Clever Birds Create Egg Hunt from Time to Time

All of the rain recently has made mowing the grass an almost twice a week chore. Mowing grass out at the farm isn't just a 15 minute job either - running the mower at high gear and not stopping at all, it still takes about three hours to get all of the weeds knocked down. 

When I first moved to the country, folks would tease me and say that I need to "get some goats" to handle mowing the grass. 

That seemed like a great idea except two things; 1. I didn't have fence and thus could not safely house goats, and 2. goats (apparently) aren't big grass eaters. So much for furry mowing machines. 

Since the day that I purchased my first chickens, I've discovered how quickly chickens can decimate an area of green grass if not giving enough room to roam. That first winter with the birds, at my former house in Columbus, I remember looking out back at my little 40' x 60' plot of grass and staring with both sadness and surprise that four little chickens had picked the ground clean of almost all of the grass - effectively turning what originally was a backyard oasis into barren ground filled with lots of mud. 

I've determined over the years that chickens seem very similar to hogs in that they love stomping around in mud and really don't care if they get it on their feathers - always looking for that next scrap of food. They seem to delight in getting white, fluffy feathers caked with dirt and muck and then, because they're just that crazy, they step into their nesting boxes, lay an egg and thus cause more work for me, the farmer, to have to do more cleaning on the eggs than is usually necessary. Is it so much to ask for them to wipe their feet, uh, claws, before stepping into the box?

The obvious solution to this predicament is to have fresh pasture for them to roam in and browse and, after some true trial and error, I believe that I finally found the proper ratio of chicken to grass to allow the fowl to browse through the field; looking for bugs and snipping little green tidbits off the tops of the blades of grass. Smacking their beaks with obvious enjoyment. 

It makes egg collecting so much more pleasant too - clean feathers and thus, clean nesting boxes. There is just one catch to allowing birds access to a large field. When it comes time to collecting eggs, not all eggs make it to the nesting box. 

A hen lays an egg when the urge happens and she doesn't always make it back to the nesting box in time if she's out in the field grazing for juicy insects. 

What happens then? She finds a secret spot in the field and lays her egg right there. That means that egg collecting sometimes turns into a real life Easter egg hunt. 

Time reasons during the week don't allow me to search every day for these wayward eggs, but at least twice a week I'll walk the pasture - checking the bigger tufts of grass to see if these hold a secret stash of eggs, the hen deciding to keep them from my collecting hands. 

I believe the largest clutch of eggs I ever found on one of my hunting escapades was 24. How the hen managed to hide these eggs from me for so long was a mystery but when I found the eggs I couldn't use them, not knowing how old they were, so the creatures of the field got a great snack that night of fresh eggs. 

I still marvel at the cleverness of these birds - learning so much more about them than just a tasty meal and thinking from time to time how these fowl are related to the tyrannosaurus rex dinosaur. Welcome to Jurassic Farm. 

Until next time...

A Little Chicken Talk for the Week

This week, I allowed one of the original flock hens, Gertrude, to speak from her perspective in this article on seeing me around more often and the constant quest of the chickens' search for food.  

BA-GAWK! We've noticed that the lady that gives us food has been coming down to our barn more often and NOT bringing treats every time. She's concerned herself with cleaning our living quarters (why she doesn't like the "art" that we've worked so hard to create on the perches is beyond us) and we've noticed that our food container is almost always filled to the brim these days. We've also noticed that we don't see her carrying the big water container up the hill anymore. That being said, she still manages to fill it and very quickly now - something about water being hooked up now in the barn. 

That must be a good thing because she's not as grouchy when carrying the container back into our living quarters. 

We can't help ourselves and gather around her while she's trying to work, oftentimes being nudged out of the way by her big black boots. The other day one of us got in the way and she stepped on the toes of one of my fellow coop mates. There was a lot of squawking that occurred and I noticed that the lady almost fell trying to maneuver herself out of the way. She thinks that our little cluckings and coos mean that we love her, but really they mean that we're looking for some kind of magical treats to fall from her pockets. After all, she's always carrying big bags of food into the barn so there must be some kind of secret stash on the other side of the coop door. 

