Here a chick. There a chick. We don't have any chick-chicks.

I'm still in disbelief that we didn't have a broody hen this spring or summer. For the past two years our big mama, Erickson, has gone broody in June or July and we've hatched out some cute, fluffy baby chicks. Not this year. She must have decided she wasn't crazy enough to sit on a bunch of eggs in the heat for a month this go 'round.

I was ready this year too. I'd gone online and looked up a bunch of places that have fertile hatching eggs for sale. I wanted to get them local this year and try to hatch a breed we don't have. Something interesting. Something cool. I love the colored-egg layers or any chickens that have something unique about their appearance like a Polish or Silkie or Frizzle. I can think of at least a half dozen others I'd like to hatch out too, but I'll spare you my list. For now. I'd narrowed it down to couple of farms nearby, so I could order and pick up egg from whichever had them available when the time came. Well, I'm still waiting.

If you've even hatched chicks you know how fun it is. It's amazing watching a mama hen hatch eggs and the chicks are too cute for words. I love sitting by the coop while the little baby chicks peck around and figure things out. It's such a cool thing to get to watch them grow and become chickens. It's for all of those reasons I'm so sad we didn't get to experience chicks this year.

I don't know what the odds are of Erickson going broody next year after not being broody this past season. I'm hoping there's a shot. On the plus side for you guys, I'm going to find out when next spring rolls by and I'll be sure to share what happens. None of our other girls have ever been remotely interested in sitting, so I'm not holding my breath that anyone else will get to hatching. Keeping chickens has taught me not to count my chickens before they hatch. Literally. You don't know what you're going to get until it happens. I need to be better at not deciding what they're going to do before they do it. I know I shouldn't, but then I take something they do for granted (Erickson going broody) and I get schooled all over again.

Maybe no broody means I can convince my husband we should get already hatched chicks next year. Our local hardware store always has them in the spring. What am I talking about? He was completely against getting chickens in the first place and we've got nearly half a dozen chickens in the backyard now. We need to round that out to a full half dozen at least. I wonder when the hardware store usually has those chicks...

Soggy Hens

It has rained here for nearly a week. When I say "rained" I mean poured down buckets, torrential downpours, thunder storms, rained cats and dogs, monsooned, and any other description of insane amounts of rain of which you can think. It has been ridiculous. Yesterday was the first day we haven't gotten rain since last week. We haven't had this much rain in longer than I can remember, if ever. We're usually in a drought this time of year, so the city restricts when you can water your plants and wash your car. Not this year. We could probably turn on the hose and let it run for a week and no one would notice. Rain is great. We need it. However, there is no way we need this much rain in this little amount of time. Our chickens are going to build a tiny canoe and paddle away if we keep up with this trend.

The run is a mess. It's muddy. It's stinky. The girls look dirty and gross. Now some of you are probably judging me and thinking our coop/run is poorly situated or has bad drainage or we don't keep it clean. Quite the contrary. Our coop is situated so water will drain away from it based on the slope of the yard. We clean it weekly and sometimes bi-weekly in hot weather to decrease any propensity for stinkiness and flies. When you get five inches of rain in two days, no one can keep a coop and run clean. Earlier this week I threw a tarp over the portion of the run that's only covered by hardware cloth. It's helped keep some of the rain out so the dirt doesn't get any wetter and muddier. I wish I'd thought of it a day or two earlier. Poor girls. Even the part of the run that's always covered by a roof is still fairly gross. With as much rain as we've had, it's impossible to keep it out entirely. I'm pretty sure it was raining sideways at some point. Now we have five fat dirty hens clucking around out there. This is the time when it stinks to have feather-footed girls. Their feet are muddy and they look a mess. Then the eggs get covered in nasty mud when they get in the laying boxes.

The girls are not happy about the weather situation. They haven't had a lot of free-ranging this week, so they've been cooped up. Luckily, they've still been laying pretty well. When we have lots of bad weather they usually get disgruntled and laying becomes skimpy. It's probably because we've felt sorry for them and have brought them a ton of treats. I've likely given them half a loaf of bread in the last week. They love their carbs and I'm a sucker when it comes to them being stuck outside in the elements.

Non-chicken owners roll their eyes and laugh at me. I know they're chickens and they've lived outside forever. And it's not like we have a high tech set up for our chickens or anything. We don't have electricity in the coop. We don't have automatic feeders or waterers or chicken coop doors. We don't have a heater or a waterer that has a defrosting mechanism. Our girls get the basics. A coop, a fenced in run, a hanging feeder, a hanging waterer, and a small chick waterer (We got one when we had chicks and the big girls loved it, so we just keep it out there for them and fill it up when it gets empty. Apparently, it has the best water because they drink it right up.). I still think of them as pets though and hate that they get stuck out in the rain or cold or snow and ice. If we had a garage I can bet you I'd have them in there in the snow and when we have torrential downpours. So what if I have a flock of spoiled chickens?

The thing chicken owners know is the more spoiled the chicken, the better the eggs!

Chickens Definitely Love Waffles

This morning I did a few chicken chores. I filled up the little cup we keep attached to the hardware cloth in the coop for Oyster Shell grit; I checked for eggs; and, I gave the girls a treat. Today's treat consisted of week-old waffles. They'd been sitting in the fridge, so they were a bit dry. The chickens didn't mind.

Sometimes I'm a little concerned about needing to give the Heimlich Maneuver to a chicken. At one point our Brahma, Erickson, was trying to gulp down a big chunk of waffle. I'd torn it up into bits as I was throwing it into the run of the coop, but this bit was too big to be eaten in one piece. The other girls were tearing their pieces into smaller pieces by doing that thing where they whip their heads from side to side. Know what I mean? Apparently, Erickson didn't have time for that mess. She was hungry and she needed to consume as much waffle as possible before the other ladies got to it. After she tried to gulp it down in a way that looked like she was choking, she finally spit it out. I was glad. I don't want to have to chase a chicken around in order to stick my hand down its throat. Not my idea of fun times.

