tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1900615012491477682024-03-19T03:11:39.813-07:00Fractured FarmsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-84948614359377155472015-06-08T13:03:00.001-07:002015-06-08T13:05:15.689-07:00Paging Dr Phil<p dir="ltr">Just when I thought things were finally settling down at Fractured Farm after the addition of six Rhode Island Red chicks and doubling the flock...</p>
<p dir="ltr">Oh, it started innocently enough. Buttercup has always wanted his cuddles and Goosey has gotten into the habit of hopping up next to me in the afternoon, waiting for an invitation to my lap. One of the Red chicks likes to climb up my back and perch on my shoulder like a parrot when I'm trying to do chores; hence her name, Polly. So one day I sat on a straw bale with Polly on my shoulder, Buttercup under my arm and Goosey on my lap. Or so I thought, until Goosey marched up to the interloper on my lap and began pecking her on the head!</p>
<p dir="ltr">Goosey looks exactly like another one of our Orpington hens, except she has black spots on her tail feathers. I checked the attacker and yep, it was Goosey. I was surprised, because she was the only Orpie who'd ever shown any interest in affection before! The one in my lap looked up at me for a minute, then laid her head down on my arm and I turned into a puddle of goo. I had a lovey baby, so of course I called her Lovey. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I fended off Goosey's attacks on Lovey while trying to figure out how to get both of them on my lap. It might have been easier if I didn't have a Silkie rooster under one arm and a six week old Rhode Island Red chick peering into my eye. How did I lose control? I just wanted chickens for safe eggs. I live somewhat close to the contaminated egg factories from a few years ago, and the new bird flu outbreak area. It seemed reasonable, but I didn't plan on them becoming jealous, needy little things.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Buttercup got shoved out from under my arm in all the chaos and promptly threw a tantrum. He did his stomping dance and bit my ankle, as if to say, "this is all your fault!"</p>
<p dir="ltr">"What did I do? I didn't do anything."</p>
<p dir="ltr">Polly decided she'd had enough of the drama and flew off my shoulder. Lovey and Goosey left too, occasionally pecking at each other and Buttercup was completely done with me. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I don't know what I'm going to do with them. Especially Polly, when she's not a four inch tall chick, but a full grown chicken trying to climb up my back and sit on my shoulder.</p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-67350817136232537102014-09-08T09:51:00.000-07:002014-09-08T09:51:17.195-07:00Not Enough Lap<div class="MsoNormal">
I may have to start eating more. I don’t have enough lap.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve already mentioned my snugglebug chickens, Cheeto and
Buttercup. Cheeto is lovey when he wants to be, but Buttercup wants love just
about every morning, and he’s usually pecking at my feet when I’m still trying
to get the fresh food and water out. I haven’t figured out how to separate the
top & bottom of the waterer one handed yet, so I usually have a tantrum
throwing rooster on my hands while I’m throwing the old water in one of the
compost bins and filling it up with fresh water.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The other morning I had two lovey roosters on my lap and we
were doing our morning cuddles when I felt a light pecking on my lower back.
That’s what the boys do when they want to snuggle – they peck, I reach around
to give them a skritch, they snuggle up under my arm and I lift them into my
lap. Ok, these days Buttercup usually jumps when I put my arm out. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, Cheeto decided he’d had enough and hopped out of my
lap so I reached around and pulled a surprised hen into my lap. She blinked at
me a few times but didn’t try to jump down! Well, not until Mr. Cheeto noticed
somebody else in Mama’s lap! There was quite a bit of squawking and wing
flapping, and she eventually hopped down. Buttercup just watched the whole
show. I suppose he was thinking “hey, as long as you’re not trying to get on my
side, who cares.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So now I’m going to have three chickens trying to cuddle in
the morning. Don’t get me wrong, it’s adorable. I never imagined chickens would
want to cuddle. Then again, I never imagined they’d throw tantrums either. That’s
