Chicken Farmer’s Responsability: A Good Life, A Good Death.
A little over three and a half years ago we brought home our first day old chicks. We were clueless, but well informed. The boys giggled while they held the two little feather balls in their tiny fingers as I watched close so they wouldn't squeeze them too tight. That was when it started, this sometimes nagging thought that I may very well have to cull my chickens, if they were sick or if a dog left them half dead. I knew it would be my responsibility, and although I could ask The Husband to do it, if I wanted it done just right I needed to do it. That meant confronting my fears.
I noticed Francisca not quite normal a week ago or more, and she kept getting worse. I knew her end was near and I prayed more than I am willing to admit that God would make it His responsibility to take her so that I wouldn't have to. He didn't, and left the responsibility to me. My fear of having to kill something was then reality.This wasn't just any chicken either, she was the chicken that would come when we called her, when the boys would dig she would stand there waiting for worms, if I sat on the grass she would get in my lap and nest on me.
I called Brad's Rancher grandma and she told me how she did it. I was to put one foot on her wings, the other on her feet and then do it. The boys begged to watch, but I didn't want any screaming kids while I had to muster up courage to even think about what I had to do. I finally told them they could watch from the back door-but under no circumstances could they follow me outside.
Francisca had no fight in her when I lay her on the grass. I then realised how labored her breathing was. It was all the confirmation my doubts needed and I put my right foot on her wings ever so gently and my left as cautiously as I could on her feet. Then I swung. We both shared what I believe was the same emotion-gratefulness, for very different reasons. There is no horror story to tell, I stayed on her wings and feet like grandma told me for 3 minutes or so that her nervous system wouldn't get the best of her lifeless body and that was that.
I had the shivers. Then I went inside and called grandma. She told me she was proud of me and to have a cup of tea. Since her previous advice worked out so well- that is just what I did and tried to not be sad about my favourite chicken.
Today I Became A Real Farm Girl
I have always known my right of passage would be solitary and severe. What I didn't know is that it would come today. The question is, what constitutes a true able-bodied- farm girl and not just a trend follower-backyard farming-enthusiast ? Anyone can have the farm animals, have the land, and give the time it takes to tend and nurture the whole package. That is most certainly not what makes a farm girl.
The make of a farm girl is one who can follow animals and their land through all seasons, not just the pleasant ones. Today a chicken died. The death in itself is not what I am speaking of though, it is that I was able to pick up the body and dispose of it that today made me into a farm girl. I no longer have to have a man to do my bidding, I don't have to wait for him to come home and deal with the deceased bird. Death is-as we all know- a part of life, all life ends in death and I knew from the start that when I was able to touch a dead body that I would have reached that coveted status of farm girl.
We can all follow backyardigans, those trend-loving folk in whose growing circles chickens are trendy right now, growing your own food, subsistence living, and all such stuff. Having animals, feeding them and keeping them alive does not a farm girl make. One of those is made by doing the one thing you can't stand even thinking about, looking at, or touching- not like a girl, but like a farm girl. For me that meant grabbing that chicken by the feet and dealing with the feathery bod, might I say- like a real man would? Yes. I would. No icky tummy, no eyes closed and jumping backwards, no fretting, screeching or crying but just dealing in quick and precise movements. This might not be your right of passage at all, maybe for you what you dread the most of it all would be watching a live birth, or dealing with chicken poo, those all are just not my hardest thing to have to deal with, they don't even faze me really. Death of an animal for me is the worst, and not just death- but even looking at the dead body. Today I forced myself to pounce through that door and earn my right to be there with the rest of 'em. It is now that I am able to take and deal with the full responsibility of my animals. Today I became a real farm girl.
PS. I will let you know when I have become a 'Farm Woman'-as that would entail shooting the chicken and plucking and skinning and stewing it. Let me just say I haven't gotten there yet, not yet.
What would be your most dreaded duty if you have or were to have farm animals??
them chickens!
My chickens, I like them but they are silly-heads! Yep. If you ask me about chickens now I can be honest and not in some sort of delirium about their good qualities ignoring the bad. It really is an amazing thing to have chickens in the backyard. I enjoy their bountiful oval blessings (aka: eggs) but there is another type of bountiful blessing that I don't enjoy. The size of their poo! Yes, seriously. Their poo is about the size of a ping pong ball and sometimes the size of an egg. Yep, that is big.
I am now a bit calloused to it, but not enough to want them wandering my yard. They just make too much mess when I don't give them the boundaries of a chicken tractor. Plus instead of rooting when it gets dark, they come over and peer through the sliding doors at me and my family as if to say, "we'd like to come in, now!". J thought letting them in was a great idea, but then I went on to explain the situation to him: You see if they do come in they would poo all over your toys, I don't think any of us would like that. NO! he yelled.
So, then because they don't roost when they are supposed to, I have been having to heard them like a madwoman after dark to get them back to where they should be. They have to roost (that is when they go in and sleep on a post or pole all together) if they don't they are prey to raccoons and who knows what else that comes out at night.
Anyway, long story short...my chickens will be let out every once in a while, but almost always they will now stay in their chicken tractors. Seriously! Unless someone wants to come clean up some chicken poo!
Do you have a chicken question?? Ask me!
them bungaree chickens!!
For those of you who are more interested in chickens, here is some information on what we did...the process, the building, the obtaining of the birds and their care. Don't let anyone fool you, this is a messy job and when the honeymoon phase wears off the chore aspect really kicks in. Still there is something about doing it yourself, using your backyard (or front yard) to raise food for your family.
I am not the conspiracy type, but still....why are we becoming a society of "I have no idea where it comes from and don't care" when it is what we eat!! goodness.
Here is our chicken saga from the beginning:
*the dream of simplification
*checking out different designs for chicken tractors
and the different breeds of chickens
*chicken tractor construction begins!
*obtaining our local birds (partridge rocks)
*chicken tractor complete!!!
*getting and falling in love with our day old chicks
*day trip to get some EE pullets (easter eggers: the ones that lay green, pink and blue)
*our day olds getting bigger
*partridge rocks named!
*moving babies outside into the grass
*the death of a chicken
*our first egg!!!!!!
*chicken pictures: New Hampshire Reds and EEs or Amerucanas
*soaking in the sun
*STAR, my favourite chicken
*Amerucanas FINALLY laying at 31 weeks!! (blue and green eggs!!!)
*chickens and snow
*TONS of eggs!!! (help!?)
squash abundance
Cooking squash is so easy, and is well worth it. I half or quarter depending on size of squash, and then put it insides down on a baking sheet. I spray the shell with oil sometimes, sometimes I don't.
-Then put it into the oven and cook it at 350 degrees until your knife can slice through the meat of the squash it is done (from an hour to hour and a half...it just depends on how big your pieces are).
-Let it cool and then scoop out all the good tender meat .
-I just pile all of mine up in a large (very large) mixing bowl and then smoosh it down a little . It hardly needs to be mashed as it is really tender.
Then I bag it up in sandwich bags and then put as many of those as will fit into a larger freezer ziplock.
-It will keep for a long time and is great in so many recipes. I love what we call spicy pumpkin soup, and I use it to make a sauce to go over pasta, also really good as a ravioli filling (with some cinnamon, salt and spices) lasagna filling. I like having it in the little bags, as that is the right size for our family.
Do you have any fun things to cook with squash/pumpkin?? I have a freezer full, and can't wait to use it !:) 
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