When she's collecting eggs each day, occasionally she'll leave the coop door open that leads into the rest of the barn. A couple of times a few of us have tried to step into the big room to see what's there, but we're quickly shooed back into our coop. Something about making a mess and not being protected. What's a gal to do when you want to see what's happening on the other side? 

The lady carries a thing called a cell phone with her when she's in our coop and she's always taking pictures of us with it. Sometimes she does what we've learned is called a Facebook Live and she tracks us with the phone as we move about our home. I'd like to say that we're famous, but we don't see any of the royalties from such fame. How about some extra mealworms? Is that too much to ask?

Apparently all of this extra attention is due to something called a pandemic and it's why the lady is around more often. I don't know what a pandemic is, but if it's not something I or the others can eat we're really not interested. 

Somehow I think if we try to trip her up again the next time she's filling our feeder or our water container, the treats that I know she's hiding will fall from her pockets by the mounds. I just have to plot how to do that and one thing us chickens definitely have is time. Just wait until the next time she comes to fill our feeders. BA-GAWK! 

Mother's Day is the Time to Plant - Right?

Allow me to switch gears just a bit this week from talking about chickens (though my "meat seeds" are enjoying their time outside). On the farm, I not only raise chickens but also attempt to grow some sort of edible produce each year. The garden is set in an open field that, just a few years back, was a corn/soybean field.
That being said, I have tried each year to enrich the soil to make it a more hospitable place for vegetable plants. The extra spent brewer's grain that doesn't go into the dog treats or to the chickens, vegetable peelings, and the ever prevalent offerings of the chickens are put onto the soil each fall and are then worked into the ground in the spring to make the soil as rich as possible.
The first year that I moved to the farm I tried desperately to grow every type of vegetable I could lay my hands on.
Of course, this was absolutely a disaster because the ground had recently been a field of soybeans and, no surprise that first season, volunteer soybeans continued to pop up between the tomatoes, peppers, melons, corn and broccoli.
Not deterred, I planted a smaller amount of vegetables the next summer and saw fewer soybean plants. However, the ground decided to rebel and the weeds took over - choking out the tomatoes, peppers and covering the watermelons and pumpkins.
So much for opening a small roadside stand to sell official Jackson County melons. If my memory serves me I at least had a tiny harvest that season; 4 pumpkins and 2 watermelons.
YouTube has a host of videos from other people that are trying their hand at the "homesteading" thing and I began to glean every bit of information from these videos on how to prevent weeds. What I discovered was a plastic woven cloth that is fastened to the ground with landscaping staples or sandbags and blocks the ground from sunlight, effectively preventing any undesirable plants from growing. Genius!
I purchased the woven cloth last spring and put it on the ground. All I had to do was burn small holes to put the plants that I wanted into the ground. Enter the propane torch which I failed at - how was I to know that the flame was so sensitive to the ever present wind that blows on the hill?
Frustrated about the inability to even burn a small hole, the chickens took over my focus and there was not a garden last year at all.
The only way to "win" at this farming thing is to make sure that there are multiple sources of income coming in and, after attending a small farms conference this February, I decided to try again. This time, I didn't burn holes in the plastic but cut them. The ground below the plastic is wonderfully weed-free and the earthworms love the protection and warmth that it gives. I planted 6 tomato plants and a variety of radishes, lettuces and rainbow carrots. I've already gotten a small harvest of radishes. So far, I'm winning.
There's an old saying that if you plant after Mother's Day any threat of frost should be past, but this year is a little bizarre in so many ways. It appears that any of us who decided to put plants into the ground a bit before this date will need to tuck in the sensitive plants from threat of frost this weekend.
It is Indiana after all and I wouldn't be surprised if we don't get small flurries on top of everything else.
My moniker on the street is Mutha Clucker amongst friends and this weekend gives me a moment to realize how much mothers near and far give to make sure that things grow and flourish. It doesn't matter whether you're a mother to adorable little humans, fur/finned/feathered babies, or plants. Anything that grows, grows because someone cared. A large wish of thanks to all of the mothers out there this weekend and stay warm!

