Friday, April 21, 2006
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Chicken Mutts
After work today, Jeff, Addison and I ran to Myerstown to get a brooder light, a feeder, and some other supplies for the chicks we were hoping would arrive this weekend. We already had a big refrigerator box that we'd cut the top off of. We were prepared to drive about 35 miles to an agway in Spring City this Saturday, because they were the only ones in the area who we knew stocked chicks.
Our first stop today was the Farmer Boy Ag Center. I thought it was a regular feed store, but when we walked in, it was obviously intended for much bigger operations than ours. There was an office and warehouses - no retail store. We got some funny looks as we toddled in and asked sheepishly if they had feeders and brooders. The guy asked what kind of poultry we were raising... was it for meat or eggs. I said eggs, because I felt silly telling him the truth - that they would be mostly pets. Addison would make them into lap chickens if he could.
"How many are you raising, 100?" the guy asked me. Now I felt really dumb...
"No. Less than a dozen," I said. He pulled out a catalog and showed me what he had. They even had large heated brooders, but he added, "that's probably a little more than you want."
"Yep. " I answered. "I'm putting them in a big box. Nothing fancy. I just need a small feeder, a waterer, and one light. " I asked him what size light I would need. He turned to his colleague.
"What kind of light do you need for chickens in a box?"
"250 watts should be enough for chickens in a box ," the colleague answered.
I made my little list, and then they gave us some free hats and shipped us off to the warehouse to pick up our items. I'm sure they snickered about us later.
The first outfit did not stock feed, but rather pointed me to another feed store down the road - a smaller retail outlet by the name of Hubers. It was probably where I should've gone in the first place. I was only intending to get the supplies I needed today, not the chickens themselves. However, when we got to the second store, there was a sign outside, "chicks 75 cents each." I thought maybe they'd have a set-up similar to the Agway we were planning to visit, with Brahmas, Wyandottes, etc.
Well, it wasn't exactly like that. They did have the feed and all the remaining supplies we needed, and I was looking around for big brooders or something. What I found was a box near the checkout counter with a motley crew of rather pathetic looking chicks. I inquired about what kind they were. The guy didn't know. Apparently it's something one of the local farm kids does on the side. He said they were Rhode Island Red crosses, and the black ones were some kind of layers. They were only a day or two old and we couldn't tell which were roosters and which were hens. Addison parked himself next to the box, totally enamored. It was apparent that there was no way I was walking out of there without some chickens. We took two of each color - reddish brown, yellow, and black with yellow spots. I thought Addison would burst.
We got them home and quickly assembled our brooder, dipped their beaks in the water and showed them their feed. They seemed to be adjusting fine by the time Jason got home from his Yoga class.
"What kind are they?" he asked. I was feeling dumb for at LEAST the second time that day.
"Well, Rhode Island Reds, sort of. And the black ones lay eggs. The yellow ones will turn white, and well, I really don't know. "
I could tell this was not what he had in mind. He wanted Wyandottes and Brahmas - all hens, no roosters, and he intended to give them Sanskrit names. These chickens obviously weren't the sanskrit types. It was more like the Sheryl Crow song "He says his name is William, but I'm sure it's Bill or Billy or Mac or Buddy."
"Well, do we know if any of them are roosters?"
"Um, well, no," I said. "It's kind of hard to tell. It's not really 100% even if you order them from a nursery." (Let alone pick up a bunch of rag-tag orphans from an out-of-the way small-town feed store, I thought).
"So you're telling me there could be five roosters in there, and we got MUTTS again."
"Well, yeah, actually there could be six roosters... and yes, they are cast-off mutts like the rest of our pets." (We have the nursery-trash cats from the garden center, the pound puppy, and the cast-off Himalayan. We even have some horny guppies that we saved from a one-way trip down the toilet.) At that point, I didn't care anymore, and I was actually kind of enjoying the thought that I could let the roosters loose at the next in-law gathering and watch them chase people around. Addison was still sitting in the box with his chickens, beaming. He would've slept in the box with them, if he could. One of the black peeps was chasing his fingers, probably thinking they were worms. Addison cracked up laughing. Other peeps were stretching out and sleeping in little fluffy blobs on the floor. I reminded Jason that six chickens is not that many and we could still go to the other Agway and get a few more if they have some breeds that we really like. I also explained how the day had progressed and he understood that there was no way I could've gotten out of Hubers without chickens unless I was willing to crush Addison and leave with a hysterical toddler. Truthfully, I wanted to take the whole box of about 14. He was lucky he only ended up with 6.
