chickens – Page 2 – Almost Farmgirl

No…I’m not going to eat them. (On keeping chickens that aren’t going to end up on your table.)

Published on August 7, 2014February 27, 2016 by almostfarmgirl14 Comments

I didn’t go with Jeremiah to the farm this morning. Partly, that’s because as he readily points out, I don’t do mornings. (That’s not entirely true, I just don’t do mornings as early or as well as he does.) Also, we were expecting Mr. Raccoon to be trapped in the live trap we set, and, while I know exactly what has to be done and why, I didn’t really want to be there to see it.

I suppose I’m something of a “bleeding heart.” The other day, I found three baby mice and their mama in a feed bin…and I carried the bin across the property and out to the woods to let them go. Last fall, when a baby raccoon was living in the horse barn (and regularly messing with Jeremiah’s stuff), I disallowed shooting it. It was, after all, only a baby. (Now I’m vaguely concerned that my kindness directly translated to the later killing of my chickens, but luckily, I can never actually know.)

Recently, a friend was incredulous upon learning that I have no plans to eat my chickens.

“So, you’re not going to raise and slaughter your own meat!?!?”

He seemed almost annoyed by this…

…I’m still not sure why.

Don’t get me wrong, I have IMMENSE respect for ranchers who humanely raise livestock, fighting against the factory farming trend that is almost exclusive these days. Such people should be applauded and supported! However, I am not one of them. (If you’re interested in reading updates from such ranchers, check out a girl and her chickens or Full Circle Farm. I really enjoy reading both of their blogs.)

Why am I not one of them? For one thing, adding meat animals to my current menagerie would take up even more time. Time, for me, is at a premium. Also, they would take up space, also at a premium. The farm is not my job, it’s my home. I really don’t want to change that.

Additionally, if it’s not clear already, I get attached to my animals. I’m not sure why I’d want to take on MORE WORK to raise slaughter animals when I know for a fact that it isn’t something I’d enjoy.

Finally, while we’re by no means vegetarians, we really don’t eat much meat. To accommodate the meat-eating that we do, I have no problem paying a premium for local or independently certified humane meat. I buy my beef from family, and I’m still trying to work through the beef quarter I bought last fall!

All of this said, I’m still not sure why it’s a problem or, even worse, why people are annoyed that my chickens might actually die of old age…

Just to clear things up, I thought I’d write a post about why I have chickens, even though I don’t plan to eat them.

Some of my chickens have names. This one, for example, is Lucy.

I thought about writing this as a list, but as I tried to start, I found that the reasons are fairly holistic.

I began to consider keeping chickens when I realized that we were, for sure, buying Eagle Ridge. Part of the reason I do not eat very much meat, and part of the reason I am so intentional about the meat I do buy, is that I know way, way too much about factory farming. It’s horrifying when you look into where most of our meat comes from. And this knowledge comes with implications; for me, I had to rethink what I eat. (For example, I do not eat pork products. I gave that up when I realized what hog confinements really were. I also don’t eat veal due to the usual conditions they’re raised in.)

And, I realized, laying hens are not immune to the implications of factory farming. Not enough space, unhealthy conditions, and drastically shortened lives are the rule, not the exception.

I knew I didn’t want to raise my own meat, but I knew I could handle raising my own laying hens.

I now know EXACTLY where my eggs come from, and that’s rather lovely.

Unexpected bonuses?

Chickens are freaking hilarious! I love watching their antics, and I have found that I generally enjoy keeping them. (Plus, compared to my other critters, they are remarkably low maintenance in the day-to-day.)

–AND–

They thoroughly enjoy the leftovers that would otherwise go to waste. (Less wasted food! Yeah!)

Can anyone explain why it is people would take issue with all of this?

The great chicken massacre of 2014 and the buttressing of Cluckingham…

Published on August 6, 2014February 27, 2016 by almostfarmgirl14 Comments

Alas, there is sad news to report from the Palace of Cluckingham in the Kingdom of Eagle Ridge. We have known since the loss of our most treasured subject that a foul marauder was afoot in our territory, but we naively believed it to reside solely outside of the fortress walls (barn…). Alas, nigh three days ago, we were proven wrong when two more subjects were found dead, this time within our fortress walls. They had been cruelly snatched from their home, drug out from among their kin, and devoured.

Their temporary home deemed unsafe, we doubled down on our efforts to complete their permanent residence. By the setting of the sun, Cluckingham Palace was deemed secure, though still unfinished. One by one, our remaining subjects were carried across the Aisle of Barn and into their new home. They rejoiced and set about their regular tasks of eating, scratching in the dirt, and making noise. And we, their devoted leaders, slept soundly that night, believing our chickeny subjects to be safe from harm.

We should not have slept so soundly.

The dastardly fiend who had so cruelly murdered her kin struck again, this time killing our second to last speckled sussex. He was more clever in his ill intent that we had believed, and he had pulled our temporary defenses (wire stretched across where the door will go) away from the rest of the Palace.

