I might not miss is that 4:45 alarm each morning.  I'm thinking I can get at least an extra 20 minutes sleep now that I won't be milking in the early mornings.  That extra 20 minutes will allow me to sleep on into the 5 o'clock hour, a time that's still early but doesn't still feel like the middle of the night.  :)

Hay Haulin' Day

I definitely hadn't planned on hauling hay today.  It was not one of the 15 things I'd written down in my planner to accomplish today.  And, when John left for the bank this morning, he had no idea it was how we'd spend a few hours of our day.  But, when the guy who's got square bales stops in and says he's got our 50 bales out in the field if we can come get them today, it suddenly becomes Hay Haulin' Day!

In his white pin-striped button-down, is he maybe the best-dressed hay hauler ever? 

Little Boy ate his lunch in the backseat as I slowly drove the truck through the field as John stacked the bales on the trailer.

He hates having his photo taken, so I'm sure he's gonna love this post.  ;)

All loaded up and ready to head home.

The rain started as we drove home, so we got to move it all into the shed in the rain.  At least we were able to pull the truck into the yard and get it pretty close to the shed now that we've redone the fencing to allow for a truck to fit through. 

We've got 47 bales stacked in the shed and 3 ready for use in the milking room.

Now, I know that folks around these parts haul hay all the time, but this was a first for this girl!

Here are some of my observations from my first experience:

1.  There's a reason farmers are always wearing jeans.  I was in running shorts when I got the call that it was Hay Day.  Shorts were fine as I drove the truck.  Shorts were not fine as I unloaded and carried my first couple of bales into the shed.  I ran in and changed after about 3 bales, but the damage had already been done.  My thighs are still burning!

2.  Though they're all roughly the same size, some bales are significantly heavier than others.  This surprised me.  John would save the "light" ones for me to carry. 

3.  The "light" ones, though, didn't seem so light to me!  I guess I'm a wimp.  I can run quite a distance in a respectable time without getting cramped up, but I've never, I repeat, never, had any kind of upper-body strength.  I'm sure that watching me carry the bales and then attempt to heave them up onto the stack in the shed was comical. 

4.  I have a great husband.  This isn't a new realization, but I'm just appreciating it in a new way.  As silly as I must have looked, he never laughed at me.  And as little help as I probably was with my wimpy little arms, he still acted like he couldn't have done it without me. 

:)

New Critter Update

Well, the chicks continue to get bigger and uglier everyday.  It's unclear how much of the ugly-feather problem is due to their industrial breed and how much is due to their near-death experience last week. 

And, we've got a climber!

Milkshake, the tiniest kitten, wants to be with us ALL the time. If she hears me walk past the window, she climbs the screen and meows at me.

What?  Are you coming outside now?

Here, she is climbing up me as I walk through the yard to check for eggs.

She is so cute in the mornings.  When I go outside at 5:30 for the morning milking, I usually find her curled up on the milking stool in the goat shed.  She walks with me through the yard as I feed the goats and get Razz up onto the milking stand, then she climbs my leg and sits on my knee as I begin to milk Razz.  The first few squirts of milk from each teat go into what's called a strip cup. 

The strip cup has a wire mesh lid that catches any debris that might have been lodged in the tip of the teat and allows you to assess whether the milk is off in odor or consistency before starting to milk into the pail.  Milkshake has decided that what goes into the strip cup is for her.  So, once I get the two squirts per teat into the cup, I put it down on the straw floor, she jumps down off my knee, and climbs inside the cup where she laps up every last drop. 

Scarf, the older of the two new kittens (named for the white ring around her neck) has finally gotten comfortable enough to venture out from under the shrub she'd been living under.

Aren't they cute?

And, they seem to be doing their job.  I haven't heard any unsettling scurrying in the goat shed since these two have taken up residence there. 

Weirdo Egg

Yesterday, I sent Girl 1 out to gather eggs.  "How many?"  I asked her as she came back in the door. 

G1: Five.  There would've been six, but one was broken.

Me:  Broken in the laying box?

G1: Yep.

Me:  And you just left it there?

G1:  Yep.

And then she sauntered off, nonplussed.

Kids.  Sometimes I'd swear this one is 18 rather than 8.

Anyway, I headed out myself to dispose of the broken egg.  You really, really don't want to leave broken eggs in the hen house.  If chickens get a taste of egg and like it (which they often do), you'll have a real problem on your hands as they begin to intentionally break eggs.  Anyway, we've never had a broken egg in the hen house, and I was on the move to quickly dispose of it and avoid any future problems.