My idea of fun times is collecting eggs and getting a mama to go broody. No broodies yet, but we're deep into egg territory. Right now we have three and a half dozen in the fridge. It's getting a bit ridiculous, but I love it. Last weekend I made muffins and brownies. Gotta use those eggs somehow. And, who doesn't love brownies? It's a perfect excuse to make them. Maybe I need to perfect the making of meringue. Now that takes eggs. I could make a lemon meringue pie and maybe some baked alaska or something. I've never had baked alaska. Again, what a perfect excuse...

I need to head back out there to the coop at some point this afternoon to check for eggs again and to fill up the chick waterer. We don't have chicks right now, but the girls love that chick waterer. If we fill it up, it's empty the same day. I can't say I disagree. There's nothing better than fresh, cool water. If I got out there for water, I'm going to need to bring another treat unless I want a giant Brahma to jump on me. It's slightly terrifying. I'm pretty sure she knows it too.

Winter Eggs

We're usually in a horribly tight spot when it comes to eggs throughout the winter. Last year I went into a tirade about how I refused to buy eggs from the grocery store when I had perfectly good laying machines in my backyard. I may have even gone as far as to threaten our hens with the oven if they didn't get to it. Don't get me wrong; I understand that egg production drops in the winter. Does that mean I like it. No. Does that mean I enjoy getting two eggs a week? No. But, I also understand that it's important for chickens to have a break. I'd want a break too if I popped an egg out of my butt once a day.

This winter has been different. We had an early drop in eggs around November. The girls all seemed to molt early, so they stopped laying early. We were barely getting any eggs for easily two months. December egg laying was abysmal. Then January hit and the girls starting laying like it was April or May.

We're getting four eggs from our five hens about every other day. The other days we'll either get one or two. It seems Ocho is the only one who realizes it's still winter. I don't think she's laying yet. If she is, it's so infrequent that I can't tell she is. We've got a dozen eggs in the fridge right now. At one point last week I think we were nearly at two dozen. That's an egg miracle in January.

Now that we're launching into February and Punxsutawney Phil didn't see his shadow, we might even get up to five eggs a day! With our extra girl this year we're going to have even more eggs that we don't know what to do with. Belle, our newest edition, has been an excellent layer so far. She's our first girl to ever start laying in January; the others all waited until spring.

As for last winter, after my tirade I kept my promise not to buy eggs. I haven't purchased a single egg since our hens started laying. Now, did I make a quiche or a frittata last winter? You bet I didn't. But I didn't have to buy any eggs either! You have to bend to your supply.

So cheers to an early spring and delicious eggs. Now why have I only gotten this one egg today? They're just trying to prove me wrong. Freaking chickens.

Chocolate Eggs

Our coop is starting the new year off right. Belle's comb had been increasingly reddened lately and I'd started stalking her in anticipation of her first egg. (If you haven't tuned in lately, Belle is the Marans hen that we hatched this summer). Yesterday she laid her first chocolate egg!

We started off yesterday's especially cold morning with Belle squawking the morning announcement. Our girls generally get loud for only two reasons: they've either laid an egg or they've been spooked and they're sounding an alarm. I was crossing my fingers for reason number one, so I rushed to the coop to look for an egg. No luck. I'm sure you're confused now because I just got done saying she laid her first egg. Stay with me here.

Later in the afternoon, my husband had to kick Belle out of the coop a number of times while he was cleaning. As soon as he was done, she jumped right in there and got to sitting. I'm not sure how long she was in the nest box, but it felt like forever. You can believe that as soon as she came out of the coop, I ran right to the egg door and found a tiny chocolate-colored starter egg.

For any newbies out there, a starter egg is what people call the first egg a chicken ever lays. It's usually pretty tiny; it's Mother Nature's way of easing hens into laying. Over the next few weeks or month as she lays more frequently, her eggs will start increasing in size until they even off to be the size she'll continue to lay for the rest of her egg laying years. As with any newly laying hen, she'll also lay pretty infrequently over the next few weeks; though I suspect she may lay infrequently for the next month or two until we emerge from winter.

Belle's egg is on the left. On the right is an egg from Pouncey, one of our other girls.

She's the only hen we've raised so far who's started laying in the middle of January. Our other hens held off until spring. Maybe she'll be a super layer. I've seen Marans described as medium layers, but I've also seen some of the other breeds we have listed as medium layers and they lay tons of eggs. Egg laying seems pretty relative to your situation and particular birds in my experience, so I'm hoping Belle will be like our other girls and lay eggs like crazy. We feed them enough deliciousness to keep them happy that they ought to lay plenty of eggs.

Her one tiny egg is pretty promising, but when you're in the days of only a few eggs a week, a new layer is monumental. Add in the awesome new egg color, and we're suddenly in egg heaven. My husband couldn't help himself and fried up that tiny egg this morning. Apparently it was delicious on toast. Too bad it wasn't wrapped in actual chocolate like those Cadbury eggs. I could go for one of those every now and again. I'd probably get sick of them after getting four or five a week for six months, so never mind on the chocolate. I'll stick with the chocolate-colored ones.

Ghosts, Goblins, and Naked Neck Chickens

It's November 1st and we're full on into what I'll call "winter production." By "winter production" I mean one egg a day. It looks like we only have one of four eligible hens laying (number five is still a pullet and too young to be laying yet). Erickson's pulling her weight by laying an egg a day, but that's only because she molted quite a bit after hatching eggs in July, so she isn't using all of her energy right now growing new feathers. Not to mention, we're a few days away from clocks falling back an hour and we're having such short days. Shorter daylight, fewer eggs. Oh, well. That's chicken keeping for you. 

