Fresh free-range eggs are available to buy just a few minutes from my house.
Within 30 minutes, I can find several places to buy tasty large eggs.
So, why do I keep chickens?
Above, eggs from Topknot (far left)
Chibi (top middle)
and Racer (right)
They are all smaller than a regular medium sized egg
When I got sick, got treated, and got well, eggs were the main food of my existence.
When I was sick, they were a food that did not cause pain.
When I was in the hospital, eggs were one food the cafeteria could not screw up.
Once I began the long road to recovery, one egg was all I could eat-and it took 60 minutes to get it down.
That is a long time to ponder one egg.
When I told the doctors I would not be seeing them anymore, one said,
""If you don't return to eating, and if you don't gain strength and weight,
there is still a problem"
I was going to get that egg down every day.
I do love eggs anyway.
And I love the taste of a good egg.
So the eggs went down and I gained back what I lost to the illness.
Thanks to eggs.
And I wondered how to best thank the chickens who were supplying me with...basically the building blocks that reconstructed my life.
(Rooster Louie, watching and Topknot, grazing)
My earliest recollections were of being in a baby buggy surrounded with chicks.
When my grandma would count the chicks and clean their box, she put them in with me.
I was probably a year old. Do I really remember this or is it a fake memory?
I don't know.
I remember fuzzy, peeping chicks all around me.
(we will not reflect on the inevitable poop)
My grandma raised bantam chickens, which are miniature chickens, perhaps half the size of the usual suspects.
I knew the rudimentary work involved with chickens.
I had always loved chickens.
How hard could it be?
And it was a way to give back to the chicken community for all they had given me.
(The roosters never rest-always guarding. Chibi is the little yellow hen)
Even typing "chicken community" is funny. But you know what I mean.
After our neighbors' disasters with poultry and raccoons, we knew the simple solution of a pen in a fenced yard would not work.
Our chickens live in a house with a small pen, inside our garage.
In good weather they are outside most of the day.
When it is 10 degrees F outside, they are let loose to run around the garage for an hour, while I clean and put in fresh food and water.
This is my time with them, and I handle every one, every day.
It's not as much cuddly-wuddly as it is preventative maitenance.
Since these birds live in such close contact with us, I need to know if any one is ill-birds and humans share disease.
And since birds are flock animals, they will NEVER reveal if they are ill
(for fear someone else will take over and kill them)
I won't deny that I hug and pet them. I sing to them, as well. Birds communicate and recognize by sound.
(They hate "Old MacDonald"-my fake rooster crows disconcert them)
Chibi had a run-in with egg binding (the egg gets stuck inside the hen). She is a tiny thing and it was a harrowing experience for both of us.
So I check each hen every day-I pat their undersides. If I feel a lump, it's an egg.
(Chibi and her best friend, Topknot)
So far, so good-the eggs get passed without too much trauma.
Chibi HATES being checked. Racer screams, Topknot clucks, but Chibi flies into my face, cursing me in poultry, bringing every other chicken to fret and scold me.
Yesterday Chibi was alone-everyone else was off watching the chicks play.
I gently went for her, and she lunged for me, yelling.
I had her down but I could not get a hand around her.
Topknot rushed over, evaluated the situation quickly and for the first time in her life, attacked.
Topknot, bless her heart, is one hot mess of hen.
She can barely see for the fuzz covering her face and eyes.
But she got in a peck to my wrist and a squawk.
I was so proud I let go of Chibi and picked up Topknot, giving her a cuddle for her ferocity.
In the midst of the cold, the mess of newspapers, poop, and dirty food dishes, the cleaner, the paper towels and the dust-there was total communication.
I am not doing a good job of explaining why I keep chickens.
Within 30 minutes, I can find several places to buy tasty large eggs.
So, why do I keep chickens?
Above, eggs from Topknot (far left)
Chibi (top middle)
and Racer (right)
They are all smaller than a regular medium sized egg
When I got sick, got treated, and got well, eggs were the main food of my existence.
When I was sick, they were a food that did not cause pain.
When I was in the hospital, eggs were one food the cafeteria could not screw up.
Once I began the long road to recovery, one egg was all I could eat-and it took 60 minutes to get it down.
That is a long time to ponder one egg.
When I told the doctors I would not be seeing them anymore, one said,
""If you don't return to eating, and if you don't gain strength and weight,
there is still a problem"
I was going to get that egg down every day.
I do love eggs anyway.
And I love the taste of a good egg.
So the eggs went down and I gained back what I lost to the illness.
Thanks to eggs.
And I wondered how to best thank the chickens who were supplying me with...basically the building blocks that reconstructed my life.
(Rooster Louie, watching and Topknot, grazing)
My earliest recollections were of being in a baby buggy surrounded with chicks.
When my grandma would count the chicks and clean their box, she put them in with me.
I was probably a year old. Do I really remember this or is it a fake memory?
I don't know.
I remember fuzzy, peeping chicks all around me.
(we will not reflect on the inevitable poop)
My grandma raised bantam chickens, which are miniature chickens, perhaps half the size of the usual suspects.
I knew the rudimentary work involved with chickens.
I had always loved chickens.
How hard could it be?
And it was a way to give back to the chicken community for all they had given me.
(The roosters never rest-always guarding. Chibi is the little yellow hen)
Even typing "chicken community" is funny. But you know what I mean.
After our neighbors' disasters with poultry and raccoons, we knew the simple solution of a pen in a fenced yard would not work.
Our chickens live in a house with a small pen, inside our garage.
In good weather they are outside most of the day.
When it is 10 degrees F outside, they are let loose to run around the garage for an hour, while I clean and put in fresh food and water.
This is my time with them, and I handle every one, every day.
It's not as much cuddly-wuddly as it is preventative maitenance.
Since these birds live in such close contact with us, I need to know if any one is ill-birds and humans share disease.
And since birds are flock animals, they will NEVER reveal if they are ill
(for fear someone else will take over and kill them)
I won't deny that I hug and pet them. I sing to them, as well. Birds communicate and recognize by sound.
(They hate "Old MacDonald"-my fake rooster crows disconcert them)
Chibi had a run-in with egg binding (the egg gets stuck inside the hen). She is a tiny thing and it was a harrowing experience for both of us.
So I check each hen every day-I pat their undersides. If I feel a lump, it's an egg.
(Chibi and her best friend, Topknot)
So far, so good-the eggs get passed without too much trauma.
Chibi HATES being checked. Racer screams, Topknot clucks, but Chibi flies into my face, cursing me in poultry, bringing every other chicken to fret and scold me.
Yesterday Chibi was alone-everyone else was off watching the chicks play.
I gently went for her, and she lunged for me, yelling.
I had her down but I could not get a hand around her.
Topknot rushed over, evaluated the situation quickly and for the first time in her life, attacked.
Topknot, bless her heart, is one hot mess of hen.
She can barely see for the fuzz covering her face and eyes.
But she got in a peck to my wrist and a squawk.
I was so proud I let go of Chibi and picked up Topknot, giving her a cuddle for her ferocity.
In the midst of the cold, the mess of newspapers, poop, and dirty food dishes, the cleaner, the paper towels and the dust-there was total communication.
I am not doing a good job of explaining why I keep chickens.
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