A Very Meaty Subject

We are watching with anticipation the plight of farmers across our nation. We see scenes of dairy farmers having to toss out millions of gallons of milk because the demand is not there, people are concerned that there will not be enough meat for people to eat because of outbreaks of the Covid-19 virus at meat processing plants, the concerns go on and on.
That being said, I've also noticed that people in our small community have stepped forward as much as they can to purchase their needed foods from our community's local farms. I've also noticed that gardens are popping up where they may not have before and the sale and demand to own chickens is astronomical. People are realizing that they need to return to a time where we grew our own food or depended on the local farm to provide the needed daily sustenance.
As many of you know, I've had egg laying chickens for over 5 years now and I think of the countless number of eggs that these birds have provided to me and to those who have purchased from me over the years. I've enjoyed gathering the eggs each day and the thought of someday being brave enough to raise chickens for meat just seemed a foreign and scary thing.
All of that changed this week on Wednesday when a box of 50 peeping cornish cross chicks arrived at our local post office.
These chicks were ordered far in advance of the pandemic so I had no problem with supply at the hatchery and I split the cost with a friend who also wanted to raise meat birds (insider tip - it's cheaper (cheeper? lol) to purchase in larger amounts.
I've never ordered that many chicks at one time so the noise on the way home was crazy loud as the chicks were chirping. Chicks can survive after hatching for a max of 3 days with no food or water, but after that amount of time, they really start complaining. A strange side effect is that I literally feel pain when I hear their distressed chirps. I can't explain it except to say that it must be like a human mother hearing her child cry when it is hungry, etc.
I arrived home with my share of the chicks (20 to be exact with an extra 2 tossed in by the hatchery to make sure that I received what I ordered alive), set up their brooder with heat lamp, water and food and gently removed them from their shipping box into their new home for the next couple of weeks.
I'm happy to say that they instantly calmed their loud chirping and immediately noticed the food and water. The noise was reduced to gentle purring (yes, chickens purr) and soft contented peeps.
The birds are adorable right now, little portly fluffy yellow bodies and the thought of turning them into meat in 8 short weeks seems a bit terrifying but I also know that the meat from a local farmer or the store has to come from somewhere. I also understand that these birds will quickly grow from cute and fluffy to smelly and feathery.
As our environment changes with the search for sources of meat and other produce, I encourage all of us to consider raising our own food or searching out one of the many farms in our community who sell all different types of meat and produce. We are in the heart of melon country after all. Stay well my friends.

