Tag Archives: chickens
Cabin Life – #99
My off-grid, simple living, homesteading lifestyle can sometimes lead me and my thoughts down very different roads than most people. For instance, if you had asked me five years ago, heck, if you had asked me five months ago what would be occupying my thoughts this winter, chicken diapers would not have entered my mind. But here I am, wondering if and where I can get myself some chicken diapers.
Now, I don’t just go around thinking about chicken diapers. I actually have a very good reason for shopping around for just such a thing. It turns out that one of my chickens is in actuality a rooster. Poor old Midget, who is no longer so little, started crowing the other day.
I had noticed some odd behavior a few days ago, but thought that maybe she was just being a jerk to Whitey. I was watching the chickens in their run through the window, and saw Midget jump right on Whitey’s back. Whitey is the one laying eggs, and maybe Midget was just a little jealous. Nope, (s)he was horny.
And much like adolescent males of our own species, Midget’s mounting fiasco was awkward and over quickly. I didn’t really put a lot of thought into it until the next morning. I had let the girls out and was back inside when I heard an odd sound. It happened again quickly, and I easily placed the noise as that of a rooster crowing. I ran to the window to see Midget all puffed up and strutting around. Then he crowed again.
It was not the regal, wake-me-up-for-chores crowing, but unmistakable nonetheless. It sounded like he was going through puberty, with his voice cracking and the crowing kind of unfinished. Instead of cock-a-doodle-do, it was more like cork-a-do. But he was persistent and actually made some progress by the end of the day.
I’m not going to lie, I like Midget. He follows me around the yard when he’s out and has never run when I’ve gone to pick him up. But I don’t want a bunch of little chicks running around either. There’s no way they’d survive during the winter anyway, and I definitely don’t want a bunch of little chicks stuck in a box in my cabin.
And this is what brings me to the diapers. I’m wondering if there is a contraption that will help Midget keep it in his pants, but if not, I’m only left with a few options. Eat him, give him away, or keep him. I could keep him alive this winter, but it will be tough. Without the other chickens to cuddle up to to keep warm, I’ll have to take some extra steps to prevent him from freezing. But I would like to have some more chicks in the spring.
Keeping Midget is the option I’m leaning towards right now, but if I can’t find some chicken diapers, I may end up with big pot of Midget soup.
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Cabin Life – #97
Yesterday morning, I let the chickens out into their run, just like I always do. I sprinkled some food in there and gave them my customary “Hey Ladies!” I’ve stopped trying to keep them in the run, as they seem to get out now whenever they feel like it.
Even so, I closed the plastic over the opening in the run, and went back inside to have some tea. Whitey is far and away my most vocal chicken, and she was squawking up a storm. I looked out to see her relentlessly attacking the plastic covering the opening, and as I watched, she escaped. But to my surprise, she immediately hopped back into the coop.
Normally, she’d be out and about pecking at the ground, but for some reason, she had gone willingly into the coop. I’m not sure why, but I thought that maybe she was laying an egg. I haven’t had any eggs from the girls yet, but I was expecting them any time.
I went out and looked into the coop. She was in there, in the back corner, not making any noise. I opened the door to the nesting boxes, but there were no eggs. I looked back in at Whitey, crouched in the corner in a small depression in the straw and balsam boughs. All of a sudden, I spotted a smooth white shape right next to Whitey’s feet. Sure enough, it was an egg.
But Whitey was still crouched there in the corner, and quite frankly, she looked constipated. Her body was heaving a little bit and her neck was working its way in and out. Unexpectedly, she dropped an egg. It made a dull thud as it hit the make-shift nest, and Whitey looked considerably relieved. She made a few small noises and took a few steps.
In my excitement, I grabbed a small wooden cane that’s been hanging on the porch since I moved in. I used the curved end to reach into the coop to fetch the eggs. Whitey was not happy about this. She started yelling at me as I reached in and grabbed the eggs. The one she had just laid was still warm, but the other was cold.
I can only imagine when the cold one was laid. As far as I know, Whitey is the only one laying, so it was probably a day or two old. Luckily it’s been cold enough to keep the egg refrigerated for me. I washed the two eggs, and later cooked them for lunch. It wasn’t much of a lunch, as these were small eggs. Deep golden yellow yolks made the scrambled eggs look almost like sunset.
They were delicious, though I’m most likely a little biased. But it was sweet to get something out of the chickens other than a peck to the eye.
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First Eggs!
Cabin Life – #95
The chickens have become escape artists. I don’t know how they figured out the elaborate trap of chicken wire and plastic that comprises the door to the run, but they’ve managed to get out for two days straight.
I don’t mind letting them roam around when I’m around. But as the weather gets colder and the predators get more desperate for calories, I’m thinking that the door to the run may have to be reconfigured. It’s sad to admit, but my half-assed door can’t even contain a bunch of literal bird brains.
