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September 14, 2009 "Kitchen Chicks"
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    Four days have passed without a death. Well, I take it back, one chick arrived as a "chick rug" -- pale yellow with a few black spots. She wasn't meant to live I guess. Some of us aren't. In transit, in the box with air holes on the side, she lay down for a moment, probably not feeling quite right, and never got up. The other chicks, infants all, just didn't realize that they shouldn't step on her. But they did, and her tiny frame was flattened beyond recovery. I buried her under the big oak tree.

    The hatchery packs an extra chick per batch as an instant refund for any rugs. We'll find out later if the replacement chick is a rooster or not. I can't imagine them throwing in an extra hen chick, as nowadays, with the increase of interest in backyard flocks, they can sell every single potential-egg-laying chick, but roosters (sorry gentlemen) are expendable.

    Larry ordered the chicks two weeks ago, but for all 75 to arrive together, at the same age, we had to wait for a new hatching of the pale yellows with a few black spots. People who are officially in the egg business like these chicks, which grow up to be White Leghorns -- all white, with a few black spots. They are the best layers (white eggs with no black spots) of all the chicken breeds.

    And that's what we're after here. No, we are not going into the "egg business."  We are still vegetable growers. But folks want great eggs, and we're sensitive to the desires of our farm stand customers. Usually. The last few years, I've been lax in maintaining our flock size, and thus the numbers have dwindled through "attrition" from 100 to 50, and since we don't "execute" our hens for getting old, we have wound up with half of our 50 hens being over eight years old.  Aunt DropTail, our 15-year-old Americauna hen, will tell you that old hens are not in the mood for laying eggs. They are into dust baths, eating organic grains, foraging around the farmstead for tender greens and worms, going to bed early, and pooping. Thank goodness their last activity is good for our compost pile, as that's how the old hens pay their rent.


    The chicks, ordered during dry and hot weather, arrived last Friday, the day the rain started. At first I placed the little girlies in a cage on the back porch, but thanks to them, the weather changed, so Cousin Claire and I brought them inside to the kitchen table -- the table Larry built out of a post oak tree in Gause.  It's just perfect for this operation and likely better than the kitchen counter where I chop vegetables. Maybe a tad more sanitary.


    In addition to the 25  White Leghorns, we received 25 Production Reds, and 25 Americaunas, with three (originally) extra chicks thrown in. The Reds are great layers too, and the Americaunas lay the blue-green eggs, whenever it pleases them. That's the way pretty girls are sometimes, they say.

    The first night on the table, the chicks were rather restless, not used to this new life, and they peeped a lot. And ate a lot of the organic grain, and drank a lot from the two little waterers. Originally I had placed a large waterer in with them, but they tended to take baths instead of sip daintily. Farmer Alexander, a real egg farmer, advised me to switch to the little waterers, which, keen to wisdom, I immediately did. Oh, some of them still fell in a bit, but they mostly stayed dry. And this is important for infant chicks, as being cold and wet will turn them into chick rugs.

    So I advised Larry that first night, that even though the cage was wrapped up like a big yellow present, complete with a yellow-handled light under which they could huddle for warmth, we still must turn down the air conditioner, so that the chicks would stay warm. We slept warm too, with just a sheet and our mosquito net.

    We had to close the bedroom door however, as the peeping was really outrageous, and with their heat light on all night long, they might stay awake and peep about it. And so would we.

    In the morning, after a night worrying about them being peep-less rugs, I lifted the yellow cover first thing. Larry didn't want to -- said he didn't have the nerve. As the resident human hen, apparently, tracking death is my responsibility.  Happily, they all were fine.


    During the day, the chicks took a lot of naps. And that night, they peeped less, and last night, less. They actually slept. They are now used to the situation. The cage is home, and they are growing.

    As Larry made ready to leave for the other farm this morning, he looked at the chicks. "They'll be too big for that cage very soon."  He's renewing efforts to have their new cage ready before they graduate. But at seven feet long by three feet wide, it won't fit on the kitchen table, so it will be installed in the barn, backing up to hay bales and provided with two heat lamps and room to romp.

    This will be good, as visiting children will be able to view them and, the kitchen is starting to take on an aroma that really belongs outside. The wood floor beneath the operation must be swept five times a day, and the little white poop spots will have to be scrubbed. Oh well, at least we don't have rugs on the floor.

    PS: Late development:  Two ladies came by to talk about farming. We’d viewed the chicks, the rapini, the Romano green beans, the daikon radishes,  and all the positive aspects of the farm, and since it was late in the afternoon, I let all the hens out. They hurried merrily about, digging in the now soft soil, fishing for worms and such, and as we ladies were saying our goodbyes, one hen came around the big oak tree with what looked strangely like...a tiny rug. A formerly pale yellow one with a few black spots, but tinged all over with several days worth of mud.  Chasing the hen didn’t help. She and her prize disappeared. The ladies were very practical-minded about the episode, as, you know, that’s the way it is on a farm. And if they are going to farm, well, might as well get used to things not being as you wish.... Sigh.
     Carol Ann

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