Things Have Gotten a bit Ducky Around Here

Quarantine has been very interesting to say the least. I've found my days checking work email, collecting eggs, staying on top of the farm chores during breaks, returning work phone calls, delivering supplies to friends and family in need, working odd hours, it's definitely been an adjustment as I know it has been for so many of you.
With Easter on the horizon, and today being the Christian holiday of Good Friday, I thought it only fitting to bring to you the successful story of the four ducks that recently hatched on the farm.
If you have followed the Purple Shamrock Farm Facebook (or Instagram) page, you know that I have tried unsuccessfully three times this year to hatch duck eggs. Several of the eggs almost made it to hatch and, for whatever reason, just did not survive to come out of the egg.
I was about to give up when I decided to try once more. As it stood, I put these duck eggs into the incubator on March 10th, a few days in advance of the stay at home order. On March 13th, when we knew that we would not be working in our office any longer, I held out hope that maybe, just maybe these eggs would bring some hope in the days following.
As an unexpected blessing, from having to work from home, I was able to stay on top of the humidity this time and after candling the eggs after a week, I discovered that all four of the eggs had development in them. I knew the chances of all four making it weren't great, but I was very hopeful that at least one of the eggs may make it to hatching.
Fast forward to two and a half weeks into their incubation period and I candled the eggs again to find that all four were still very much alive and developing. They were going to make it to the famous "lock down" period. I knew it was selfish of me to want all four to hatch, but I also knew how much I needed (and those following the journey through social media) needed the joy that would come with four little ducklings making their way into the world.
Ducks usually take 28 days to hatch (give or take a day just like any baby delivery) and on the 26th day I noticed that all four eggs had little "pips" in them. I was beyond overjoyed.
I also learned during their hatching process that ducks take a lot longer to come out of their shells because it was 48 hours later that the first duck emerged from its shell.
The "parents" of these eggs were supposed to be Rouen ducks which are a breed of domesticated Mallard duck. Imagine my surprise when the duckling which emerged was not the traditional black and cream color but yellow!
Intrigued, I reached out to my fellow poultry enthusiasts who said that the parents could have looked purebred, but that there were genes recessed that brought some unusual ducklings to the mix.
After the 29th day, the final duckling of the four eggs emerged and I was thrilled to have two Rouen colored ducklings (the black and cream color) and two yellow ducklings (most likely will be white).
The shells now lay empty as the ducklings happily enjoy their hatch mates and will be experiencing their first swim in a week or so.
I think we can all be reminded that even in the midst of uncertainty and fear that there is new life happening all around us. Be sure to find some of that joy as we go through this time together. A very Happy Easter to all of you.

Quarantine on the Farm

No surprise that we all have been a bit "cooped up" recently with the novel coronavirus, Covid-19. Though it has made commerce interesting when headed into town, I've decided to look at it as an opportunity to grow and learn some new things.
I've also been validated in having a farm, and knowing some of the lost arts; sewing, canning, growing your own food, baking and cooking have their definite perks in a stay-at-home period of time.
Shortly after the local stores were wiped out from toilet paper, you guys, I still don't understand that one, people next turned to emptying the shelves of milk, eggs and bread as well as fresh fruits and vegetables.
It didn't take long before I began being contacted by people, who I hadn't heard from in years, asking the popular question, "do you have any eggs?"
Once again, the mighty chicken shines through.
If there has to be a time of the year where there has been a run on eggs in the stores and they are out, spring and early summer is the prime time for laying hens in the flock.
I've been fortunate that there have been over 20 eggs collected every day the past few days and I've been able to fill most orders within a few days. That being said, the eggs in my henhouse are disappearing almost as fast as they can be washed and packed into cartons.
I've also discovered something else in this whole time of sparsity. The hatcheries that usually send chicks out to a few folks every spring and fall season are now running low on their supplies of laying hens and chickens. It appears that we are returning to a time that used to exist in the past. People are turning back to being self-sufficient and learning how to grow their own food again.
I'm fortunate to be able to speak to my mom and dad every few days and as I was talking to my mom the other day I mentioned that I believe that people will be growing more gardens this year than they ever have. Perhaps because they have extra time from being quarantined at home, but maybe perhaps that they realize that they could provide for their own families and themselves by growing the food right in their backyards.
Back in 1917, growing gardens and keeping chickens was considered patriotic. Times were tough, the economy was suffering and people were encouraged to grow their own food.
Fast forward to 2020 and I believe that we are about to enter another era of people realizing that we can't "always get what we want" (to quote a Rolling Stones song) and we can fix this by growing a small garden or keeping a few hens around to provide fresh eggs.
None of us know when this whole event will truly be finished, but I believe that if we use this time to better ourselves and our community - we will make it through this. The experts say that it takes 21 days to keep a habit and I know that we will have this amount of time in this event if not more.
Me, I plan on growing more chickens and adding to my flock this year. You might even find me with a successful garden this season. Stay Strong Seymour - we can do this!

