My aging hens are safe and happy at Dryads Rest, in Chehalis, Washington. They have a farmyard, a clean roomy coop, a whole flock of hens and a big handsome rooster named Tiberius. They're sorting out the pecking order. Black and Tiberius had a cockfight, and he's still trying to keep the peace as the hens work it out. Red, who was so terribly torn up by the neighbor's dog, is just fine. Little Inky seems to feel safe.
I have to think about whether or not I want chicks in the spring. For one, I'd have to find a place for the aging hens, and there's only so many non-producing adoptees a farm can take. Then again, they'd still have the ability to produce some chicks and add to the bloodline. We'll see how I feel when I get the January gotta-do's in the yardwork and building line.
For second, Dan says my homemade tofu is an acquired taste - and he's acquired it. And I use a lot of homemade soy-milk. So maybe the whole hen operation will be replaced by a couple bags of soybeans every year.
I have to think about whether or not I want chicks in the spring. For one, I'd have to find a place for the aging hens, and there's only so many non-producing adoptees a farm can take. Then again, they'd still have the ability to produce some chicks and add to the bloodline. We'll see how I feel when I get the January gotta-do's in the yardwork and building line.
For second, Dan says my homemade tofu is an acquired taste - and he's acquired it. And I use a lot of homemade soy-milk. So maybe the whole hen operation will be replaced by a couple bags of soybeans every year.
Though, if I ever end up on a bigger piece of land, I can run a chicken operation, now I've learned about their care and medicating, etc.
In the meantime, the co-op's tourist operation and the locals all want my homemade sea salt, and since I make it for us anyway, I can get the extra cash that way.
4 comments:
Oh, you'll have moar baby chickens anyway. I've heard your a real chick magnet.
Do you know the trick for making a chicken go to sleep?
Hi, SK: GROAN.
So, how? Or is it just rubbing their beak?
My dad taught me this - he was raised on a dairy near Silverton. What you do is you pick up the hen (it was usually a hen), tuck her head under her wing, and then swing her gently back and forth, like she was the plumb on a pendulum. After about three or four minutes, you lay her down on the ground and the silly bird just rolled away then, after about a minute or so she'd come to, get up, shake her head, and wander off to the next item on her chicken agenda,
"The Chicken Agenda." Sounds like the name of a blog.
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