The Chicken Project

The NPR correspondents start laying!

2011-10-03T16:27:00.000-07:00

Got our first eggs from Nina Totenberg, Sylvia Pogiolli and Soraya Sarhaddi Nelson today!

The Polish Join the Flock

2011-09-24T06:56:00.000-07:00

Schwinn and Smirnoff were in the holding zone for a week or so. At night, I'd find them roosting on the fencing. There was some hen pecking once they joined the flock, particularly from Blanche. But now, the flock seems to have achieved harmony. Even Jim noticed that they seem like a happy flock.

Which Chicken Are You?

2011-09-18T07:20:00.000-07:00

If you are the kind of Mom who can make a kid stop what they're doing with just a look, you are Hedwig.

Hedwig is the leader of the flock. She leads with a quiet authority with Blanche and Squirt as her wingmen. (Winghen?)

Don't mess with Hedwig and she won't mess with you.

And again, I am using the Hipstamatic app to take these cool photos. I may have to name a hen after the Hipstamatic.

Smirnoff in Full Glory

2011-09-18T07:14:00.001-07:00

I am addicted to the Hipstamatic app on my iPod Touch. It takes cool, square, retro photos. I took this one of Smirnoff, saturated the color and added a matte to it in iPhoto. I think it's as cool as the chicken herself.

Making a Choice

2011-09-13T13:53:00.000-07:00

In The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, dogs are main characters in the plot of the book, particularly one named Almondine. Almondine may be a work of fiction, but one that is very dear to my heart, as is the entire story.

In the book, the author makes it clear that the dogs are able to make a choice at pivotal points in the book.

That's how I feel about introducing new chickens. When they feel ready to join the flock, I want them to be able to do so.

So today, Smirnoff decided she was ready. But she got hen pecked, literally. To the point that there was blood all over her tail area. So, I washed her up and put antibiotic lotion all over her and she is going to have to heal up in the holding area till I let her make a choice again. I have no choice. Once there's blood, the flock keeps pecking and as a middle child, I cannot stand for that injustice.

Introducing the Polish

2011-09-10T08:08:00.000-07:00

We're thinking of naming the Polish hens Schwinn and Smirnoff, since we biked them home from the Fair in a vodka box.

They are gentle hens who are more like cats than chickens. We are chicken sitting for the neighbors and brought the Polish down with us. Walked all around the neighborhood with them and they just took it all in stride.

During the day, they're in the holding area. At night, after dark, I put them on a roost inside the coop.

The first morning, I found them in the exact same position as I left them, except that Hedwig was standing above them giving them a stern look.

The second morning, they were in the corner and Hedwig was standing above them giving them a stern look. Sometimes, Squirt and Blanche join in.

My Pet Chicken describes the Polish as gentle and friendly, which we've found to be true. But they can also be hen-pecked, so back out to the holding area they go. This will be a long introduction, I think.

Biking Home with Some Polish

2011-09-08T07:57:00.000-07:00

(Yes, another State Fair post.)While officiating the Rooster Crowing contest, I spoke with Haaken, the owner of the winning frizzle bantam. Knowing that Huff and Fetuccini Alfredo were probably roosters, I wanted to get a few more "Poof Heads" into the flock before winter. He agreed to sell me two Buff and Golden-Laced Polish hens.

I had biked over and had brought a bungee cord. Haaken said he had a box. In fact, at the Fair, there were a ton of boxes and most of then were booze related. The Fair must be a 12-day party for some of these people!

I was going to surprise Jim but he decided at the last minute to come along. So, I had to come clean and tell Jim what I was up to, especially because he had the cash. As usual, Jim's reaction was 'no, no, no' but he went along with it once he saw the hens. At 3 pm, when the animal barns close, we packed the hens into the Smirnov box and headed out. No one asked, checked or questioned. We could have taken 10 hens, it was such chaos. Not that I am into stealing, especially not hens.

The hens got to see a little bit of the Fair and enjoy a strawberry from the Strawberries and Cream stand.

They are really cool hens.

Looking back at pictures of State Fair chickens from previous years, Polish are my most-photographed chicken. So I feel no buyer's remorse.

Still More on the Topic of the State Fair

2011-09-07T14:18:00.000-07:00

The end of the Fair means one thing: Time for the rooster crowing contest. 11 am sharp the last few days of the Fair. We got to be Judges at the last day's competition, and there was some big money involved. The Judge must count how many times your assigned rooster crows in a 30 minute time period. The scores are cumulative. My rooster had no name, but was a Sumatra. He crowed 36 times. He came in third.

When we sat down to preside the contest, the woman running the show made sure to let us know that we had selected the Large Breed roosters. I told her we were up to the task.

Roosters in our Midst

2011-09-07T14:08:00.000-07:00

The Fair also helped us confirm a suspicion: The Crested Top Hat and one of the Silkies are roosters. All three of us humans came to the same conclusion once we were able to compare them side by side in the Poultry Barn. Very disappointing, as I like both of them and will not be able to keep them.

So long, Huff and Puff and Fettucini Alfredo.

State Fair, Two Days in a Row

2011-09-07T13:58:00.000-07:00

The weather was so great, we ended up going to the Fair Sunday and Monday. Of course, we checked out the Poultry Barn, where I finally figured out what Blanche is. She is a Red Pyle Modern Game Hen. All along, I thought she was a seagull.

The fair hen:

Blanche:

More Geekiness to Come

2011-09-07T11:05:00.000-07:00

This weekend, Saturday, September 10, is the Twin Cities Parade of Coops Tour. I'd like to be on it but cannot for two reasons: 1.) Jim has to work that day and 2.) I never did the spring clean up this spring. It was raining all the time, so I shifted it to fall.

When I mentioned that Marcy and I went on the Coop Tour instead of going to see Jim's Parade Home to some friends (Sam and Dean) who live in the country, they laughed a little and then the conversation turned to other things. About 20 minutes later, Dean says, "What a minute. So you guys actually have an event to go see coops?" It was only then I realized that it might be considered weird by some.