They're in serious molt mode right now too. One of our chickens, Ocho, is looking like a Naked Neck. If you haven't seen these scary chickens, please do a quick Google search. They freak me out. She has almost no neck feathers right now. She looks like we've prepared her to be culled or something. It's pretty sad looking. Then there's Pouncey who likes like she has a mean case of the mange. She's a hot mess. This picture is from two weeks ago, so you can imagine what she looks like now. She's usually much more robust and fluffy.

Besides the diminishing eggs supply, now is also a bummer of a time to be a chicken keeper because it is freaking cold outside at night. When the temp drops we start closing the door to the actual coop at night to try help keep the chickens a little warmer. I know what you're thinking. Chickens have been living outside for a thousand years. They won't freeze to death when it's not even below freezing. You are a crazy woman. I'm well aware. But they're my chickies and I can't help myself. They're spoiled babies. If my two years of chicken keeping have taught me anything, it's that a happy chicken is normally a more productive chicken, so I try to keep them happy. Even when they aren't all laying me delicious eggs. I've been cursing them a little bit while walking out to the coop in the dark at 6:15 am, but I still love them. They'll make it up to me later.

They're currently all nestled together in a pack on top of the nesting boxes. All six of them. Not a single chicken is on the roost. I wouldn't be on the roost either if I was molting and my ass was naked. Can you imagine the draft? 

Happy Halloween, everyone! 

Love, my pumpkin-devouring mangy chickens. 

Here a Bath, There a Bath...

Here are two of our girls taking a dust bath this afternoon. They are quite happy to have access to the former Maternity Ward.

Happy Day in the Coop

The chicks are seven and a half weeks old, so today the Walls of Jericho have been taken down eliminating The Maternity Ward. They're one big, happy family now. 

The littles seem to like the new digs because they have more area to roam and new things to explore (i.e. the coop). The big girls are happy because they regain access to the prime dust bath spot. Bossy and Pouncey didn't waste any time digging right in. See above.

Space and the recent torrential downpours are why I took down the hardware cloth separator between the two areas. The babies are getting big. They're not too little to be around the big girls and because they're getting bigger, the little area provided by The Maternity Ward is sufficient, but doesn't seem like a fair amount for them to be stuck in for most of the day. Then, there's the rain. Over the last few weeks it has rained a lot. As soon as the ground dries it seems to rain again, making the main coop too wet and muddy for the bug girls to be able to get a good dust bath. The Maternity Ward side is completely covered by a wooden roof and due to positioning the ground on that side is barely ever wet. Remove the barrier between the two sections and the problem is solved. The littles get roam of three times the space they had before and the big girls get dirt that is always dry and good for dusting.

Last year we had a few little tiffs when the two mini flocks were joined, but today I haven't seen any major issues. I don't know if it's because these babies are bigger than last year's or because they're calmer and seem less nervous, which makes the big girls calmer, or if it's because the big girls have had plenty of time to put the littles in their place while everyone has been out free ranging in the yard. Whatever it is, we've had a happy day in the coop. They're like the Brady Bunch out there. Er, The Chicken Bunch.

Molting Falls in Autumn

September is knocking on the door as the feathers start dropping all over the coop. It's time for cooler air, crispy leaves, and half-naked chickens who are falling down on their laying duties. I know what you're thinking: It's the last day of August. Chill out with the fall talk. Tell that to my chickens that have decided it's time to take a break from laying.

One of our girls is starting in hard on her molting. Her feathers are everywhere. I suppose I shouldn't get into a tizzy because she does deserve the break. She's a champion egg layer any other time of year. But one or two of the other girls are trying to follow her lead. I haven't seen huge piles of anyone else's feathers, but I am seeing only one egg a day when we have three girls who should be laying (#4 is still playing Mama to her babies). Sigh.

The other reason I shouldn't be freaking out is the fact that they need to molt. All chickens molt and either stop laying or slow down to a near stop. They need a break. And if I had to regrow an entire body full of feathers, I'd probably stop laying eggs too. The shorter days of fall usually trigger the molting response. I'm sure there's also some internal clock thing going on too. It's like birds migrating for winter or salmon swimming upstream to lay eggs. They just know what to do and when to do it. Since we're not a crazy factory farm or anything, we don't keep the lights blazing on them all year long, which is the only way to force chickens to keep on keepin' on instead of molting and being (in money making terms) "useless" for any number of weeks. Hey. They look mangy for a month or so; they take an egg hiatus; and, they take advantage of the fact that my five-year-old son doesn't completely like pizza or sandwich crusts yet. I owe them that much for making delicious, practically free food the rest of the year.

Truth be told, I went out to the coop the other day and told them I knew what they were up to and they'd better get to laying. But, that was before I thought about what time of year it was. Maybe I should be glad that our chickens just like to get their molting done nice and early. All except one that is. Last year we were entering into literally freezing temperatures while Ocho was halfway into her molt and still sporting a bald backside. More power to her. I just hope they hurry up and get back to laying. I've got some quiche to make.

What? She Lost the Chicks!

Over the weekend, I had all of the chickens out in the yard while I cleaned the coops - the main coop, where the big girls stay, and The Maternity Ward, where Mama and babies are living for now. Everyone was out and about clucking, chirping, and foraging when I heard Mama make a strage sound I'd never heard before. I can't even describe it. I was elbow deep in litter and chicken poop, but I paused and thought, That was weird, but I went about my business until a few moments later when I thought, What if that was the danger sound and there's a hawk or a giant owl sitting out there (We once had a hawk swoop down and perch on my son's swing set in the backyard while the chickens were loose in the yard. My husband had to shoo it away). I stuck my head out of the coop and looked around to where Mama had been foraging with the chicks. There was Mama standing tall and straight and still, but I didn't see her chicks anywhere.