I guess to me the point was not to have a bunch of fancy chickens. I wanted my kids to experience something that was one of my fondest memories as a kid. My grandmother got chickens and/or ducks every year and I remember very clearly helping her unpack them, dip their beaks in water for their first drink, and put them in their cardboard box. I remember going out to collect eggs and reaching under the warm, soft hens. It was the best thing in the world. I honestly can't think of anything I like better than critters like these. I'm glad to be able to do this with my kids and hopefully someday with my grandkids.
Well, I will keep you posted on the latest happenings and post some pictures within the next day or two. Good night and Take Care,
Erika
Our first stop today was the Farmer Boy Ag Center. I thought it was a regular feed store, but when we walked in, it was obviously intended for much bigger operations than ours. There was an office and warehouses - no retail store. We got some funny looks as we toddled in and asked sheepishly if they had feeders and brooders. The guy asked what kind of poultry we were raising... was it for meat or eggs. I said eggs, because I felt silly telling him the truth - that they would be mostly pets. Addison would make them into lap chickens if he could.
"How many are you raising, 100?" the guy asked me. Now I felt really dumb...
"No. Less than a dozen," I said. He pulled out a catalog and showed me what he had. They even had large heated brooders, but he added, "that's probably a little more than you want."
"Yep. " I answered. "I'm putting them in a big box. Nothing fancy. I just need a small feeder, a waterer, and one light. " I asked him what size light I would need. He turned to his colleague.
"What kind of light do you need for chickens in a box?"
"250 watts should be enough for chickens in a box ," the colleague answered.
I made my little list, and then they gave us some free hats and shipped us off to the warehouse to pick up our items. I'm sure they snickered about us later.
The first outfit did not stock feed, but rather pointed me to another feed store down the road - a smaller retail outlet by the name of Hubers. It was probably where I should've gone in the first place. I was only intending to get the supplies I needed today, not the chickens themselves. However, when we got to the second store, there was a sign outside, "chicks 75 cents each." I thought maybe they'd have a set-up similar to the Agway we were planning to visit, with Brahmas, Wyandottes, etc.
Well, it wasn't exactly like that. They did have the feed and all the remaining supplies we needed, and I was looking around for big brooders or something. What I found was a box near the checkout counter with a motley crew of rather pathetic looking chicks. I inquired about what kind they were. The guy didn't know. Apparently it's something one of the local farm kids does on the side. He said they were Rhode Island Red crosses, and the black ones were some kind of layers. They were only a day or two old and we couldn't tell which were roosters and which were hens. Addison parked himself next to the box, totally enamored. It was apparent that there was no way I was walking out of there without some chickens. We took two of each color - reddish brown, yellow, and black with yellow spots. I thought Addison would burst.
We got them home and quickly assembled our brooder, dipped their beaks in the water and showed them their feed. They seemed to be adjusting fine by the time Jason got home from his Yoga class.
"What kind are they?" he asked. I was feeling dumb for at LEAST the second time that day.
"Well, Rhode Island Reds, sort of. And the black ones lay eggs. The yellow ones will turn white, and well, I really don't know. "
I could tell this was not what he had in mind. He wanted Wyandottes and Brahmas - all hens, no roosters, and he intended to give them Sanskrit names. These chickens obviously weren't the sanskrit types. It was more like the Sheryl Crow song "He says his name is William, but I'm sure it's Bill or Billy or Mac or Buddy."
"Well, do we know if any of them are roosters?"
"Um, well, no," I said. "It's kind of hard to tell. It's not really 100% even if you order them from a nursery." (Let alone pick up a bunch of rag-tag orphans from an out-of-the way small-town feed store, I thought).
"So you're telling me there could be five roosters in there, and we got MUTTS again."