This is what I found in the nesting box.

It's a soft, thin-shelled egg.  No wonder it was broken!  A little reading in our trusty  Storey's Guide to Raising Chickens revealed that thin shells are common in a pullet's very first eggs.  It may mean that her little body is not fully geared up for egg production.  It could also be the result of a hereditary defect, imbalanced ration (not the case here), or some type of disease.  Also, "stress induced by fright or excitement can cause a hen to expel an egg before the shell is finished."  The mental image of this one made me laugh out loud! 

Anyway, we'll continue to watch for similar eggs in the future.  Hopefully, it's just a matter of having a young layer.  But, if the eggs continue to be thin-shelled, we'll know we have a larger problem on our hands.

It's Goat Breeding Season!

It's now officially fall, and that means it's goat breeding season.  I'm so excited!  (Is that weird?)

This is the little guy who's gonna make the magic happen!

"Who, me?"

Here you can see Copper, our buck, standing in front of Razz.  You can really see here how different they are in size.  That seems to make this all the more entertaining as he tries to figure it all out. 

Here you can see how the hair on his back and neck stands up anytime he's near her.

We decided to start by trying to put Razz with Copper, since she's more experienced with this.  Once we're pretty sure that she's been bred, we'll switch her out for Honey and let her have a try.  Honey has never  been bred, but we're hoping all will go well and we'll have two milkers come spring.

Yes, the kids are asking questions about everything that's going on in the backyard.  We're answering those questions honestly as they arise,  in as delicate a way as we can.  So far, they haven't connected any dots between what the animals are up to and how human babies are made.  I'm pretty sure those connections are not far off, though.  

An Update on Yesterday's Crisis

Here's Dexter in solitary confinement.  He's behaving himself for the most part.  I think the hardest part of the day for him was when he heard us at the bus stop, and he couldn't be there to see the girls off to school. 

We've decided that "innocent until proven guilty" does NOT apply to the farmyard.  We just know our animals too well.  Dex is definitely to blame.

We are still missing 5 chicks.  But, I am amazed by the resiliency of the ones who survived the attack.

As you can see, they're pretty roughed up, but they're all lively and eating and drinking now.

Here you can see the cute little exotic one at the top of the bunch.  I'm glad she survived. 

I was pretty shaken up by the events of yesterday.  Discovering the little helpless chicks strewn about the yard was horrifying and excellent fodder for the awful nightmare I had last night. 

John could tell I was pretty upset and asked me yesterday,  "You do still like this life we're living, right?  Because stuff like this is just part of it."

He's right. Our backyard is so full of life right now.  Milkshake, our new 6-week-old kitten is on our heels constantly; these precious chicks are chirping away.  But with all this life comes death.   Death is, after all, just a part of life.  And, I more than like this life we're living.  I absolutely love it.  And I will take the bad along with the good because the good is just THAT good.  ;)

Chick Disaster!

So, this morning, John moved the little chicks from their box in the garage and to the chicken tractor in the backyard.   I was planning to post a happy little blogpost about their smooth transition. 

BUT . . .

I came home this afternoon from running errands and went immediately to the backyard to check on the new kittens and chicks.  I found the chicken tractor EMPTY and could see one chick lying limply in the grass.  I immediately called John who rushed home to help me deal with all this.

Even as I reached for the chick, I assumed it was dead.  But, when I grabbed it, it sprung to life and began chirping frantically.   It was pretty beat up and missing lots of feathers.  I took it back to the tractor, which is when I saw that the chicken wire had been pulled back on one side of the tractor.  I then went on a hunt around the yard and found chicks various places.  The ones in the worst shape were  splayed out in plain sight in the grass.  Others had been able to hunker down in hiding spots, and I found them in the flowerbeds, under the slide, under the kids' red wagon.  All told we were able to find 14 . . . all of them alive for the time being.  That means that 7 are still missing entirely.

We searched everywhere we could think of to look, knowing that if we didn't find them soon and get them back to food and water, they wouldn't have a chance at survival. 

Once back in the tractor (that John repaired) most of the chicks went for the water and food.  One just sat in the corner and rocked itself.  There was a very clear bite mark under one's wing that I wanted to photograph, but they were entirely too shaken up for me to open up the tractor. 