I went from zero to one hundred in two seconds. My exact thought was, She lost the chicks! I thought they'd wandered away and were God knows where. I came out of the coop and looked around again until I finally saw one of the babies crouched down in the overgrown grass close to where Mama was standing still. Phew! I walked over to them and nearly stepped on chick #2, who was also hiding in the grass. Then it clicked. She did make the danger sound either because something startled her or just so she could teaching her babies. Mama was probably thinking Calm it down, Food Lady. I mean, if she didn't lose any of the five chicks she had last year, why would I think she'd lose one of two chicks this year? I can't help it. I'm a worrier.

Amazingly, they knew what the sound meant and they listened right away and kept still. I didn't give her the chance to tell them everything was okay and they could stop hiding because of my irrationality. She's teaching these chicks all the time just like she did with her last chicks. She finds food while foraging and makes a specific sound to let them know she has food. Of course, they come running and check it out right away. She shows them how to dust bathe and where to go when it's bedtime. They're always following right along. It's the best part of having a hen raise chicks rather than hatching them or buying day-old chicks to raise yourself. Does it work? Yes. Do the chicks grow up just fine and become perfectly fine chickens? Yes. But do you get to see them being tiny copies of their mamas? No.

I can tell you. Watching Mama and babies is too cute for words.

Nuthin' But A Broody Mama

If you've never had a broody hen or you find them as hilariously insane as I do, you'll enjoy this short clip of Erickson, our residential brooder, being strange and quite vocal about it while she was off her eggs during one of her daily incubation breaks.

She would make those clucking noises almost the entire time she was off the nest. It's like she was telling the eggs, "Hey! I'm close by and coming right back." The only time she didn't make noise during this particular break was during her preening. Of course, she wasn't dust bathing daily as she was too busy turning eggs all day, so she would shake her feathers and preen her wings for a majority of the time she was off the eggs. After five or so minutes, she'd head right back to her nest. What a good Mama.

Brooding Sure is Hard to Do

Day 4 of brooding. Our fluffy mama is doing a great job. If not also a weird job.

Erickson spends most of her day sitting on her clutch, of course. She has been fairly smart this time around. When we let the chickens out to forage and give them treats, she takes a break from her eggs, gets something to drink, scratches around, stretches and grooms a bit before heading back in to the coop to take up her post as incubator. She makes some crazy clucking sounds the entire time she's off the eggs as if to call to them so they know she's right outside and not to worry. That or she's warning any lunatics who might try to steal her eggs that she'll peck their eyes out if they even think about touching them.

Now, she's still a chicken. And chickens' brains are only so big. Erickson has proven to be a good brooder and a good mama, so I won't judge her too much, but yesterday we had an incident. Another chicken laid an egg in one of the empty nest boxes next to Erickson's clutch while Erickson was out and about on her daily incubator break. When she went back into the coop she decided to sit on the lonely unfertilized egg rather than on the dozen eggs she has been sitting on for the past three days. I never said chickens were the smartest animals on the planet. She must have taken one look at that single egg and thought, "What do you think I am? A sucker? Why spend my time warming, turning, and rotating all those eggs when I could take care of this one little egg?" My husband checked on her and seeing that she had not made the best choice, at least in hatching terms, he stole the one egg from under her fluff-butt. She hopped up and ended up settling herself back on the correct nest. Maybe I should take back my judgment of stupidity and say that maybe chickens are geniuses. Erickson's no sucker.

Hers can't be the most glorious job in the flock. I'd much rather be Pouncey, who since Erickson's departure from normal flock activities, has taken up the post of frantically pacing back and forth in front of the door to the run whenever she sees human activity. See, it's been ridiculously hot the last two days and I feel bad that Erickson's stuck in that coop keeping a dozen eggs warm. It's like she's sitting next to a space heater and it's 105 degrees outside. Literally. This has to be the worst week for a chicken to be broody. If it we're me, I'd do my egg hatching in the early spring when it isn't so hot. But I guess you can't time these things out like that. She seems to like June-July for hatching chicks. If they hatch right on time, my husband and I might get chicks as our 8th wedding anniversary present. That wouldn't be too shabby. But, how can I top that next year? Maybe a goat or pig will be in order. Hmm...

It's a Waiting Game

It's June and we're three days into summer. It's ridiculously hot outside. Twice this week it hit ninety degrees. Today it's supposed to be around eighty-six degrees, but according to the weatherman it feels like ninety-one. Super awesome, huh? The chickens are weathering the heat with their usual indifference. They're keeping a low profile, lying in their giant dirt holes and trying to keep cool with dust baths. All except one that is. One fat Mama is currently trying for a second round at motherhood.

All Spring we waited patiently. Okay. We waited impatiently for one of our girls to go broody. Early in the season we had one girl taking her time to lay eggs and got our hopes up that she was getting ready to go broody. I got my hopes up enough that I picked out what type of fertile eggs I wanted to get and did a price comparison online. But, since I did all that research, she went right back to normal after a day or two and didn't think twice about setting on anything. I'm pretty sure I've said it before, but that's how chickens roll.

Erickson, our Brahma, is trying her hardest to hatch our girls' eggs right now. It makes me a little sad. I tilt my head to one side and make the "bless her heart" face when I go out there and see her sitting on those three unfertilized eggs. Once I walk away though, I forget about the hopelessness of her current situation and think about the exciting possibility of more baby chicks! They're ordered and getting ready to be shipped. I'm ready and raring to go. This time around, I'll be able to wait with excited anticipation instead of furiously scouring the internet for all the hatching-by-broody-hen information I can find. Trust me. There isn't much out there, but that's because you don't need to do anything more than have the hen sit on the eggs. That's it. Last year I was constantly checking on her and worrying and reading about hatching and what I needed to know about chicks when I should have been sitting back with my legs kicked up waiting to hear the little peeps of baby chicks.

