ROCKWALL,TX. (July 16, 2014) Compared to her older brothers, my daughter is unique: they are athletes; she’s an artist, barely noticing a ball. They are rough, a little wild (Huck Finns and Tom Sawyers around here); she is quiet, shy, and reserved (Becky Thatcher). We’ve had her involved in art classes, but she needed something else, something more to teach her responsibility and commitment. Then I had a crazy idea… chickens, she could raise chickens for eggs.
It came out of nowhere, I know, even my wife thought so, but in all its craziness, it made sense. Irelandloves animals, is determined to be a “vet-nar-i-an,” so this would be an actual opportunity to take an animal from real young, raise it, and see how it contributes to our family. Farm houses and pastures surround us so a few chickens would add to the country-ness of our back yard. In February, Holt Ranch and Feed hosted a “chicken seminar” to teach about egg-laying hens so we signed up immediately.
Egg-laying breeds are vast and our choices ranged from four: Rhode Island Reds, Rhode Island Whites, Barred Rock, and the infamousAmericanathat lays pink, green, or even blue eggs. We bought eight chicks, two of each, each two days old. With baby chicks, there’s also need of a plastic tub, heat lamp, feeding trough, water trough, and bedding. Gathering our meticulously scribed notes and all the equipment,Irelandand I began our journey.
She insisted that her “babies” sleep in her room and she woke up each morning talking to them and playing with her toys in their presence. Daily we fed and watered; weekly we cleaned and held the little gals, and constantly I charted the date to put them in the coop, which by the way, needed to be built. When their big feathers came in (so they would be warm enough), I started the design, and then for the first time in my life I constructed a chicken coop from scratch. Sporting two floors and tons of space, we nicknamed it the “Taj-Ma-Chick-Hal” and nearly cried the day we put the girls in it, but they took to it pretty quick despite their chilly first night.
Who knew chickens could teach anything? Being the animal at the bottom of the food chain (everything likes chicken right?), what lessons could anyone learn?
For one we’ve experienced the connection and reliance we have upon the rest of creation. Most moderns have nearly severed that experience entirely, getting 100% of our food from the store. Yet, once you start raising your own, watch your sweat and sacrifice harmonize with natural life, gratefulness and respect follow. Instead of just going and buying eggs, we feed our chickens, give them plenty of water, check on them daily, protect them, and in turn, they provide us eggs. It’s hard to explain but you eat differently when you’re involved, savor a bit more, enjoy the satisfaction.
Patience and planning are constantly before us now. Since most of us get everything instantly, or even get frustrated when we have to inconveniently take another trip down the street for eggs, we never realize that it took way more time, energy, and inconvenience to get those eggs than a mere drive down the road. It’s 18-20 weeks before that little chick matures enough to lay eggs and even then the eggs are tiny, sporadic, and at times misshapen. To have chickens lay healthy eggs they must eat and drink well, experience little stress, and stay cool and protected, bottom line: the happier the chickens, the better the eggs. For us, we check the coop each day, scan the weather, watch the forecasts, and plan accordingly, and thenIreland and I go to work.
Is it worth it?
When my little girl’s face beamed with pride holding that first little egg, when she grinned from ear to ear knowing that her work and her chickens helped provide food for our family, oh, yeah, it’s worth it. I’d get eight more for that. She took that little egg and “called it” for breakfast the next morning and that has never happened in her life of seven years. Now, that’s appreciation, and heck, she slept with the little things for six weeks, surely she deserves it.
By Blue Ribbon News special contributor Scott Gill of Rockwall. a teacher, coach and author of Goliath Catfish. Follow his blog at scotttgill.tumblr.com.
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