Moving the Coop

Thank you to all who helped, without any one of you it would not have gotten done.

Intervention

Last week I was asked if I was willing take 9 four week old pullets.  I thought about the 11 laying hens & the 15 young pullets we already have while listening to the story behind the soon to be homeless chicks. 

Of course I said yes.

On Saturday we prepared our yard for the new arrivals.  A vintage single bed spring frame divided the 100+ square foot chicken yard. With a travel dog kennel and some straw in the smaller of the  divided areas it was ready for the older pullets.  

Rhiannon cleaned the brooder cottage so we were ready.

Sunday afternoon, as I walked my bike up the back porch after work Chris watched me intently.

"What's up?" I asked.

"We need to talk," he said seriously.  I looked at him in confusion as he took my hand in his after I parked the bike.  "You know I love you, and I only want what's best for you . . ."

I sat down even more confused.

"But you now have 40 chickens.  I think you may have OCD."  He paused. "Obsessive Chicken Disorder."  He grinned at me.

I shook my head.  "I can stop anytime I want.  .  .and we only have 35"

Growing

The 15 chicks continue to feather out, becoming gawky adolescents.  I build a makeshift roost with a beer box and small sticks, swapped straw in for newspaper and placed the food and water on landscape blocks to hopefully keep them cleaner.  By next week we may be able to have the light on only at night.

I Googled "brooder in coop" and discovered I was not the only person to think there has got to be an easier way to raise and introduce day old chicks to an existing flock.  They are dusty little creatures and the bathroom will need a complete sanitizing before we have company at the end of this month. 

(Yes mom, the chicks will be outside by then.)

Full bathtub

And then there were 15.

Chris decided to give me additional baby chicks for the day of love (he really does know me).  When I had gone last week, the 3 breeds I had really wanted: Sicilian Buttercup, Ancona & Austra Whites, had not yet been delivered. 

New year, full circle

The annual trip to Elizabeth was more enjoyable than usual.  A friend from work came with me on the hour long drive.  The company and conversation made the drive almost celebratory.  We stopped for lunch before picking up 2 of each: Buff Orphington, Araucana, gold-laced Wyandotte and Light Brahma.

Then we headed home, with a stop at Murdoch's for chick feed and Vitamin Cottage for greens.  At both stops, the box of peeping chicks caused quite a commotion as customers and employees alike crowded around to coo over the baby birds.

They are now ensconced in the indoor "mini barn" with Luna and her litter.

Continued cold

The snow is still here.  As are the single digit temperatures.  This may seem normal, but here it is not.  Snow usually lasts 1 day on the roads and sidewalks, and is all but gone within 2 - the temps having returned to the 40's our higher by then.

I brought Gary the rooster inside this morning.  The cold has really affected his ability to walk, and he does not seem to be able to fluff out his feathers to keep as warm as the hens.  So he is ensconced under the table that holds our Christmas tree until it warms up a bit.  He wool probably get a bath before then as his grooming has also suffered.

Yeah, he's almost a pet.  To scrawny to eat, and more than a little pathetic.  But a great introduction to people who have never seen a chicken up close as he is so calm and friendly.

 

Update: Before the new year, Gary died quietly one night.   

I can take this off my bucket list

Washing (and blow drying) Snowball (and Chocolate) for show at the Denver county fair.

the beginning of the end

This is Hallie's Comet.

Or as yelled when she is in the strawberries - Hallie.

She is the reason the hens are no longer free range.  All of the other hens stayed out, initially of any fenced or raised area (i.e. the strawberries, potato, celery, cucumber and flower beds)  But no fence keeps her out and eventually others follow.  When chased out, she immediately tries to skirt around me back in.

It reminds me, fondly, of a young cousin of mine who didn't listen too well when my Dad would tell her to stay out of the cow pen, pig pen, oak tree etc.

Hallie is a golden comet hen.


Golden Comets are a cross between a Rhode Island rooster and a White Plymoth Rock hen, although some hatcheries use New Hampshire Roosters instead of Rhode Island Reds OR They use a White Leghorn Hen instead of a White Rock.  This is the chicken version of an F1 hybrid plant.  I got her 'cause I had never heard of them before.  But I have since learned they are known by other names (Red Star, Comets, Golden Sex Link, Isa Brown & Red Sex Link)

But what makes this Golden Comet different for us is that she is the only one of the newly laying pullets that has a name.   