The Twin Cities Chickens google group puts it together and there will be over 40 coops to tour this Saturday. No ticket required!

http://sites.google.com/site/twincitiescooptour/

Geeking Out at the State Fair

2011-09-01T06:49:00.000-07:00

Egg / Plant in St. Paul was looking for volunteers to man a Backyard Chickens booth in the EcoExperience building at the State Fair. I signed up for a 9 to noon shift, biked over this Monday and had so much fun! Peoples' questions reminded me of mine when I first started: Do you need a rooster? (No.) Should the coop be heater? (Yes, unless you have winter hardy or a lot of them.) Their general response fell into three categories:

"Chickens.""Chickens?""Chickens!"

The Poultry Barn was closed the day I was there, so the two chickens there were really the only ambassadors their species had that day. Audrey at Egg / Plant said we volunteers could bring our own chickens, too. Once I figure out how to transport them there via bike, I'll take a few of my favorites over.

Not So Savvy Blogger

2011-09-01T06:36:00.000-07:00

Blogs have come a long way since I started this one. As a writer, I look at some of these Moms who blog, save-you-money blogs and other monetized blogs and wonder how they do it. For me, I just wanted to journal the adventure of chicken keeping. But to be forced to write about it every day? Makes my head hurt. So, I'm keeping it fun and posting when I have something to say. It's summer and the little chickens are growing and a few of the hens are laying. It's easy right now. I will get some current photos of some of the pullets. My goal was to get some rare breeds and I have a really good mix right now. A motley crew.

Where some hens went

2011-08-02T17:50:00.001-07:00

I donated five of my hens to a local CSA farm a few months ago. They were looking for egg layers and these were all laying but definitely in their later years of doing so. The CSA farm wasn't planning to overwinter them, so I thought this was a win-win for all involved, especially since I went a little chick happy this spring.

So imagine my surprise when I saw a post on the google group called Twin Cities Chickens asking what breed these chickens were and I recognized three of them!

So Stretchy is now Laura, The Brown One is now Almond and Lulu is now Sophie. They went to a family new to keeping chickens and I can't think of a better way to start out than with these hens. They've been around the block and are now settled into a nice little flock.

It seems even Stretchy's dark side has gone away. Lulu is reported to be the sweetest one.

Huff and Puff

2011-07-23T10:55:00.000-07:00

My husband has always wanted what he calls "Poof Heads" but what are really Crested Top Hats or Polish chickens. I finally got two chicks from Houle's Farm Store in Stillwater and surprised him for his birthday. So imagine our surprise when a crow came along and took Puff. I had no idea that a crow would/could do that. My daughter was upset because she saw it happen. Poor Puff was only 5 or 6 weeks old. At first, Huff was hiding and afraid. She would peek around the corner with - I swear - a confused and concerned expression. Who wouldn't? But she soon started to hang with Peach Freeze and Coconut.

So between Coco, Legs and Puff, we are down three chickens this spring.

RIP Legs

2011-07-21T17:55:00.000-07:00

Legs, our little Modern Game Hen bantam, died today. I found her in the run, eyes closed, with what seemed like a broken neck. She was one from our first year and came with Blanche. We used to bring her inside on really cold days, where she would spend the day in an aquarium, perfectly happy as long as we were near. She'd do a special little chirp when we'd come by. She was easy to catch if we let them out to freerange and was the one the neighbor kids liked to hold because she was small and didn't fly away.

Blanche and I are going to miss that wandering little hen. She had a free pass to stay as long as she wanted and she ended up not staying very long.

The NPR correspondents move outside

2011-05-15T20:24:00.001-07:00

Today, Nina, Sylvia and Soraya moved outside. It is a little cold tonight but I had to move Gloria, Buckleberry, Welsummer and Betty White out to the stage two home in the garage. They were really loud this morning and I was afraid they'd wake up my daughter. Stage one housing clearly got crowded fast.

Still in stage one: Stevie Nicks, Emmy Lou Harris, Fettucini Alfredo and Dandelion. I first moved Emmy Lou out and Stevie Nicks got really upset, peeping more loudly than the big crowd had when I was afraid they'd wake up my daughter. Chick management. Not easy!

Gloria

2011-05-15T08:17:00.000-07:00

A Wyandotte.

Spring chickens, 2011

2011-05-15T08:14:00.000-07:00

Includes Betty White (pictured), Stevie Nicks and Emmy Lou Harris, Fettucini Alfredo and Dandelion, Buckleberry and Welsummer and Gloria.

Betty White

2011-05-15T08:12:00.001-07:00

A Light Brahma, another new breed for us. She's a busybody but she is beautiful.

Stevie Nicks

2011-05-15T08:10:00.000-07:00

A beautiful Salmon Favorelle.

Buckleberry and Welsummer

2011-05-15T08:08:00.001-07:00

Two Welsummers, also a new breed for us. The hatchery had shipped an extra 50 hens to Houle's Farm store, so I took one more.

Emmy Lou Harris

2011-05-15T08:06:00.000-07:00

A sweet partridge rock.

Fettucini Alfredo

2011-05-15T08:05:00.001-07:00

Our other silkie. She may turn out to be a rooster.

Dandelion

2011-05-15T08:04:00.001-07:00

Our first silkie chick. She is so very sweet.

My favorite Coco dies

2011-04-19T14:34:00.000-07:00

I found Coco dead today in the coop. She was one of our original chickens, adopted from Lori, and by far, our friendliest. I thought about getting her a job as a greeter at Wal-Mart, she was that outgoing. I will miss her.

In the spotlight

2011-04-14T18:27:00.000-07:00

Nina Totenberg takes center stage.

Gluten Free

2011-04-14T18:16:00.000-07:00

We found out that we're going gluten free. My daughter has celiac and I got tested today. Should know more next week.

So, any open boxes of cereal containing gluten (most) were brought out to the chickens.

They are snubbing it big time. Fiber One and Shredded Wheat are just not their thing, I guess. They're naturally gluten free.

The squirrels seem to be, too. This photo was taken today; the cereal was brought out two days ago.

The chicks are here, reporting live from Roseville, MN

2011-03-31T19:33:00.001-07:00

This just in: The chicks have arrived in Roseville, MN, greeted by much fanfare. They are settling in nicely.

Left to right: Nina Totenberg, Sylvia Pogiolli and Soraya Sarhaddi Nelson.

Three chicks, arriving Thursday

2011-03-27T07:00:00.000-07:00

Three chicks will be arriving Thursday at Egg Plant. One will be a buff orpington, one silver laced wyandotte and one araucana. I'm thinking of naming this batch after NPR correspondents -- Nina Totenberg, Sylvia Pogiolli and Soraya Sarhaddi Nelson. But of course, I have to meet them in person to see if the names fit.