just one more thing they never mentioned in the books. <o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-23857614196676866842014-09-01T09:52:00.001-07:002014-09-01T09:52:46.721-07:00Escape Artists<p dir="ltr">Here's another one that I didn't read about in the chicken books. Some of my feathered kids have turned into escape artists. If I don't open the coop soon enough in the morning, some of my little dears will stage a jailbreak. Don't let them fool you; "dumb cluck" is a contradiction of terms.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Take Honey, for example. I named her Honey because at first she wasn't the brightest crayon in the box and you just wanted to say "oh honey,, bless your heart..." Don't let that sweet face fool you though; if there's a way out of the coop or the run, she'll find it and stage a break worthy of a Stallone movie. The other morning, I went out to parole the chickens and Honey and Fuzzy were roming around the back yard. The minute they saw me, they hightailed it back to the run, squeezed under the gate and stood there blinking innocently at me. It turns out they had popped the screen out of the window and literally flew the coop. So I had two escape routes to fix - the window and the gate. Just what I needed before coffee.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The good thing is that if I can keep Honey in the coop, the others will stay in too. Not only is she a bad influence, but she's the smallest of the chickens. It's just a good thing she's cute and a good layer, and I'm a real softie. She'll break out of the run and when I put her back in, she'll peck around the yard, clucking happily and I forgive her for being naughty.</p>
<p dir="ltr">At least they don't go far when they escape. Dogs will roam for miles and cats can go anywhere but chickens will stay close to their coop. The farthest they'll go is the side of the garage near the front of the house. My only concern is that hawks, eagles and neighbor dogs will go after them so that's why they don't get to free range all day, every day.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I should write a book...</p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-60899473353883533872014-08-05T16:12:00.001-07:002014-08-05T16:12:31.081-07:00Baby (chicken) fever<p dir="ltr">It looks like we're not going to have babies at Fractured Farm this year. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Waaaaaaaaah! I want babies!! </p>
<p dir="ltr">Not people babies, no way. The factory is shut down. If I end up in a family way again, bloodshed will be involved. I cruised past 47 this year gang; a new munchkin would mean all sorts of sucky tests and probably no caffeine. Battle hardened Marines don't want to be around me when I'm told I can't have coffee.</p>
<p dir="ltr">No, I'm talking baby chickens. This time last year Cheeto and Honey were under Mama and we were on Hatch Watch. I was reading books and the kids were trying to peek under Mama but she'd peck at them whenever they got too close. I understood; I wasn't always a cheerful pregnant lady either. At least her kids weren't kicking her bladder and making her barf several times a day. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The boys are trying though. I feel sorry for Fuzzy. He keeps trying to get some action and just gets pecked on the head for his efforts. Do they make blow up hens? Cheeto does better, but he has really bad aim. He was sideways once. That's not going to get the job done. Buttercup has been trying to coach him and that's helped, except he's gotten caught in the middle a few times. I've read a LOT of books about chickens and none of them have covered chicken porn. Please tell me I'm not the only one with an X rated coop.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Animals won't breed when it gets too close to winter so we're running low n baby chicken making time. Maybe I need to put my tablet in the coop and play a little Michael Buble. ..</p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-64911182711510962172014-07-21T10:55:00.001-07:002014-07-21T10:55:42.796-07:00So Much For My Jenna Woginrich MomentI thought I was having a true Jenna Woginrich moment with the chickens this morning. If you haven't read her books, you're really missing out. She writes these beautiful books about her journey from corporate cube drone to living and supporting herself on 6 1/2 acres with gardens, sheep, 2 horses, chickens and all that stuff you dream about when you were stuff in traffic on the way to work, the copier is jammed AGAIN, and some creep stole your Post-It stash. She raises her own food, writes and all that good stuff. It's hard work, but she's only supporting herself and her critters, and I daydream about being Jenna when the boys are chasing each other through the house with shaving cream.<br />
<br />
This morning I thought sure I was having a Jenna moment. The kids were sleeping in, it was quiet out back, and I was doing the morning chores with the chickens. I filled up the waterer, tore up bread (because Honey will lose her mind if she doesn't get bread every morning), put out the little pail of sunflower seeds so the girls will go bobbing for seeds and scattered chicken feed around. Chickens were clucking, Cheeto was crowing now and then and it was so peaceful and nice. It was exactly what I was picturing last winter when the Polar Vortex had me pulling the curtains and watching anything on TV that showed green grass. Buttercup pushed up against me and I pulled him into my lap for our morning cuddle. He snuggled against me, cooing and making all sorts of cute chicken noises and I thought, "I could get used to this." After a minute though, he hopped off my lap and scuttled off, which is unusual for him. I thought maybe he'd caught sight of an interesting bug. <br />
<br />
Then I saw my t-shirt.<br />
<br />
Biiiiiiig wet spot.<br />
<br />
The little creep peed on me!<br />
<br />
Nobody has peed on me since I learned how to change a diaper in under 30 seconds!<br />
<br />