The hens are moving even further into livestock status.

We have a pullet egg!

Lower left corner - smaller than the rest.

New additions

Luna - New Zealand doe

Gary, the Polish Crested Rooster and his chief tormentor Snowball

Yeti - New Zealand buck

Gary

I have never introduced a single chicken to the flock.

This will take awhile.

Gary is docile and pigeon toed (?) and younger than all the hens, who hen peck our other rooster nearly featherless.  But Scrappy is of sterner stuff, I think.  Polish Crested as a breed are usually on the bottom of the pecking order.

So far only the silkie has befriended him.

For a couple days I had Gary, the silkie, and Snowball in the defunct duck pen.  But Snowball is very aggressive.  So now Gary is in a cage inside the coop so the hens will get used to him before he is released into the general public.

But this one may become a pet.

Poultry Swapped!

Hey, Indica here.

So, today we went to this place, and did this thing, and it was fun... and I suppose you want the details. It starts here.

Rhiannon and I made a menu. With my 30 different colors of Sharpies we decorated the most eye-catching poster board ever! And the menu read...

Chickens

Hens -  $5

Pullets - $20

Tomato starts - $3

The hen you see is Tweedle Dee

Yes, we were selling our chickens. Not all of them, just 5 hens and 6 pullets. Our 28 chicken flock is just a little to big. Just a smidgen. And we had extra tomato plants so why not bring them along?

Meanwhile, Mom catching the extra chickens and putting them in containers.  She used Riley's dog crate, a critter cage and two cracked laundry baskets zip tied together, then she loaded the crates and our old Radio Flyer wagon that we have had for, like, ever. (aka, since I was born)  into our minivan and Mom, Rhiannon and I were off to Earthdog Denver before 9am.

We arrived at Earthdog at about 9:30. But not for doggy daycare, but the Poultry swap! (Much more enjoyable in my opinion. I mean, wet, loud  dogs or chickens and bunnies?) We have been there before, but always as a buyer and I was excited to be on the seller side.  The swap doesn't start until 10, but already people were milling about.

Me with the Iowa blue and our fabulous menu.

We unloaded the minivan onto the flatbed wagon and pulled it near one of the other 6 sellers already there. Then mom left Rhiannon and I with the chickens and went to park the car. As soon as mom left, people began swarming the dog crate full of hens. I felt a little like a new hen added to an old flock.  Both buyers and sellers were crowding around us, craning their necks to see what we had.  Nobody else, it seemed had come in a minivan.  All the people here had trucks with real cages displayed in and around the open hatch.  And there we were with laundry baskets that had been destined for the garbage can.

Turkeys

But we must have looked okay  because when mom came back less than 5 minutes later, all the hens were already being strongly considered!  And one person already had cash in hand.

It is true, $5 for laying hen is cheep (get it? cheep?) -  ours were between 18 and 24 months and will lay well for another year or 2.  But it was either sell or butcher and I was on Team Sell.  (I like Sell better than Edward and Jacob COMBINED!)

Muscovy Ducks

During the transfer to new owner, Sonja escaped.  Of course it would be her, the smallest and fastest of all the hens.  Mesha stayed at our spot while Mom and I tried to catch her before she reached the street.  But the new owner (a seller himself) was the best chicken wrangler EVER.  He dived around her front while she was escaping our pursuit from behind (we were now nearly a 1/2 a block down from the parking lot)  She was quickly stuck in a cardboard box with another hen and he took them to his area.  (of course HE was one of the truck people)

The second we arrived back at our area a woman walked up and asked about the other 3 hens. She was more cautious, wanting to know about the eggs and what we fed them, and why we were selling them.  After 5 minutes, yes, SOLD!

So we now we have an empty dog crate, 6 cute pullets, a butt-load of tomatoes, and we hadn't even been their an hour! We were off to a good start.