"Well, yeah, actually there could be six roosters... and yes, they are cast-off mutts like the rest of our pets." (We have the nursery-trash cats from the garden center, the pound puppy, and the cast-off Himalayan. We even have some horny guppies that we saved from a one-way trip down the toilet.) At that point, I didn't care anymore, and I was actually kind of enjoying the thought that I could let the roosters loose at the next in-law gathering and watch them chase people around. Addison was still sitting in the box with his chickens, beaming. He would've slept in the box with them, if he could. One of the black peeps was chasing his fingers, probably thinking they were worms. Addison cracked up laughing. Other peeps were stretching out and sleeping in little fluffy blobs on the floor. I reminded Jason that six chickens is not that many and we could still go to the other Agway and get a few more if they have some breeds that we really like. I also explained how the day had progressed and he understood that there was no way I could've gotten out of Hubers without chickens unless I was willing to crush Addison and leave with a hysterical toddler. Truthfully, I wanted to take the whole box of about 14. He was lucky he only ended up with 6.
I guess to me the point was not to have a bunch of fancy chickens. I wanted my kids to experience something that was one of my fondest memories as a kid. My grandmother got chickens and/or ducks every year and I remember very clearly helping her unpack them, dip their beaks in water for their first drink, and put them in their cardboard box. I remember going out to collect eggs and reaching under the warm, soft hens. It was the best thing in the world. I honestly can't think of anything I like better than critters like these. I'm glad to be able to do this with my kids and hopefully someday with my grandkids.
Well, I will keep you posted on the latest happenings and post some pictures within the next day or two. Good night and Take Care,
Erika
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
For My Feathered Friend
Yesterday, I mailed a letter to a chicken. Literally.
The Religious Education Director at our church brought one of her chickens to visit Addison's Sunday School class. Addison fell completely and totally in love with the little Wyandotte hen named Jane. Jason could barely get him to move aside so that the rest of the class could pet her. He stood there in his own little world... just him and the hen. She stayed for a snack consisting of graham crackers and fig newtons. After class, Addison marched up to the chicken's owner and with a very serious look asked where he could purchase a chicken of his own. He listened intently while she explained that the chicken came from a local Agway. "What ROAD is it on," he asked. Then guess who managed to talk his dad into getting some chickens. Mr. "We don't need any more *&^&$! animals to take care of" looked into that little face and totally buckled... turned to jello... putty in Addison's hands. I have a feeling we will be purchasing chicken supplies this weekend.
In the meantime, Addison dictated a thank-you letter to Jane. He told her he loved her, thanked her for visiting his class, and said that he hoped she could come visit his new chickens sometime. I'm sure no other chicken has ever received a nicer letter. I typed up the letter and sent it c/o Jane's owner.
Yesterday morning, Addison told one of the ladies at daycare that he was getting chickens. She asked him if they would lay eggs. He explained in a most serious manner, that they would, in fact, lay eggs. "Yes," he said, "if you give them some privacy (pronounced "iss you gib dem some privasthee"), they will lay eggs."
Remember ladies and gents... privacy is key.
The Religious Education Director at our church brought one of her chickens to visit Addison's Sunday School class. Addison fell completely and totally in love with the little Wyandotte hen named Jane. Jason could barely get him to move aside so that the rest of the class could pet her. He stood there in his own little world... just him and the hen. She stayed for a snack consisting of graham crackers and fig newtons. After class, Addison marched up to the chicken's owner and with a very serious look asked where he could purchase a chicken of his own. He listened intently while she explained that the chicken came from a local Agway. "What ROAD is it on," he asked. Then guess who managed to talk his dad into getting some chickens. Mr. "We don't need any more *&^&$! animals to take care of" looked into that little face and totally buckled... turned to jello... putty in Addison's hands. I have a feeling we will be purchasing chicken supplies this weekend.
In the meantime, Addison dictated a thank-you letter to Jane. He told her he loved her, thanked her for visiting his class, and said that he hoped she could come visit his new chickens sometime. I'm sure no other chicken has ever received a nicer letter. I typed up the letter and sent it c/o Jane's owner.
Yesterday morning, Addison told one of the ladies at daycare that he was getting chickens. She asked him if they would lay eggs. He explained in a most serious manner, that they would, in fact, lay eggs. "Yes," he said, "if you give them some privacy (pronounced "iss you gib dem some privasthee"), they will lay eggs."
Remember ladies and gents... privacy is key.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)