I do find it funny that Erickson is the only hen who wants to hatch eggs. I'm not complaining. I love my fresh eggs and if we had a 50% or 75% broody hen rate, I would be tough out of luck on delicious scrambled eggs and quiche. Having three hens be perfect production girls is great. They lay eggs all the time, eat layer feed and treats, hunt for bugs and take dust baths. They are not interested in hanging around in the coop on a bunch of eggs they have to turn continuously for three weeks. It does sound pretty sucky doesn't it? If my butt was as fluffy and fat as Erickson's, maybe I wouldn't mind sitting in there either.

Long Time, No See

It's been awhile, hasn't it? My last post was written in the days after Thanksgiving and December with Christmas parties, Christmas shopping, my son's birthday, some new creative projects I've been working on with a friend and everything that goes with those things, there hasn't been much time left to write about my lovely chickens. Now I'm back and it's nice to be back. Where we left off, my lovely Silkie died after a few days of bringing her home and my beloved rooster, Boba, had literally flown the coop. It was a sad time in chickens. As expected, Boba did not find his way back home and I'd like to think he's living it up somewhere, but he was more likely eaten by the hawk that lives in our neighborhood and who has made two appearances in our backyard to size up my chickens. I've made my peace with it. Hopefully, he's learned to crow in chicken heaven.

In other aggravating chicken news that I had previously mentioned, our chickens had started molting in early November. Well, some of them were molting. Bossy was all about molting. And she was all business about it. She lost most of the feathers around her head at once and all of her bum feathers fell out in what seemed like two days. She looked like a sorry mess. Then, Erickson decided molting was a good idea and she started looking mangy. She's about two tons of feathers, so you can imagine what our chicken coop looked like. I was cleaning it out every weekend and taking out so many feathers, I could've built a fifth and probably sixth chicken! Pouncey soon followed suit, as she seems to do with everything in life; she waits until some of the others have tried something out first and when she has decided it's safe, she joins in. That made for three chickens out of egg commission. Not good. Ochocinco was still laying a little, but not daily. One egg every three days is not going to cut it. I am proud to say I did not buy any eggs at the store! (That was partially avoided due to the two dozen eggs supplied to us by The Chicken Man). Buying eggs was out of the question. Heck no was I buying eggs when we have four hens in our backyard.

Lucky for us, as I said before, Bossy was all business when it came to molting. She got straight down to losing feathers. She also started losing some scales on her legs, which made me fear she had mites and slather her legs with Vaseline. She did not have mites. Upon further observation and research, I found out that chickens often shed their leg scales during molting. Bossy, I'm sorry for chasing you down, holding you upside down, and smearing greasy Vaseline all over both of your legs. The peeling scales did look gross, but trust me when I say you do not want to unnecessarily smear petroleum jelly all over a chicken. Her legs and feet were even more disgusting-looking with the Vaseline coated in feathers, cedar chips, and dirt. Avoid this yucky scene if at all possible. However, it is supposed to be a great cure for leg mites. I would take the nasty legs and feet over mites. Despite the leg mishap, Bossy started laying again in early December.

Now back to the molting... Ochocinco waited until the coldest weather settled in to start molting. The only nice part to this timing was that we always had one hen in egg production. Bossy was back to nearly an egg a day. By mid-December and Erickson wasn't far behind. Pounced trailed just a week or two after the other two and we're back to three eggs a day now. Ochocinco looked the mangiest of all the girls. Her neck feathers all fell out so that she looked like a naked neck, which freaked me out. She lost her tail feathers at the same time, so she was quite a sad-looking little girl. The first week we had freezing cold weather was when she decided she'd molt. I called it too. That's how she rolls. She does what she wants, when she wants regardless of what everyone else is doing. She's the only one who is not back in production mode.

The post molting egg laying has been a surprise. Our girls were so young last year that they didn't go through the winter molt. They'd too recently gone through their molt from baby feathers to big girl feathers and they weren'tlaying yet, so we didn't have any experience with this part of chickens. Since they started laying again, their eggs shave been crazy! Bossy's eggs are still jumbo, but they're often so long that you can't close the egg carton. Erickson's eggs have always been oval-shaped, but they are now dimpled or crooked or strangely pointy. What is up with the mutant eggs now? Maybe they'll go back to normal when the weather warms up. Maybe they're just laying them more slowly in the cold weather and that's why they're coming out all wonky. We'll see.

At least we live in a pretty mild climate here in North Carolina. Last year when we got snow they were quite concerned. I can't imagine what they'd do if we got a nor'easter! We have had some interesting autumn weather, so we'll see what winter brings. I've got plenty of scratch and vegetable greens. As long as they're happy enough to continue laying, I'm good.

Occupy the Chicken Coop

The weather is getting chilly. The days are shorter. Now it's dark by dinner time. Chickens everywhere are molting. And all of these facts mean that eggs are becoming scarce commodities. Eggs have become so rare around our house that I don't check the egg boxes everyday anymore. I'm getting ready to make a picket sign and camp out in the backyard chanting, "Hell no I won't go." "Eggs, eggs, edible eggs. Lay me eggs. Don't make me beg!"

With our girls being procrastinators, we only have one chicken, Bossy, in full molt. She looks like a hot mess. Her bum is nearly bald. She looks like she has a receding hairline, and she has feathers falling off of her constantly. She may be completely bald by next week at the rate she's going now. Erickson, our Brahma, is shedding her leg feathers, so it looks like she's wearing spats (think Spats Colombo in Some Like It Hot), but she doesn't seem to feel like molting anywhere else. She still lays eggs intermittently - maybe twice a week, three at best. Pouncey is heading into full-blown mangy molt. Her feathers are beginning to drop like flies. I could build a bantam hen out of her feathers alone that I picked up out of the coop and run this weekend. She looks a bit pathetic, but nowhere near as sad as Bossy. Then we have Ocho. She may have only lost four feathers so far. I'm not kidding. I fear she has decided she's going to put off molting as long as she possibly can. She has willpower. What will happen is she'll be half naked when winter comes and she'll freeze her bum off. Then, I'll feel terrible that she's out in the cold. My mean husband says no house chickens though, so she'll be out there freezing. I'm sure she'll tell me all about it when I go out to open the coop in the morning and bring them treats. My problem right now is that she is also not producing eggs. I mean, the least she could do while she's putting off her molt is to keep me in eggs. And last but not least, the little bantam rooster is still not crowing, but he's not an egg producer either so right now he's just adding to my egglessness. Not cool, Boba.