I've put together flash cards for my husband so that he knows which chicken is which. He never refers to them. If I give them these full names, he might just check out all together.

What do the neighbors think?

2011-02-01T06:03:00.000-08:00

Jim noticed that whenever he tells people that we have a small flock of chickens in the city, the first question they ask is: "What do your neighbors think?"

We are lucky that in Roseville we do not need a permit. The city did, however, suggest we let our neighbors know. When I told our neighbor to the west, she said, "If you're getting chickens, I'm going to get a goat!"

And on the east side, our neighbors were kind enough to be our guest bloggers, even doing research:

What the Cluck?

While that’s not the response from everyone who discovers my neighbors raise chickens – a number of folks are surprised to learn we live next door to chickens – and like it!

Most of those surprised by the news have read about urban farmers in local newspapers. They assume incorrectly that urban chicken farmers are confined to “The City” where all those crazy urban trends flourish. These folks are surprised to learn you can raise chickens in Roseville.

I enjoy having chickens next door for a number of reasons. You usually don’t hear them as the noise of everyday life tends to overpower their quite clucking, but it’s always a treat to step out on the deck in the early morning with the dog and hear the chickens clucking away. It’s a quiet sort of noise, peaceful like a babbling brook.

Chickens are also fun to watch – kind of like a spectator sport. When they are let out of the pen to run around the yard they eat bugs, and pick around in the dirt taking dust baths. They seldom stray far, and are (usually) rounded-up easily.

Of course, the chickens are not always quiet. They squawk some, usually when a possible intruder is nearby. Sometimes squirrels set them off, other times it’s a raptor sitting in a nearby tree. (Watching penned-in chickens must drive raptors crazy – so close, but so far.) But when they squawk, it’s not nearly as loud as barking dogs, lawn mowers, leaf blowers, or other hazards of suburban living.

And of course – there are the eggs. These eggs come from truly free range chickens. On occasion, I’ve cooked with eggs still warm from the hen. We once cracked two eggs in a bowl – one from the co-op (no slouch for producing good eggs) and one from McNeal chickens. The yolk of the McNeal egg was a much deeper yellow – almost orange – and huge. I’m told that’s because of the high protein content. These chickens really like their bugs.

We also enjoy showing off the chickens to visiting friends and relatives. They are a big hit with the under age 5 crowd.

Living next to chickens is a win-win situation as far as I’m concerned.

I’ll finish with this fun historical fact: According to the 1931 Farm Holdings map of Roseville our homes are located on the site of an old 30 acre poultry (turkey) farm – plot 206. It’s destiny that the McNeals raise chickens!

Squirt lays her first egg!

2010-12-16T17:34:00.000-08:00

And it's green!

Feeling Bad for Roosters

2010-12-15T06:49:00.000-08:00

I live in the city and one of the cardinal rules for city flocks is: No roosters. Nothing is going to get complaints faster and make people cranky quicker than a rooster crowing early morning. Acutally, I don't even think I could tolerate it myself.

I was just on craigslist, thinking I might surprise my husband with a Polish or a Silkie. About half the posts said "Free Chickens". Of course, if it's free, I am going to check it out. Invariably, they were free roosters.

When you order all females chicks from a hatchery, they throw in some males "for warmth". And if you're like me, you don't know you have a rooster till you hear it. Then what? Our local chicken rescue is overrun with them.

I guess there just aren't a lot of options for roosters that don't involve a stock pot.

The O' Possums are back

2010-11-17T12:39:00.000-08:00

Last night, I saw an armadillo-shaped silhouette moving across the back yard. It was trying to run fast and looked like a cartoon. Sure enough, we went out and found this guy. I like the Eddie Haskell look he's giving us, like: Who, me?

We've called Animal Control because we think he's looking for a chicken dinner.

Rethinking

2010-10-05T17:30:00.000-07:00

Well, turns out, giving away egg layers is a bad idea. Go figure, huh? But I really didn't enjoy taking care of the three I gave away, and I thought I was doing Red a favor by finding her a new flock. However, I now have a flock of 13 and am getting only one egg a day!

So, now to configure a new set of rules on flock management. Maybe I can keep only two nonlayers, and they have to be my favorites? Or I go above the husband-recommended number of 12 to 14 hens?

Not sure, but I am going to have to triangulate some sort of new plan.

Red, Jackie Chan, Wink and Madeline Albright

2010-09-02T20:27:00.000-07:00

Woefully misnamed, Madeline Albright turns out to be a rooster. So do Wink and Jackie Chan. They are joining Melissa's flock, recently reduced significantly by a fox or a coyote. So Squirt is now officially the youngest, and only, chick in the flock. She will do OK, but I feel like I did when I sent my daughter off to kindergarten. ("Bye! Things will be OK! Have fun! You'll do fine!")

We sent Red to Melissa's flock as well. She had been relentlessly mean to Blanche - actually pinning her down to pick on her. I've had to squirt her with a garden hose to get her to stop. As Marcy said, "Ever since Peanut died, Red has been a jerk." I had a stronger four-letter word for her, so Marcy said it well, in a G-rated way. I hope she will be happier in a new flock. She's beautiful and I hope she finds a new Peanut.

Twelve to fourteen is the chicken-to-ground ratio my husband says works best for our run. We are now at 13 and it feels right.

Legs Goes Broody for an Hour or So

2010-09-02T20:24:00.000-07:00

Found Legs sitting on eggs that were bigger than her.

Another Visitor

2010-09-02T20:18:00.000-07:00

This is our 4th or 5th hawk to swing by for a chicken dinner. Since the run is covered, they quickly figure out that there is no drive through (dive through?) and fly off.

Blanche and I Come to an Understanding

2010-09-02T20:13:00.000-07:00

Growing up in a big family, I understand the need for alone time. So when I see that being a flock member is too much for her, I let Blanche out the coop door. At the end of the day, I open the door and she walks back in.

She mostly hangs out in the tree above the run, or outside the fence that is the run. But still. She's alone. Kind of. I get it. It's like being alone in your room in a big house full of noisy people. Crank the Journey and tune out for a while.

Tucking in the chicks

2010-07-06T08:51:00.000-07:00

This is how I protect the chicks at night.

