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.