Will they make it?  Don't know. 

And, where are the other seven? 

Maybe they made it out of the yard and off to safety.  That's what I want to believe, anyway. 

So, does "innocent until proven guilty" apply to the farmyard?  If so, I can't lay any blame since I wasn't here all morning. 

So, I can't be sure who's culpable.  I do know that when I walked into the backyard, Dexter didn't come bounding up to me but rather tucked his tail between his legs. 

Hmmmmm.

By the way, you still have until the end of the day to comment and get entered into this month's drawing!

Adorable Solutions for Icky Problems

Picture this: 

It's 5:30 am.  I make my way to the milking shed with pail in hand.  It's completely dark inside the shed.  The pull cord for the light is inside, so I have to blindly enter.  But, as I do so, I can hear the frantic scurrying of little icky mice!   . . . .Everyday.   And everyday, I shiver as I pull the light cord just in time to make out the ends of their tails as they scamper under the walls.  Ugghh. 

I hate mice!

I do not, however, hate these two little solutions that we brought home today.

Aren't they precious?

Their momma is an excellent hunter, so we're hoping for big results.

If Dexter will just leave them alone, we'll be good.

How Will You Celebrate Rabbit Day?

Happy International Rabbit Day!  What?  You didn't know that it's Rabbit Day?  Well, it is.  It's official (don't believe me?  Look it up!) 

So, for your enjoyment, let's see some pics of our adorable Cocoa Puff! 

If you didn't have time to plan a more elaborate way to celebrate Rabbit Day, I guess looking at pics of this adorable gal can count. 

Isn't she sweet?

She loves her some garden-fresh parsley!

I do love sweet Cocoa Puff.  But, I have a confession to make:  I suffer from rabbit-related guilt. 

One of the things I love about our little backyard farm is that all of the animals that are a part of it are better off for being here.  For example, our goats are not livestock -- they're pets.  I mean Razz got her teats cleaned with wipe straight from the wipes warmer this morning (need I say more?).  Dexter basically has the run of the place.  The chickens get fresh grass, a clean house, excellent feed and snacks.  The only one who I worry about is Cocoa Puff.

Sure, she is well-fed and watered, has her cage cleaned weekly (Monday's Poop Day, remember?), and has a nearly endless supply of fresh garden goodness.  But, she VERY rarely gets to get out of her cage and stretch her legs. 

Yes, she has a harness that allows us to walk her, BUT she is very skittish.  She's fine once she's haressed and ready to go, but getting her out of the cage has left me dripping blood from my forearms on more than one occasion.  She's not intentionally scratching me, but she gets scared and starts kicking those super-powerful hind legs.  The bloody forearms combined with the fact that she can sometimes wriggle out of the harness make this not the best option.

Early on, we let her spend a lot of time in her playpen, munching clover.  But, now she's gotten so big that she can jump clear over the top and get free.

We do have this pen available most of the time.  We basically just use it to corral Dexter when he's annoying visitors, so we could put up some shade cloth and let Cocoa Puff spend some time in there.  BUT, the one time I tried it, Dexter just ran around it the whole time, terrorizing her.  And, though it's bigger than her 30x30 inch cage, it is concrete-floored, so she's still not getting to graze on greenery.

We thought about moving this pen onto the grass, but Dexter is a digger and would surely get in.

Hmmmm.  You sure do cause a lot of problems, Dex.

Anyway, perhaps in celebration of Rabbit Day, you could help us solve our rabbit dilemma and provide Cocoa Puff with a higher quality of life.  Thoughts?  Suggestions?

Most Spoiled Goat in the Tri-County Area

Meet the most spoiled goat in the tri-county area.

Who me?

Yes, Razz, I'm talking about you.

Last week, I posted a request on Facebook for a baby wipes warmer. Cousin Karen came to the rescue!  Yesterday, she (and adorable Ren) delivered the warmer, and for that Razz and I would like to say Thank You! 

Problem:

Lately, I've been the one on duty for 5:30am milking.  Also, lately, it's been getting cooler, especially in the early mornings.  Once Razz jumps up on the milking stand, the first thing I do is use a baby wipe to wipe her teats and udder clean before starting to milk.  Now, I imagine that being woken up at 5:30am to have your teats yanked on everyday is unpleasant enough.  But, last week, when it turned cool, I touched her teat with that wipe, and she literally jumped!  Poor thing! 