Holding zone

2010-07-06T08:47:00.000-07:00

Photo of the holding zone, where I introduce chicks to the established flock slowly. They get used to seeing one another and sharing food and water.

The four chicks move outside

2010-07-06T07:53:00.000-07:00

This batch of chicks is killing me they are so cute. Wink, Squirt, Jackie Chan and Madeline Albright are one adorable little flock. I won't allow my hens to harm them again, that's for sure.

I have developed a new way to introduce chicks to an established flock. First, I set up a holding zone, which is a puppy fence set up next to the run. This allows the hens and chicks to share food and water and to get used to one another's presence. They see each other every day and the sharing of food happens with a safety zone for the chicks. I will keep them in this holding zone for two or three weeks. The warm weather meant I could move them out earlier than the previous three.

At night, I put them in a plastic shoe box, the kind from Target, which is lined with some aspen bedding. Then I slide them into one of the nesting box slots. This way, they are safe at night and cannot get pecked at by the hens. They have plenty of room to move around, and could get out if they need to or want to.

At night, I have to get out there to get them into their slot right at sundown or they start to panic. Last night, I got out a little late and they were all lined up, looking into the coop and peeping wildly.

Yesterday morning, I went out to put them back into the holding zone and they were already there! They had found their own way in, probably squeezing through the run so they could get into their own area. The cute thing was that it was wide open; I hadn't shut it the whole way the night before. They just knew that was their place, I guess.

A Saturday to detox

2010-06-14T18:52:00.000-07:00

The day after Stretchie attacked the chicks, it rained all day. I sat by the window, with the chicks in the aquarium, and taught myself to knit. I was leaving an intense writing gig and the day felt like a wrap down of sorts.

We cleaned all the blood and tissue off the chicks under water then slathered them with neosporin - so much neosporin that Wink didn't have any down on her neck at all. Jim came in and in a really alarmed way asked, "Why doesn't that chicken have a neck?" I told him she has a head and there's got to be a neck there somewhere.

But he was right. The neck bone was thinner than a pencil. Thinner than an old thermometer. More like a few threads. It just showed how these little things are 90% fluff. No wonder you have to keep them at 95 degrees that first week.

The chicks nodded off most of the day. Squirt would lean against Wink and Wink would lean against the aquarium wall or a paper towel I wadded up as a kind of pillow. They did not eat or drink. That's normal for day two but I was a little concerned.

Catching up on two or three weeks

2010-06-14T18:16:00.000-07:00

A lot has happened in the flock this June. Blanche has finally - finally! - found a direction in life and decided to sit on some hatching eggs. She was so excited about it she stole some of the nonfertile eggs and sat on those, too. She took this job very seriously, bristling up like a linebacker when I'd enter the coop.

In the end, she hatched out 4 of the 7 eggs. She was very protective and patient.

Then Stretchie came along. She apparently got jealous and decided to try to kill the chicks. Luckily, my daughter had been checking on the hatching on an hourly basis. She found two of the four chicks with their eyes pecked at and bleeding. They were in really bad shape, especially being hours old.

I put Stetchie in solitary confinement, outside of the run. I've never been so mad at an animal in all my life. She has a long neck that I really thought about wringing.

It's been about 8 days since the attempted chickicide, and I am happy to report, the chicks are alive and well. Squirt, the one who had both eyes attacked, is healing up nicely. Wink is healing up even better. They were pretty jumpy those first few days and I felt they could use a few more chicks to hang out with. I added a few more from Mary's hatch: Penguin, whom I had renamed Jackie Chan, and a pretty yellow one I decided to name Madeline Albright.

Which Chicken Are You?

2010-05-13T18:04:00.000-07:00

If you're sweet, unaware and a wanderer, you are Legs. Not really part of the flock, not really not part of the flock. Kind of whatever. She's a little spacey but always approachable. Connects once in a while. Once laid an egg.

Which Chicken Are You?

2010-05-13T16:33:00.000-07:00

Stretchie - and I wish I could get a shot of her long neck when she telescopes it up - is an ugly duckling that grew into a swan. When we first adopted her, she had no feathers on her neck, and was picked on by the others. She would peck at me, peck at you, peck at anyone because she was just tired of being pecked on. She was Bitter Chicken.

I decided to mix up a tea tree oil blend. I figured it smells bad, and might stop the others from pecking at her. And it has healing properties, so it might get those feathers growing again.

It worked!

Now, look at her. Mother to be and the first to commit to laying on those eggs. She is patient with the chicks when they hatch, and readily shares her mom duties with Lulu.

However, she still has a dark side.

Time for: Which Chicken Are You?

2010-05-13T16:28:00.000-07:00

Each of my hens has a personality. Coco has the most. There isn't a single time I've gone out to the coop that she hasn't been the first to come over and say hello. I can tell her cluck and trill apart from all others. She's always got some news to tell or a greeting to give. Outgoing, friendly, even likes being petted.

The value of older hens

2010-05-13T16:22:00.000-07:00

Coco, Stretchie and Lulu are the oldest hens I have. Stretchie and Lulu took on the task of hatching the eggs we sprung on them. I've learned since that putting in a few decoy eggs is a good way to get the hens broody. Then switch the decoys out for real eggs.

I like having a mixed crowd. I know they aren't egg layers, but they're darn good mothers, and I think the first to co-parent as well.

2010-05-11T07:42:00.000-07:00

2010-05-11T07:41:00.000-07:00

Our chicks first day outside

2010-05-11T07:37:00.000-07:00

We spent a great Mother's day at a llama and sheep festival. Then we came home and put Luigi, Moon and Angel outside for the first time. They didn't know what to make of it. Moon and Angel sat on my lap a good deal of the time. And Luigi -- who we maybe should not have named Luigi -- took on Georgia. So, we now suspect Luigi may be our next rooster.

Chickens Food!

2010-05-11T06:47:00.000-07:00

In sorting through old papers, I found this handy dandy chart that Marcy created. She was 11 at the time. I guess DQs and hot dogs are on the menu. Who knew?

Chicks move

2010-05-11T06:46:00.001-07:00

I had to work, so I asked Mary to check on the chicks. On Friday, when they were, what, 48 hours old?, she found them wandering around the run! That means they had to jump down from the nesting box, down the step out of the coop and around the run. Mary scooped them up and brought them to her house. Stretchie and Lulu did all they could to keep it from happening, but in the end, Mary won.