Finding a Feed Freezer - You never know what you're going to need on the farm

Since I am still relatively new to farming, I never know what supplies I need until I need them.
To help me learn more about all things farm and gain experience to, one day, own horses, I volunteer from time to time out at Reins to Recovery Therapeutic Riding Center. The first time I was in their barn (a couple of years ago), I couldn’t quite figure out why they had a full size freezer in their stable area.
Being very naïve at the time, I figured it was because they needed storage for vaccines, etc. for the horses.
Then during a Saturday feeding, another volunteer who was with me offered to corral the herd into the feeding area and I offered to fill the feed buckets. Easy, right?
I walked into the barn and start searching for either feed bags or something that was, what I thought, a traditional animal feed storage bin. Nothing. I continued my search - hoping that somehow horse feed would materialize before the other volunteer, a gal who was well seasoned in all things equestrian, thought I was completely incompetent.
After several minutes, the other gal had walked back into the barn and asked where the filled buckets were. I replied incredulously, “I don’t know where the feed is – they must be out.”
I really think I could have heard the eye-roll of the other gal, but she smiled gently as she walked towards me.
You long-time farming folk out there are most like snickering by now because you know the secret to storing animal feed without having mice and other rodents get into it.
You guessed, it, an old freezer.
The other gal lifted the lid to the freezer and instead of ice crystals, I saw a large amount of feed that covered almost half the interior of the freezer. A freezer that had long passed its electric life and now was used to protect the expensive feed from rodents and anything that would be lurking for a free meal in the barn.
It makes perfect sense - it's big, made of steel and/or aluminum and seals like any other expensive storage container. You can fit multiple bags of feed at a time in it so there is no chance that other bags that haven't been opened yet can be gnawed.
Reins to Recovery identifies all of their folks associated with the facility as their "Barn Family" and I love that shortly after my snafu with the barn freezer, I started getting advice that I needed to get a used, no longer working, freezer for my chickens' feed.
I put the ask on Facebook one Saturday afternoon and it's amazing how many folks are clamoring to unload a freezer on an unsuspecting, still somewhat, green farmer. Some didn't understand that the freezer was not going to be used to keep anything cold and others didn't understand that I really didn't need a body-size freezer in my small barn.
I have a flock of under a hundred chickens - I'm not going to be purchasing a pallet of feed anytime soon.
I did finally find an appliance that will serve my needs quite well and I'm anxious to try it out. Between the pseudo barn cat (that's a story for another day), the traps, and this new freezer - I should not have much problem controlling freeloading rodents.
Had you told me years ago that I would need a non-working freezer for my barn I would have absolutely laughed at you. Now, I realize I can't live without it.

Small Town Chick at Our Library

Miracles happen daily at our local library. Kids, and adults, learn to read, discover things they've never seen before through events and activities, have access to computers and mobile hotspots for check-out, grab the latest titles of books, read newspapers, take classes that are almost always free, the list goes on and on. 

Recently, a miracle happened that involved the staff in the Children's Department at the Jackson County Public Library (JCPL), Seymour location. 

About three weeks ago, I brought five chicken eggs and an incubator to the library with a few directions to keep the humidity at 60%-65%, and the temperature around 98°F. My contacts were Children's Services Assistants Nikki Axsom, and Jason White, to take charge of the incubation for the next 21 days. 

I saw the concern in both Nikki and Jason's eyes as they listened to me ramble on about how to make sure everything was optimal for the eggs. I knew they would do a great job, but in the days that followed I was overwhelmed with gratitude for their willingness to train everyone in their department along with their Head of Youth Services, Lola Snyder, on how to care for these eggs. 

Every day I enjoyed getting messages from the team asking if the temperature was ok, if the humidity was ok when it dropped, and any other concern that they had. I discovered that the staff were researching, reading, and gleaning any information available that they could share with the many children that enter the department each day. 

