For future reference, chicken charlie is a charming euphemism my father uses to refer to chicken excrement. I will be blogging primarily about my new little flock of chickens and also of anything else on my mind. My husband has been encouraging me for months to blog, and I do appreciate his efforts; also I harbor suspicions that he is tired of listening to me prattle on about my brood.
So, for anyone who cares, my day-old chicks were mailed (yup) to me on March 15, and I recieved them on March 17 of this year. We ordered them from MyPetChicken.com, and they are great. One of my little Dominickers didn't make it, but we were refunded accordingly. They lived in Spare Oom until they outgrew my largest cardboard box, and then we moved them out into the carport in a biddy pen perched on sawhorses. After much gnashing of teeth and tearing of clothing, the chicken coop and yard was built (thank you Paw-Paw) and the ladies moved in. Yes, this henhouse is rooster-free, and no, you don't need roosters for eggs. See Chickens for Dummies. Taught me all I know.
On August 2, a mere 20 weeks from hatching, I found two blue eggs in my laying boxes. So Proud! My Easter-Eggers are good producers; they put the Rhode Island Reds to shame. (4 Easter Eggers, 4 Rhode Island Reds, and 3 Dominickers).
I cannot express the satisfaction I get when I see my little flock rush out of the coop at the sound of my voice. They are such funny creatures! My children have already integrated them into the family, especially my girls, who save bits of lunch and supper to take out to the chickens.
So, for today, the egg count is 6 so far.
Rachel, I have enjoyed your blog and your chickens. We had chickens when I was a kid, but somehow I overlooked the humor and fun that you see... but it was work to me as a kid. I use to have a pet chicken named Tweety Pie, she was a rock island red. Every morning I would run to the gate and she would meet me, I would let her out and she would follow me everywhere, however Granny, your great grand mother, wisely would not let me bring her in the house. I had her for several years till that fateful night that Mr Ray came to buy a couple of chickens off the roost. The next morning no Tweety Pie met me at the gate, where was she??? Granny guessed that Mr Ray got her by mistake.. by the time we contacted Mr Ray, Tweety Pie was already in the pot with dumplins... that was the end of my love affair with chickens, live ones that is!!
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