I absolutely refuse to buy eggs in the store. I do not have four hens in my backyard so I can buy crappy, watery, factory-produced (I already went on my rant about that one, so I'll spare you the details) eggs for $3.29 a dozen. I mean, after eating fresh eggs for a year, I don't know that I'd be able to identify the yolk in one of those junky store-bought eggs. I've been spoiled. I have come to expect a certain level of quality in my eggs. I like to walk outside and come back in with enough eggs to make a three-egg omelet anytime I want. With the holidays fast approaching, I'm concerned that I'll have to break down and actually pay for eggs so I can bake and cook the things I love to eat this time of year. I want to make fresh egg nog for my hubby. You can't make good, quality homemade egg nog with weak store-bought eggs!

So I propose a mass protest against backyard chickens across America. These chickens can't run us! We run them! They're our chickens! Don't let them take advantage of us anymore. Put on your warm clothes. Make a few picket signs. And settle in for the long haul. It's time to start protesting. I'm already working on my chants, "Eggs. Eggs. Where's my eggs? Lay my eggs or I'll eat your chicken legs!" Who's with me?

Coop of Personality

Here's my ultimate wisdom from my near year of raising chickens. Wait for it. Wait for it. Every chicken is different. Aren't you amazed? The thing is, I mean it. I'm a planner and a researcher. I majored in English in college and went on to perform a short stint as a high school English teacher. I love writing a good research paper. More than writing the paper, I love researching for a paper. I carry this skill with me in my regular life (as I'm sure you're starting to pick up on if you've read any of my other blog posts). I read a bunch of books and did hours of research online before we got chickens. I read about their development, the different breeds and their characteristics, coop design, predator problems, feeding chickens, and anything else I stumbled upon in my quest for chicken knowledge. I'm still reading and learning about chickens and I'll have gotten chickens a year ago come October. Along with all that I've learned during my research, I've also learned that everything you read is not going to be true for your chickens. Hence my epiphany: every chicken is different.

What I mean by this remarkable piece of knowledge is that just because a chicken is a particular breed or gender, does not mean that he or she will follow the standard protocol you've read. Take the Brahma. They are a dual purpose breed (meaning they are raised both for eggs and meat) who are medium layers (in terms of frequency), are often known to go broody, lay well throughout the winter, have a docile temperament, and bear confinement well. My buff Brahma hen, Erickson, was docile until she went broody and hatched her clutch. Now, months later, she is trying to usurp the top spot in the pecking order, is mean to the hens lower than her in the pecking order, and clamors to get out of the run whenever someone goes out to open the door (to let them out or not). She is an excellent layer, laying a medium-sized brown egg at least 6 days a week. So she follows the standard protocol about half of the time. On the other hand, you may have a breed of hen that most people say are great layers and never go broody and yours lays half the time and has tried to go broody twice in as many months. I've learned that it's nice to read the information and get a baseline for the kinds of breeds in which you're interested, but don't be discouraged when things don't go the way you've planned and know that it doesn't mean your particular girls (or boys) are going to do what the internet says they should be doing.

We, as adult human beings, are wired for disappointment. We get all excited and set our expectations for one thing and have a long way to fall when those expectations aren't met. I say, don't do that with your chickens. But honestly, I think they're so cute and so much fun that they make it pretty hard on you to be too let down. Will you be sad when half of your chicks turn out to be roosters and you can't keep all of them? Yes. Will you hate it when none of your chickens are super duper friendly like you've seen on BYC and you think you've done something wrong because none of them will jump up into your lap? Uh, yeah. Will you be disappointment when your "Easter Egger" lays brown eggs instead of blue or green or pink eggs? Big time - I know about this one first hand. Will you love all of your chickies more than you thought you could love birds that live in your backyard? Sure thing. And that's what happens to just about everyone who starts a backyard flock. Then one day, you'll be a salty old veteran chicken farmer and you'll roll with the punches. I try to keep my sodium levels down, but I'm pretty excited about getting to the salty old stage.

Crazy Freakin' Chickens

I'm finally back after a bout with strep throat. I'm glad  to be back. Today was the first day I've spent any quality time with the chicks since I got sick over a week ago. I sat with them while they free ranged in the yard and fed them treats. They were jumping around and off the ground to get the treats as I was handing them out. I even got one of the bantams, a little roo, to take food out of my hand! That's a first. The bantams are such spazs that they've not been easy to domesticate.

In terms of the spaz mob, we've had a major change since August. There are two less bantam Japanese-Old English Game roosters in our coop. They now reside in the countryside where I went to high school in Oxford, North Carolina. Their new dad, someone with whom I went to high school, is a big time chicken lover and so are his two little girls. I know those little roo's - Luke and Han - went to a good home. They were in their little temporary pen preening and checking things out when we left them. Back at home, the others don't seem to notice that they're gone. Their absence has to be good for the remainder of the flock because space was getting a little cramped with five bantams growing like weeds out there. Nighttime roosting was getting tight and treats don't go as far with five extra mouths to feed. Next month the final bantam rooster will be moving out to live with The Chicken Man. And then there will be two bantams and our four original big mamas. Here's to hoping the absence of so many tiny roadrunners will allow my girls to calm down again. They've gotten awfully pushy lately.