She's providing us with our milk, yogurt, ice cream, coffee creamer, cheese, soap, and lotion.  It seems that, in thanks for what she does for us, the least we could do is make her milking experience as comfortable as possible.

Solution:

Now, my hands and her teats will be much more comfortable during those early morning milkings!

By the way, here are all the gals this morning.  To say that they are enjoying the cooler weather would be an understatement.  They just loll about grazing then plop down in a big goat pile like this one and bask in the warming sun.

They really do the weirdest things with those legs.  Doesn't look that comfortable to me, but then I'm not a goat.

I Scream, You Scream,

We all scream for . . . Hummus!

Hummus is pretty much a staple around here, and now that I've figured out how to make it using dried chickpeas rather than canned, it's pretty cheap for us to make and a very healthy snacking option (for our recipe, click here).  We do have trouble around here finding Tahini paste, a key ingredient, though.  Kroger used to carry it, but since their latest rearrange, I haven't been able to find it in there.  I ran into a former student/Walmart stocker and after chatting him up about his new baby (yes, this makes me feel old), I asked him if they carry Tahini paste.  I believe his response was "Ta-Huh?"  You know, it's used to make hummus, I told him.  "To make what?"   Uggghhh.

Anyway, this hummus had been in the fridge just a little too long, so I decided to see whether the backyard crew would like it as much as the indoor crew does.  Chickens and canine were both fans.  The chickens really made a mess of it, pecking and flinging it everywhere!

Does anyone local buy Tahini paste?  If so, where are you able to find it?

Thanks!

Surprise, the Chicks Are Here!

So, the last (and first time) our shipment of chicks arrived, I likened it to Christmas morning.  We had counted down the days and prepared for weeks for their arrival.  It was such a joyous occasion.  Today was joyous, but I'd liken it more to that "oh-we're-in-labor,-better-head-to-the-hospital" day.  We knew they'd be coming mid-September.  We'd originally thought that we'd get them this week, but we hadn't yet gotten the shipping notice.  So, we were surprised to get the phone call from the post office this morning at 7:00, asking us to please come pick up our chirpie chicks! 

We all scurried around.  Girl 2, our #1 chicken farmer, rushed around throwing shoes on and jumping in the van to accompany daddy to the post office. 

Their home in the garage had to be readied quickly.  Luckily, we already had all the feeders, waterers, and tubs cleaned and had feed ready to go.

Some quick assembly, and the chick habitat was ready to go!

Time to move in!  Unfortunately, one died in shipping.  You can see the poor little one in the top left of the box.  :(  It's pretty common, but it was a first for us.

This girl loves her chicks!

We'd orginally ordered a bunch more chicks, including more layers, but we canceled those and just went with broilers (meat chickens) this go round.  In fact, we decided to try a different breed altogether.  These chicks are Cornish Cross, which is much closer to what's grown in chicken houses today.  They reach maturity very quickly, which is good, but they have some other negatives that must be weighed in as well (that's another post altogether).  Because we'd ordered so many in our initial order, the company threw in a free "exotic breed" chick that they apparently didn't remove when we diminished our order.  You can see her/him in the above pic.  Girl 2 named it Cuddles.  It's the only one she was allowed to name (meaning that the others will all be dinner).

Getting acquainted with their new home

Goat Pedicures

For those who think that goat pedicures are right up there with chicken baths here at our backyard spa, be aware that The Backyard Goat claims that "Trimming your goat's hooves is the most important thing you can do to keep them healthy." Wow! If only I could get my doctor to say the same for me, I'd get to spend a lot more time in that awesome chair at Nail Spa!

Why is it so important? When their hooves get long, they may limp. If a goat's feet hurt, she won't graze as well and may lose weight. For a dairy goat, this would definitely affect milk production, too.

So far, we've trimmed Razz (our milker) and Honey (my favorite sweet goat). Pictured here is Honey. She's never been on the milking stand before, which is where we opted to try this so that she'd be better restrained. She did alright so long as we kept feed in the trough. John did have to lift her onto the stand and wrestle with her a bit, but we got the job done!

Anybody Ever Tried Barbecued Dog?

This was the sight that greeted me this morning on the backporch.

Yep, those are the carefully planted fall garden starts.  If you remember, I'd been tracking their progress, comparing the ones started in our compost to ones started in Miracle Grow.  Well, Dexter seems to think they tasted about the same.  Or at least the little newspaper pots rip equally well. 

