Appropriately this is my first blog since this week we have mothered our two first baby chicks.
(Aside)
I've always meant to write in this blog but never felt I was as poetic or as fluid a writer as my co-blogger (oh and husband). But I decided that I am who I am and though it won't be a page turner, it is simply what's going on in my little world right now.
(and back)
A few weeks ago two of our hens became broody and we decided that we would just plop a clutch of eggs, 9 to be precise, under her and see what happened. We've never let them set on any if them because we were fearful of failure and having to see the lil' babies be tortured by the other hens. We said "why not" this time. It comes at a strange time though considering we were just given 20 new chickens to take care of. We were given 6 Americana chicks by a family member with a less than happy landlord and we had already accepted a deal for 12 black stars from a friend who's daughters were doing them for 4H. They however were given 12 extra chicks and were generous and gave us two more for free!
OK, math time, not my strongest subject but here we go...
13 black star Hens (original brood +/- some here and there) "chickens"
1 rooster ( Americana - thought he was a she)
6 Americana's we call them the "cheens" - "teenage chicks"
14- 4H black stars - "chicks"
34 total now
And we are possibly adding in 9 more? We must be crazy right?
About 21 days after we let the momma hen set on some eggs (yes I meant "set", to those in my family who live to correct my grammar, you know who you are), we see some activity.
Not the kind we wanted though. We aren't exactly sure what happened but we see one in the coop being shared as a meal between the other hens and one in in the nest with the momma who just didn't make it.
We keep checking for signs of life that day and the next day Rick calls and says "don't forget to check on the eggs". I hadn't really thought about it and didn't give much hope to any successful hatching. However, I went out and heard some very faint peeping under the super fluffy protective mother. I lifted her up and there was a little tiny hole and a beak peeking in and out. When the momma saw it she immediately rared her head back and stabbed at it a couple times.
I don't know much about hens and mothering but I don't think it is very motherly to try and silence the "peeps"coming out of your offspring's protective housing. Remembering the previous day and the previous two chicks who were treated as snacks, I went into Mother hen mode myself. I yelled "nononononono" and without any thought shoved her out of the nesting box. Whoops. I had grabbed a sand box bucket and put some wood chips in it before I came outside, so I nestled the lil' egg in it and ran inside, it was a tad bit chilly that morning. I put it on the table and grabbed the heat lamp that was used previously for our "cheens" and yelled for the girls (Lilly Beth and Ava my niece) to come see!
I held the heat lamp above the bucket for the duration of the unveiling. The girls "ooooh'd" and "aaaaaawww'd" and gasped at every movement and sign of life! They also were so into watching and seeing everything that they kept forgetting about the lamp and burning their foreheads. "ouch, I burned my head" then giggles followed. She hatched herself ( I am assuming it is a "she" because the egg is round which usually means pullet while the more pointy eggs are usually cockerals, how appropritae right?...) with little assistance in about 20 minutes. It was the sweetest thing to see this little bitty soggy peeper come out of this tiny shell.
She teetered and wobbled around for a minute or so at a time and was just so completed exhausted she would go limp and pass out wherever she stood. It was an amazing thing to see, the first official "citizen" born on the Lansdon Farm! This was OUR lil' baby bird, not from someone elses' eggs or from tractor supply, but ours!
I keep checking on the remaining eggs under the hen almost every 20-30 minutes driving myself crazy with worry that I might not make it in time to save another. So, I bring them inside and nestle them in the bucket, who ever thought Lilly Beth's beach bucket would be so useful!
Two days, 57 temperature checks, 23 Internet searches on DIY incubators, spritzing eggs with water, lid on lid off, lid on lid off, and losing hope of any further life I decided to listen to the eggs. Kinda like hearing the ocean in a conch shell, egg to ear, eyes moving around "listening" (as if it helps to hear by looking around) .
And then.... "Peep peep tap tap tap", Wowza! There is another one!
About 8 hours of "labor" after the first Crack in the shell our new chick is born, we helped a tiny bit because we wanted to make sure it made it out before we had to leave for church that evening. It probably would have done fine by itself but I figured after 8 hours of being cooped up smelling the outside world (and it's own bottom) that I didn't think it would mind a little assistance.
I will admit in the shortest version possible that we did have another born, to soon, not formed all the way that survived about 6 hours and then rested peacefully under our old strawberry bed.
We still have 4 more in the sand bucket, still waiting for their moment to peek out of there shells and see the world. We have been blessed, 2 out of 5 isn't bad for never having done this before.
36 chickens and holding. We hope and pray that the some if not all of the others will make a healthy entrance into our family!
I thank the Lord for letting me experience this and that Lilly Beth has seen life being brought into the world and she has also seen death. Although she does not understand either, she has experienced them and will be more appreciative when she does understand. After the second chick was hatched successfully she said "Thank you Jesus for our new happy chick". She loves all of her chickens and wants so badly to hold the littlest but is content with wrangling the chicks and cheens and occasionally picks up one of the big hens and totes it around.
It's funny, she goes through stages of fear and love for the chickens. When we first got them she would chase them around and try to pick them up though she was too little. She would walk around the yard with them surrounding her with no fear, but bring a piece of pizza outside with you when you are as tall as the chickens, that will strike fear into the bravest of the brave.
Poor thing, she tried to hold it above her head and they just jumped up and pecked it out of her tiny grasp. She ran screaming to the safety of her hysterical parents. What?! You'd have laughed too at this spectacle. What's the point of having kids if you can't laugh at their folly, my parents did the same to me and I turned out just fine (no comments are being accepted at this time...).
She is now on friendly terms with the chickens. She totes them around and lets them stand on her head. Her favorite is one of the cheens we named Deborah. All the cheens have names because they are identifiable. Ruth, Ester, Jezebel, Delilah, Deborah and Dorcas, all women of the Bible. Some of the others have names as well, but only for a flaw or a quality of annoyance that we can identify them. For instance; Connie, has one crooked toe on her left foot, as does my mother-in-law who also happens to be named Connie, what a strange coincidence (hehe). The rooster is named Olof with his snow white sister Elsa, or Calamity b/c she is always causing a ruckus, or skinhead, appropriately named because for some reason the other hens don't like her and rip the feathers out of her head. She roams about the yard freely and does not play well with others.
I love our farm and our home and the lessons we have learned on the value of life. Losing animals to unexplained circumstances, having to decide to take a life for the betterment of our farm ( the devil rooster who attacked Lilly Beth and I non stop), and just being responsible for things other than ourselves. Being on the farm and dealing with life and death helps us be closer to God and understand his original purpose for us on this earth. We are here to serve him and take care and appreciate all life and all he has given us. We are to share his love with others and be good stewards of all the things we have temporary custody of, even our daughter is not our own but a gift we have been given charge of and to lead her into the path of servant-hood to our heavenly father. I pray that we show her his love and truth everyday and I am thankful for the avenue he has given us to do so.
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| Tootles was lonely and peeped for a new friend... |
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| ...and God brought her a little sister/brother. We have yet to name the yellow/striped one. |
"So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female he created them. And God blessed them and said unto them, Be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth." Genesis 1:27-28
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