I bet Jenna's chickens don't pee on her.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-22214157283060558842014-03-10T14:44:00.001-07:002014-03-10T14:44:22.767-07:00The Return ofChicken Happy HourOld Man Winter has finally been clubbed into submission and warm temps have arrived. The chickens can finally leave the run and get at the grass that's been buried under a few feet of snow since December and they're getting a little rowdy.<div><br></div><div>Over the winter, love bloomed between Fuzzy and one of our hens, so he didn't take it well when Cheeto decided to engage in what we call Chicken Porn. Hen's squawking, Cheeto is trying to do his thing and Fuzzy is pecking him on the head. Cheeto gave up and Fuzzy moved in to finish the job. Cheeto is a handsome boy but he's not too smart. I think Fuzz will end up opening up the whumpass again. Cheeto really needs a helmet.</div><div><br></div><div>Our neighbor got a kayak over the winter and he finally got a chance to take it out. I wish my phone could zoom enough to get pictures of his dogs as they watched him paddle away from the dock the first time. Imagine two Marmaduke sized dogs, watching a kayak paddle away with a look on their faces that you just know means, "DAD!! DON'T LEAVE US!" I'll give 'em credit, they didn't howl. Dad got love when he got back though.</div><div><br></div><div>Cheeto tried it again with Fuzzy's girl. I told you he wasn't smart.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-18343101268674662452014-01-01T09:49:00.001-08:002014-01-01T09:49:05.398-08:00New Year's Blizzard2014 is coming in with a small blizzard here at Fractured Farm. Ok, the roads aren't drifting shut but the day is still young. They're calling for snow most of the day but the chickens are doing better this winter than last year. Moving the greenhouse so it's parallel to the run may have limited their view of the Mississippi River but it's blocking the wind so there isn't snow in the coop.<div><br></div><div>The chickens seem to be dealing with the cold and snow better than I am. There doesn't seem to be the feather pulling of last winter, which just further convinces me that it was Forte the rooster behind it all. Everybody is much happier since we re-homed him with a chicken farmer who needed another rooster to grow his flock. When the temps first started dropping, they weren't too happy about being stuck inside most of the time, but since I started throwing their food and some corn on the floor of the coop, they perked up. Don't worry, I put fresh bedding down frequently. On the rare occasions lately when it hasn't been below zero, Cheeto and Honey and sometimes a couple of the hens will sit under the coop and soak up the sun. </div><div><br></div><div>Yeah, they're handling it much better than I am. Bud's had a head cold for a week, and I haven't been able to sleep much because of his snoring. Since he's sick, he can't do much but get caught up on TVin the living room, which is something he wanted to do this winter, but binge watching "Dexter" isn't my cup of tea. Serial killers don't help my stress levels, even if they only kill bad guys. I'm huddled under blankets in the bedroom, trying to warm up by watching the Rose Bowl Parade. There aren't a lot of heat vents in the office and while Bud can putz on his computer for a while in there, I can't write with numb toes.</div><div><br></div><div>How many days until spring? </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-495983907397394482013-05-15T14:59:00.001-07:002013-05-15T14:59:33.723-07:00Spring at Fractured FarmI know, it's been ages. We'll get caught up.<div><br></div><div>After what seemed like a never ending winter. Spring finally showed up. Good thing too, because Forte was thisclose to ending up as dinner. It seems that a certain rooster decided that it was MY fault it was cold and he started attacking my winter coat. If I put on a sweatshirt, no problem. If I turned around and put the coat on, he turned into Psycho Rooster. Now the temps are in the 70s and hopefully he'll forget about the coat.</div><div><br></div><div>The chickens are getting more comfortable in the yard and they explore more. I may have to put up poultry netting. I'm sure the neighbors are dying laughing, watching me running across the yard, yelling, "GIT BACK IN YOUR OWN DAMN YARD!!!!" Usually they listen but sometimes Forte gets uppity and won't budge. Usually I go get Bud and that takes care of it. </div><div><br></div><div>Buttercup is starting to get sassy too. He's got a lady friend now (one of the Orpies) and he thinks he's all that and a bag of feed. Either that, or he gets PMS, I'm not sure. One minute he'll let you pick him up and cuddle, and the next he's fluffing up all his feathers and stretching his neck, trying to look like a little, fuzzy badass. He and Fuzzy still get along with Forte so my attitude is, "Whatever."</div><div><br></div><div>I wonder how long it's going to take them to figure out how to get down to the dock...</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-80515365893276827642013-01-22T09:37:00.002-08:002013-01-22T09:37:32.861-08:00Ninja chicken?I think we may need to rename Shake the Silkie.<br />
<br />
We've been debating a name change ever since Bake died last summer. It kinda seems silly to have Shake without Bake but nobody could think of a good one. I want something that reflects his personality, which is sort of butt-head rooster. Shakey likes to make a move on the hens and does NOT like being picked up and cuddled, unlike Buttercup who loves to snuggle.<br />
<br />