As time continued, it was discovered that only one egg had been fertilized and was developing. That put the pressure on that the one remaining egg just HAD to hatch. 

When Day 21 of incubation arrived, I received messages early in the day that the chick hadn't pipped yet (that is breaking through the shell) and great concern held heavy over the department that all of their hard work may not result in a live chick. I was hopeful, but starting to get a bit discouraged as well. Would it not make it?

Later in the day however, I received a text message from Nikki stating "It Pipped!" along with a photo to show the tiny break in the shell. A few hours later and a tiny silkie/cochin chick emerged in the late hours of the evening with no one to witness it except a camera that the Children's Department had set up to catch the event. 

I received a message from JCPL's Maintenance Specialist, Ron Duncan, around 7:30am the next morning as I was getting ready for work with a photo attached saying "It has hatched." I beemed - they had all learned something from this experience. 

When I got to the library a short time later, the staff seemed to be filled with pride that this little creature had blessed their world. I'm so happy that they were able to learn a new appreciation for something so many of us in the rural world see every day. 

If you have the opportunity, you'll have to check out the story of the little chick on the JCPL's Facebook page. The staff even got together and picked out a name for the baby - Fin (or Finley). I just love SeymOURtown! 

Hatching Adventures are Just Ducky!

So I know a few weeks back you might have read about my desire for that time of year when chicks start hatching on the farm.
The writing of that article must have sparked some big desire because this year I have not one, not two, but three incubators currently playing surrogate hen/ to around 10 potential hatchlings.
As of the writing of this article, there has been one hatch so far of baby chickens and all 6 eggs in that incubator hatched without fail.
The ducks which I have on the farm, now named after Mary Poppins characters; Bert and Mary, started producing eggs in early January.  So on a whim, I placed a couple of duck eggs into one of the incubators with my chicken eggs and to my surprise - one of the two eggs began to develop a duckling inside!
The unhatched duckling was quite the spectacle on the farm's Facebook page, Purple Shamrock Farm. People commented that they wanted frequent updates and photos of the developing youngster which was just a silhouette on the other side of the shell.
I wish I could have said in this article that the "famous" duckling had hatched, but life sometimes happens and I discovered one morning, when candling the egg, that the duckling had passed away in its shell.
Saddened, but not defeated, I had just happened to put another duck egg into an incubator about a week before finding out about the fate of the previous duckling and discovered yet another little duck starting to develop! Life has a funny way of giving and taking and as we all know - it is not in our hands but rather in the hands of our Creator who survives and who doesn't.
Following this lesson - I've also discovered that incubating ducks is significantly different than incubating chickens. The humidity has to be higher (makes sense since they practically live on the water), the incubation time longer (a full week longer) and ducklings, apparently, have more difficulty getting out of the shell. Great. Just what a nervous Mutha Clucka needs - something else to stress over.
When a hatching is going on - I'm checking on the incubator no fewer than every half hour or so when I'm home. If a "pip" begins on a shell (meaning a small crack in the eggshell which allows the chick to start making its way out), an internal countdown starts for me. If 24 hours go by and no further movement is detected or progress, I'm itching to step in and help.
Those out there who've raised poultry know that the last thing you should do is help a chick out of its shell. There are delicate blood vessels in the lining of the egg that slowly cease their usefulness as the chick is working to escape its oval home and if you happen to nick one in trying to help - sadly the chick may not make it. The hatching process ensures that the chick is fit to live in this new world that awaits it. It's hard for us humans to understand that sometimes - and especially for me who lives just about every day with these creatures.
I will be reminding myself to not step in to help in the next few weeks or so when this second duckling, hopefully, begins to make its way into the outside world. I'm hopeful that everything goes as it should and there will be a new face on the farm in the coming days.
The next few weeks will see a lot of hatching around the farm and if you'd like to stay up on all of it - be sure to visit the farm's Facebook page at Purple Shamrock Farm. We'd love to have you join us in our journey!