It was a little slow after that. (for like ten minutes - Jenn)  More sellers showed up, and new buyers. We milled about, holding pullets in our hands. (Bear with me if this part is boring, this part of the swap kinda was too)  (Again - this was 10 minutes, but after the initial excitement it was a let down for the girls I think - Jenn)

Around this time  Rhiannon and I were getting a little bored and wandered to the other vendors. While Rhiannon found a group of girls her age to giggle with, I tried to find meat and/or fiber rabbit pairs. Unfortunately, there were none. But it was not yet 11 and we were planning to stay until the bitter end (2pm) to sell the pullets.

Lionhead Bunny

The silkie went first.  Our price for 16 week old pullets was average, with some as low as $15 and up to $25.  After about 1/2 hour, only the Iowa blue was left.  One woman bought 3 pullets, and we sent the makeshift laundry basket cage with her.  We had an escape during that transfer too, and the same seller as before caught the rogue Welsummer.  Even more vendors were showing up. On one side of us was a woman with a Barred Rock hen and a crippled and very docile Polish Crested cockrel. On the other, Lionhead bunnies! We asked, but mom said no.

Rhiannon with one tiny bunny

A 1/2 hour crawled past. The Iowa Blue had not been purchased.  Mom said if she did not sell she was okay bringing her home again.  I think she was just having fun watching and talking to people.

Then a couple brought out a pair of sibling bunnies, both the size of a pear.

That brought the squeals. And another no from mom.

The next hour was spent begging. But the answer was no. No to the potbelly pig, no to the turkeys. No to the Snowflake Bobwhite, no to Muscovy ducklings.

Pot Bellied Pig

After a while, I came running over to mom while she was (finally!) selling the Iowa Blue to a young girl.  I knew how she felt, as she took her own money from her purse.  Mom boxed up our last pullet just as I got to her.

"There are black and white New Zealands!" I squealed.

Mom nodded and stood up.  She gathered all of our animal stuff together. The tomatoes were on the crate, but everything else was empty and neatly stacked behind it.  Next to us the woman with the Polish was still holding him.  He sat quietly in her hands, obviously used to such treatment.  He was so pretty feather white and cream.  I bounced nervously.  In front of us people were leaving the swap with livestock, and I didn't want to go home with nothing.

I dragged Mom to a 4H girl with a black doe (named Luna).  4 months old and of breeding age. Mom said yes.  Then she bought a 6 month old white buck from another seller.  We had a pair!  The dog crate and the critter cage again had occupants.

Then a woman asked if mom wanted to barter for some tomato plants.  She traded us 2 raspberry canes and a small black current for 4 tomato plants.  I could see that mom was thrilled.  Then after the woman left Mom leaned over to the woman with the Polish and offered to buy him.  I looked at her funny, another rooster?  Mom just smiled.  "He needs a home," she said.  The woman said his name is Gary and she was so happy he found a new home.  Even though he is only 2 months old, she felt it was better to find him one now rather than upset her neighbors later.

With all of our stuff back on the Radio Flyer, and me holding the box with Gary in it, we looked around for Mesha.

She was nowhere in sight.

"Great," mom said quietly.  "I bought a rooster and lost my daughter."

We found her playing charades with other girls behind a vendor with really nice chicken tractors.

I texted Dad.  He said he was okay with the rabbits and Mom was crazy to buy a rooster.

She just laughed.  "Remember Cadbury?" she asked "Your Dad would have bought him too."

"But," she considered, "where are we going to put 2 rabbits - we only have one spare hutch."

wanna be broody

Most of the day this is where Chocolate and Snowflake can be found.  They almost growl when I open the coop door and refuse to move when eggs are being gathered.

Then in the evening they are traipsing around the yard, their grand plans forgotten, the eggs cold.

Waterloo

"Rhiannon it's 5am, what are you doing up?"

"The chickens are being really noisy.  Well mostly just Napoleon."

Sounds of a full volume crow.  Followed by another.  And another.

Pile o' pullets

Before

After

(Not really, but it sure looks like it could be)

Chickens at the Backdoor

That is the name of the class I helped teach with two others at the Littleton History Museum today.   It seemed to go over well, about 30 or so people showed up and made positive comments on the way out again two hours later.  I brought a dozen eggs in different colors and also some chickens - Snowball (the bantam cochin frizzle hen) and Chocolate (Indica's bantam naked neck hen), Honey (Rhiannon's standard cochin hen) and Chewbacca (a friend's Arucana hen) and a white brama pullet.  I really felt these showed a wide range of breeds available.   We visited the 1890's chicken coop - a fine example of a hen house to be sure.  Having a 3-person panel was great, as we all had different information to share.  There is a second class in May.