Chicks born today!

2010-04-28T10:57:00.001-07:00

I guess fate would have it that I am home with a sinus infection. I went out to check on Lulu and Stretchie, and look what I found!

The yellow one was out first, trying to wander away from Lulu who kept nudging her back. Independent at a few hours old, so I named her Liberty.

Hatching eggs

2010-04-12T15:22:00.000-07:00

Mary brought over some beautiful hatching eggs. She just picked up some Sussex chickens, and they are really a nice looking chicken. If these hatch, they would be a mix.

We marked them all with Xs, and put them in the nesting box. There was almost immediate interest, with CoCo the first one to sit on them.

Next, we saw the Brown One sitting on them.

Then Lulu.

Now Stretchie.

And, for some reason, we've gone from 12 hatching eggs to only 10 hatching eggs, even though Marcy biked all over the neighborhood trumpeting the news. Whoever took the eggs with the X didn't know us or the flock. Maybe the O'Possum family that moved in next door?

My buddy Blanche

2010-04-12T15:16:00.000-07:00

I had a realization on the way home from work today. I just could not stay at my desk the full 8 hours today. I was driving home a whopping 15 minutes early, feeling the freedom, when I realized that I am Blanche.

Why else would I put up with her going on walkabout, sitting sullen alone in the corner and flying up in people's faces? Not that I am a loner, or mean like her. But I understand that need to do what you want to do once in a while, with no one telling you to do it. Put me on a budget, I'll go shopping. Put me on a diet, I'll eat chocolate. Tell me I must sit 40 hours a week in a cube, I'll leave early even if it is only a few minutes and of course I would deduct it from my timesheet. (I was raised Catholic; it's not in me to lie.)

Who can blame a person for wanting a little freedom in life? Who can blame Blanche?

Don't fence me in must be Blanche's motto, even if it means simply spending the day on the other side of the fence or in the pine tree above it.

2010-04-05T07:46:00.000-07:00

2010-04-05T07:44:00.002-07:00

2010-04-05T07:44:00.001-07:00

2010-04-05T07:43:00.000-07:00

Three new chicks the day before Easter

2010-04-05T07:28:00.001-07:00

We attempted a photo shoot with these three new little ones, and as you can see, it went real well. They stayed in position, didn't make the shot blurry, very well behaved.

Martha Stewart had an entire show devoted to chickens on Friday, and chick fever struck again. I told my husband we would just get three -- each of us could pick one out. No, no, no, he said but around two in the afternoon, off we went to the farm store.

When we got there, the farm store guy asked if we had called ahead. We had, so I said yes. For some reason, there was a hold slip for three chicks with the name Sarah on it. Sure, that's me, I said. I don't remember holding any, but there must be enough chicks in the world. I didn't know there would be a gatekeeper process.

So once that was figured out, the farm store guys says, "You want yellow or black?"

I hadn't expected this question.

"Could I just see them?"

He hemmed and hawed as if I was asking for jewelry from the back safe or something.

Finally, I said, "We're here to pick three out for pets." I think they're so used to chicks being a product, not a pet, that he just was going to throw some in a box.

He nodded to three being overly petted by three giddy kids. No, I want to see others, I said.

Finally, he brought out six, and of those six, we picked Angel, Luigi and Moon. They're healthy and supposedly had been sexed by the hatchery as being hens. Marcy's is yellow, Jim's is black, and mine is the blackish-greyish one.

The farm store guy, for working at a farm store, didn't know anything about what breed they are. Just that they are yellow or black, which any 6-year-old could discern.

So it will be another adventure, seeing what these little guys become.

2010-04-05T07:27:00.000-07:00

Three new chicks

2010-04-05T07:25:00.000-07:00

Just some photos of happy chickens

2010-03-21T16:34:00.001-07:00

No Camp Cous Cous

2010-03-21T16:29:00.000-07:00

Well, spring is here and Hedwig is laying her beautiful green/blue eggs again and Stretchie is laying her little whities. Legs laid her biannual egg. Life is good. Freeranging is good. Not having to deal with freezing water is good.

I forgot, my chickens are pets that happen to lay eggs, not egg layers who happen to live near my house. That's how it felt all winter, but now I am able to enjoy them again.

Worth it

2010-03-17T18:40:00.000-07:00

The chickens were out freeranging a couple of times this week, and it all seems worth it all over again.

For St. Patrick's Day, the O'Possum family is apparently drinking a few green beers at Half Time Wreck, as we haven't seen them.

At work today, I was the only one wearing green. My coworkers said black is the new green.

Life is better for the chickens and for all surrounding families.

Chicken camp

2010-03-08T18:08:00.000-08:00

My friend Mary is married to a guy from Morocco. He and his brothers are very used to "dispatching" chickens and that is what happened to her little flock of Aracana - they are in freezers around the Twin Cities. Mary is way smarter than me, obviously, because she hasn't had the winter problems I have had.

My chickens can be dispatched using this method as well, one that I've devised a code name for: Camp Couscous. I am considering sending them to camp next fall, but it goes against all the vows I made when I started this project: that all my chickens can live out their full lives in our backyard, egg layer or not.

So, I've got a dilemma. I am hoping spring and summer can renew my interest in the flock, and that seeing them back out in the garden will remind me why I started this project in the first place. OK, OK, I'll up my Vitamin D levels, too.

Uninvited guests

2010-03-08T18:03:00.000-08:00

It appears that a new family has moved into the neighborhood. Don't know if they are Irish, but their name is opossum. We have spotted them leaving the coop itself, probably after eggs. Of course, the chickens have much to say about it - it's our neighbor who told us the chickens were worked up about something. While she was delivering eggs to Mr. Kolden, Marcy and Mr. Kolden discovered some scratch marks on one of the eggs.

I love animals but possums are ugly - there I said it. The one I saw slowly ambled its way across the yard in broad daylight, brazenly showing off its ability to stay awake during the daytime.

Since the coop door is frozen open and has been pushed off its hinges, there isn't much we can do about it. I know if Big Mama were here, she would not stand for it.

The chickens know

2010-03-08T17:53:00.000-08:00

Last night, in light of having three dogs, too many vet bills (Fetch, the Jack Russell had pancreatitis), two parents working full time and a kid who doesn't help out, we discussed the fate of the flock.

