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.

Trying to Take Some Time Off? Don't be a Farmer!

This time of year it seems everyone is making travel plans. Gotta get the plane tickets to visit your great Aunt Gertie, gas up and check the family vehicle to make sure it can make the 6 hour trip to visit the in-laws, perhaps a tropical getaway with a lighted palm tree to substitute for the traditional conifer of the Midwest and a quiet holiday. The list goes on.
I listen with understanding as people reach out to various pet sitters in the community, making sure that their precious pupper or their precocious feline is given a comfortable place to "vacation" while they are away. Sometimes that means a posh boarding kennel with heated floors, TV's with cable, yummy treats and other times it means having a "stay-cation" where the dog(s) and/or cat(s) remain in the owners' home. So many different options if you have one or more of the more common "inside" pets.
All of that changes if you have livestock.
Before my "farming days" I would call a friend, ask them to watch the two dogs and two cats I had and it was a mutual understanding, "I watch yours, you watch mine" with no money exchanged between us and minimal amount of work on either of our parts.
Now, it's more like bargaining. The conversation usually goes like this, "Hey, hope you're well - need to ask if you can watch the three dogs and two cats...*pause here*… and the 40 standard size chickens and guineas, 5 tiny breed chickens and, uh, oh yeah, two ducks for a short weekend." Awkward silence and then a look of relief from the other party as I add, "oh, and I'll pay you."
I am extremely blessed that I have two young persons that are in 4H that live nearby. They are super responsible and their folks are there to make sure that every detail is taken care of. They are of "farming cloth" which, in my mind means that we all help one another. I'm also very grateful that it doesn't cost me a small fortune to ask for their help.
That being said, it doesn't take care of the guilt that I feel while I'm gone that I know that water will have to be carried the 150 feet or so from the house down to the barn (I still am working on getting water down there), birds will have to be let out in the morning and shut in at night, eggs will need to be collected, feed will need to be filled, etc. All of this plus the two meals that the dogs and cats will need to be fed each day.
The amount of time that I spend away from the farm is minimal in a year - I believe this year I will be away 4 nights total. This time away is far greater than what other farmers get to experience - too many things can go wrong when one is off the farm. The "vacation" that farmers experience is in the time between when the crops have been harvested (though planning continues), animals have been sent to market (though there is clean up and checking fences, etc. for the next group), or the equipment has been checked over, maintained and cleaned for its next use.
Like I said, I am blessed that I have these two young people to watch my tiny farm while I take some time away but I know that soon they will go on to other things - college, family, etc. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy the few days that I get to see a change of scenery and still rejoice that the best part of being out on the farm is watching things grow, and the sunrises and sunsets. Oftentimes those are better than any view you would see on a tropical island (cheaper too!).

Just a Little Patience

It takes patience to be a chicken farmer. Patience for the little fluff balls to grow up to laying age (around 16 weeks old or so), patience for that first egg (it's supposed to be around 16 weeks but can go anywhere from 14 to 20 weeks)– that is IF you’ve gotten a hen from your local chicken supplier and not accidentally a rooster, and patience in waiting every day for that wonderful shelled nugget that is produced by a fluffy bottomed hen.

The Original 2015 Flock; (from left going clockwise), 

Henrietta, Mildred, Gertrude and Eleanor

I remember clearly that first egg that I received from my first group of birds. All of these birds had middle names of my grandmothers and were named; Henrietta, Mildred, Eleanor, and Gertrude. It was Henrietta who laid the first egg. She was an ameraucana breed hen (white in feather color)
and laid the prettiest blue/green egg and that was what I found that late summer day in 2015. Granted, this egg was crushed when I found it but I was still so excited that all of the waiting had paid off.

First Egg from The Flock

It would be weeks for the rest of the group to join Henrietta’s production and soon I had 4 eggs waiting for me to gather at the end of each day. This was wonderful! I could sell surplus eggs and pay for the feed that these birds gobbled up so eagerly.
This was a new enterprise, until the days turned shorter and the weather turned colder. Suddenly, I was lucky to find one egg in the nest box let alone the original four. I was completely stunned! What had happened? Why weren’t they laying eggs? Grocery stores always have eggs – why couldn’t I?

A few clicks to Google and I found out my answer quickly enough. Birds cease laying in the darker months because that’s not the time to raise young (what an egg is ultimately for). Nature has its way of making sure that everything is given the best chance at survival and hatching a young chick when the days are short would mean that the temperature would be less than cordial to a tiny peeping egg with feet.

Fast forward to today and I always know the inevitable drop off in lay is going to happen each summer when the egg boxes are full of all sorts of colors of eggs (and yes, they all taste the same as a regular egg). I’m still always a bit shocked though when that trip to the barn suddenly yields four eggs instead of 22+.

A Summer Yield of Eggs

I’ve tried to supplement with light, given them yogurt, given them cayenne pepper; any number of tricks I’ve read will increase laying but the girls are adamant for having their winter break and that’s just fine with me. My only frustration being that because the eggs are so good – I don’t always have them to sell to folks.

It won’t be long though before the days become longer and I walk again from the barn with a full egg basket. I eagerly wait for those days so that when someone asks to purchase, I have the right number of eggs just steps away from the house. I just have to have patience until then.

We Don't Mind a Trashy Relationship with The Seymour Brewing Company

You could say that our relationship with The SeymourBrewing Company is a little “on the trashy side”, to quote a line from Confederate Railroad’s song, “Trashy Women”.

Oh no, we don’t mind at all! In fact, we like to get as much trash as we can from this sophisticated brewpub located in The Small Town of Seymour, Indiana.

Each week, we pick up between 10 to 20 buckets of spent brewers’ mash, cast off pelleted hops bags and dry mash bags. All left in a neat little row each day at the rear of the brewery.

It sounds a bit like a hoarding situation, right? Well, actually – it’s a commitment that Purple Shamrock Farm has had from the very beginning; to recycle as much as possible and keep as much as we can out of the landfill.

The spent brewers’ mash has three actual purposes when we get it.

Depending on the demand and how dry the mash is – some will go into making those super famous, super favored dog treats called I.P.A. Bites (Incredible. Pupper. Appetizers.)^® made by our farm called Purple Shamrock Farm.

A second use is supplemental chicken feed for our 40+ hens that inhabit the farm. It’s amazing how excited these feathered flock mates get when we drive the car up to the side of the chicken run, get out and dump five gallon buckets over the side of the fence where the birds are all too eager to run up and gobble it up. In the winter- steam rises from the mash so it warms them up while feeding them.

The final use for the grain is compost for the 5 acres of the farm. Garden and field get regular donations of spent brewers’ mash to help keep the soil as rich as possible.

The cast off pelleted hops bags go into making zippered pencil/money/whatever-you-want-to-hold bags that still hold the smell of the hops. Talk about a beer lover’s delight that when they reach into the bag for beer money- the money smells like hops!

The dry mash bags- they go into making sturdy, waterproof tote bags that proclaim the love of beer and recycling.

We don’t mind being called trashy if it means keeping more of what we love out of the landfill and back into use. We’re fairly certain that The Seymour Brewing Company likes us that way.