Chickens From A Former Life

When we got rid of the cattle, I needed some sort of livestock to fill the agricultural void.  While I loved the cattle, they were a tremendous amount of work, and worry.  Although I felt I had the best fences in the district, at least once or twice a year, someone, or all of them would be outside our property.  This was never a good thing, as we lived on a very busy highway -- transport trailers every few minutes.  The Mad Cow Disease scare, here in Canada, also just took the heart out of the cattle industry.  Alas years later, the countryside is basically devoid of cattle, where once a herd roamed on every family farm.

I'd always liked chickens, when I was younger, so I went and bought ten pullets and a cockerel -- a miscellaneous selection of rare breeds.  Those first few eggs that fall were just as fun to find, as an Easter egg hunt in the spring.

Blueboy, the original rooster - I don't remember what breed. If you look you can see his little crooked foot, but it never held him back.

Then an acquaintance called us up and wondered if we would take her five Sex-link hens off her hands.  Not one to turn down a freebie, I quickly took the transporting cage and nabbed the five big black ladies.  Of course they were a couple of years old, so their egg production was beginning to drop off.  However fifteen hens do produce a lot more eggs than a family of four can consume.  Next on the list: garner some egg customers, to offset the cost of feed.  Well then it quickly became a vicious cycle.  More and more people loved our farm fresh (almost free-range) eggs.  I had to keep adding to my stock to keep up with the demand.  Not that I minded, I had lots of available space.  I also build several large isolation cages for new birds and to keep duos and trios separate for breeding.

We did this for a few years.  It got so the flock was pretty much self replenishing.  One year I had five setters, two that did it twice.  I soon had a nice flock of Blue Andalusians, as well as trios of Silver Grey Dorkings, Dark Brown Leghorns, White Wyandottes, to name but a few.

Some of the hatch from a school project.

A few weeks later.

Gold and Silver Lakenvelders.

My daughter's bantam trio - they were a teeny, tiny bunch

Mr Silver Grey Dorking - he was magnificent, but old when I bought him at an auction.

And then we started to examine the dotted line.  Feed costs jumped by thirty percent, overnight, and suddenly a break-even proposition was beginning to cost me.  Sure we were producing a superior product, and we could hardly keep up with the demand.  But in reality it was costing me to provide this wonderful product for our friends and neighbours.

One of my repeat setters.

Then came the decision to sell the farm.  Our new location did not have the facilities to run chickens.  So I bundled all my girls up and took them to the biannual Bird Auction.

Every once in a while I get the urge to have a few chooks around, but the truth is, that we can get fresh Omega 3 eggs from a producer a scant mile's walk away for $2.00/dozen.  I just can't justify owning my own at this time. That, plus the fact that I do not have enough acreage at the new place to legally have any livestock (I would have thought 16 acres was enough for a few chickens, but council deems I must have fifty, before I can farm).

The Daily Quest

This is a new daily feature on The Musical Gardener blog. Below is a question, or puzzle that will change day by day. Do not use the comment section of the blog for your answer.

Answer to Yesterday's Puzzle:  Sun Dial Face

Today's Puzzle:

Whozit

Who is the author of this gardening quote: 

Gardens are not made by singing “Oh how beautiful”
and sitting in the shade. 

 
         a) William Shakespeare

        b) Thomas Hardy

        c)  Rudyard Kipling

        d) Gregor Mendel

Please respond with your answer to the email below. I apologize but you will have to type my email address in manually (I'm attempting to avoid spammers).

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And that is about all I have to say for today.

Musings and meanderings from the Musical Gardener.