There are certain chickens I would have a hard time parting with. Hedwig, Coco, Legs. Maybe even Blanche, because you just can't replace her weirdness factor.

But this winter has meant only chores and frozen open doors and fences. No time to enjoy, no temperatures allowing anything more than running out with food and water then running back in.

They must have overheard us, because today, there was a record 10 eggs in the nesting boxes. "Let's get to work, girls!" Hedwig must have told them. And they did.

More snow and everything frozen shut

2010-02-08T14:46:00.000-08:00

Winter has been tough on my flock. The snow is so deep that Pumpkin, my little 14-pound beagle, can now climb over the fence with almost no effort. It is also so deep that I can't open the fence to the run, nor can we chisel out the coop door to shut it at night. It's almost like the chickens are on their own - not that I want it that way. I can't even put leaves down in the run so they can walk around outside.

Despite a winter storm warning and blizzard conditions, I went out with fresh food and water and the biggest little comfort a chicken can get when stuck inside: fresh cedar chips. They smell great and clean it up a little in there.

I also put up (hastily) a new string of Christmas lights as the other string had burned out. Now I can see which chickens are braving the cold and walking around the run.

Myself, I have started Vitamin D and upped my fish oil. Winter is getting the best of us all, I'm afraid.

Winter storm

2010-01-07T16:09:00.000-08:00

Lots of snow today and a wind chill advisory saying it is going to get to -25 tonight. Took 1.5 hours to drive home. Had to shovel a path out to the coop. Had to shovel in front of the little door to the run just to get it shut. Inside, I found a frozen egg and some chickens looking at me like WTF?

Last year when it was this cold, we brought our bantam Legs inside and kept her in a 30-gallon aquarium. She loved it! Whenever we went near, she'd start talking to us, letting us know how much she was enjoying her secluded vacation spot.

She's a people chicken. I saw her writing "Wish You Were Here!" postcards to the rest of the flock.

Every time we went to check on the chickens after that, Legs would lift her leg up to alert us to her being cold. I fell for it a few times.

Unsettling

2010-01-05T15:28:00.000-08:00

There is something very strange about coming upon a dead chicken. I've lost 3 now: Big Mama, the Brown One and Peanut. With the Brown One and Peanut, their eyes were not shut but glazed over with that second eyelid that looks gray and translucent. And their legs were straight out, their toes splayed rigidly. Even though they had each fallen over onto their sides, it seemed like they were trying to perch or grab at something. Is this a last fight for life or the natural way that a chicken dies?

We miss you, Peanut. God speed.

Blanche finally settles in

2009-12-16T17:03:00.000-08:00

Last week, Blanche stayed out for 4 days or so. As usual, she never went anywhere. I usually found her in the pine tree directly above the run. I think she finally figured out that it's warmer in the run, with other chickens. She doesn't fly up in my face to try to escape now. She does look the worse for wear - disheveled and unkempt as far as chicken appearances go. But at least she's with the rest of the flock and is trying to blend.

Today I understand

2009-12-16T16:56:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was so cold that we didn't open the coop door to let the chickens outside. Today, we could. But despite adding fresh cedar chips, there is no denying that the coop stinks.

Whenever I mentioned that we were thinking of getting chickens, people raised with them would object. "They stink." "Why would you want them?" "They're stupid and smelly." The only person who ever seemed to like chickens was my friend Pat. When I gave her some eggs, she told me good memories of coming home from school and collecting and washing eggs.

I figured that people who were raised with chickens probably had 200 chickens. Then there would be no way to manage the smell and the smell is horendous.

Now, I get it. Of course, I still love having chickens. But WHEW, the smell!

RIP Peanut

2009-12-16T16:52:00.000-08:00

I found our little Peanut dead today. I don't know what happened. I do know her comb and waddle were getting lighter and lighter, bleaching more and more. I think that's a sign of aging. I am sure Red will miss her, as do we.

Blanche AWOL again

2009-11-28T19:58:00.000-08:00

My husband didn't believe me when I was telling friends how Blanche flies in my face or zips out the door every time I visit the coop. "How hard can it be to keep a chicken in?" he thought.

Yesterday, he learned otherwise. He literally was kicking at her to keep her inside, yet she prevailed. She has been outside for 1.5 days. I found her nesting in the pine tree above the run, I found her walking along the back of the run, I found her walking along the front of the run. Why not just be inside?

A few neighbor kids have rounded her back up for me. But I give up. I just can't keep her inside anymore. Every day, she looks a little more beat up and haggard, but it's her choice. It's like a homeless person who is happier living on the streets than anywhere else. Sometimes you just have to let it be.

Overwintering five

2009-11-21T11:09:00.000-08:00

I've got an extra five chickens for the winter, as my friend Jennifer couldn't get a heated coop going in time. Two are big, beautiful white chickens and make the flock look, color-wise, complete.

One little snafu this week: I started a full-time job two weeks ago, and no one let the chickens out one day. I got home to find nobody in the run, opened the door to the coop and they came out like a can-of-worms. They ran straight to the water.

They then went on a 4-day egg-laying strike. Finally started getting a few yesterday.

Who can blame them?

The prodigal chicken returns

2009-10-30T12:38:00.000-07:00

Without fanfare, Blanche returns. I find her walking back and forth along the run. I herd her back in, this time without Doodles. She immediately runs into the coop. I decide I will give her her own little pile of scratch grains and when I open the coop door to put the grains in, she actually tries to escape. I do not understand this chicken! She must have mad cow.

Still AWOL

2009-10-30T07:21:00.000-07:00

We still can't find Blanche.

Lost chicken

2009-10-29T18:09:00.000-07:00

I can't find Blanche anywhere. We've been driving the neighborhood. We went across the field to what we thought had to for sure be Blanche, but it was just a seagull. I keep looking out the window to see if she's walking back and forth along the run, which is what they usually do. But no Blanche. She's trouble, but I don't want anything bad to happen to her.

There are a lot of terms we use everyday that originate with chickens.

Pecking order.

Cooped up.

Flew the coop.

I think Blanche flew the coop.

Can she use the door bell?

2009-10-29T11:50:00.001-07:00

There is a knock on the door, and I wonder if it will be a kindly neighbor with Blanche tucked under his arm. But it's just UPS.

She did it again!