This time he left tracks and fur. We then knew our enemy.

Sadly, the King of Eagle Ridge (Jeremiah) was away, leaving me, the almostfarmgirl Queen of Cluckingham home alone to discover the aftermath of the slaying and to defend my defenseless subjects.

With no King in sight, I did what any Queen under siege should do. I reinforced the defenses of my subjects, and I called for my Allies to aid me in their protection.

Lady Gabriella was the first to come to my aid. Using zipties, we tightened the temporary wire down, leaving no gaps through which our dastardly predator (a raccoon, in case you were wondering…) could enter to terrorize our subjects.

Then, Sir Hezekiah, the user of power tools, screwed in boards along the bottom, for we could not allow the enemy to dig into the Palace.

Finally, I called upon my Sir Kent (my dad – who by the way grew up on a HUGE working farm…erm…I mean kingdom…) to walk the perimeter of the Palace to look for weaknesses in our defenses.

Securing a window that he identified as a fatal flaw in the safety features of the coop.

Read: Stop taking pictures for your blog and hand me a washer... — Read: Stop taking pictures for your blog and hand me a washer…

We baited a trap for the foul beast who has claimed the lives of four of our dear subjects but have not caught the villain. However, since the buttressing of Cluckingham Palace, our subjects have been safe from harm.

And, I assure you, loyal readers, the days of the dastardly raccoon are numbered.

Cats and Dog. Llamas and Alpacas. Horses and Chickens. (…Oh my???)

Published on July 17, 2014February 27, 2016 by almostfarmgirl6 Comments

Over the past week or two, Jeremiah’s little sister has been busy at the ranch with her camera, and she’s gotten some extremely impressive photos. She gave me permission to share them with you. Enjoy!

Llamas and Gardens and Chickens (Oh My!)

Published on July 5, 2014February 27, 2016 by almostfarmgirl15 Comments

See this face? This cute, adorable little llama?

Don’t let him fool you. This is a guilty face. This is the face of a culprit. (Admittedly, a very cute culprit…)

Gabby and I had just finished up evening chores, and I decided, probably against my own better judgment, to check on my garden. (You see, no one was weeding it while we were gone in Orlando, so, while I’ve made a valiant effort to beat back the weeds from the veggies, there are unplanted sections with weeds that are waist high.) I think I was about halfway out when I realized something was amiss.

To get to my garden, you have to walk through several pastures. (It actually used to be a pasture itself, but has since been converted.) At first, I just thought that llamas were in the pasture next to my garden. Turns out, they were actually making a pasture out of my garden. I tried to run. Several awkward, clomping strides later, I remembered that one does not run in welllies (rubber boots? I started wearing such footwear while working at an internationally staffed sleep-away camp, and everyone used the British term…In America, I think we just call them rubber boots…). So I stopped running and starting power walking (or something), and I briefly thought about stopping to take pictures–because I’m a blogger, I guess–but then I decided my squash and cucumbers and everything else were more important than photographic evidence.

So Gabby and I chased the llamas out of the garden. (The llamas were not happy.) Then I took pictures.

Evidence! (This is a llama footprint and what was a very nice onion.)

They ate several onions. (I can’t imagine why…) Knocked over a tomato cage. Generally ran a muck.

…Actually, they didn’t do too much damage. In fact, if I let them back in, I think they’d mostly eat the weeds…

Once we were done chasing llamas out, we set about to beat back some more weeds and look over the plants.

Everything, including the weeds, seems to be doing quite well.

Nearly every vining plant I have is riddled with blooms. We should be rolling in cucumbers, zucchini, spaghetti squash, watermelon, acorn squash, pumpkin…and the other stuff I can’t really remember. (Don’t blame me! All the rain has washed off most of the garden markers. Either way, lots of food.)

The tomatillos are loaded! I cannot wait!

2014-07-01 20.10.03 — Admittedly, you can’t really tell from this photo, but we have four tomatillo plants, and they will be pretty prolific.

More tomatoes than I can imagine what to do with.

2014-07-01 20.10.12

We found this cuteness in the raspberry thicket. I imagine there may have been an unhappy bird around when we took this photo. Other than the picture, we left it completely undisturbed.

Oh, and my chickens are laying! They’ve been living in a stall since their coop isn’t done.

The coop, in progress. My ridiculously talented carpenter/husband has the redesign in progress. Cluckingham Palace (I WILL have a sign made up) will probably be nicer than our house with shade via a chickeny pergola, insulated walls, lighting inside and out, and a washable surface in and out.

Can anyone tell me what kind of chickens I have? I’m completely clueless.

I know, not great photos. You will see more once they move into the palace, but that won’t be for a week or so.

This one is my favorite... — This one is my favorite…

Anyone know what this is? She (possibly he?) is my favorite. Hatched this Spring, I cannot tell if it’s a roo or a hen. (Please be a hen. Please be a hen. Please be a hen…)

Ranch life…and chickens in my future!