The other morning I went out to do the daily chicken chores and I had the big door open into the coop. Shake and Buttercup had been flapping at each other earlier and Buttercup was standing in the doorway, enjoying a rare 45+ degree January day in the Midwest. Suddenly Shake ran over and tackled Buttercup! The two of them tumbled out of the coop and Shake landed in the chicken feed bucket. Don't worry, they're both fine. Shake is molting (loosing a few feathers, perfectly normal) and it's showing up the worst on his head. Right now he just has 2 feathers, one on either side of his head. I don't want to say he looks devilish, but...<br />
<br />
Apparenly I have either a ninja chicken or a budding defensive tackle. The kids want to rename him after some character in one of their videogames who's a tough guy (I can't keep those games straight) but I'm leaning more towards a football-type name like we did with Forte. Maybe the Harbowl, I mean Super Bowl, coming up in a couple of weeks will provide inspiration. You hear that 49ers and Ravens defense? Who wants to have a weird Silkie rooster named after him?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-63994963224850628842013-01-18T11:34:00.001-08:002013-01-18T11:34:31.966-08:00Oh dear, it has been a while, hasn't it? I was swamped at both jobs and just now came up for air, but fear not! The chickens are just fine.<br />
<br />
Since my last update, Winter has come in full strength. I even had to leave work early one day the week before Christmas because a blizzard was raging. So I got home and looked out the living room window to check on the chickens. Now, keep in mind there's a BLIZZARD raging. Guess whose chickens were under the coop, wet and huddled together? Yep, mine. I ran outside to try to shoo them into the coop but they wouldn't budge. Anyone who tells you chickens know what to do on instinct is either lying or doesn't know my chickie babies. Without another thought, I ran outside and dragged the little buggers inside the coop, one at a time. Ok, Forte wouldn't let me grab him but I ended up chasing him in there. That's when I remembered I was STILL IN MY WORK CLOTHES! All I can say is Shout is great at getting mud off of dress pants. <br />
<br />
The chickens stayed inside for the next week. I opened the door for them every morning as usual but they refused to come out. Ok then. I felt really bad because I never want them to be confined but it was their idea. Finally, one morning Buttercup actually walked onto the ramp, flapped his little wings and began crowing. The first chicken to brave the weather wasn't my big, bad rooster, it was my sweet little Silkie rooster who loves to snuggle. Hooray for Buttercup the Brave!<br />
<br />
After that, they finally went outside. I shoveled out the run so they could walk around and now whenever there's snow in the forecast, I put down an old tarp to cover the ground in the run. I pull it up after the snow ends and they have a dry place to run around.<br />
<br />
When the weather got colder, I worried about what treats to feed the babies. Watermelons are hard to come by this time of year, and tomatoes are about worthless. So again, I did what any modern homesteader does - I got on Google. Turns out chickens like raisins. Oh boy, do my kids like raisins. Ever see a bunch of little kids with a pinata after it breaks? That's how they act. We now call raisins "chicken candy" and they get a couple handfuls every morning. <br />
<br />
Egg production has decreased to 2 eggs a day (down from 3-4) but that's ok. It's mostly due to them being exposed to less sunlight. They should pick back up again come spring. And that's when my babies will be a year old! Who wants to help plan a first birthday party?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-10896476078190815122012-10-18T12:55:00.000-07:002012-10-18T12:55:21.572-07:00Meanwhile, back in the nest box...Oh, things have gotten strange at Fractured Farms. Did I mention we now have 3 roosters? Yep, the two little Silkies I picked out were boys. I had a 50/50 chance of them being boys and I tend to have rotten luck. Fortunately, Shakey and Buttercup are ok with Forte being the boss and he hasn't tried to go after them. Shakey and Buttercup have little fights but they're hysterical (I never have my phone with me when they duke it out). They'll both fluff up their necks like those gila (sp?) monsters and try to look all fierce. Then they'll jump at each other and occasionally leapfrog over the other one. I figure it's like puppies play fighting. Whatever, it's cute.<br />
<br />
Speaking of my boy Forte, he's still quite the ladies' man, although I was wondering about him last night. When I went to close up the coop for the night, he was in the nest box that gets the most use. A rooster in a nest box. Okayyyyy...if I hadn't seen him mount the hens on numerous (numerous!) occasions, I'd start to wonder about Forte being confused about his sexuality. Hey, if anybody would end up with a slightly confused rooster, it'd be me.<br />
<br />
The girls are little egg laying machines! We usually get 3-4 eggs a day, which is pretty awesome since there're only four layers. The kids keep finding white feathers in the nest box and Shakey is the only one with white feathers, so they think Shakey is a girl, except I've seen him (her?) crow, or try to. It's pretty funny and pathetic. Maybe I have two confused little chickens. I really think Shakey is a rooster and so does Bud. He's heard all three of the boys going off, one after the other. First Shakey and Buttercup crow, and they're pretty bad (imagine the William Hung of roosters) and then Forte will show them how it's done. I'm trying hard to get that on video too.<br />