For some reason the chickens have become especially crazy in recent weeks. When we go out to feed them, they are all over the coop and jumping and trying to get out the door when you open it. I literally have to put my foot on Erickson's chest when I open the door to bring them their morning treats. For one thing, the dogs go out in the yard with me in the morning and we would probably have one less chicken if they got out when the dogs are out. And two, I don't have thirty minutes of leisure time in the morning to let them out to forage in the yard. They do not look kindly upon short stints of freedom. They revolt actually. They've always been fond of their treats, as I wrote about last time, but lately they've become little savages. They now try to tear your hand off when you're dolling out the treats while pounding the hell out of each other to steal each others finds. It's insanity. I'm not sure what has started the crazy savagery except what I mentioned above: treats are thin with five more mouths to feed. Yes, we generally bring out more scraps than we did when there were only four girls, but I'm sure the ratio of treats to chickens has shrunk. I only have so many scraps from a family of three people!

Besides the food savagery, the tiny bantams are balls of nerves that have to be making the big girls anxious. The littles are like roadrunners and doves all rolled into one. They fly around in the coop when they get scared or nervous and if you saw them from afar you'd think we were keeping doves or pigeons out there. Except that they are the fastest little chickens I've ever seen. Image me and my husband wrangling them up and trying to put them in a pet carrier for transport last week. It was crazy. It didn't take very long; I'm pretty good in my chicken catching skills. Our only major problem was that one escaped after he was captured and put in the carrier, so we had to start over and catch another one. I'm sure our neighbors, who happened to be in their backyard while all of this drama was transpiring, got a nice show. We must have looked like lunatics out there. Let's not talk about how my four-year-old son thought one of the roosters was dead because of the way he was hanging (seemingly limply) from my hand when I was holding him upside down by his legs until I could get him in the carrier.  It may be standard chicken handling to most chicken-savvy adults, but not to a four-year-old, albeit it a chicken-savvy one.

So I have a crazed mob for a flock of chickens and we're headed into fall and winter. Bossy, the Barred Rock and once head of the pecking order (I'm trying to figure out if she's still in charge. Erickson has become pretty witchy and is throwing her weight around a lot lately), started molting a bit. She looks a little ragged right now with her head and bum feathers a little sparse. I'm waiting for the rest of her to molt all at once so she looks like she has the mange. That would be just like her to do. Then the eggs will begin to taper off. I'm most sad about that part of the coming months. I love our delicious eggs. That's okay. I'm trying to convince my husband to add a Silkie to our flock, so seven chickens would certainly give us enough eggs to make it through the winter, don't you think?

Growing Chicks

When we decided to let our broody Brahma hatch eggs, I was terrified, as I've mentioned before. I had no idea what I was doing. And as our happy soon-to-be Mama hen sat on all of these eggs, I suddenly realized we were in way over our heads with this one. Of course, I kept that little piece of thought to myself as my husband was originally less than thrilled to get chickens in the first place. He had grown to love them and was totally behind the idea of letting our Brahma hatch some eggs to get over her broodiness, but I felt like this was my venture so I needed to know what I was doing. And, I assumed my husband expected that I knew what I was doing. Why else would I have been so hung ho about hatching chicks? I am the chicken lady in our family. So, I took to the internet and checked out a new chicken book from the library (I'm nothing if not a planner and researcher) and I've already written about hatching those cute babies.

Once they were here, I scoured all of my resources including the two chicken books I already own and could find little in terms of a timeline for my expected babies. I wanted pictures. I wanted charts. I wanted to know what to expect and when to expect it. Now, I understand that all chickens are different. Raising chicks is like raising children in the fact that all the "What to Expect" books and the parenting magazines warn you that all children are different and some develop at a slower or faster rate than others. But I seriously wanted some sort of flow chart to follow so I'd know what to expect. Why hasn't anyone written a What to Expect When You're Expecting Chicks book? It could start with the development of the chick in the egg as it's sat on by the hen. Then the chapters could be divided by week with each week having a description of the types of things your chicks should be doing and thing they might start doing. Then it could answer common questions people have about raising chickens. I mean, this sounds like a money maker to me. I've read the chicken forums. People raise chickens and hatch eggs and have no idea what they're doing. This sucker would be a huge seller in hardware and feed stores. Just saying.

I'm going to give a basic timeline for the clutch of chicks we hatched. I'm going to start at hatch and go through 8 weeks. They're a few days away from being 11 weeks old. The biggest changes happened between hatching and 8 weeks. The past few weeks they've mostly just grown and integrated more and more with the flock, so in terms of development it's not as exciting as those first 2 months. You may find that your hatching experience is different or that your breed of chicken developed differently or at a different pace. I completely expect that to be true and I'd love for you to share your experiences below. I've only experienced the hatch of one clutch, so that's all I have to go on.

This is the story of 5 Japanese-Old English Game Bantams. Keep in mind they are super tiny since they're bantams. Let's get started:

Week 1: It took three days for all of the eggs to hatch. When they first hatch out, they're super tiny and look wet, but within the first hour they become the fluffy little chicks you expect. They make constant peeping sounds.

This is the first baby to hatch. She's less than an hour old.

Here they are on Day 2.

Week 2: They are all out and about. They stick to Mama as closely as possible. When she finds food she makes a particular clucking sound that alerts them that she has something to eat and they come running. They still look like little fluff balls except by the end of this week their wings are feathering out and they're starting to grow tiny tail feathers. The color of their fluff is not necessarily any indication of the color of their feathers. They're easily caught and picked up, though they make frantic peeping noises when you do it. During the day they are super active. They like to scratch around a little in the dirt. They climb all over Mama's back and sit on her. Sometimes they try to burrow under her wings when she's sitting with them. They like to sit in the sun and sun themselves. They take lots of little naps during the day - they'll just plop down somewhere in the dirt and fall asleep. Peeping is still constant. At night, they all climb into the nest box and burrow deep under Mama. You can't even tell they're there.

 They're getting ready for bedtime and are about to climb in and burrow under her wings

 and in the back of the box under her bum for the night. 

