Thursday, May 14, 2009

La Casa de Los Pollos

I've had a lot of different questions about our birds; why we got them, how we built the coop, what they eat, do they regularly attack small children, etc. so I've decided to blog about it. Fasten your seat belts, because it's a really long blog. I am by no means a chicken expert, but I've read quite a bit about them in the last several months.

I was raised in the country. Not on a farm, but in a new subdivision about three miles outside of a town with a population between 3 and 4 thousand. Our town is based on agriculture, with most of the stores offering farm supplies of some kind or another. We are very proud of our ONE stoplight.

So, while we didn't farm or ranch, I grew up in an agricultural setting. In addition, my grandparents lived on a farm. They had a huge garden and Grandma raised chickens for the eggs and the meat. I have vivid childhood memories of watching my grandmother whack a chicken's head off with an axe. They really do run around a little bit if you don't hold on to them. I also looooved to collect the eggs. Everyone else thought that it was a chore but I thought it was just the coolest thing to go out to the coop, look in the nesting boxes and BAM! There was food; all packaged in a neat little shell.

So fast forward twenty-something years. My husband and I moved around a little bit, finally settling down back in my hometown. He was raised in Boise, which is a big city for us, so he wasn't much of a farm boy. But he's really adapted to country life. He's also quite a Mister Fix It.

Last summer we moved from our house in town to a house about six miles out of town. Morgan and I have always wanted to live in the country and have lots of animals. Morgan would love to have horses; to me, horses seem really expensive and lots of work. Oh, and I accidentally killed one a few years ago. I've always wanted chickens, though, because of the memories I have of our visits to Grandma and Grandpa's farm. When we moved here, there was a flock of seven ducks that wandered the place and a few chickens. They had belonged to a hired hand who had left them when he ended his employment with the people who own the property that we live on. Since it's a feedlot, there is a ton of animal food lying around - hay, corn, etc. As a result the abandoned birds were really well fed. There are also plenty of barns and haystacks for them to roost in.

We loved the birds and wanted to build a coop and catch them but first we had to get settled, unpacked, do some fixin' up to the house, etc. Oh, and I was SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT and it was between 95-100 degrees every day. I think I've already told you how I feel about temperatures above 80 degrees. I believe that summer is God's way of punishing me. But I digress....

If you're familiar with farm life, you know that on most farms there is always a bunch of broken old junk lying around: old fence posts, animal pens, wire, various pipes and metal bars, you get the picture. Our friends who own the property gave us the go-ahead to scrounge up whatever we could from all of the junk and we were able to build a chicken coop with minimal out-of-pocket cost. We used an old broken calf pen and put it up on bales of straw to make it taller and also help with insulation at the ground level. I bought a door at DI for $5 that already had the hinges on it. We had to buy a roll of chicken wire and again were able to scrounge some posts to string it on. All of the lumber was salvaged, and we still have a lot left over which we'll use to build a play house. (Yay!) We had to buy hinges and a latch for the gate and latches for the doors to the coop. Our total out-of-pocket-cost was around $75, with about $50 of that being for the chicken wire. Totally, frugally awesome.

As you already know, we kept the birdies in the laundry room until we could get the coop built. Since the abandoned birds had survived for a few years without any help from humans, I knew that our birds wouldn't need much. One thing I remember from all of my research (side note: since I had all winter to think about getting chickens, I did a lot of reading on them, both on-line and in books. That's where most of my chicken knowledge comes from.) is that chickens are really flexible and resilient when it comes to their homes. One person used an old pick up shell for their coop, another used the cab of a semi truck. I wanted them to have a shelter to keep them out of the weather and to keep them safe from coyotes, cats, dogs and the occasional sasquatch. All of the ducks that were here when we moved in died during the fall and winter. We suspect that coyotes got them.

So, to sum up, we built the coop, fenced in a run for them and my oldest son caught the two rogue chickens that had been wandering the place. They are old enough to be laying eggs so we are keeping them in the coop and collecting the eggs. As soon as all of the birds realize that the coop is home, we will let them out during the day to forage and scrounge. Chickens are excellent at keeping the insect population down. In addition, allowing them to free-range a bit gives their eggs a richer flavor. If you have never had fresh eggs that didn't come from a mass-produced egg farm you are missing out!

