Rampant April Fool's Jokes

I usually fall for every April Fool's joke I see on April 1st of each year.
This year I caught myself a whole bunch of times before being completely gullible, so I was feeling proud of my new found disbelief.
Today I wasn't so astute.
I got right up to Sabrina the hen before I realized she was just sun-bathing, not actually deceased. You can't see in the picture, but she's on a hill in a precarious looking posture. Ick.
Then I found Fuzzy Wuzzy Ewok out in the field, apparently dead from the sudden heat wave. I was listening to his chest for a heart beat before he woke up. He's perfectly fine, just a little tired!
Probably adding to my sensitivity about death in animals today is the fact that old Mr. B was having a hard time with the heat yesterday. A very hard time. The whole reason I went outside was to make sure he was alive and okay because he wasn't where I could see him with the herd.
He was on the other side of the hill and feeling just fine.
Well played, farm animals!

Witness Relocation

The evil possum came around murdering a rooster one night and a hen the next.
He broke into the upper hen house both nights and dragged them out with necks broken.
All of the red hens used to spend the night in said coop, but after the crime wave started, the surviving hens wisely chose to move in with Joe Houndog in his dog house on the front porch.
I was too slow to catch her in the photo, but here is a benefit of the hens' fear of open spaces. Easy egg collection.

Kitchen Chicken

The weather took a turn for the perfect, so we opened the sliding glass door to the deck, the screen of which is torn up by kitties.
I soon heard Katie exclaim, "Get out, Sabrina! You're not an indoor chicken!"

Chicken Run

Laura's egg business had been booming. Sales were fantastic and overhead was low when she had her 16 Golden Comet hens.
Then the neighbors' dog systematically picked off 11 of the newly laying ladies.

Laura had seen that the Red Mule in Phenix had chicks, so she asked if we could make a chicken run.
Yep, we can do that.

Gooseberry thinks they'll taste like chicken.

Chicks

Here are Laura's Golden Comet pullet chicks.
They live in Azkabantam, a little chicken coop which Big Dan built for the yard. It's on skids, so it can be moved with the tractor.
There's a little yard for the hens to run in.
Hopefully having been brought up in captivity will help them to be content not to free range.
When chicks are brought up wild and free by a mother hen, they don't appreciate being penned.
So far all 16 chicks are alive and well.
Five more weeks of heat lamp before they're completely capable of dealing with the cold.

Forgotten Baby Chicks

Laura's chicks came last Thursday morning!
I forgot to blog them, probably because I put them on facebook and considered them publicized.
So here are Laura's 16 laying hens in miniature.
They're Golden Comets, a mix of a New Hampshire Red daddy and a White Rock momma. The Amish folks around here use them as laying hens because they lay beautiful dark brown eggs daily once they get started at around 20 weeks.
They are soft and fuzzy, and so friendly and docile that they fall sound asleep in your hands.

Broody Hen

I had a surprise out at the overgrown fence line this evening. As I made my way toward the secret spot in the scary weeds where the ladies have all been laying their eggs, I saw this mean old hen, very well hidden. "Friend" is her name. We call her an Amish hen because we bought her as a pullet years ago from the Amish family down the road. The family who would entitle my brother's blog, "Big and Strong Suburbanite Dad." Friend and the other Auracana bantam mixes have gone broody consistently through the years, and it looks like more chicks will arrive on Providence Farm in September.

Forget Chicken Tractors. Chicken Bikes!

I went outside and saw these girls biking up the driveway, coming home from having taken their chickens for a ride to the mailbox. The chickens like it! Becky went out and got on her bike, and the hens gathered around obviously begging for a bike ride. My camera battery couldn't make it to get that image for you, but trust me, it's hilarious to see chickens who want to ride bikes.

Katie's Farm Pics

Since I'm too lazy to make an effort at creating an interesting blog post, I figured I'd dazzle you with Katie's lovely photos. These are the twin baby girl goats who will find a home next month on approximately a million acres over on the other side of Lynchburg. Today was such a fun day despite the alarming global warming that came on so suddenly. In the morning we read stories to children at the library, then went to the local pool with friends. At home we mellowed out in the central air watching Rupert Everett as Sherlock Holmes while Laura prepared a delicious dinner of glazed pork chops with wild rice pilaf. Afterward, we met a delightful family through, you guessed it... a Craigslist goat posting.

Chicken Day

Here are two girls with the fruits of their labors.
Becky did all of the eviscerating.
Dan chopped off heads, thank God.
Katie and I helped to pluck.
Laura was an excellent scalder, but she and I ran off to soccer practice before the photo shoot.

One Month Old

Here are the excellent Freedom Rangers on their exploration of the farm this misty morning. Lily is keeping watch while they dig their way to China.

Freedom Rangers Ranging

The heritage type broiler chicks are three weeks old, healthy, happy, and active.
Laura does all the work involved in raising these birds, so they don't take up any of my time or attention. (Except for the fact that watching them roam is addicting!)
They range freely all day, spreading throughout the pig pen and whole front yard. They eat lots of bugs and grass. And game bird starter.
At night, they put themselves to bed in the small chicken coop. We haven't used a heat lamp for over a week now!
We're supposed to start harvesting them at 9 weeks. We may try to do about 5 that week and see how large and tender they are, then do some more each week till they're gone.

Go, Go, Freedom Rangers!

After buying some boneless breast of chicken at Sam's Club, then bringing it home to repackage and freeze, I decided to grow our own broilers. The store-bought chicken was so gross that I'm not sure if we can even eat it. It was mushy and stuck to my hands, disintegrating when I handled it. It's odorless, so I assume it's safe to eat, but when we cooked the first batch in the crock pot for chicken enchiladas, it was rubbery and, well, just plain weird.
We don't love the unnatural growth of the hybrid broilers, and we don't want to eat normal breeds since we're so used to some serious meat on a carcass, so we chose Freedom Rangers; a heritage broiler breed with the best of both worlds.
They also happen to be named like Super Heroes.
They came this morning and were all alive and peppy.
Much to our dismay, we're smitten with them!

Imprinting

Annabeth the Setting Hen

Laura brought the camera up to me and said simply, "Alfred Hitchcock."
Annabeth's expression could certainly inspire a horror movie involving birds.
(She's actually a very tame and friendly lady.)

Chicken Coop Revisited

Being tired of eggs hidden anywhere and everywhere around the farm, and chicken poop on my porches, I hired a chicken pen built.

The coop was already there, but alas, nobody would use it for shelter or egg laying.

After the prison yard was finished and predator proof (unless the predator is determined) Becky got motivated to clean out the old shavings and replace them with new. So it even smells half decent in the coop now.

I don't know if you can tell from the picture, but this fence is 6' high.

9 Little Chicks and How They Grew

Today's the first day out for our little girls.
These have been the healthiest, quietest chicks we've ever had. They were hatched at Mt. Healthy.
The grown up chickens are finally laying in the barn where Katie collects the eggs.
I'm so relieved that they started laying, because I really didn't want to eat them.
These chicks will be the ones laying eggs by Thanksgiving.

New Arrivals

I believe this is self explanatory...

Aaaargh, Matey

Here's me with my pirate parrot on my shoulder.
Or maybe Peepers, the chicken who likes to ride on backs.
She was riding the goats earlier, then decided to fly up to my back for a better look around.
I took this photo myself.

Big Red in the Leaf Pile

Becky watched as Mr. Red trudged around in the leaf pile for a while. Then he fell fast asleep in the warmth.