Oh, the carnage! 

Okay.  There may have been some not-so-ladylike language and perhaps even a Croc shoe hurled in his direction.  Please suspend judgment.  It was, after all, before 6am on a Saturday.  And, no kids were around to hear the language or witness the violence.  And, I've been nursing these plants for a couple of weeks now. 

When John and I came home from running our 5K race this morning and were famished, just like the kids we came home to, I proposed barbecuing Dexter.  It was such a nice day out, we could just string him up over the fire pit, I told them.  We put it to a vote and I lost, 4-1, so I guess we won't be eating him, after all.   . . . Or maybe they just don't like the idea of barbecue.  Maybe they'd go for a little CrockPot Canine.  ;)

If my kids didn't love him so crazy-much, I'd be serious about finding him a new home.  Maybe I'm going to have to fence in my garden area. . . . and all the kids' toys . . .  and my outdoor furniture . . .

Uggghhh.  Even after the horror of discovering the dirt-strewn porch this morning, I couldn't help but smile as I watched him and Girl 2 chasing each other around the yard, -- she in her pajamas; he jumping like a trout on the line to higher than her head.  They absolutely love each other.  I think that if he and my garden could just figure out a way to peacefully coexist, we'd be good.

Suggestions?

They're Ovulating!

What?  Listen, ovulation talk is not off-limits on a homesteading blog! 

I'm so excited!  It seems our little pullets are blossoming into laying hens! 

Which of these doesn't belong?  (Hint:  top left)

Especially if hens lay their first eggs in the hotter temps of summer, those eggs tend to be very tiny.  Our older gals began laying in the fall and laid regular-sized eggs from the start, so this is our first experience with the cute, "wittle" eggs.

Considering how crazy these girls have acted since they arrived in the laying tractor, I'm glad that she figured out where and how to lay her egg.  I found it in the nesting box, right where it was supposed to be. 

Hopefully, it won't be long and all the gals will be on the same cycle (a la, my high school basketball team), and we'll be bringing in eggs by the basketful!

Chicken Weirdness

Our chicken tractor is currently filled to maximum occupancy (plus one.)  Prior to this week, it housed only 4 laying hens.  Then, we added the 5 Dominiques that we got as chicks and raised alongside the meat chickens and 4 Buff Orpington's, which we'd intended to be meat birds.  Maximum occupancy really should be 12, but the last of the Buffs we intended to slaughter Saturday morning was so scrawny that she'd be nearly worthless as meat, so we added her to the pen as well.  (We talked briefly about pulling out one of the other 3 we'd already added to the laying pen, but that just seemed cruel.) 

These are the veteran layers.  Notice how they're all at the door to greet me?  That's because they know what the newbie hens don't know yet:  I almost always come to the pen bearing treats!

These Buffs have been getting picked on, so they stay up on the ladder all day long so as not to get pecked.  In fact, one of the veteran layers laid her egg in the grass yesterday rather than in the nesting box, presumably because these Buffs were blocking entrance to the chicken house.

And, this one just hangs out in the house all day.  Weird.

At night, chickens tend to want to roost, or perch on a limb or bar, like we have available for them inside the chicken house.  This is a natural instinct, but because the meat tractor has no roosting poles, these newbie hens haven't had a chance to hone their roosting skills.  

Here you can see how all 4 of our older chickens are roosting, but the new gals haven't figured it out.  The first night, I picked the Dominiques up and placed them on the roosting pole.  Several of them fell off, though, because they had such poor balance.  Their balance is improving, though, because they can now get up the ladder, a task which proved daunting to them their first day in this tractor.

So, the equilibrium of the flock is definitely off right now.  Hopefully, over the next few days and weeks, the gals can all figure out how to get along with one another, and the newbies can get settled in to their new digs.  It won't be long, and they should begin laying!

Thoughts from This Morning's Chicken "Harvest"

We'd been planning to empty out the meat chicken tractor this coming Saturday morning.  We'd move the layers into the laying pen and "harvest" the rest (doesn't "harvest" sound much better than "slaughter" or "butcher"?).

But, a couple days ago, cousin and fellow homesteader Lauren texted us to let us know that her hens (sisters of our hens) had laid their first tiny eggs this week.  Yikes!  That's early! 