I don't know if we will eat the chickens when they become too old to lay eggs. I am a real softie when it comes to animals and I don't think that I could eat one of my pets. However, we don't want any roosters. They can be kind of rough on the hens when they are feeling romantic. It also gives me the heeby jeebies to think about eating a fertilized egg. I learned just last year that chickens will lay eggs even if there are no roosters around. You only need a rooster if you want babies, which we don't, at least not right now. So what that boils down to is if any of the birds end up being roosters, it's off with their heads. We tried to get all females but it's hard to tell when they're tiny.

We got our chickens when they were one or two days old and held them a lot so they are very used to us. Even with the older rogue chickens that we've brought in there have been no attacks. They're actually pretty sweet. When I open the gate to their yard they all run to me. I'm sure that if they could speak they'd all be yelling "FOOD!" but I like to pretend that they're excited to see me because they enjoy my wit and personality. I never fail to crack myself up when I ask them "What up, home chicken?" If you Google "raising chickens" there is a plethora (A plethora, Jefe? Si, a plethora.) of information about them. Apparently they make excellent pets, especially for children. You can even mail-order them from a place called Murray McMurray Hatchery and you will receive day-old chicks in the mail. I think that would be totally awesome, but we went with the old farm and ranch store since it was much more fun for the family to be able to pick them out.

As to what the chickens eat, we bought chick starter (fancy name for baby chicken food) when we bought the chicks. They have graduated to eating some of the ground corn that our friends get for the cattle. They said that since they buy it by the ton to feed hundreds of cattle, feeding my ten birds wouldn't make a dent in their supply so I'm welcome to a bucket of ground corn whenever I like. It looks like coarse corn meal. Also, I used to work at a seed cleaning place where they take the harvested wheat and clean out all of the chaff and abnormal kernels of wheat. Then they sell that, which is called the screenings, as pig or chicken food. It's a good deal for them because otherwise it's just garbage and it's a good deal for us because we can get 100 pounds for about $5. I also learned from my grandma that chickens will eat just about any table scraps, which also enhances their egg flavor and saves you money on chicken feed. You can even feed them chicken meat, just not raw chicken meat. If you feed them raw chicken meat it will encourage them to become cannibals. Seriously. It's the same with eggs. You can feed them eggs, but they have to be cooked or they will develop a taste for them and break open their own eggs to eat. They also won't eat root vegetables, like carrots or potatoes.

One more weird chicken fact: The color of their ear lobes indicates what color of egg they will lay: white ear lobes = white eggs, red ear lobes = brown eggs. A lot of people think that brown eggs are better for you - this isn't true. All eggs are the same inside. There are breeds of chickens, the Ameraucana and Araucana breeds, commonly know as the Easter Egg chicken, that will lay eggs that are blue, green, pink or lavender. Cool, huh?

By now you probably know all that you ever wanted to know about chickens and probably a whole lot more. They help to keep me busy and it's fun to get to know their different personalities.

Here are some pictures of the finished product in all its redneck glory.



Cozy straw and cedar bedding with a heating lamp help keep them warm. As soon as the nights warm up we'll take out the lamp. The ladder is for roosting. Everything I've read says that providing a place for roosting is very important. Apparently my chickens haven't read the books.



View from the door of the inhabitants checking things out.



The front of the coop. There's my $5 DI door! I think we'll change the little door. I wanted the chickens to be able to get in and out on their own, but I'm not sure if the little bantams will be strong enough to push open the door. Also, I'm a little concerned that a swinging door that heavy could cause accidental decapitation.



I'm particularly proud of the gate, as I designed and built it mostly by myself. Yes, I am awesome and no, there is no charge for awesomeness.



A view of the whole shebang. Please disregard the piles of junk still lying in the yard. This picture was taken pre-cleanup. I'm planning on painting the coop sometime this summer. We have a little bit of work left to do, insulating and water-proofing and such but it's mostly done. As soon as the little chickens start laying, we'll need to build a few nesting boxes but I don't expect them to start until August or September. I'm getting my informatin on egg-laying-age from the same books that stressed the importance of roosting, though, so if my chickens didn't read about roosting they may not know when to start laying eggs, either.

I guess I'd better plan to teach my chickens how to read.

The Family That Plays Together...


...argues about whose turn it is to be Player One.

But sometimes they get along, and that's nice.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

In Which I Devote an Entire URL to My Son

My two-year-old son, Adam, does something every day that makes me laugh, cringe or shake my head in disbelief. Adam is my third child, so you would think that I would be prepared for this terrible-two stage that we find ourselves in. Either time has been kind and erased the vividness of the memories of my two eldest children's naughtiness, or Adam is far and above the naughtier of the three. Morgan and I often discuss Adam. Lots of times, the discussion sounds like this:

"That kid...."

