Posts Tagged ‘Laying Hens’
Raising Meat Chickens in Suburbia
From Day Old to Dinner Entrée – If you want to make sure the chicken in your oven is raised well and processed humanely –Raise them yourself!
Most of my friends cringe when I tell them that we raise our own meat chickens and my daughter NEVER tells her friends for fear they will avoid eating over. But, this relatively simple process has become an integral part of our suburban homestead and food storage plan.
I’ve always had laying hens to provide us with eggs for the table and manure for the garden. And, when the girls were too old to lay they got to live out their life scratching around for bugs, churning up the soil and adding manure where ever they went; a mutually beneficial relationship I think.
It wasn’t until my friend Sandy bought and raised her first batch of meat birds that I really started to get interested in raising our own chickens for meat. But, raising 50 chicks seemed a bit too ambitious for a beginner, not to mention someone who lived in suburbia. So, several years ago I began by raising 8 Cornish/White Rock crosses, usually referred to as Cornish Rocks. These fast growing birds are the same breed raised commercially and sold to restaurants and supermarkets either as whole birds or in cut-up parts.
My test project was a huge success! All 8 chicks lived to their 8-week maturity, were healthy and seemingly happy, and the processing of the birds was nothing like I had imagined. When the project was over and we were feasting on own homegrown chicken, juicy and full of flavor I was determined that meat chickens would be an annual crop raised on our little suburban homestead. Read the rest of the story »
Selecting Livestock for your Suburban Homestead
It’s that time of year, folks. SPRING—the time when chicks hatch, ewes lamb, cows calve, sows farrow, does kid and rabbits kindle. A farm is alive with life as each new addition is born. But, as suburban homesteaders can we experience the same pleasures of raising livestock for food and fiber on our city lots just as our friends in the country can? Yes, we can!
Instead of curling up with a poultry catalog, scanning the internet dreaming of what could be or bemoaning what you think you can’t have, why not look into what you can have?
Bringing home your first flock or herd, or adding to an already existing one can be an exciting time. But, there are some things you need to do first. The most important first step, and the one I always recommend to any new suburban livestock owner, is find out what you are allowed to have on your property. Some suburban homeowners will only be able to raise a few rabbits, chickens, ducks or maybe a turkey, while others, like me, on a larger lot with different zoning regulations can have a larger variety – sheep and pigs. Regardless of your situation, you can still raise some of the meat and eggs your family eats, and that is better than nothing.
Including livestock on your suburban homestead is the backbone of a diversified healthy farm system and one that should be seriously considered regardless of your lot size. Even a few laying hens can clean up kitchen scraps, produce eggs and provide manure for the garden. It’s a whole cycle, folks.
Once you have determined which animals you are allowed to have on your property, decide what you want to have and how many. If you are allowed to have rabbits, but don’t like rabbit meat then don’t raise rabbits, at least not for meat. Rabbits for fun and manure is another choice.
The amount of space you have available for raising livestock will also dictate what you can raise and how many. Different species have different space requirements—chickens and rabbits only a few feet per animal, turkeys quite a bit more. As an example, I am zoned to raise a steer on my property, but, with gardens, fruit trees, berry patches and my existing animals I don’t have adequate space available for an animal that will eventually grow to 1000 pounds or more. I am looking into raising a heritage breed which tends to be small, but I may not have enough space for that either, even though I am zoned for a steer. So, I am content with raising meat chickens and ducks, freezer lambs and pigs because I can comfortably house and raise these animals if I raise them at different times of the year.
When you have decided what to raise and have calculated how many of each species you have room for, now is the time to seek out a breeder. Read the rest of the story »
The Mystery of the Missing Goose
When I pulled into the driveway this evening there was a thin line of steel grey streaked across the horizon; that time of day that is well past dusk, but not quite pitch dark. I hurried inside dropped my laptop and quickly slipped into my work clothes. With a few minutes of pseudo daylight left I had just enough time to feed and water before night time set in fully.