Anyway, we really didn't want ours to start laying while in the meat tractor (for several reasons that are probably only interesting to me, so I'll spare you.), so we moved them in with the big gals.  (More on how they're adjusting in a later post.)

Then, after carefully analyzing the, shall we say, egg-laying anatomy of the yellow chickens, we selected 4 of them to keep as layers as well. 

The rest of the yellow Buff Orpington's were headed for the restraining cone.

Here are some tidbits from today's harvest:

1.  Our kids watched a chicken lose its head.  Seeing it through their eyes was very interesting.  Little Boy looked on with interest.  Girl 2 had her eyes trained on her knife-wielding dad, as if to say, "How can you be doing this?"  Girl 1 thought it was pretty interdsting.  She even stuck around for the anatomy lesson involved in the rest of the processing, "This is kinda like dissecting a frog on the iPad!"

2.  Hearing a headless chicken's squawk is disturbing, but not nearly as disturbing as hearing it's head squawk a reply on its way to the trashcan.

3.  This breed may not work for us in the future.  Here's part of the reason why:

Do those look familiar?  Look a lot like egg yolks, don't they?

Here are some more, in varying sizes, inside the body cavity of the bird I was cleaning out.

Looks even more like an egg yolk now that it's been popped.

This chicken probably would've laid an egg this next week.  When you're raising chickens for meat, you really don't want them coming of laying age before slaughter.  But, this hybrid heritage breed grows so slowly that the hens only just now big enough to slaughter. 

In fact, this particular chicken could've provided us more calories through the eggs she'd lay us in her first month of laying than she will provide us through her meat.  Thinking about that made me pretty sad.

We may have to rethink our breed selection in the future. 

4.  I really like my husband.  I wouldn't rather have anyone else by my side for chicken slaughter. ;)   I loved how he took a minute with the kids before slaughtering that chicken today to explain to them how he always breathes a prayer before making the cut-- a prayer of thankfulness for the chicken's life and the food she will provide us.  Love that sentimental farmer!

Warning: PG-13 Post!

A couple weeks back, this poor Aracauna was trying so hard to lay her egg.  She just sat in the nesting box and worked on it . . . all . . day . . .long.  Poor gal.  She was really huffing, and I was pretty worried about her, so we did some reading that evening and learned that she may be "egg bound."  A condition more common in pullets, it basically means that for whatever reason she just can't seem to get her egg out.  She's definitely our smallest chicken, and we've had some really large eggs lately, so I was concerned that she wasn't going to be able to get it out . . . without help.

That's when we read that it sometimes helps to apply some KY jelly to her "vent" (the opening where it all comes out down there) and feel for an egg with your finger.  That's when we decided to give her another 30 minutes to try to work things out on her own.   And then another 30 minutes. 

And, then . . . yep, I donned those gloves and took care of business.  John was very impressed.

We gave her another hour or so, and she still seemed to be in distress, in fact, maybe more distressed than she'd been before the whole "procedure."  (Can you blame her?)

So, we decided it was time to give her a bath, which is supposed to help her relax so that things can progress.  So, we held her in a warm bubble bath for 30 minutes.  Actually, "we" is not exactly accurate.  Those are actually John's hands in those purple gloves, holding the chicken still for 30 very-long minutes.  He even let me take his picture as he was doing it.  It was my turn to be impressed.  I was there for moral encouragement, of course.  In fact, MeeMee (John's grandmother) popped in and kept us company on the backporch, too.  As I was walking her to the porch, I said, "MeeMee, you've had chickens.  Did you ever have to give one a bath?"  She just stopped walking, looked at me with dismay and exclaimed, "Heavens, no!"  I decided not to tell her about the KY.  ;)

It seems that bubble-bathing chickens is not exactly common practice.  But, we were down to 4 laying hens at the time, and I was determined not to lose this one.  Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Is it just me, or does she look pretty much the opposite of relaxed? 

This all took place a couple of weeks ago.  She never did lay that egg.  In fact, she took a break.  Until yesterday.  And, she laid again today, so she may be back in business.  According to our go-to chicken book, there are myriad reasons she may have taken her little laying hiatus. 

Anyway, it seems she's recovered from whatever was ailing her and the shock of being so horribly violated. 

In hindsight, we may have jumped the gun with the KY and bubbles, but it all turned out alright. We are, of course, novice farmers, just figuring this stuff out as we go.  But, the journey is lots of fun, and this episode has provided us with lots of laughs already!