"*face palm*"

Morgan said that I should start writing down the stuff that Adam does. I liked the idea but didn't want to include more Adam stuff here on this blog because it's already pretty Adam-saturated. And so, I'd like to introduce......

http://diaryofatwoyearold.blogspot.com/

Yes. Another blog. Written by me. Because two wasn't enough.

I hope you enjoy it!

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Busy Busy Busy Day!

Things accomplished by me and my family today, in no particular order:

  • Serviced lawn mower.
  • Mowed lawn.
  • Weed eated (weed ate? weed eatered?) Umm, it's trimmed.
  • Hauled off gigantic truckloads of garbage and junk.
  • Caught (and released) a salamander in the front yard.
  • Leveled out ground in preparation for building fire pit.
  • Broke water line while leveling the ground.
  • Fixed the water line.
  • Cleaned up one corner of the garage and moved in the lawn tools.
  • Trimmed all the little teeny obnoxious tree branches that try to poke my eyes out when I mow.
  • Put away all the scrap lumber from building the chicken coop.
  • Discussed building a play house out of the scrap. Yay!
  • Got a bunch of river rock to use in building the fire pit.
  • Swept patio and sidewalk.
  • Learned how to drive the skid loader - suh-weeeet!
  • Got the lawn mower stuck.
  • Felt like a moron for getting the lawn mower stuck.
  • Ate breakfast.
  • Forgot to eat all other meals.
  • Hoped children fed themselves.
  • Got a blister on my big toe from my new gardening clogs.
  • Got a gash on my cheek from weed trimmer shrapnel.
  • Lost the scrench for the chainsaw.
  • Found the scrench hours later in Morgan's back pocket.
  • Took a looooong bath in the jetted tub.
  • Completely forgot about Adam's birthday party tomorrow. Crap!
Ooohhh, everything hurts so much, but our yard looks awesome! I'm excited for the firepit; that's something about our old house that I miss a lot.

I'm off to find some ibuprofen and my bed. I hope that I can move in the morning. I'm afraid that once I quit moving my muscles will fuse in that position.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

The Terrible Twos and a Really Cute Baby

Adam will turn two years old this Friday, and it seems as if someone whispered in his ear, "Hey! You're two! Two-year-old children are supposed to be full of mischief and very naughty."

Duly noted.

In the past several days, Adam has eaten hydro cortisone cream, smeared hydro cortisone cream in his hair and the carpet, unrolled half of a roll of toilet paper, eaten the tip of a highlighting marker, given several of our chickens near-death experiences, emptied the towel cabinet of all its contents, and completely "reorganized" my sewing room several times. This is just the short list of all he's accomplished. He's always been a bundle of coiled energy, just waiting for physical coordination and thought processes to cooperate. Apparently the thoughts and physical abilities are finally coming into focus. I'm sure that this is just the beginning and I'd better brace myself for the coming years.

It's actually fun and amusing to watch him learn and grow and figure things out. It's just no fun rewinding multiple spools of ribbon, being bashed with a light saber, trying to protect the baby, dog and chickens from certain death, and cleaning various substances from various surfaces.

Something else that is new is speech. All of my children have been beeblers. They all chattered away in their own language and added real words as they learned them. Eventually, the real words outnumbered the baby speech and the child was speaking. Some of the baby words have stuck in our family's collective vocabulary, which is fun.

According to our pediatrician, Adam is pretty average for his speech capabilities, if not just a teensy bit behind. But we're not worried. He's picking up new words every day, which is fun, unless it's a swear word accidentally uttered in front of him. Then it's funny. Bad, but still funny. I guess that to strangers Adam looks old enough to speak and understand what is being said to him. It's not uncommon for complete strangers to try to strike up a conversation with Adam. He opens the door to that himself, because as we shop he says "hi" to everyone he sees. Then people feel obliged to stop and ask him how he is doing, how old he is, what is his name, etc. Sometimes Adam will play the shy card, ducking his head and remaining silent. Other times, he answers with a full volley of Adam-speak. This leads the other person to look to me for an interpretation. My answer is always the same: "He doesn't speak English yet." It's true.

I love this video. He had no idea that I was watching him, so he's just reading his book to himself. There are a few real words thrown in among the babble, I'm sure he says "tractor" once or twice, but the rest is uniquely Adam.




