The Blessings of Chicks!

Yesterday morning, at 6:15 am, I received the phone call I had been hoping for from the Post Office. My new chicks were in, ready for me to pick up. Driving the 10 miles of country roads to my rural Post Office, I thought about how really cool it was that I could place an order on the internet to a family of Mennonite farmers in Pennsylvania to send me 25 chicks, specially bred and hatched on a predicted time and day, in a specially designed cardboard box, shipped Priority Mail.

The box was surprisingly small, a tad bigger than a shoe box, perfectly and elegantly designed for its job, and chirping with new life. Following the directions from the breeder’s web site, Kevin set up a plastic kiddie pool we had used to house newborn puppies in seasons past, in the garage. He lined it with pine shavings, added a 1 gallon waterer, a chick feed trough with “chick starter” crumbles, and a two clip on lights. We were ready to start raising our own meat chickens.

My family had layers when I was young. My brother was mostly in charge and he sold the extra eggs to my mother’s friends; delivering them on his bike. I envied the pocket money he always had from this job that seemed easier than the babysitting I did. The fresh eggs, like the other quality food I grew up with, I took for granted.

Three years ago, with Kevin sharing my life on this 8 acre farm and doing all the work, we got our first batch of laying chicks. The motivation wasn’t pocket money, but missing the quality food I had grown up with and the satisfaction that comes from knowing that what we were eating was as good as possible in every way. We had the land, so why not use it?

I’ve come to really love my laying hens. They give me more satisfaction for less work and money than any agricultural endeavor I have ever undertaken. They are so easy! You throw some inexpensive food at them, refill their water, and let them out of the coop to pleasantly nibble at bugs and weeds and pests until twilight, when they put themselves away only needing us to shut the door against predators. In return, they present us with wholesome, tasty, beautiful eggs in shades from white to buff to brown, blue and green. At the moment, we have 13 layers of at least six different breeds, creating a kaleidoscope of color around the yard. They make soft, soothing noises, with some occasional squawking, that adds an agreeable depth to the sound ambience of our home.

Enjoying my laying hens so much, I like to talk about chickens, especially with other chicken-raising people. In the childbirth class I just finished, there was a couple (He has a degree in poultry management from Clemson.) who raise meat chickens for some of the area’s chefs interested in local, quality food. They told me about ease of raising super-delicious Freedom Rangers, the breeder in Pennsylvania, and other details about production. I started thinking, “Why am I not doing this?” and got online to place an order.

Five days later, I had my box of babies. We took each one out, dipped it’s beak into the water and set it loose to run around the kiddie pool. They are unbelievably adorable; delicate round puffs with tiny, useless cherub wings. Each one is perfectly engineered to engage my biologically driven urge to nurture. The fluffy flock of them is completely heart-expanding. They will spend a couple of weeks in the garage before moving to a retrofitted horse stall and let onto the pasture to free-range during the day. In 9 to 11 weeks, after a full wonderful life of freedom and good care, we will take them to the processor to become Christmas gifts for our families and our winter’s supply of chicken to eat.

Although I have heard concerned comments about ‘not being able to eat what I raised,’ we feel just the opposite! We are excited to enjoy the buoyant life of our birds and the benefits of eating ethically raised and slaughtered meat that is healthy and sustainable. And I am grateful to all who helped me get to this place of understanding.