Working Tans (or Purples in My Case)

It's well into winter in my book and it's cold. Thankfully we haven't had massive amounts of snow or ice (at least, not so far) but we have definitely experienced some bitter cold days.
I'm very thankful that the heaters in the poultry waterers are doing their jobs faithfully to keep the animals' water from freezing and my coveralls and farm jacket (though not fit for wear in public because they're pretty filthy and smelly) are doing their job of keeping me nice and toasty when running from coop to coop.
I give a laugh at the thought that I can't imagine doing half of what I do in the winter without these "working tans", as I recently heard another farmer call these articles of clothing. When the wind turns bitingly cold - there is nothing more comforting out on the farm than that pair of canvas coveralls to block it.
I purchased the farm jacket almost 4 years ago when I got my first flock. Not because it was, necessarily, a necessity but because I wanted to look the "part" of a farmer. I had four chickens to care for in a 6' long, 3' wide chicken coop. I thought I was "so cool" to wear my pristine jacket to the farm store to purchase one bag of feed which would last me over a month.
Now that my chicken run is 30' x 30' and there are multiple chicken coops, I have added a pair of coverall bottoms and these two pieces of clothing are absolutely essential to surviving farm chores. I also need to add, they are no longer pristine but rather are covered by the patina that comes with caring for livestock. Enough said about that.
My working tans are not tan, but are (no surprise) purple. My jacket, nor my coveralls, are Carhartts but they're the less expensive brand, Berne. Truthfully, I don't really mind what brand they are as long as they keep the biting winter wind away.
I've discovered how amazing these pieces of clothing are that I can easily put them over thin pajamas for early morning chores on a normal temperature winter day, zip everything up and I feel like I've layered about two layers of warm clothing on. Combine this outfit with a pair of insulated Mucks boots and I can tackle subzero temperatures fairly easily.
On days when the temperature dips into the crazy single digits and below, you'll often find me walking like the kid in the movie A Christmas Story with two layers of pants and four layers of tops, a scarf (or neck gator) wrapped about my head with a knit cap to top it off and two layers of gloves. This ensemble will allow me to be out in the cold for an hour or better to add bedding to coops, fill water, collect eggs, do some general cleaning in the barn, you name it. Oh, and I am able to put my arms down (unlike Randy in the aforementioned movie).
I've learned my lesson, too, with working tans to never put eggs in the pockets of the jackets to carry them to the house. Almost without fail, at least one egg will explode in the pocket when I bend to retrieve something.
There has not been any snow recently nor crazy low temperatures, but we haven't quite entered February and it seems there is always snow during Sectionals. That all being said, I won't have to worry about being cold so long as these working tans (or purples) are within an arm's reach.