It is nice to see them out and about in the yard though. They have thoroughly picked over the spots where the run had been, and have even seemed to have found some food left over in those spots. I like seeing them come running up to the front door when I walk out, or see them flying for twenty or thirty feet. They appear to be happy and content, and their tail feathers are sticking up higher than ever. I’m not sure how much I should read into the angle of their feathers, but I heard somewhere that if their tail feathers are up, then they’re happy.
At least they have been putting themselves to bed every night. Usually just past dark I’ll go out and all four of them are huddled up on the perch inside the coop. They snuggle and cuddle and have so far kept themselves warm, but we haven’t had any of those bitterly cold nights. Yet.
Since the solar panel has been working well, I figured I should buy a heat lamp for the chickens. It won’t be long before it gets really cold, and since I don’t want to have four more roommates for the night, I have to heat the coop somehow.
I bought one of those cheap clip-on lamps, an extension cord, and a pack of light bulbs. I honestly cannot remember the last time I bought light bulbs. It felt weird. But I came home and set to installing the heat lamp.
Now, for most people this would entail screwing in the light bulb and then plugging in the cord. That would be the end of it. But for me, it involved almost two hours worth of work which included two hand drills, a hammer, chisel, a new hole in my house and an eye pecked by a chicken.
The only drills I have are two hand-crank augers that I picked up at the junk store in Saranac Lake. For five bucks each, they were a good deal. That price however, does not include time used in actually cranking those things. With an electric drill it may have taken me fifteen minutes for the entire project. But with the low speed of a hand-cranked drill, I could not spin the size bit I needed to be able to fit an outlet through it.
I did manage to make a nice circular mark in the linoleum floor indicating where exactly I needed to remove material. But that big bit was not spinning anymore. So, I pull out a small bit and start drilling. All the way around the hole marked by one bit, I had to make twelve very small holes. After that, I used the chisel to knock out the hole.
I then had to go outside, remove some of the stones that line the base of the cabin, and reach up to feed the extension cord up through the newly made hole. Of course, me crawling around on the ground attracted the attention of the escapee chickens. Midget, who is now full sized, has no fear of me and runs up to me all the time. This time however, she decided that she would be content to just peck at my face while I was on the ground with both hands occupied searching blindly for a one inch hole in the floor.
As I closed my eyes and turned my head to avoid the love taps from Midget, I finally found the hole. But of course, the cord did not fit easily through the hole. I jammed it in there and went inside to pull it through the rest of the way.
I pulled the cord up into the cabin and plugged it in to the inverter. I had left the lamp in the “on” position so that I could turn it on and off from inside just by pulling the cord from the inverter. I proudly plugged it in to see if it was working, and sure enough, it was. I then proceeded to watch two hours of TV on my computer using the battery. As dusk turned into darkness, I thought maybe I should turn on the light for its first night of use. But I had drained the battery watching TV. Luckily, it wasn’t that cold out last night.
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Cabin Life – #84
It’s another beautiful summer night with fall weather. Ed is helping me out by sticking his butt in my face and stepping on random keys on the computer. He’s always a big help in his own way.
We had a bit of a milestone out here at the cabin this week. The chickens are no longer residing in a large box on the porch, but instead are enjoying their new digs and much larger coop. While it’s not quite done, it is habitable and since there are no building codes or inspections for small wooden boxes, I figured the girls could use the room to stretch their wings.
It must be a big improvement, going from a box that almost always had a cat sleeping on top of it to a detached coop complete with nesting boxes and a perch. Not that they’re going to be laying eggs anytime soon, but I have some idea of how they feel. I too live in a small, cramped area with three other living beings. Hey, at least the chicks never had to step in cat puke at two in the morning. They just had to deal with seeing Herbie and Ed’s bellies all the time.
I used an old cart to build the coop, and again, the total cost of the project was only a box of screws. Much like the woodshed, the coop is not square, but it is functional and will keep the birds dry. I’m really happy with the way it’s coming so far, even though I still have a fair amount of work to do on it. I need another door, latches and some small windows still, but it is a big step up for the girls.
I was very happy with myself when I was finally able to move the chicks into the coop. I should have done this a while ago, but they seem happy in their new home now. As I stood there in the sun, smugly enjoying the non-masterpiece of carpentry I had just completed, I thought how nice it would be when I get the one wheel fixed and can move the coop so it butts up against the chicken run we built a while ago.
The thought occurred to me that the girls will be very happy when they have a nice safe outdoor area right next to their home when I realized that I had never actually measured the coop and the run with the point of seeing whether they would fit together. My shoulders drooped and I ran inside to grab the tape measure.
Obviously I had measured each structure while I was building them. But building them so they would fit together just never entered my mind, even though that was the plan all along. Maybe I shouldn’t have built the run two weeks before I got chickens and then built the coop two months after I got them. I should have built them together.
I measured from the ground to the roof of the coop on the back side and got forty-two inches. I literally ran around the cabin to the run and measured from the ground up to the lower edge of the top of the run. Forty-three inches! I couldn’t believe my luck and I was ecstatic. My shoulder’s drooped again as I had another realization. The run was tall enough, but was it wide enough? I measured the width and ran back to the coop.