I moved around the barn like I was on auto pilot, moving from feeder to waterer to throwing down another layer of bedding. It’s a routine that I’ve done a thousand times over my life; a routine that may have included more animals, or fewer, but a routine that is always the same. Screaming animals get feed first, followed by filling water troughs, then checked over for any signs of discomfort, disease or injury, and this night was no different.
With no lambs in the barn and it too cold to be brooding meat chickens the barn is fairly empty, save for the laying hens and Sophie. In less than 15 minutes everyone was bedded down for the night, or so I thought.
As I walked across the barnyard, breathing in deeply the cool crisp air and admiring a tea stained moon and stars that sparkled like diamonds on velvet I stopped—stopped dead in my tracks. The kind of stop that your body brings about, but your brain can’t figure out why. I stood like a stone, slowing looking around at what might have caused my reaction. I stared at the barn. Nothing came. I looked at the greenhouse, dark and silent, still nothing. Then, as I panned around the garden it hit me. WHERE WAS SOPHIE?
Now, Sophie is a large Sebastopol goose mind you, and unlike a small bantam hen that can easily get missed she is large. Her body is the size of a basketball and she is so white she fairly sparkles in the moonlight. But, on this night she was nowhere. I looked in the barn again. Nothing. I checked under the sweet pea bush (a favorite place). Nothing. I walked and called and peeked and poked, but still no sign of her. In a last ditch effort I stood very still, hands on my hips and called her name, which usually elicits a honk or two, but still not a peep was heard.
As night continued to darken the inevitable began to penetrate my consciousness…she had meet with a predator. There was no more to be done, sadly, so I slowly walked into the house and continued on with inside chores.
My mind kept going over every little detail. I had seen and heard her in the morning when I fed. When I come home from work she is either nibbling grass or sitting by the back door. She’s loud when she hears noise in the driveway or the house. And, when it’s lying season, which it is now, she is too nasty of a bitch to succumb to any small predator. What happened?
As I laid in bed that night I couldn’t help but feel sad. No farmer wants to or likes to lose an animal, but I have to admit that I was grateful for the fact that I would not have any orphaned goslings. We had bought her as a pair with a little gander five years ago, but he died shortly after we got him, so her eggs are not fertile.
The next day the early morning sun blazed through my bedroom window, bringing me out of a dead sleep. There in my drowsiness, that half awake half asleep state I heard that familiar honking. As I bolted out of bed there she was standing in the middle of the yard, bossy as ever. I quickly threw on some work clothes and ran out the back door, but by the time I arrived on the scene she was gone. I looked around, but saw nothing. She didn’t honk when I called her. I didn’t see her anywhere, so I began an inch-by-inch search of the whole place. I knew she was out there somewhere and by God I was going to find her.
After searching all the logical places I crept around the back of the greenhouse, almost on hand and knees. The greenhouse sits at the back of the property almost surrounded by an overgrown bougainvillea on the east side and a pepper tree, in dire need of a trim, on the south side. I worked my way through the tangle of vines and branches and THERE! nestled beneath the low hanging branches and tucked under the tangle of vines she sat on her nest. I was so relieved, at least for a split second.
It had been more than a week since I picked up the egg she laid near the raised vegetable beds. My thoughts immediate went to the number of eggs she could have in her clutch. If she laid one a day, which geese normally do, that meant she could have…1…2…3…4…5…6…SHIT, almost a dozen, if I calculate from the day I found that egg near the garden beds.
Relief is never without its own predicaments. Now I have to “unthrone” her, gather up all the eggs she’s laid and dispose of them because I can’t eat them, they’ve been outside too long, they won’t hatch because they aren’t fertile, but they will attract other animals, and if left too long they will spoil and stink up the place. Yep, there is nothing else to be done, but pull all the eggs out from underneath her. She’s gonna hate that. And, if history repeats itself I will be enjoying the attack of a hopping mad goose every time I walk outside for the next few weeks. Such is life with animals.