An Opportunity for Growth

It is hard to believe that it is the dawn of the fourth season out on the farm. I can always tell if it’s an even or odd year from the fields that surround the homestead. Corn in the field, it’s an odd year, soybeans, it’s an even year. There will be soybeans this year.
Even more difficult to believe is that all of this started with a crazy idea to get a small flock of 4 chickens, watch them grow, learn how to build a coop from scratch (trust me, that thing will never be moved again after its harrowing transport from Columbus to the farm), celebrate the first eggs and then onto the almost Made-for-TV saga about whether I would get to keep the birds or not, the move back to Seymour, making the connection with a local brewer, building a large chicken run and converting a hog barn to a coop, developing dog treats, whew! It has been a whirlwind.
I know that through all of this, I have done some tremendous growing both physically and emotionally. When I first started with the farm, I remember telling people, when asked how things were going on the developing farm, that I needed to shrug the “city” that I had on me.
I’m sure those folks had no idea of what I was speaking about.
I can't really explain it either except that I knew that my arms were not in any shape to cart around 50lb. bags of feed, carry 5 gallon waterers to the coops or truck the 150 feet or so each day to walk from house to barn and back again.
Emotional growth happened with the first animal that died on the farm, a black cat from the city life named "Blackie". His death by speeding car on a country road devastated me as did the first chicken that needed to be put down. I will forever be grateful to one of the neighbors who so gently came over and eased the animal out of its suffering- protecting my inexperienced eyes from viewing something that I would eventually learn to understand is a way of farm life.
These days, 50 lb. bags of feed are still very heavy, but I don't strain under their weight as I did (probably something that helped with the Stein Hoist contest this year - haha).
I don't particularly love carrying the heavy waterers from faucet to the barn, but I can do so without needing to set the contraption down to rest for a moment on its way to thirsty birds.
How about the inevitable death of animals on the farm?
Well, I wouldn't say that I'm "used to it" but I have learned that things are always in balance. To gain life, a lot of times life is taken away. There are some animals that I am definitely more attached to than others. The first chicken hatched on the farm, "Shamrock", the first chicken from the original flock, "Gertrude", the lavender orpington rooster named "Sgt. Stedanko" (yes, named for the beer of the same name at the local brewpub) - all of these will be permitted to live out their lives for as long as they can as well as others who have gained more of a "pet" status than livestock.
One thing that I have definitely learned in this new life as a small farmer is that other farmers, like myself, have a soft spot for these creatures who give us so much. I actually heard a friend say to me sometime back that I needed to find someone really mean to help me process the meat birds that will be coming late spring. I used to feel this way as well and now know that this would be last type of person I would want to have help process.
It takes a compassionate heart, a realistic attitude and a very strong back to survive and honor the animal for its life on earth as well as the finished product.

Hatching Season is Fast Approaching

Each year, around this time, I start getting really anxious for the ground to warm and the days to grow longer even though I know that winter has just begun. I also find myself thumbing through the most recent Farmer's Almanac to discover the days that the little book suggests are the optimal time for planting, and my most favorite - setting eggs for hatching. 

I tried my hand at hatching eggs just three short years ago with a styrofoam incubator that held 42 eggs. That first year I was feeling overly ambitious and took 30 eggs from my (then) small flock of 4 birds. I thought it would be super easy - put the eggs in, put a little water in and voila! New baby chicks!
I also started to panic as I thought about what I would do with a group of 30 young chicks!
There are so many "chicken'ish" sayings in our language and the one that says "Don't count your chickens before they hatch" is actually very true in its most literal sense.
Out of the 30 eggs that I placed in that incubator, none even developed into something. None.
Not feeling defeated, I tried again a few weeks later and this time only put 12 eggs in.
Once again, after the first week had passed - I checked in a darkened room with a small flashlight to "candle" the eggs and found.. the same thing. Nothing developing, nothing.
A month or so went by and I did some more research on how to hatch chicks. I was convinced that it was my chickens' fault and ordered hatching eggs from eBay to put into the incubator.
Yes, that is a thing - ordering hatching eggs from eBay. Check it out.
One last try and I put 6 eggs into the incubator. Not expecting success again, I checked the eggs at the one week mark.
This time, I saw something! People who hatch eggs and candle for development have called it a "spider". Basically it's the veins from the developing chick that start to form within the egg to nourish it with oxygen as it develops.
I was beyond thrilled! I showed the photo of the "spider" to everyone I knew like a human mother displaying a ultrasound whether they wanted to see it or not.
Twenty one days later, 3 of the 6 eggs hatched and I was a doting mother to the little chicks - cleaning their little bottoms and making sure the temperature was just right and they had the proper food, etc.
Now, three short years later, I've had several chicks hatch from my flock. I've moved from using the old styrofoam incubator to a more manageable (and reliable) incubator and I still get so excited at checking after the first week and seeing something growing inside the shell. I don't know that I'll ever get used to it and I kind of hope I don't.
It's the promise of new life and new beginnings. Even as winter is fast upon us.