<br />
Since we're getting a bunch of eggs, I decided to boil up a few for lunches. I'm SO glad my friend Michelle in Texas got me that fresh egg cookbook! I had to look up how to boil eggs. I mean, I know how to boil eggs; I've been cooking since I was 10 and I used to win lots of blue ribbons for cooking at the county fair. Cooking with "real" eggs is different than using the ones from the store. The ones from the store are who knows how old, so they peel easily after they're boiled. "Real" ones don't peel that easily unless you let them sit out for a few days or boil them for 15 minutes and then immediately put them in ice water. Out of a half dozen eggs, I think only one didn't peel decently. That's not bad.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-5486491746161102182012-10-05T12:00:00.003-07:002012-10-05T12:00:52.342-07:00Freeze WarningOh, my little chickie babies are NOT going to be happy tonight. The official "killing frost" hits tonight, taking with it what remains of my garden. Pretty soon there won't be fresh tomatoes to munch on, or grass, or weeds...<br />
<br />
I'm not sure what I'm gonna do this winter. I'm thinking about starting some tomatoes from seed and trying to keep them going under the grow light in the basement. Or maybe I can till up the ground a bit and plant a bunch of lettuce - they love lettuce and it grows pretty well in the cold.<br />
<br />
As the nights get cooler, the kids don't really want to come out of the coop. Now when I open up the door in the morning, they look at me like "yeah, I'm not leaving this cozy coop." When they do come out, everybody fluffs up their feathers and they look like they're wearing feathered puffy coats. I haven't started knitting for them but I'm tempted.<br />
<br />
Right now I've got the heat lamp from when they were babies in the coop and it seems to be working pretty well. Some people are really anti-heater in a coop and I can understand why (electrical fires are never fun), but they don't have a coop that's getting near-constant breezes from the river. Lemme tell ya, it gets really really cold. If the heat lamp was good enough when they were babies, it's good enough now. It's securely clamped to one of the perches and away from any bedding. The kids love it, they take turns toasting themselves in front of it, like the cats and dog do with the registers.<br />
<br />
FYI, if you get a heat lamp, don't get one with a Teflon coating. Someone wrote in to Mother Earth News in the current issue (Oct-Nov. 2012, I think) and said when they tried one, several chickens died overnight from the fumes. Not good, and I'm really rethinking using nonstick coatings on pans.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-78342407403673649002012-10-01T15:51:00.001-07:002012-10-01T15:52:22.316-07:00Oh boy, oh boy...Ok, I know it's been a while since I posted. I um...um...I kinda forgot my Blogger login info. I forgot which email account I used. See, between both jobs and home, I check 5 email accounts a day. The one for the Blogger account was the Gmail one I had to get when I got my smartphone and I only use it for Blogger, so it doesn't get checked a lot. I don't exactly have an IT department, so I had to assemble the archaeology team to dig through my desk until the Post-It with the log in info was unearthed. So sorry 'bout that.<br />
<br />
Anyway, big chicken news! Apparently Forte is not the only rooster at Fractured Farms. We had a report of Buttercup the Silkie crowing, and one day when I went to see if Buttercup was going off, I discovered Shake the Silkie crowing. I caught Buttercup crowing the next day.<br />
<br />
Oh boy, oh boy.<br />
<br />
Everybody still seems to be getting along. Forte is actually teaching the Silkies how to crow! It's so cute. Forte will go off and then a couple minutes later you'll hear one of the Silkies croaking out a fairly decent crow. They don't seem as loud as Forte so maybe they won't make a whole lot of noise. Bud's worried about bothering the neighbors. I don't know why - my mother in law lives next door and loves all the crowing. We planted some hedges between us and another neighbor, which should help block some of the noise. Besides, we have another neighbor who's louder than all three of the boys put together!<br />
<br />
The only thing I'm worried about is aggression but I haven't seen any yet. Forte is bigger than Buttercup and Shakey put together and he's established himself as the Big Kahuna of the coop. Maybe the Silkies are ok with him being the big boss. And maybe the Cubs will still win the World Series...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-84857747456583000432012-09-02T15:32:00.001-07:002012-09-02T15:32:46.787-07:00The Orpies have names!I couldn't think of any good names for the 4 Orpingtons so I just called them "the girls". This afternoon, after watching Forte shag one of the Orpies for the second or third time today that I've seen, I told him, "I should just start calling you Hugh Hefner." Then it hit me - I could name the Orpies after the Girls Next Door! (I miss that show!) So now we have Holly, Bridget, Kendra and Sara Jean. SJ wasn't one of the original GNDs but she was on a few episodes and I always liked her. So as far as I'm concerned, Forte is now Hef and he has his Girls. <br />