I am glad she’s not hurt though.
Autumnal Equinox
It’s September 23rd, the fall equinox slowly jogs across the southern sky towards a time when day and night seem to become equal. From here on days will become a little shorter, the sun will linger a little less; night will come a little sooner.
We’re in an Indian summer here. Not wholly unexpected for our area. The days are warmer than usual and the nights hang still, not a breath of wind blows across our parched farm. I long for the damp cool fog that rolls in from the coast forcing us to wear a sweater while attending to night time chores. It serves as a reminder that October isn’t far off, my favorite time of year.
As the sky turns dusky behind me my mind turns to last winter—long and cold with rain that lasted well into spring. It was not bad, but preparations were not up to par for a winter that lasted so long. It’s September though and we already have 3 cords of firewood stacked. One more will be collected and brought in before the weather turns.
The final market lamb has been sold off. Unlike last year when timing and delays with the butcher forced us to feed lambs well into October, a costly and time consuming proposition.
We will be going into winter with a freezer full of lamb and chicken, along with a larder full of summer’s bounty. The barn will be empty of meat animals, unlike last year when Sandy and I butchered chickens right after the New Year. Cold doesn’t even begin to describe our adventure. Only the laying hens, Sophia, our goose, and one rabbit will join us this winter.
There is still much to do though. The new raised beds are only half finished and the coop and barn still need to be dug out, the contents of which will be the base soil for fall planted onions and garlic, and early spring peas and greens. There’s a barn window to replace and a goose-size nesting box to build. Lamb pens need to be dismantled and re-arranged to accommodate a feeder pig come spring. For most of the year, my entire garden area served as an exercise pen for Brianne’s lambs. But, not now. The wilderness that has grown up will be pulled out or cut down to make way for a greenhouse and new vegetable beds.
The thought of all this work, with winter breathing down my neck, makes me feel uneasy and more tired than usual. But, even I have to admit that cleaning barns and building vegetable beds is a pretty dam nice way to fill a plate. It keeps me grounded. Keeps me busy. Keeps me happy.
Everything will get done—somehow. And, in the end, winter will come and we will be ready for it. You’ll see, a few weeks from now I’ll be baking bread in my kitchen while a storm stirs outside my window. Just you wait and see. Just you wait.
Taking Stock of a Simple Life
Work on the farm ended early tonight, giving us time in the Adirondack chairs, taking in the sultry evening air and watching the sun dip below the western horizon.
We get so caught up in the day-to-day activities of the farm that we miss the chance to just sit and take stock of what we have and what we have accomplished on our little plot of land. But, tonight we lingered, breathed in the smells and tasted bits of the farm as they floated on the cool night air. Stillness makes you think. Gratitude abounds.
4 Market Lambs
12 Laying Hens
8 Chicks
1 Pair Breeding Meat Rabbits
6 Fruit Trees
2 Citrus Trees
5 Yellow Raspberries
2 Red Raspberries
2 Blackberries
4 Blueberries
1 Homemade Barn
12 Pumpkins
10 Tomatoes
6 Watermelons
3 Muskmelons
3 Cantaloupes
6 Butternut Squash
3 Summer Squash
6 Winter Squash
1 14’ x 17’ Garden
2 Roosters
1 Sebastopol Goose
1 Tub of Yams
1 Tub of Yukon Gold’s
1 Herb Garden
2 Spaniels
3 Compost Bins
3 Worm Bins
1 Trailer
2 Trucks
1 Mom
1 High School Graduate headed for college
ONE BIG DREAM!
Plans for the future…
Greenhouse/Potting shed
Asparagus Bed
Artichoke Bed
Freezer Pig
Turkeys
Sebastopol Gander
…at least to start with.
photo credit: BSH Shooter
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Aenean nonummy hendrerit mauris. Phasellus porta.