Boys in the 'hood

Napoleon

Two of our bantam cochin frizzles turned out to be male.  Littleton ordinances clearly state no roosters - but we will keep them unless one of our neighbors complain.

Napoleon is half the size of most of the hens, he is even smaller than Chocolate (Indica's bantam naked neck), but he takes his job seriously.  While the hens are busy eating and scratching he stands off to the side keeping a keen lookout for predators.   He puts everything he has in to crowing - even though when he does he sounds more like a children's squeeze toy than the cock of the rock.

Scrappy

Scrappy is near the bottom of the pecking order.  He does not crow and spends most of his time hiding under one of the standard cochins - for both safety and warmth I think.  He is a frazzle.  The frizzle gene is dominant and he seems to have had 2 frizzle parents, which makes his feathers brittle.  He's kind of sad looking, but he lives of to his name.  If he was a person I think he would be Urkel.


This year I would like to seperate Napoleon with any other bantam hens into a separate coop - possibly recommission the playhouse coop - and see what happens.  Frizzle naked neck or Frizzle silkies would be awesome.

I would leave Scrappy in with the larger hens, to see if as the only rooster he would be allowed to feather out more.  And maybe be Stefan Urquelle instead.

Adapting to spring snow

 As I have said many times, the chickens do not like snow.  After waking the girls (unnecessarily) for school I had gone outside to find the hen yard empty.

With now 30 chickens in our coop that is truly maxed at 15, I needed at least the older flock to go outside.

By the house they have a tarp covered area that stays mostly clear - even with the wind blowing the snow around it is protected.  But it was also all the way across their yard.

I have 3 words.  Frosted Mini Wheats.  At the bottom of every box there is an inch or so of "leavings" that no one eats.  Sometimes I use it in apple crisp or a muffin recipe, but sometimes it gets lost in the back of the cupboard and found only after it is long stale.

But the hens enjoy it.

After spreading a couple sections of straw in their covered area I made a path with the crushed cereal.  As you can see, all the hens were enticed out.

Then I made an area for the pullets.

A folding card table, some more straw, and a waterproof table cloth is a little ghetto, but it works.  Because of their age the light is on 24/7 in the coop, but this should encourage them out a bit also.

It kinda reminds me of the annex for the Minneapolis flock.

Spring

Easter is a celebration of spring and all of its inherent new beginnings.   The easter bunny always brings us seeds and plants along with the requisite chocolate. 

This year a peppermint plant and some fennel seeds - both noxious, yet very tasty, perennials - were in our basket. Next to Rhiannon's purple Peeps were seeds for yard long Asian beans and Joseph's coat Amaranth.

The day was relaxed and enjoyable.  After feeding the various animals and moving the new chicks outside we relaxed, taking Riley for a leisurely walk and eating the traditional ham dinner.  Although I had planned on planting peas, Jerusalem artichokes,  and potatoes with the girls, but the daylight seemed to be gone before we got around to it.

The chicks with their new beginnings out of the bathtub and in the coop. 

This I realize is the part of my life that makes me not a real farmer.  The luxury of procrastination.  If I feed the animals enough one day I can sometimes skip the next, knowing that there is food & water to tide them over until the following morning.  The seeds can be planted tomorrow, or the next day.  I have put off harvesting daily, shrugging off the lost harvest.  This is not a personal trait I am proud of.  I think successful farmers must be type A personalities - of which I am most definitely not.  In the beginning I am always full of grand ideas that fade into missed opportunities.   Making a change always seems to be with the handful of other tasks never crossed off my to do list.

I sound so melancholy.

I'm not.

I want this year to be different.  I want to harvest enough peas to freeze some.  I want to store enough potatoes to eat through Christmas.  But these two items are perfect examples of how I am improving.  Two years ago I had only a handful of snow peas - last year we had enough for a meal or two.  The potato harvest of 2011 was nil - last year we had a meal and I stored 2+ dozen small ones well enough successfully to use for this year's seed.

I revel in the cliche of  baby steps.