cluckity-cluck-cluck

Posted by in farm, food

the chickens turned a whole month old on monday. to celebrate, we moved them out of their brooder in the laundry room to their brand new coop in the yard. i couldn’t be more thankful. they’re SO BIG now, that they were kicking up dust from their bedding and it was EVERYWHERE in the laundry room. i spent the entire day (between diaper-changes, meals, naps, playing, and reading) wiping down the room and cleaning it two times over. remember these cute little fuzz-balls?

they are now not so cute. they’re turning into chickens, and have scrawny necks with patches of bald waiting for their feathers. their feet are awkwardly too big for their bodies (just like in the 7th grade!). however, where their feathers are fully grown in, the patterns are beautiful, and there are glimpses of their full-grown beauty when they stretch out their wings. i am sure that in no time at all, they will be beauties.

here are our girls, all happy in their new digs:

a golden buff (front) and a buff orpington (rear) checking out the ramp:

feeding time:

three silver-laced wyandottes and a buff orpington:

did i mention how happy i am to have them out of our house? don’t get me wrong, i love the girlies, but they really do stink. in ways you didn’t think possible. and not like “dirty farm smell,” it’s more like something died in our laundry room on top of the dirty farm smell.

the chickens are still confined until our neighbor’s dog is trained to stay inside his brand new invisible fence. how nice of our neighbor to set up an expensive system to keep her big pure-bred pointer dog from eating all 15 of the chickens.  i think the plans for the fence were already in the works, but when she heard our chickens were living in their coop soon, she got the fence buried and began training her dog.

if only we can figure out a way to keep hawks, foxes, and raccoons from preying on them.

the chicken-hobby is a big project, but one that we’re enjoying. we have to keep the boys away from them most of the time “but they’re my friends, mommy!” is rowan’s excuse for wanting to hang out with them all day long, and what he repeats to us when we tell him it’s time to leave them alone.

by september, we might see a few eggs…but by spring, they might all begin to lay. or mostly.