Where to begin on the history of this journey? Probably at the end of the summer, 2009. Bruce and I had stopped by one of my hippy/friend/instructor's home to see her menagerie. Karen and her husband Denver were going back to the land on 1 1/4 acres, and were well on their way to self-sustainability. We're talking about egg layers and roasters, goats for milk and cheese, rabbits for meat, and a large vegetable garden. We were blown away. Maybe it was my upbrining on Forest Glen: the garden, the fruit trees, the canning cupboard, the butchering, and the freezer. We also had milk delivered to the back door when that was still possible. My how times have changed. Bruce and I have so enjoyed eating from our garden, so why not raise hens?
Perhaps we took the first step because Bruce was home alone and I thought he needed a project to keep him busy. Most of my creative 'ideas' ultimately result in keeping Bruce busy, intentional or not. We also have adopted a philosophy of taking advantage of where we are while we are here. When we move South in a few years to be near the girls, we won't tackle another 5 acres. We will probably live in some sort of suburbia, and will no longer have the advantages we do here, so we want to partake in every opportunity that comes our way. That is why I took up cross-country skiing, kayaking, building garden frames from harvested wood and grapevine, and coming up in January and February, building twig furniture.
After searching the internet, checking out our very cool Amish-built shed outdoor store, and visiting our local farm store, we embarked on the process of building our own coop from scratch. This way our structure would blend with our landscape and take advantage of the building site. We thought we had plenty of left over material here at Camp Colegate to do it inexpensively (hah!), and that it basically was a simple process. Yes and no.We worked through the fall, neither of us really knowing how to do this. When we got to the roof, I told Bruce he was in charge of that, as I had no clue how to proceed. Bruce enlisted the knowledge and help of our neighbor, Mike, who had it done in no time. The coop withstood 50 mph winds in a late autumn storm and never blew over, although Bruce did go out an replace some shingles on the roof. We were both delighted and amazed. We also realized our coop was more water tight than our Amish built garden shed. We have had to make adjustments over the seasons, as doors freeze and thaw, but overall, we did it. Mike had leant us his circular saw, which was a godsend, but for the most part, we used Bruce's grandfather's beautiful old hand saw and a hammer. Oh, and I did insist that Bruce buy a level, since we had none in our collection of cast off tools and materials.
Spring arrived, and after a trip South, I made the rounds of our feed stores to purchase an ecclectic mix of breeds: 2 White Leghorn, 2 Golden Comets, and 3 Barred Rocks. Chicks arrive at the feed stores by mail, almost immediately after hatching. I was able to receive my Golden Comets directly from their mailing box, before they were mixed in with the flock in the bin in the middle of the store. We kept them in a cardboard condo in the basement with a brooder lamp for 3-4 weeks, and moved them outdoors once they feathered out. We have been so fortunate, as we have had no mishaps, and have been blessed with a bounty of white, beige and brown eggs that we share with family, friends and neighbors.
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| Hens in summer, have yet to plump out. |
Now I'm the one who is home alone for hours on end, and I truly enjoy watering, feeding, checking on and collecting eggs from our hens. Everything you've heard about hens, all those old-fashioned sayings, are absolutely true. The hens provide us with the most outstanding eggs, and a sense of mothering and caretaking for me. Even in extreme weather, which we are experiencing in Ohio early this year, it is interesting taking care of them, as every day presents a different problem that needs to be solved.
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| Still scrawny |
Some surprising benefits for us is the wealth of chicken compost. Although not entirely intentional, the coop is adjacent to our compost pile. We buy bulk bedding, similar to what one would use for their hamsters, and after a few weeks, it's time to dig it out and replace it with fresh. On Saturday, I attended the lovely brunch presented by Antioch Church, came home, changed clothes and shoveled the shit (forgive me) out of the hen house, and wheeled it 10 steps to my compost pile. A delightful efficiency. Then I showered and changed back so that Bruce and I could catch a movie ("The Tourist" - outstanding) and dinner. What a diverse lifestyle. The combination of wood shavings and nitrogen rich debris (thank you, Susie), works down my raked and composted leaves quickly.
Another benefit is that the hens have loved our garden debris. My understanding from an article in Mother Earth News is that when one turns the little vultures loose in the compost pile, they scatter it all over. We choose to bring the fall gleanings form the garden to them. We roll back the chicken wire on the top of their run and drop it in. These roly poly vultures devour it in no time flat. Not only do the gifts from the garden provide them with added nutrition, but the leftovers provide the hens with entertainment as they peck through anything that comes their way. Bruce was stunned when he was working on their ramp, set some screws down, only to watch the hens in horror as the hens immediately began to root through the screws, throwing them in all directions as they sorted through something new, looking for something to eat.
And who would have thought that we would have timed our hen experiment to coincide with the salmonella outbreak? Our hens are totally enclosed, be they indoors or outdoors, to prevent any cross contamination with other birds. And as people were concerned and throwing out their store bought eggs for safety's sake, we were providing them with natural, healthy eggs from hens that are lovingly cared for. Then there is the fascination the hens provide for the grandchildren, who made endless trips to and from the hen house to check on the daily production of eggs. Also, our grandchildren are understanding the source of their food.