Published on April 18, 2014April 22, 2022 by almostfarmgirl5 Comments

I’m a little afraid to say it aloud, but I think, maybe, Spring is actually here to stay this time.

Not two days after my “Spring!” post, Central Illinois fell back into another round of winter with temps in the 20s and near an inch of snow. I got cranky. While I’m not usually a winter hater, I am fully sick of the cold this year. When the snow came back–I’m fairly convinced in was actually the same snow as before that just refused to die–I wanted to crawl under my heated blanket and wait there for summer.

But the sun triumphed! It’s sunny and beautiful today. Temps should reach mid-sixties. The ten day forecast is showing 60s and 70s for the foreseeable future. *Giant sigh of relief*

Things have been progressing, albeit slowly, at the farm. After my riding drama last week ( with Cinco ) we decided that we would have to put in an outdoor arena. L picked a spot for us, and Jeremiah has been busy clearing trees and brush from the area since. I stopped in and checked on him earlier, and I found him covered in brush and sweat, with a four foot pile of woodchips and a plethora of firewood to show for his effort. Full construction on the arena will have to wait until we complete financing for the rest of the property, but we do plan to have it in this summer.

With three weeks left in the semester, I’m feeling increasingly anxious to finish grading and teaching and move into ranch life. Jeremiah has promised to till up my garden patch and spread compost this week. I probably won’t start really planting until after finals, but it will be good to let it sit a bit.

Looks like we will order our chicks in about two weeks. I’ve researched chicken breeds for the last few months, and, just when I thought I’d settled on something, I found out that mypetchicken.com offers sexed rare breed assortments. Sold. Since we don’t have to have everyday layers, and we don’t intend to show chickens ever (llama shows…horse shows, maybe…), I think the surprise mix could be a lot of fun. I can’t wait for my little chickens. And it will be so exciting to get a mix. I think Katie–my cousin who will be moving into the guest house (if you don’t regularly follow this blog)–and I will order a dozen rare breed assortment chicks.

To my readers who have chickens, what is your best advice for starting chicks? What do you wish you had known?

What a difference 6 weeks can make…

Published on April 6, 2014February 27, 2016 by almostfarmgirl7 Comments

If I’m being completely honest, I have no idea when we will actually manage to move out to the farm 100%. I do know that Jeremiah said “two weeks” about a week ago, but then he spent nearly a week at his conference, and four days out of the next seven are chock full of shoeing. I also know that there is still no water to the guest house, and the bathroom isn’t finished even if there were. I’m beginning to have suspicions that we will finish things up just in time for Katie to move in and for us to start this all over again with the big house. But who knows for sure. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the four years that Jeremiah and I have been together? Don’t bet against him. Not ever. Somehow he almost always manages to accomplish more in a day than most can do in seven. He may surprise me yet.

Jeremiah and Minnett. Jeremiah and I had only just started dating; this is just after I explained that if he wanted me to pick between him and the llama, I was going to choose the llama. — Jeremiah and Minnett at the Ranch. Jeremiah and I had only just started dating; this is just after I explained that if he wanted me to pick between him and the llama, I was going to choose the llama.

In the meantime, I’ve been alternately stressed about moving and excited about this new chapter for us. (By the way, I packed one box while my guy was gone. One. Box.) I specifically remember a day when I was younger (probably 15), wandering up the drive to the llama barn and thinking that I would really like to own a place just like that one day. Of course, I mostly dismissed the idea, unable to come up with a future where I’d be able to afford such an amazing place anytime before my retirement. Now that’s it’s happening, I keep waiting for someone to pinch me awake.

Even so, if you’re no familiar with running a ranch or renovating a house (in our case two), you should know this: the work is infinite. You can always find something that needs to be done or purchased, and the size of the “To-Do” list is longer than the “Done” list, no matter how many things you check off. And, of course, this is on top of everything that needs to be done everyday. (Clean water buckets, feed animals, clean stalls, sweep barn…sleep, eat, work, etc)

And, on top of both of these lists, you can add mine. I have plans to add chickens to the menagerie (laying hens…in my world, broilers would invariably become useless pets…at least the laying variety will be useful pets). I plan to have a big, giant vegetable garden. I plan to add a strawberry patch. (Side Note: There is LITERALLY nothing on the planet that tastes as good as a homegrown strawberry. If you don’t have the privilege of growing some yourself, do yourself a favor and buy some from a local farmers’ market. Trust me. Your taste buds will thank you.) I have been getting super excited about composting. I have no idea why.

I keep wondering what it would look like to flash forward about 6 weeks into the future. By then, we should be living on the ranch. I will be done teaching. (Huzzah!) The chicks I plan to order at the end of this month should be in, still little fluffs living in the garage. The garden will be tilled, possibly sown. And my sweet, dear husband should be losing his mind over a whole new house full of renovations to start.

What a difference six weeks can make…