I knew on my way that it would not fit, because the coop was forty inches wide without the roof, and the run was only forty-one inches wide. Sure enough, the roof width was about forty-four inches. With the overhang of the roof, I was not going to be able to fit the coop snuggly inside of the open end of the run. Thoughts ran though my head as I pondered rigging chicken wire around the sides to keep the girls safe. There was a quick mental image of a new door built into the run so I could access it. But I want to be able to move the coop and run. This was getting complicated quickly.
I stood there, slightly dejected staring at the coop as if an answer would suddenly pop out of thin air. I ran through multiple scenarios, each more work than the last, and far more complicated than I really want to get with this whole setup. Suddenly it dawned on me: I own a hack saw. I can just trim the back of the roof so that it still fully covers the coop but allows me to slide it into the end of the run. Problem solved!
I grabbed the hack saw and walked back out to the coop. Then I remembered that the girls were in the coop, and using a hack saw on the roof probably would not be good for their psyche or their hearing. I’ve held off on trimming the roof, justifying it by saying that the girls need to stay in there for a while to get used to it. Plus, I can’t move the coop right now anyway because of the busted wheel. That’s what I’ve been telling myself anyway. It’s a lie, and I could do the roof right now. But I spent a lot of time on this coop, and I kind of need a break. If anyone asks though, it’s because of the girls’ hearing. Yeah, their ears, that’s it.
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Cabin Life – #79
It’s been the kind of week where I am just awash in babies. This is not a bad thing, although it is a far cry from my normal lifestyle. I’m sitting on the patio of my brother’s house in Orlando, Florida, waiting for my niece and nephew to wake up. Their official greeting of spit-up all over me was warm and gracious, if unconventional. But trust me when I say that the two month old twins are too cute to be upset with.
The other babies I’ve been seeing a lot of lately are my chickens. The four of them are staying in Amy’s garage while I’m out of town, but I got to spend plenty of time with them before I left. Amy took her seven larger chicks plus one very tiny chick and put them in her new coop. That left my four little girls to themselves in a heated cage. Once I’m back, though, the girls will be my responsibility.
It’s amazing to think that just a week or so ago, the chicks were on a farm somewhere, being raised under heat lamps along with what must have been hundreds of other chicks. Then, someone grabbed a couple dozen of them, put them in a cardboard box and mailed them out. Amy had put together the order with a few other friends since none of them actually wanted two dozen baby chickens. Her share was five chicks.
But after getting seven chicks that were hatched at the elementary school in Saranac Lake, she realized that all seven of them were going to be hens. The school hadn’t sexed the chicks and Amy figured a few of them would be male, and that the extra five mail-order chicks would be used to replace the males of the group. And when all of the original seven turned out to be hens, she asked if I wanted the mail-order chicks, and I said yes.
Getting to see and interact with the chicks has been fun and exciting. I hate to admit it, but I already have a favorite. I don’t know what breeds or varieties they are yet but for some reason the brown speckled chick has grabbed my attention. I don’t want to play favorites with the chickens, but I can’t help it. Luckily, they’re chickens and I don’t think they’ll notice.
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Cabin Life – #78
Well, there’s finally been a bit of a break in the rain, and even though the bugs are bad and the hammock is soaked, I’m really enjoying sitting outside in the sun. After spending the last couple of weeks cleaning up the yard, I’m about ready to move on to another project. Fortunately and unfortunately, my next project has a deadline of two weeks. That’s when I will be getting chickens, and I’ve got a lot to do before they get here.
During my yard cleanup, I actually dragged something additional into the yard. Back behind the woodshed in the brush was an old trailer with a wooden box built on it. One of the tires was flat and the frame of the trailer is not square, but I pulled the trailer out into the open hoping to find a use for it. The wood of the box is largely rotten and covered in moss, but other than not being square, the trailer is in good shape and when Amy asked if I wanted some chickens, I realized what I could do with the trailer.
I’ve taken care of chickens for friends, and they are not a lot of work. My biggest concern out here is that I am just going to be providing a free meal or four for some predator. Bears, foxes, coyotes, eagles, raccoons, and owls are just some of the predators that could cause me problems. But the chickens will be farm animals, not pets, and if they get eaten, then I will move on with my life. I’ll do my best to provide them with food, water and shelter, but am not going to worry too much about them.
The first thing I’m going to do is to build a fenced in and roofed run for the chicks. They will only be about a month old when I get them from another local couple, and to buy myself some time, the run will be where they spend their days, and the wood shed is where they will sleep. I figure since they won’t be laying eggs anytime soon, I’ll have a week or two after I get them to finish up the coop.
I’ve never built a coop before but have seen enough of them to have a good idea of what I want. That old trailer will make them safe, warm, dry, and mobile. Since the coop will be on wheels, I can move it as often as I want. I’m not sure what I’m going to do this winter, as it will be hard for me to keep them warm. Hay bales and hot rocks might get them through, but if not, I’ll put them out of their misery. I’m looking forward to fresh eggs and the chickens eating lots of bugs. I just hope that they don’t get eaten before I get a chance to eat them myself.
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