2009-10-29T11:35:00.000-07:00

I go out to check for eggs, and Blanche slips out again. Then Doodles slips out and I hear lots of frantic clucking. Doodles is trying to chase Blanche back in, and even though I open the coop door for her, Blanche won't go in. She'd rather face the dog, I guess, than the flock.

It reminds me of an article I saw in The Onion. The accompanying photo looked just like Blanche, and the headline said Free Range Chicken Makes It To Bolivia. Maybe that's where she's heading, because I can't find her anywhere.

Blanche gets weirder

2009-10-29T08:38:00.000-07:00

Every time I open any sort of door or gate, Blanche flies up into my face and escapes. She has made many enemies in this flock, and I think she needs a respite. It's really hard to get one chicken back into the run, though, because all the others try to sneak out, too.

We figured out that the our mixed-breed, 10-month-old puppy named Doodles is probably a Border Collie. So we have been letting her round up Blanche. We figured we would let Doodles test out her Boarder Collie-ness on a few chickens that aren't our favorites. Unfortunately, Blanche qualifies. But fortunately, it works.

Blanche completely weirds out

2009-10-14T10:49:00.000-07:00

Blanche has always been a loner - one of those that, if human, would be on the news for committing some strange crime. Sure, she's the cute, fuzzy yellow chick that insists on being in all photos. But you can just see the neighbors being interviewed: Well, she kept to herself, pretty much.

She is now all grown up and doesn't lay eggs very often. We tried calling her Peaches or Peachy, but Blanche is the name that stuck. She has taken up permanent residence in one of the nesting boxes and hisses at me when I open the door. She puffs up and is ready to strike if I put my hand anywhere near her.

For a long time, she just sits, but after a while, discovers that she could be sitting on eggs. It must give her a sense of purpose. I fool her by giving her a plastic Easter egg, or a golf ball. She then stands up and rolls it under with her beak, settling it in with the rest of the brood. I can then see how many eggs she's sitting on. Then she catches on.

So now, I come at her from behind. Since my husband designed the coop with a jutted-out area for the nesting boxes, it has its own flip-up door. (It's really heavy and we have a low-tech way to keep it open: a stick.) I pick Blanche up by the butt, and grab the eggs with the other hand. She can't beak me from that distance.

OK, so Blanche goes broody, you say. But the thing that's so weird is that she also recruits Legs to be part of it. She sits on Legs like she's still an egg. And Legs puts up with it! Why? Warmth? Two outcasts bonding together? Nothin' else to do?

On the occasion where Blanche does leave the nesting box, she heads out into the run for some scratch grains. But she stays puffed up, walking around like a pumped-up body builder on Venice Beach.

I begin to really dislike Blanche. But when she does go into the run, the other chickens pick on her and I feel bad. So for now, I am putting up with her weirdness and hostility. And Legs does, too.

Big Mama

2009-10-12T07:37:00.000-07:00

My husband misses General Mills so much that my daughter and I put a picture of him in a frame and sign it: Dear Jim, I really miss you, too. Love, General Mills.

Big Mama is a black Cochin with feathers on her legs. She is large and in charge and has no problem stepping up to the plate to lead this flock.

And now, blending past and future tenses, I will tell you the full story of Big Mama.

The flock was doing fine. Big Mama made sure each chicken knew where they stood - usually with just the stamp of a foot. It is around this time I noticed that she has an eye that is looking infected. I put neosporin on it every day, but it isn't enough. Soon, her eye is completely closed and she is shaking her head frequently.

One Saturday, I grab Big Mama and am walking around the neighborhood with her tucked under my arm. I ask Joan, who says she looks fine. I ask Mike, who grew up on a farm with chickens, if she looks ill. No - her feathers are fine. She's big and fat and just has an eye infection. Jim agrees.

So, I put Big Mama back with her flock. But two days later, Big Mama completely tanks. She is really, really ill. After frantically trying to figure out how to ring a chicken's neck, then realizing that I just can't bring myself to do it, I find a vet who will help put her down. It's the only humane thing I can do for her. I am crying all the way to the vet, and I can hear Big Mama in the box, shaking her head and trying to make sense of what's going on.

This is my first emergency with the chickens. I am so upset that I let it get to this for Big Mama. It's not till two weeks later that I finally put two and two together: I see a small gang of squirrels enter the run, and I see all the chickens run inside the coop. I am sure that Big Mama would not have stood for having squirrels in her run, and tried to scare them out.

I think Big Mama took one for the team.

I miss that mean old bird.

General Mills declares himself

2009-09-29T15:34:00.000-07:00

We're out with the chickens, letting them free-range in the yard. It's about 8 pm on a Saturday night. We have a fire in the fire pit and the neighbors are over - we're planning to make a few smores.

That's when I see General Mills harassing one of The Brown Ones. She is squawking and trying to get out from under his grip. Still, it has not registered for me what's going on. I go over and kick him, which he completely ignores. I kick him again and he finally gets off. (When I say kick, I mean the way you kick a new-car tire, not a football.)

It finally dawns on me that they were mating!

He gives me a look, then struts into the coop, and, with the light bulb from the coop creating a nice back-dropped silhouette, he starts to crow. It's not a wimpy, test run either. It's not a starter crow, but a full-out "I'm a man!" kind of crow.

And he doesn't stop crowing. He wants the world to know he's had his way with The Brown One. He wants the galaxy to know.

I apologize profusely to the neighbors, and outline my plans for him. But it still takes two days to get him relocated. He ends up with three other roosters and twenty hens at a hobby farm. The new owner assures me that 'hobby farm' is not a euphemism for 'dinner plate'.

As chickens go, there was something to admire in General Mills. He was big and beautiful, white and black with emerald green tail feathers. He ran his flock with assuredness, firmness, but fairness.

Once he's gone, the rest of the hens don't really know what to do with themselves. They are so used to following his lead, they mill about aimlessly for a while. That's when Big Mama steps in.

This shows up

2009-08-26T20:34:00.001-07:00

When I started The Chicken Project, I knew that I wanted to not only make it fun for my daughter, but for our neighbors and community as well. I would keep it clean and smell-free and not have any roosters or complaints.

Since I started it, I've made many new friends who I just love - some who now have chickens. Kids visit. Soccer players from the field take a look. My daughter delivers eggs via her bike (she can fit two 6-packs in her basket) and gets to keep in touch with her 6th grade teacher, Mr. Kolden. And she's got a little business called Arrow Eggs - logo and everything. One dozen eggs only $1.50, delivered.