Emily is fascinated by Adam's speech. I guess her kids both passed over the gibberish stage in favor of speaking real words. Did your babies jabber?


I would be remiss if I didn't share another new development in our house: real Jack laughter! Morgan was changing Jack's diaper when he (Morgan) sneezed and Jack thought that it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Morgan kept "sneezing" and Jack kept laughing. It's awesome, if you can hear it over Noel and Adam shrieking in the background.


Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Finally, a Haircut!

Last summer Michael began resisting hair cuts. He had always had his hair cut fairly short before. I did the best that I could with the clippers and he was happy with it. Then he decided that long hair was cool and short hair was lame.

What's a mom to do? I am rather old-fashioned when it comes to hair on the opposite sex; it should be short and neat. I forced him to cut his hair a few times. We compromised by going to a hairdresser and having her cut it at a length that we could both live with.

Then Morgan stepped in. Morgan was raised a lot more liberally than I was. He told me that his mom made him keep his hair short and when he was a teenager, he rebelled by growing it long (among other things.) Morgan's philosophy was that if we give Mike control over his hair now, maybe he won't feel so inclined to rebel as much as a teenager. "After all," Morgan argued, "it's only hair."

I acquiesced, with the stipulation that if the hair was to be long, it had to be clean. So this is how Mike has looked for the better part of the last year:



It drove my mother NUTS! Every time she saw him, she would make a comment about his hair, telling him how much more handsome he would be if his hair was short. He quietly accepted her criticism until one day, when he told me that he wished she wouldn't say anything about his hair. I told her that she needed to stop and she did, but I could tell that it was painfully difficult for her to hold her tongue.

I'll be honest: at first I too tried to convince him to cut it, but he always insisted on keeping it long.

Then one day last week, out of the blue, he told me he wanted his hair cut. I tried to disguise my glee. Here is the final product:



I forgot that he had eyebrows! I also forgot how much he looks like my dad.

So, the big question: I knew when I married Morgan that we would have differences in how our children were raised, specifically because my family is/was a lot more conservative than his family. I didn't, however, realize how difficult it would be to go along with a choice that my spouse would make when it went against my feelings, and it was only hair!

How would you have handled it?

Proof That I Am Not the Craziest Woman Ever

It's no big secret that I deal with "issues" from time to time, as I posted a blog about battling depression some time ago. Not to go into extraordinary detail here, but I've been going through a doozy the last month or so. A big doozy. I'm seeing a counselor in addition to a psychiatrist, just to make sure all of my bases are covered. The counselor is there for me to talk to and help me figure stuff out and the psychiatrist is there to figure out what sort of drugs I need to be on in order to function as a human being again.

I'm posting this blog strictly to relate a funny thing that happened to me today, which I'll get to in a minute, but since this can of worms is opened I'd like to take note of something.

A LOT of people are feeling crazy right now. Waaay more than usual. My counselor told me that the place she works has had to hire more counselors and has asked everyone to increase their case load and they still aren't keeping up. I have friends and family who have confided to me that they are "feeling a little crazy" themselves. It makes me wonder: what is going on? Is there some cosmic evil force at work, trying to push us all over the edge? Is it the state of the world, the economy, or the fact that Wendy's no longer serves fry sauce? I don't know why, but I think it's strange and interesting. Also a little inconvenient for me because I have really needed steady reliable people to lean on and it seems as if stable people are in short supply.

Anyway, back the original reason for the post; I had an appointment with my psychiatrist today. Today was only the second time I've seen her so she doesn't know me all that well yet. As I sat on the couch in her office, we exchanged pleasantries, she consulted the file in front of her and said, "So, the last time we spoke you told me that you see and talk to dead people. Is that still occurring?"

.....

WHAT?

I wish I could have seen the look on my face. I had no idea what she was talking about. She apologized, again consulted the file and then the computer and said that she must have misunderstood. We proceeded to discuss how I had been doing. During the whole discussion, however, I am wondering why on earth she thinks that I think that I see dead people. Did I really say that last time? I don't remember saying that. Maybe I'm way more screwed up than I thought! Why would I say that? And on and on. Finally, as we finished, I just had to ask. I didn't want her to think that I thought she was lying or that I was totally loony (ironic, as I was the patient and she the psychiatrist) but I wanted to know: Did I really say that?

Apparently, she had confused my file with that of another patient who has a name very similar to mine.

I actually walked out of the office giggling to myself. It made my day. Even though some days I feel like I am losing my mind, there is someone out there who is a whole lot more messed up than me!