The phone rang at 6:44am this morning and woke me from a sound sleep.
"Tonia?"
"Yes" I mumbled sleepily.
"Your chickens are here, and they seem lively and healthy. When will you be here to pick them up?"
"Ummm, what time do you open?"
"Oh, you don't have to wait until then, just come around back and ring the bell."
"Ok, I'll be there soon as I can."
Thus began my newest foray into completely divorcing myself from the city girl that not too long ago was my identity.
It was Linda from the post office who had called and she was the one who opened the door and let me into the back rooms to pick up my shipment of 25 chirping little chicks. We chatted pleasantly for a few minutes (the last shipment of chickens, all adult birds, had been dead on arrival so she was greatly relieved that ours appeared to be doing so well) and then I walked out the door with a box of baby chickens in my hands.
We've struck up a friendship with a local organic farmer named Paul who has a small flock of chickens (4 adult hens and a rooster) and he was eager to increase their numbers. Deb, who has been advocating for chicken ownership ever since we arrived here in Arkansas, jumped at the opportunity and offered to buy chicks in return for all the fresh eggs that we can eat. And that is how I found myself in the surreal position of driving down the road with my backseat chirping. After picking Deb up at the house we headed over to the farm.
These chicks had been eagerly awaited and Paul had everything ready to make them quickly comfortable. His two young sons (2 and 4) joined in the excitement of the morning.

Deb opened the box for our first good look at the little flock.

These are all female chicks and will be brown egg layers. There are at least five different breeds though we won't be able to identify which ones we've received until they are a little older.

The first task was to dip each little chick's beak in water to encourage them to drink. They are no more than 3 days old and so were still living off all the nutrients of the yolk. Some took a little more encouragement than others but they all got the hang of drinking by the time we were done.

Paul displayed one of the chicks for his son to admire.

A light was set up above their new home in order to provide warmth. It was a bit chilly this morning and so the chicks quickly bunched up under their little fake sun.

Paul spread out a little feed to encourage them to eat.

There was an extra in our shipment, a free rare chick. We don't yet know its gender or its breed but we were all taken with its owl like appearance.

The chicks quickly settled into their new home, enjoying the freedom of more room.

The torn up newspaper will provide an area for them to sleep comfortably, and the water up on a platform will help to keep their new quarters dry.

A container of food was the last addition to the set-up and all the little ones were thrilled with the abundance.

I guarantee there will be lots more photos as we watch these babies grow to maturity. And Deb wanted everyone to know that "The Great Goat Experiment" will be coming soon. Those city days are fading fast.


Comments: 51
Just for future reference though:
http://www.cheesemaking.com/
And of course there will be photos - on that far off, distant day :)
I horseback ride around the same time as a woman who has laying-hens, and I can get eggs from her... it is great to get them fresh, straight from the source!
Have fun with these babies and enjoy the largesse. I see many beautiful omelets in your future.
Omelets, and quiches, and fritatas - oh, the possibilities are endless :)
Goats? Oh lord! You are ambitious!
I started with 7 hens and then after that first spring had 8 hens and 2 roosters and now have 13 hens and 2 roosters. They lay all colors of eggs but the blue is more blue-green and I hope to get just a few truely blue eggs to hatch out next spring.
There is a 25 chicken limit basically here in San Diego and 50 feet from any any neighbors. That keeps those stinky chicken farms from ending up being upwind from you. The place we moved into here in Lakeside (from Boulevard) actually used to sell eggs to town and has an adobe house with an old road that runs alongside it where people would drive by and pick up their eggs. There is an big old barn that used to be the chicken coop.
Last year I had a huge garden with enough extra crops to give them to everyone but because of the move I only have a couple tomato plants, one yellow squash and one cosmos flower plant, but there is lots of room here to grow anything I want to and it is only 2.5 miles from Lakeside and that stream of houses and businesses that is San Diego.
Regarding Goats - People at the Boulevard house there before me had goats and made cheese and all that. Also, there are angora goats I saw at the fair one year whose coats are so soft you can shear them and make sweaters and get milk from them too and they are adorable.
I am always saying this - but Alvin Toffler back in the 70/80s wrote a bunch of books but I think it was The Third Wave that stated that in the future we would have to have a job with health benefits, another job at home like one on-line and have a garden and chickens and learn to fix our own cars (so old ones before all the electronics are better for that) and basically do as much ourselves as we could in order to survive the economic/corporate/social situation we would and now are finding ourselves in.
And, I personnally just love my chickens and garden and it is fun to learn to make mayonaise and basically doing it from scratch. But that is just me.
You must have Aracuna chickens. I enjoyed their colored eggs too when I had some years ago. This is really a perfect situation for us. We can go over and enjoy the chickens, and this family who needed more to meet their egg needs, now will have enough for the two families, as well as to sell some.
Thanks so much for sharing with my group.
Good luck with your chicken flock!
Next stop: Ducklings.
On a different topic: Where are the photos from Bowne Park?
How fun.
I have a book called "The Egg and I " by Betty MacDonald written in 1945. I love this book. Its about a young woman who moved with her husband to the canadian rockies to establish a chicken farm. It is really wonderful reading. Maybe you can find this book in a second-hand store or on amazon. I truly recommend it.
I dont know how people eat those things..
We keep a few lawn chairs around so when "cidiots" come around the chickens can watch them.
I dont know why more people dont keep chickens!!
It is interesting for me to remember my grandpa who raised chickens, doves, goats (occasionally) dogs, and grandkid all on the same property. He displayed a varying rotation of pleasure and displeasure for all of these critters.
He seemed to be closest to his chickens. They would come running up to him. It was for the feed, of course. He would toss it out to them, using a soft, sing-song chant, calling them to him. I would sit with my sisters and cousins on the screened-in porch and we would watch and listen. In the afternoon grandpa would leave a half drunk bottle of Lone Star on the porch while he tended this chore. All of us kids would put a lip-lock on his long neck and it would be empty when he got back.
On Sundays we kids knew that grandpa would have to kill a few chickens. We knew this from long experience. The chickens would come running up to him, actually eat out of his hand. Grandpa would lean down, grab one by the head, and give a quick snap. It didn't hurt, but the chicken was dead.
Grandpa would quickly clean the fresh carcass on the back porch and bring in the meat (you'll notice my change of language) to grandma in the kitchen. She was ready. Everything was ready. The meat was washed a second time. You know how the TV Cooking Channel is always telling us to wash our hands after handling chicken? Forget it! They ALWAYS washed the chicken 2-3 times. You might think of that the next time you bring your chicken home from the market.
Well, anyway, it was always a wonderful meal. And we kids still loved to play with the chickens. And grandpa still loved his chickens. And he never forgot that they were food.