My first experience keeping chickens is blurry, likely because as a kid, I didn’t contribute much to their well being. A couple years ago, Bryon and I welcomed three ladies into our backyard: Dolly, Emmylou, and Loretta. Bryon built the coop and was in charge of its cleaning and maintenance. I had the more enjoyable jobs of naming them, singing to them, feeding them (not as fun in the beginning—messy little things), returning them after free range time, and so on. When we moved, we found them another home, knowing our next venture into chicken-ery would be more extensive.
After a long year missing our feathered friends, Bryon and I headed to the Farm Store in early March to pick out ten adorable chicks. We returned the following week and brought home two more to increase the variety of egg colors. Twelve chicks a chirping made me very happy. Initially, we kept them in the house, as it was still too cold in the garage at night, even with a heat lamp. Baby chicks need to be kept at a temperature of 95 degrees the first week, with each week decreasing by about 5 degrees. Other than the dust that accumulated on every surface, it was nice having them close by and easy to check on first thing in the morning, throughout the day, and right before bedtime.
The first batch of chickens: one week old
In the second week, I settled on names, deciding to continue with my country singers theme from our last flock. So let me introduce you to the girls:
Wynona and Naomi (Rhode Island Reds)
Patsy and Roseanne (Barred Rocks)
Tammy and Tanya (Anaconas)
Trisha and Taylor (Easter Eggers)
Barbara and Crystal (Delawares)
Maybelle and June (Black Sex Link)
The chicks in their second home a few weeks later
As they got a little bigger, we divided them into two different brooders and relocated them to the garage. First, this meant two waterers and two feeders to clean several times a day. (As I mentioned earlier, they make quite a mess—kicking pine shavings into everything, along with the view that the whole world is a toilet.) This move was a little more complicated in that our garage is now full of kitchen cabinets waiting for the day that construction can finally begin. I also have my treadmill and workout area in the garage. But chicken dust, freaked out chickens, and the whole virus lockdown has made it hard to stay motivated to continue with jumping jacks and pushups and so on.
During this time, Bryon was working on a somewhat more permanent home for them. See, we went ahead and got the chicks before he even started on a coop. The genius part of this is that— if we had them, he would have to start building. And it’s a good thing we got them when we did, as the food hoarding situation seems to have prompted more people to attempt raising chickens. A poultry discussion group we belong to has been sharing stories of some places running out of chicks in 45 minutes and others charging higher prices than normal. Crazy times, y’all…so glad we found our farm when we did!
The chickens’ temporary home inside the garden. Just beyond are the T posts that will eventually become the poultry run.
Anyway, Bryon finished a chicken tractor, minus the wheels. Yesterday, we decided to move it to the garden, where the chicks will live until he gets the fully fenced poultry* run and chick-shaw ready for habitation.
*look for ducks and geese in the future
Once the structure was in place, we thought the chickens would like to try it out. So I carried them over and placed them inside the the enclosed yard section. They looked thrilled, jumping around, flapping their wings, pecking at the dirt and weeds. Then I realized the construction would make it hard to get them out again to bring them in for the night. Besides, would they even want to give up their newfound freedom? We decided, with our recent bout of warmer weather, to let them stay, even though they’re a bit young to move outside. For extra protection, we put a bin inside the roost area, along with a tarp over it. As it got later, the girls made their way inside, and we thought everything was fine.
However, as Bryon checked on the chickies one last time around 9:30, he found them all piled up in the open area, near the water. At that point, he wished he had made a trapdoor, but what could you do in the dark? Knowing it would get colder, we couldn’t leave them there. I climbed into the low outdoor area and on my knees, placed each chicken into the coop, as Bryon handed them to me. Then I put a board in front of the doorway to keep them in place. We left our bedroom window cracked in case of any commotions, since there are a lot more predators to worry about here in the Boistfort Valley than in the Bay Area.
And while I didn’t have the easiest time getting to sleep last night, this morning everything was fine. The girls trooped out when we opened the roost to have their breakfast and later enjoy the sun.
Enjoy this short video of their antics…and stay tuned for more adventures!