<br />
I wonder if the real Hef would mind me painting a Playboy bunny on the coop. Hef, if you let me I promise I'll help you with a Chickens Next Door pictorial.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-86162769714641446412012-09-01T11:39:00.000-07:002012-09-01T11:39:02.252-07:00Riiiiight...Advice for friends & family of first time chicken farmers. Planting an egg from the 'fridge in a nest box is NOT funny, especially when a chicken is sitting on it when you find it AND when everybody is asking if there's an egg yet AND in this age of smartphones and Facebook/Blogger apps.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-27641472171335709042012-09-01T11:28:00.001-07:002012-09-01T11:28:38.202-07:00WE HAVE AN EGG!!!!!! <div><p>Holy crap!!!! </p>
<br/><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrJrOXkDnWwYCcK36iKzTYZ-jHQ-NWA_NS8vlT4XtcVkmIUcptMzwRIr4mPF9jvO0TUA3QhaggqJZ6Afe5bZgdeJI7O1H-hSN-_wSY4fr1iy8JqxCoxLthCC-B38kMDF_Om87oUkfNsK61/' /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-54984177495635058072012-08-19T14:15:00.001-07:002012-08-19T14:15:01.955-07:00ROFL! <div><p>OMG, I'm sitting out here with the knitting while the kids free-range. Forte is chasing some of the Orps around and just came out of the weeds bouncing on both feet. My rooster thinks he's a bunny!<br>
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-12462994488642077762012-08-13T11:04:00.000-07:002012-08-13T11:04:05.871-07:00Forte's not going anywhere!We've got us a rooster and he's not going to become dinner! Bud admitted to me that when he was looking at chicken videos online, he was kinda hoping Forte was a boy (like we need more testosterone at my house). Right now the game plan is to let Mother Nature take her course and hopefully hatch a few more babies. I mean, they were adorable at 2-3 days old when we got them but to see them fresh from the shell? That's going to be too cute. It'll probably happen when I'm at work though.<br />
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Here's a short video I did this morning, capturing Forte's wake up call. Ignore the mess on the patio, we're working on the house.<br />
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<span class="Object" id="OBJ_PREFIX_DWT1102"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kggGbXspOMo&list=FLfFgKzI8gXgbk9Gez1qm2Pg&index=1&feature=plpp_video" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kggGbXspOMo&list=FLfFgKzI8gXgbk9Gez1qm2Pg&index=1&feature=plpp_video</a></span><br />
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<br />
<span class="Object">Hee hee. The boys were still asleep after I took the video so I snuck into their room and played it for them. They must have jumped a foot! Hee hee again.</span><br />
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<span class="Object">Forte's a good rooster. He doesn't let the girls out until he's done an inspection of the chicken run. One of the girls tried to make a run for it when I opened the door and he chased her away. I let 'em run loose in the garden in the afternoon after work but there's just not enough time first thing in the morning. He doesn't make much more noise than the John Deere factory across the river from us or any of the neighborhood kids. </span><br />
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<span class="Object">I just can't believe Bud wanted a rooter. He didn't want them for the longest time, and then he only wanted 3 (good thing I didn't listen since we've already had 2 fatalities). Now he wants babies. Well, better chickie babies than people ones!</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-14824956000198415862012-08-07T13:27:00.000-07:002012-08-07T13:27:11.649-07:00Uh oh...We've been wondering about Forte and his sexuality for a while now. No, that doesn't mean I have a cross dressing chicken (although I did see some adorable hats at Etsy...). We just weren't sure if she was a he or not. Big old comb on top, red waddle thingie under the mouth, occasionally aggressive...but I had never heard Forte crow so I figured "no crowing, it's a hen." Keep in mind that I ordered hens.<br />
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This morning I went out to let them out of the coop and hand out breakfast. And what do I hear as I turned the corner? "Err err err errrrr..." Oh boy. Yep, Forte is a he. I read all those books and I never knew I had a rooster! Well, we feel better naming Forte after a football player now. And now the big decision - is Forte going to be dinner or do we have to start grabbing eggs ASAP (when they start laying) so they don't grow into more chickie babies? So we're down to 4 laying hens, 2 Silikes of unknown sex, and a rooster. <br />
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At least the neighbors aren't complaining. One neighbor is my mother in law, the one who buys them treats. Another neighbor has the Rhodesian Ridgebacks that occasionally leave "presents" in our yard (he's good at picking them up though). Another neighbor makes more noise than the chickens after work so yeah, I don't think we'll have a noise problem. <br />