So, someone hung this sign up, and now, almost a year later, I still have no idea who did. But I like it.

Time to combine

2009-08-21T08:41:00.001-07:00

It's time to move the chicks out with the five. Red and Peanut aren't ready, so they move up to the Loft. From what I've read, this upsets the whole balance of the flock - a new pecking order will be established, and it might be brutal.

But they have to move out sometime. I decide to divide the run in two, and put some wood in between the fencing for the day. That way they'll get the idea that there is something on the other side, and it will be a slow introduction.

But my plan fails when my husband and my daughter decide to do their own thing: throw the chicks in and let the chips fall where they may. Apparently, just because I told them the plan, that doesn't mean it registered. I'm not happy.

The introduction is chaos. There's lots of chasing and running. There's lot of flapping. There's lots of clucking - both the threatening kind and the surprise "What? You're picking on me?" kind of clucking. With a stick, I try to poke the more aggressive ones.

At the end of the day, it is the Sharks versus the Jets - with the five in one corner and the seven in the other. Tomorrow, I won't be surprised to see them in matching T-shirts and tennis shoes, breaking out in dance.

And another

2009-08-13T18:04:00.000-07:00

She's not a chicken, she's a ham.

Photo opp

2009-08-10T18:37:00.000-07:00

Blanche walks into another shot.

General Mills

2009-08-10T18:28:00.000-07:00

Our friends from Northfield (which is the country) ask us if we (from Roseville, the city) know if we have any roosters yet. When we tell them we're not sure, they says we should know by now.

"But we're idiots." I tell them. "We have never been around a chicken that hasn't been on a plate before."

This one gives me reason for suspicion. He acts differently already from the others. I decide to name him General Mills. Plan A for roosters may have to go into affect soon.

She's got legs

2009-08-10T18:23:00.000-07:00

It's Legs! She turns into our smallest and friendliest hen. When she lays eggs, she gets all red and puffs up to the size of a softball. Lucky for her, she lays only once a week or so.

What will she be when she gets older?

2009-08-07T18:30:00.000-07:00

Guess what this one looks like when she (he?) grows up?

Combs

2009-08-07T18:24:00.001-07:00

The chicks are getting these small combs on top of their heads. There are rose combs, sultan combs, funky combs, straight-forward combs. They're growing in like antlers or something. They're soft, and make me wonder even more what these little guys are going to turn into.

The five arrive

2009-08-06T08:58:00.000-07:00

The day has come to pick up the five hens we're going to adopt! Thing is, I've never transported a chicken before. I collected five wine boxes, thinking I'd put one in each. But Lori says a big Rubbermaid bin will do the job. I bring the bin the chicks have abandoned, and we wrangle them all in there - not without a few (namely Stretchie) escapees. It feels a lot like trying to put the worms back into the trick can. We bring them to their new home, then sit around and watch them settle in. It's like watching fish in an aquarium.

These chicks are just so cute but they do grow up fast

2009-07-31T21:42:00.000-07:00

We had been calling this one Stripey, but changed it to Owl, which eventually becomes Hedwig. Here she is then as a chick (left) and now as a full-grown hen (above).

When Big Mama dies, Hedwig takes over.

I picked her up recently. She's at least 10 pounds. She is large and in charge, as you can tell by the "Don't you give me no lip" look on her face.

Coop built

2009-07-31T14:30:00.001-07:00

It was a lot of work, but we are ready to adopt the five: the coop is built, the run is ready and we've bought egg-layer food. We call Lori to tell her we're good to go. Daugther can barely contain herself with the thought of adopting chickens!

Coop situated

2009-07-19T20:08:00.000-07:00

It's not easy deciding where to put the coop. We live on a field where many people walk their dogs off leash. We have raccoons. Both would love a free chicken dinner.

Jim decides to make my daughter's swing set into the coop. There will be three doors: the little one to let the chickens in and out if the run for the day. (We lock them in to keep the raccoons out.) The main entrance for us. And access to the nesting boxes. We decide on four nesting boxes, as they won't all lay eggs at once. We decide that a dog run from Mill's Fleet Farm is just the thing for the chickens' run.

We start building on a Saturday morning, and Jim is so proud that he is using every piece of scrap wood he's ever saved to build the coop.

Things are going along swimmingly until one of the big oak beams falls and conks him on the head. My daughter has the presence of mind to stick a bag of frozen peas on him. When we call Abbott's ER, and they tell us we better come in.

We end up there - with X-Rays and CT scans and 'how may fingers am I holding up' tests - for about six hours. We hadn't had lunch, and now, no dinner, so by the time Jim is released, we are ready to collapse. We have to eat at the hospital's McDonald's and order things we never do: fries, shakes, multiple hamburgers. I can't figure out why a hospital would have a McDonald's, except to assure future business.

I tell Jim I'll get rid of the chicks if this is just too much all together. But the doctor says he is OK, and when we get home, he (not intentionally, but very dramatically) rips his ID bracelet off and gets back to work. What a guy.

What's a few more?

2009-07-01T09:32:00.000-07:00

A trip into the danger zone, i.e. the farm store, means we add two little chicks to the flock. Red has a poofy hood on the top of her (her?) head that just kills me, it's so cute. And Peanut is the teenyest chick ever. The thing with these two, is that the minute I looked at them, I had names for them. Plus, in doing the math regarding number of natural fatalities and number of roosters, a few more will help our odds of getting more egg laying hens. So home with us they go.

Red and Peanut are in the Rubbermaid bin that the seven started in, as they are smaller than the seven and got picked on when I put them in there. Talk about stress. You weigh a few ounces, get put into a new home with seven big strangers, only to get picked on immediately. The big ones are merciless, too.

That night, Red peeps wildly and just won't stop. Peanut is fine, just trying to get some sleep. I cradle Red till midnight, when I know she's good and tired, and place her in the bin in the warm towel I'd been holding her in. She falls asleep. Sheesh. It's like having a new puppy!

Fetch finally notices

2009-06-26T16:11:00.000-07:00

Though we've had the chicks for a few weeks, the dogs haven't noticed. The chicks peep constantly, and move around a lot, so why the dogs haven't noticed, I don't know. Today, Fetch finally discovers them. Daisy, our wheaten terrier, still hasn't - and actually never does. But she is 14.