Chicken and Egg

      I have had chickens ever since we built our house on the back of my great-grandparents farm almost 20 years ago. We used scrap wood, old tin, and a salvaged door and window to make the little hen house and my daddy got some pretty little chickens from a lady he did refinishing work for. It was lovely. But then came the possums, and the raccoons, and the neighbor dogs, and the hawks...Needless to say, I started out with chicken tragedy. After that my hubby brought home some old railroad ties he found and we made a run of scrap wood and old pieces of PVC pipe. I wrapped wire all over this and then we ran the wire down and stapled it to the railroad ties and buried the wire a bit into the ground. Not exceedingly pretty, but you should have seen old Mr. Hawk's face the first time he tried to swoop down on my chickens after the wire was in place. It wiped the hungry grin right off his beak!
     Later a kind man gave me his old barn wood and we covered the outside and I decorated with some old junk from the dump. Since then I have rarely had any problems, only enjoyment. All the magazines and books make raising chickens seem like brain surgery. My Granny had chickens, ducks, and geese all over the place and they took care of themselves just fine, no medicines, special mulch, or gourmet food.

     I have a gorgeous mix of chickens that changes as some age and die naturally, and we introduce new chicks. I don't have any banties right now (some of my favorites) but I have Buff Orpingtons, Wyandotte, Cochin, Plymouth Rock,  Brahmas with feathered feet, Dominikers, and lots of Ameraucanas. I only have one chicken that lays white eggs and that is my youngest son's pet, Clementine. Clemmy is a Silver Spangled Hamburg, and such a sweetie. She doesn't mind being held at all.

Doesn't she have the cutest blue ears, beak and feet?!

      My favorite egg layers are the Ameraucana, the Easter Egg layers. I get  rose, blue, and green eggs from them. I keep my eggs in a bowl in the fridge so that I can see them whenever I open the door. Just seeing them makes me happy, and when I cook I always have to pick and choose. A blue one and a speckle one for this batch of cookies...

     Our dogs are very good about not bothering the hens when we let them out to forage in the yard. I love to hear them talk to each other, just like a squabbling bunch of old women gossiping in the grass. And then they think they hear or see something untoward and they dash for the chicken house looking like little ladies holding skirts up to their knees with a fat, feathery petticoat hanging down behind. By the time they are near the house they generally realize there is nothing to fear and they instantly begin picking at leaf and stick again as if they were quite sensible and unflappable creatures.

     Then there is the sound of egg laying. Not all of them holler when they lay, but some do every time. I guess they never quite get over the surprise. It sounds like a shrill, squawky , "Oh, law!", "Oh, my!", "Oh, heaven!", and then it is over and there is the egg. It is very funny to see young chickens you have raised finally come of age to lay. Often you will find the egg out on the ground, or in the grass, or on the rails inside the pen. They seem to have no clue it is about to happen. None of the older hens are gracious enough to warn them and then all the sudden-"Did I do that?!" They always seem so shocked that it is quite comical. It only takes a day or so for them to realize that eggs are to be laid inside the house, even if you have to squeeze into the "best" of three nests with another chicken to lay your egg

   

     A gentleman down south got a batch of chicks and 5 turned out to be males. You do NOT want more than one rooster as they will fight each other constantly and the non-dominant one will take his ire out on the hens. Since the man didn't relish the idea of killing and cleaning chickens he gave them to us. When they are fattened up sufficiently we will have them to put in the freezer for chicken and dumplin's. For now they yell about how each is greater then the other, and strut about eyeing the lovely ladies in the nearby pen. The hens watch this with indifferent eyes. They are all pets and know that their life will be a good and long one. I have had chickens that lived and thrived and laid eggs long after the expected life span of the average chicken. I like to think that they are happy, as much as they have thought beyond bug and grain and a bit of watermelon rind. I know that they make me smile, both chicken and egg.

"If I hadn't started painting, I would have raised chickens." Grandma Moses