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This chicken biz just keeps getting weirder and weirder.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-32389947686726091012012-08-06T13:02:00.002-07:002012-08-06T13:02:38.438-07:00Yet another "first" in my journey of being a chicken farmer. Shakey, one of the Silkies, got trampled in the rush to the feeder this morning. So being a good mama, I picked up Shakey to console her. And she proceeded to poop AND pee on my leg. Ew. There was no time to do laundry before work, so I've got some smelly laundry downstairs and for once it can't be blamed on a junior high boy.<br />
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I've been letting the chickens do a little free ranging in the afternoons. As much as I'd love to have them free range all the time, there are hawks and eagles by my house (eagles in January), plus several of the neighbors have dogs that will come over and visit. I have no idea what Max is, but Rudo and Ellie are Rhodesian Ridgebacks. Translation - biiiiig dogs. My doxie Hershey can walk under Ellie and Ellie is only about 5 months old. <br />
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Sometimes when I let the chickens out, a neighbor dog will wander over and we'll have what a call a Dog Drill. I put myself between the dog and chickens and tell them to stop while I'm herding chickens to the door, which I always keep wide open. They seem to understand when Mama wants them in the coop and they get in there pretty quickly. Forte stands by to help herd and Hershey growls at the dog. Say what you will about little dogs but Hershey is apparently a Rott trapped in a dachshund's body when it comes to "her" chickie babies.<br />
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They seem to be handling the heat fairly well. I heard of another local chicken farmer who lost 300 chickens due to the heat so I should be grateful we only lost Bakey. Those chickens probably didn't have someone bringing them watermelon and frozen veggies when the temps were up. <br />
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It's kinda interesting, I'm starting to lose interest in eating chicken - the kind from the store. I think of those big old factory farms and how those chickens don't get to run amok outside like mine do. That's not to say we're ready to start raising meat chickens! But I think it's time to start getting more of our chicken from the farmer's market than the grocery store. Logan asked me a few questions about raising chickens for dinner. He seemed somewhat ok with it. I told him that chickens don't live too terribly long and it's nice that they can have a good life while they're alive. So maybe in a few years...maybe.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-76493469383412512002012-08-03T11:58:00.001-07:002012-08-03T11:58:50.776-07:00And then there were 7...Can I just say this right off the bat? Having livestock sucks sometimes. We lost one of the Silkies last night, Bakey. I checked on the chickens after work, like I always do, and refilled the water and food. All the chickens went nuts when I let them loose in the garden for a bit and they all munched on some fresh greens (and left my tomato plants alone). I went out about 3 1/2 hours later to close up the coop for the night and Bakey was stretched out in the run.<br />
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I hollered for my husband and went in to try to figure out what happened. The chicken wire was intact and Bakey didn't have any marks or blood on her. Ok, that's good in a way. It's good that one of the neighbor dogs didn't get her, but now I'm stumped as to what happened. Temperatures have been up here, like they have pretty much everywhere else in the US right now. I put out water and ice cubes before work every morning, made sure the fan was on if it was going to be over 90 degrees and called the kids on my lunch hour to have them check the water. First thing I always do after work is check the chickens. (Can you tell I'm blaming myself a bit?)<br />
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Bakey got a quick burial in the backyard, near where Tweetie is. I tell myself that Bakey had a lot of fun in her 3 months of life - fresh air, river views, people to play with her, healthy food, water and plenty of tomatoes and watermelon. I know this is part of having chickens but it still sucks.<br />
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I was afraid to go out to the coop this morning, afraid I'd have more chickens dead from who knows what. The remaining 7 were just fine, although the other Silkies, Shakey and Buttercup, didn't want to come out of the coop. They kept looking out the window and their peeps sounded so sad. Shakey didn't want to be picked up and eventually came out of the coop. Buttercup stopped on the ramp and looked so sad, I picked her up and snuggled her for a bit. After a few minutes, she wanted down and ran off to play with the other chickens. <br />
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I'm worried about the rest of 'em. I don't know what happened to Bakey so I can't keep the others safe. Bud thinks Bakey had a heart attack, based on the fact she was stretched out in the middle of the run, like she was a marionette whose strings were suddenly cut. I don't know if chickens can have heart attacks! A couple of generations ago, I could have gone and asked the neighbors what could have happened, or I might have known because I grew up with them. It's amazing how much knowledge can disappear in just a couple of generations.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-80730137751251295422012-07-23T08:43:00.002-07:002012-07-23T08:44:23.825-07:00Hi gang! Sorry for the delay in blogging, but I was on vacation, and you know how security experts scream about mentioning that you're going on vacation online.<br />