Week 3: Feathering continues and the chicks' backs and chests begin to sprout feathers. The tail fathers have grown out longer. They preen themselves obsessively. They still stay fairly close to Mama and she still gives the food call. They eat and drink when they're hungry, but take a lot of cues from Mama. They forage when she does and stick close most of the time, but once in awhile one or two chicks wander off a little in the run and scratch and forage for themselves. They're beginning to realize that if they hide in the corner, they have more of a chance to eat what they've found or stolen away from the others! (Note: This week was the week of the 4th of July. We were out of town most of this week and my sister chick-sat, so there aren't any example chick pictures.) 

Week 4: They're roosting now. They've nearly tripled in size since they hatched. They are now strange chick/chicken hybrids. They have fuzzy chick heads and feathered bodies. Their chests are in the final stages of feathering, so there's still a little fuzz poking out in places. Still constant peeping from everyone. Mama is still mothering them and they mostly stick close to her, but they go off on their own a lot. They generally stick to the buddy system and have at least one other chick around near them at all times. Some of them still try to snuggle with Mama when she's laying in the sun. They even interrupt her dirt baths to get on top of or near her. Personally, we let the chicks out to free-range with Mama at this age. They stick right by her and love scratching for bugs and tidbits all over the yard. She does not let the other adult hens near them and gives a warning call before attacking if someone gets too close for comfort. Their combs are much more pronounced. If you're familiar with chickens and hatching at all, you can generally tell by the comb how many roosters and hens you have at this point (some breeds make this identifying a little harder, so it's not always the easiest task). I can tell that we have at least two roosters at this point. They're very curious. A piece of hardware cloth divided the chicks and Mama from the rest of our flock. The two areas were next to each other, so they could see each other through the wire and spent lots of time contemplating each other. 

Roosting on the mini-roost we put up for the chicks and on part of the coop structure dividing the two areas. 

A close up of one of the roosting roosters. Notice the still fuzzy head. 

Week 5: Their heads are working on catching up with the rest of their body! Feathers are sprouting, but you can still see a little fluff too. They actually look like mini chickens now and not chicks anymore. I won't be able to call them babies for much longer (though I'll continue calling them chicks throughout this entire piece to be consistent). Their combs are even more pronounced than last week and it seems that we have 2 hens and 3 roosters. When they're out free-ranging, the chicks will wander a little farther away from Mama. She's still in their sights, but they'll go quite a few feet away without worrying. One of the chicks is  a free adventurous spirit and goes off halfway across the yard by himself. At the end of this week we integrated the chicks with the rest of the flock. They've been free ranging for nearly two weeks and the adult hens and the chicks have free-ranged alongside each other without any problems (besides Mama getting cranky). A pecking order has to be established, so some pecking and chasing has ensued; otherwise, the merging of the two coops is going well for us. Oh, I almost forgot. Still with all the peeping. 

Week 6: This week is more of the same: they are growing bigger, continuing to peep, loving to forage and scratching for anything edible. They love bugs. Big time. They've gotten the routine down from the big hens. They join in with the rest of the flock when it's time for The Food Lady to appear. They love treats. They are super fast little buggers and it's an event to catch one of them. But you know I do it anyway.  

Week 7: There is no sign of fluff on the "chicks" anymore. Since they're bantams, their size is the only thing that still makes them look like chicks. The roosters have nice tall combs and beautiful iridescent tail feathers. The girls are fat little beauties. They're still growing rapidly. It's not so apparent when you look at them every day, but looking back at pictures from just a few weeks ago shows how much bigger they've gotten. They are just like any other member of the flock. They do everything the big hens do. I haven't seen them dust bath with my own eyes, but I'm sure they must be doing it when I'm not around. That's the only thing that I can't check off my list of "chickenish" things I know they do. They scratch and stretch their wings. They eat out of the big hens' feeder  (even though we still have their chick feeder in the coop) and they've started using the big waterer too. They roost a lot. It's one of their favorite pastimes. Mama occasionally makes a little food alert noise when they're foraging and they still follow her around to a point, but this week seems to show the biggest difference in terms of their dependence on her. They're almost to the point where they are just other members of the flock. (This week also happens to mark the first egg laid by Mama since becoming broody). They're now spending a lot of time establishing a pecking order between themselves. They get into little duels with their neck feathers all fluffed out. It's hilarious to watch.

Scratching in front of their big Mama.

Week 8: The chicks are now simply other members of the flock. Mama is nice to them, but she doesn't help them with food. I actually saw her grab some treats away from some of them when I was giving them their morning treat. They still have a bond with Mama though. When she goes in to lay eggs, some of them follow her into the coop to check out what's going on. They'll hang around near her when they're all hanging out and lounging in the dirt. They seem to have fit into the flock's pecking order. One of the hens, Ochocinco, still throws a peck their way every now and then to keep them in line. They stick together. The incessant peeping continues. They're growing bigger, but there aren't any major appearance changes this week. 

During week 9 I finally saw them dust bathing. It was cute because three of them squished themselves into one of the dust bath ditches in the coop (the hens generally dust bathe in one of a few determined spots in the coop's run). I like to watch them preen. It's so cute because they're so miniature. At week 10 they still have a size disadvantage mostly because of their bantam status. They're getting much bigger though, so space has become an issue in the coop at nighttime. We're passing on the 3 roosters to friends because as urban chicken keepers, we're not supposed to keep them. Next weekend, a few days shy of 3 months old, 2 of them will go off to live in the country with dozens of other chickens. I'm like a scared Mama. I'm worried about how they'll fit in and if the other chickens will be nice to them. I'm sad to see them go. They're my babies. It'll be another few weeks before the last one goes to his new home, so I'm hoping it'll lessen the blow for me.  They're the most beautiful little birds I could've imagined. They're fun to watch, as are our other chickens. They have such huge wings that they can do some pretty good flying. They're can't fly off into the sunset, but they can get some height, especially if they're taking off from our higher roost. 

 The multi-chick dust bath.

Alright, broody Mamas. I'm ready for round 2!