Sisters

Our chicken Sally was forced to spend the brutally hot summer all alone in our backyard because we butchered her sisters when we found out they were actually her brothers. She was very lonely.

Four weeks ago we got Sally two sisters. We found a pair of three month old Delaware hens in Seminole, just down the road from Phelps Farm.

The new girls are white with black tail feathers and gray feathers at their shoulders. They are still smaller than Sally but growing fast. It will be another month or two before they give us any eggs.

Ben was allowed to name the new hens and he dubbed them Phineas and Ferb after his favorite cartoon characters. For the sake of cuteness, Lauren tweeked their names to Hen-eas and Ferb. I still call them 'the white chickens'.

The girls had a good childhood, growing up surrounded by other chicken and hens. However, they had very little contact with people and as a result they are still skiddish. It was tough to get near them for a good picture. Heneas and Ferb are not mean at all, just shy.

The rooster story.

Warning: The following content may be found intolerable or disgusting by many. Viewer discretion is advised.

So, this story is months old, but I still think it must be told. It is just too funny not to share.

Back in May we were still a happy homestead of 3 hens. The two gray ones acted much different then Sally but we just assumed it was due to their different breed. One Sunday morning, we were awoken with a jolt when we heard a crow at sunrise. What in the heck? Hens don't do that. Crap.

We were so sad. So frustrated. Now our flock that we planned on producing around 12 eggs a week (exactly what we need) was down to two. And what were we to do with a rooster? They are illegal in city limits and so we couldn't keep it even if we wanted it.

That very day the darn thing started getting aggressive with the kids and me. Plans were quickly made to "butcher" him. Yes we thought about Craigslisting him or just letting him free at the farm to see if he could survive the coyotes, but Brad just figured if we were to be authentic poultry folk, he needed to learn how to do ALL parts of the job anyway.

We tried to connect with the Rasps that week, but a busy schedule pushed the execution date back to Saturday at the farm. This meant keeping the birds locked up in our laundry room with the kiddy pool over their coop at night to prevent any irritated neighbors. It's just not fun for some to rise with the sun!

The delay turned out to be good because guess what...Friday morning at sunrise that other darn gray one started crowing too. No, I'm not kidding. Lucky guy got to make the drive to the farm too.

Dad wasn't home and Mom was hesitant so it was just up to Brad and I to do the deed. We were so nervous. Brad had thoroughly researched it, meaning he watched way too many youtube videos on how to "harvest" your birds. My job was to hold the birds. It was like they knew their fate. These normally fiesty and fairly aggressive guys stood still so that I could pick them up. They laid forlornly in my arms making me feel like the worst person alive. We walked to a sawed off tree trunk and I held the perfectly still bird, turned my head and shut my eyes as tight as I could while Brad brought down the hatchet. I heard a thud but the bird FLEW OUT OF MY ARMS and started going so berzerk that I thought for sure Brad had missed. I screamed so loud that the workers down at the barn took notice and started laughing, and when I looked down at the flapping chicken I noticed that Brad hadn't missed after all. It had no head. It must have chased us around the yard for at least 60 seconds and then even after it fell over, it was still moving.

I couldn't stop shaking, or screaming, or shuddering. Brad was laughing at the sickness of it all. I ran into the house and demanded that Mom hold the next one. I just couldn't do it. The boys were inside watching George. Ben said, "Mama. We're gonna stay inside because be don't want to see Daddy kill the chickens." No sadness. No disgustedness. Just simple, matter of fact, preference. If nothing else, this chicken adventure has totally desensitized death for them.

Mom held the next one. She freaked out just as badly as I did, but this time I got to laugh at her instead of feeling that "chicken running around with it's head cut off" sensation. Ew.

Next was the "harvesting". They were young birds so we didn't even know if it was worth getting the meat off or not. But again, Brad was all about the experience.

With our ipad in hand, I read step by step instructions to him from the world wide web. You can pretty much learn how to do anything with the magic of google, ya know?

So he strung 'em up in a tree and just did it.

He cooked them for dinner that night. I don't really eat chicken anyway, and certainly haven't since this whole experience, but he said it was good. :)

And now, we only have Sally, who HAS NOT laid an egg yet, and pecked me today, and must just be the most lonely hen ever.

des schatzel, the chick chaser.

Des just loves chasing the chicks. He gets the most mischievious grin and you can tell he's gonna do it, long before he does. He runs straight into the little flock and just chuckles after they fly off in a scurry. He knows we don't want them on the patio or in the garage and when he sees them there he runs up to them, points his finger at them and shouts, "NO!" He's a good little flock herder...even if the chicks are terrifed of him!

And on that note, doesn't he make just the cutest little farmer ever?

the hens?

Every time I upload pics, I am sure to find a few of the chicks that my proud hubbie has taken.

They all three are getting so big and the two grays are much less awkward teen looking and much more pretty chicken. Sally is 3 months and the grays are 2 months. There is still a small chance that one (or both) of the grays may be a rooster, but for now they seem to be girls. This means come August we should start getting some fresh eggs from our cute little flock!

Their new favorite roosting spot...

which is no big deal until my favorite outside seat is covered in poo!