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Chicken Darshan

It’s been a while since I last posted, so it seems that a bit of a farm update is in order. Our young hens are now laying up to six eggs a day, which is pretty impressive given how little light the days bring, and how cold it has been this January. Our roosters, Cecil and Mr. Jimmy both know how to crow now, after some weeks of strange, garbled sounds as they practiced and perfected their crows.

Cecil, the head rooster, was later than Mr. Jimmy in crowing, and bless his heart, was particularly bad at it. He actually would go into his tractor to practice, where he couldn’t be seen. But he has it down now, and even in the foggy, dark Eugene mornings, he starts crowing at the first hint of the muted, gray light. Otherwise, Cecil and Mr. Jimmy tend to crow whenever they see me, I suppose because I am the bearer of food and treats for the flock.

All this rooster crowing reminds me of my "youth," when construction workers would whistle and cat call whenever I happened by. When that ended, exactly, I can’t recall. But I had my fill of attention from construction workers, and prefer the delight my flock shows whenever they spy me. No one ever mentioned to me that having chickens would make you the rock star of your own backyard, but there you have it. The long-kept secret is out.

We do, however, have a problem brewing: a flock with roosters, limited housing for the chickens, and a bunch of tender-hearted city folks who aspire to farm. My Ian is flat against getting rid of either rooster, which is fine, but this spells baby chicks in our near future. Chicks can easily slip out of the electric fencing, not to mention that we also need to figure out how to feed and house more grown chickens (and roosters!) down the road.

We can certainly try and sell or give away as many chicks as we can, but good luck talking Ian into letting all those adorable, peeping balls of fuzz go. Butchering the roosters would make sense, and even our hens once they are two years old and egg production drops, but as fond as I am of these birds, I can't fathom doing it. So at present, we have a flock of chickens, none of whom we can see ourselves butchering, and likely more chickens on the way.

The wise thing, I still believe, was jumping in and beginning with these fifteen feathered friends, knowing that we had about two good years of egg-laying ahead, and no other plan. If there’s a lesson that keeps presenting itself to me, it is that of starting, of taking the next step, and being willing to learn from the messy process of trying to live in new ways, long before I’ve grown into them.

As one who loves a good story, there’s really no way for me to lose on this adventure, or any other adventure for that matter. My mind, however, loves to stick to the safe and the predictable — the "manila" way, if you will. It is my mind that keeps pointing out that the expenses look endless, and the opportunities for profit slim, on this path. But to follow the manila way at every turn, no matter how reasonable it seems, is a recipe for a boring life. Apparently, that path is not the path for me, and any margin of profit will likely have to come from unexpected twists and turns on this journey.

So a retirement home for chickens this may become, or perhaps a spiritual dude ranch, drawing people from the ends of the earth to receive Darshan (perception of ultimate Truth) from our hen, Sweet Pea. Who knows?

Only one thing is for certain: I will be rich in stories by taking this path, unreasonable as it is. If I am a farmer of anything, I am a farmer of stories. That, and a rock star in my own backyard.

Comments

Replied

Anna - This sounds like a question for my grandmother. Now 96, she has some experience with raising and "weeding" chickens ("butchering" is a harsh word..."weeding" seems more pleasant a term). Of course, Miss Peggie most be kept until she goes to the chicken house in the sky -- it wouldn't be good to "weed" out my namesake. As for Casa de 'Old Hens,' that would only be doable if other chicken lovers paid you to take their retired hens -- otherwise, the hens will be living high on the hog and the farmers will be pecking for worms!

Replied

One of these days, I'd love to come out and receive Darshan from Sweet Pea. Our coop has already become a retirement home for old hens. About 2 eggs a week from a flock of a dozen. It's not sustainable, but they gave a lot of eggs for a lot of years, so it raises questions, at least for me, of pensions. How much goodwill does producing a surfeit of eggs for two years buy?