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We went out of town for 3 days, which meant we needed a chicken sitter. Yeah, tried to find one of those lately? You can always find somebody to watch the dog, and as long as the litter box is clean & there's tons of food and water, cats will be ok for a few days. Not chickens. Luckily one of the neighbor kids moved off a farm a year or so ago and they raised chickens. Score! I checked with his mom, and then Logan E became our official chicken sitter.<br />
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Getting ready for vacation means more work when you have chickens. I didn't want the neighbor kid to have to deal with chicken droppings, so I mucked out the coop before we left. I also scrubbed out all the feeders and the water jug. We had orientation sessions and my mother in law sat in, in case he had questions or she needed to do something sometimes. The feed bin was full, I refilled the little bucket of grit in the coop and told my chickie babies that I would miss them.<br />
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Oh boy, did I ever miss them. When I'm grumpy at home, I go see the chickens and after a loooong drive and a crappy attempt at sleep in a hotel bed, I wanted my chickens. It was a little better the second night and we drove back the third night. Wheee, a decent night's sleep and my chickens! I was afraid they'd be mad, since this was the longest I'd ever been away from them (the dog goes nuts when we get home, the cats ignore me for a day or 2). They missed me too! I got lots of pecks and they went crazy over my blue toenails but at least I wasn't getting the silent treatment. Logan E did a great job of taking care of them so we're set the next time we go out of town.<br />
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The only bad thing is that it's been hot lately and the coop needs mucking out again. Yuuuuuuk.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-51320500498312939132012-07-09T11:52:00.000-07:002012-07-09T11:52:11.644-07:00Wait a minute...Ok, the chickens are supposed to be my babies. I'm the one who read up on them for years, talked Hubby into building a coop, tiled and painted said coop. I'm the one who schlepps out to let them out in the morning and put them back in. So how did it work out that the kids named the chickens?<br />
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The only one I got to name was the late Tweetie and honestly, what else do you call a big yellow chick (besides Big Bird, I guess)? Right now we still have 4 unnamed Orpies because I can't tell the difference by looking at them. I can tell the difference with one of them by sound - we have an Orp who sounds more like a goose. Right now she's Goosey. Granted, that's not too much of a surprise since we live by the Mississippi and there's Canada geese all over, but it's still weird and not much of a surprise to anybody who knows us. <br />
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Take the Silkies, for example. We have a coal black one and that's Buttercup. Why? I have no clue except that it was named by my 10 year old on the way home from Miss Effie's Farm, where we got the Silkies (Miss Eff and I went in on an order). The other two are Shake and Bake. I didn't want to call them that. A) You don't eat Silkies and B) even if you did, there isn't enough meat on their bones to make a decent chicken nugget, let alone need Shake & Bake seasoning. The boys came up with the name and I think my mother in law may have been in on that too so the Silkies remain Shake and Bake, although I call them Shakey and Bakey.<br />
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Then there's the one Orpie with a name. That's Forte and Logan named it. I'm really starting to wonder about Forte. She may be a he. Uh oh. On the plus side, if she's a she, she probably wouldn't be happy with a boy's name. If he's a he...well, that's a problem we didn't plan on. Especially since I ordered FEMALE chickens from the farm store! They were supposed to be 6 buff Orpie girls. Instead, I end up with 5 buff Orpies, whatever the heck Tweetie was, and now Forte might be a boy. Like there isn't enough testosterone in my house.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-32763048786928367002012-07-01T16:10:00.001-07:002012-07-01T16:10:36.107-07:00<div><br/><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimwZxb52oxYNwpXwf7ALS3TvT4b1oQTYCsWfZ2JHzw4oUfizDT163dzAYvyc7Mn8ZlAMLIi6loPJkk7t2mKznteycb-83yZ8LPCqzDwAyjL07rAdzByZgxvdEYDMvm0KZTJiARpgLNe479/' /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190061501249147768.post-53171596508064541912012-07-01T16:07:00.001-07:002012-07-01T16:07:40.942-07:00We love watermelon!<div><br/><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcuLvbv-oNUpRRthaNFSRm2zRfI5S0CMQ-z2En2k_mIUYT3mEQqAlpXSgsRT-NSNw63Ep-1YGUMbaXpztHtJfEblB0RXK5NcMLGCLcea9eZ8zW6W9aYwwMH2DW4QJKhX9KKDzECz1vV7lP/' /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03796225370341597073noreply@blogger.com0