Baby chicks have arrived (again)! Our 36 Cornish Roasters arrived early this morning along with F3’s order. We got the call at 5:11am and drug ourselves to the post office. We ordered enough to score a “double-wide” box this time! As usual they tumbled out of their shipping box and went right to work eating and drinking like little fiends.
I also realized I had forgotten to mention that this past weekend we went to a bakery that was selling off food grade barrels (from storing artificial sweetener) for rain water catchement. It was a steal compared to the $80 or so most folks charge for olive barrels that have been turned in to rain water catchement so we stocked up and got a couple for F3 as well.
We are excited to work on this project since it will (hopefully) alleviate the need for hauling quite as much water up and down the hill, especially now that the pink flock is up there by the goats. The goal is to catch the water in large enough quantities and then truck it up the hill to keep us going for as long as possible. We are only starting with a few while we work out the system. I’m hoping to be able to build a gutter system on the goat barn so we can collect water up there as well.
Seed starting is under way in our kitchen. In an effort to spare some counter space I got out my trusty folding craft table and have it strategically placed under the skylights. I had quite good luck starting seeds under the skylights instead of supplemental lights last year so I’m trying it again, although I’m starting earlier this year. We’ll see how it goes. I’m using a warming mat on and off since we heat with the wood stove meaning the house temperatures aren’t particularly consistent. I’m using the GrowVeg.com planting time lines which has been really handy. I have both the backyard garden and the raised beds all laid out. It definitely appeals to the planner in me.
Right now I have some greens, leeks, and onions starting. The greens, arugula and mustard, are up and the leeks/onions are just starting to emerge. Next up I need to start: eggplant, cabbage, lettuces, and more greens. I need to dig out more seed starting trays though. They are all still buried in the greenhouse and garage.
Our next flock of chickens is due some time this week. We moved “Pat” the rooster up behind the goat barn with the rest of “flock #2″, otherwise known as the pink flock now, so we could clean and sanitize the brooder box. After repeatedly looking for appropriate leg bands for the chickens I gave up and went the zip tie route. It’s cheaper and accessible. As I understand it the challenge is that they can tighten further and cause damage so we’ll keep an eye on them. So “flock #2″ was given the hot pink zip ties. I plan to give our spring break laying flock the yellow zip ties.
“Pat” got his own special blue marker so we can keep an eye on his integration. He really didn’t know what to make of the situation having spent his entire 3 months of life in the brooder box. First he challenged every hen that approached him (and they came right back at him) which resulted in a small cut above his right eye and several mouth’s full of feathers. He seemed to settle down a little when he realized they weren’t out to get him in the first place. We took care of some other chores when an unexpected downpour occurred. We ran up the hill, because we’d left their feeder out of the shelter, to find “Pat” standing around indignantly in the rain. Bengt ushered him in to the roosting range house in the hopes that he’d pick up on the routine the hens had long since figured out.
The crazy downpour definitely left everyone out of sorts. Bengt was shoveling the brooder box contents in to the compost pile and I had come inside and taken off my filthy socks. When I heard the rain start, it was an instant WOOSH and I went running around the house all out of sorts trying to find clean, dry socks and an appropriate coat so I could run outside to help. Later that night, Bengt went to close the chicken coop by the house for the night and only found 10 chickens (12 live in that house). I had trouble believing a predator had made off with TWO hens, particularly when we were around doing chores all day. He made a quick round around the house and discovered two hens snuggled up against our front door (on the porch). It took some orchestration between the two of us to convince (or carry in one’s case) the two nervous, nearly blind hens to walk to the back of the house to the coop in the dark and rain. They probably would have been okay on the front porch, but I can’t imagine they’d have liked it any and I certainly don’t want to encourage it.
So the brooder box is all clean and we have a new bale of shavings standing by. Sometime this week we will get the 5:30am wake up call from the post office informing us our chickens are ready to be picked up. These will be the snowy white meat birds, and are due to be grown enough to move out of the brooder box by 4 weeks, just in time for “flock #3″ or the “yellow flock” to arrive, the last of our laying birds for this year. I’m really not looking forward to two more rounds of “failure to thrive” but what can you do really.
Our “new flock” which maybe I should just start referring to as “flock #2” is now 11 weeks old. It’s crazy to realize they are about 3 months. They are due to start laying at about 6 months old. We came through everything with 21 hens and 1 rooster. Yes, another rooster.
A few weeks ago we moved them out of the brooder box and in to the fenced garden as a holding spot until we could go pull some temporary fencing for them up behind the goat barn (today’s chore). One of the last chickens I picked up to carry from the brooder to the backyard screamed something awful when I had a hold of her. It was a bit strange, but not entirely unusual. Just as I released her over the fence with the other’s I saw a gaping wound at the base of her tail feathers. I was mortified as I realized I had blood on my hands and jacket sleeve. No wonder she was screaming, I had been holding her such that I was probably touching the wound. I started yelling for Bengt in a panic (don’t all these stories involve me yelling to Bengt in a panic?) and he came around with the last two chickens. I pointed out the one with the wound and we watched as another hen walked right up and starting pecking at the bloody area. The one with the wound just went in to a submissive pose and allowed it. Chickens are so mean! Bengt went in to the garden to retrieve her and we immediately went in to chicken hospital mode. Once he had her I took a look at the wound and it was about the size of a half dollar and there was no skin. You could clearly see the muscle structure entirely exposed. It was terrifying. We put her back in to the brooder box and raced off to the feed store to look for antibiotics and get her clean shavings. The best I could come up with to do was to give her a clean environment, boost her natural healing process, and hope. So we did exactly that. We couldn’t find an appropriate antibiotic so we gave her a dose of tetracycline before realizing that it wasn’t going to really help (it’s for respiratory infections) and quit. We tried to find iodine tincture to rinse the wound, but it’s nearly impossible to purchase these days since it can be used for nefarious purposes and eventually I gave up in utter frustration. As the days went by she appeared to be healing so we just kept her isolated and let her body do its own thing.
A week or so later some friends and I were outside and heard a strangled crowing sound. I thought it was Boots, our current rooster, on the other side of the house but it seemed like it was coming from the garage. I was certain that the chicken in the brooder box was a hen (I don’t know why) so I dismissed it. The next weekend we were stacking wood and filling the wood bin and it started up again. This time it was clearly coming from the garage. Sure enough I caught “her” in the act. Darn it! I’ve never known a rooster to crow so early, but granted my experience is somewhat limited. He was only about 2 months old at the most. I don’t need another rooster! Add to that, that it appears to be an Americana rooster. We have a somewhat love/hate relationship with the Americana/Araucana chickens. They lay beautiful eggs and the variety of plumage makes them interesting to look at but they are a light breed so even the rooster is hardly worth slaughtering and we haven’t found them to be particularly hardier or, uhm, strong on predator evasion? We often joke about the saying ‘you only have to run faster than the slowest’… they are clearly often the slowest.
So the new rooster is still in the garage and likes to crow at us in the evenings when we come and go doing chores. We are trying to decide on a name for the rooster. So far we’ve toyed with “Pat” on account of the ambiguous identity. We closely examined his wound a few nights ago and it is all covered with skin and emerging feathers except a small spot about the size of pencil eraser that still has a scab on it. It’s going on 4 weeks now I believe. We plan on keeping keep isolated until the next flock of baby chicks arrives (the meat birds) and are hoping we can reintegrate him with his flock after that. We certainly don’t “need” another rooster but hopefully he’ll help protect them… that is if they don’t try to kill him again.
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