Ode to a Mama Chicken (and free chicks)

Chicken math is loosely defined as the inability to ever have “enough” chickens, and the assurance that your chicken population will increase to meet and exceed the space you have available for housing said poultry. I've never really liked chickens and was even afraid of them before we raised our first chicks, but once I got used to having nearly a dozen fresh eggs everyday, I got way over it. I. Love. Chickens.

This year, I had enough chickens to fill the free coop on our place, but the problem was, the brooder was empty. We couldn't have that. I bought 15 new chicks (five of which are little fluffballs that I splurged on just for fun) and set up the brooder, and the next day I had a hen go broody. Her name is Bertha. She's a Buff Orpington, a super fluffy yellow chicken, and she growls and is uber-offended when I take her off her 11 eggs once a day so she will eat. She chases us, chases the cat, chases the dog and the other hens. (The rooster is in solitary, awaiting his trip to freezer camp. That change is, I'm guessing, what made her decide to raise babies while she could.) It has become a source of great enjoyment for all of us to watch Bertha get all mad and fluff up her feathers and cluck, and Lord, don't let another hen think she's going to sit on Bertha's nest. It sounds like a chicken massacre with all the squawking and growling and indignant screaming. (Yes, chickens scream.)

Broody Bertha, well-rested and giving me the "stink eye."

So this morning when I got Hubs and the elder bambino off to school, the younger one and I started preparing for hatch day this Friday. We got a regular old cardboard box, turned it on its side and filled it with shavings, then attached it to the floor of the coop so the babies wouldn't have far to fall if they fell out of the nest. What surprised me was that Bertha was off the nest when I went outside to let the girls out. Then I heard the most ear-splitting growl/screech you can imagine, and realized that the eggs were still nice and warm... under another hen. She was warning me to back off, because this egg-sitting is serious business. Apparently, after 17 days Bertha got tired of doing this whole thing by herself and needed some time off, so she hired a surrogate broody to give herself a break.

Sounds like there's a lesson there, doesn't it?

Cheep, cheeper, cheepest: Three phases to the cheapest eggs, ever

There's just nothing better than free stuff, and that's how I got on this whole chicken kick that's taken over our homestead. In my search for cheap protein sources that weren't beans, I learned how complete the protein in eggs is, and how cheap it is per serving. I think for a dozen eggs at the store, when I caught them on sale, they were around 8 cents a piece. Even at regular price, 10 cents for 12 grams of complete protein is nothing to sneeze at. But, I also knew how OLD store eggs are by the time they get there, and I thought if we're doing the fresh-food thing, our eggs should be fresh and free-range, too. (No WAY was I paying $4 a dozen for organic, “cage-free” eggs at the supermarket. That just means they're all shoved into a closed-up barn all together, anyway.)

Phase one of the egg project was a small step: I started buying local eggs at the feed store. People around here whose chickens produce more than they can eat, sell them for $1 a dozen to the feed store. The feed store sells them for $1.70. It messed up my pricing because it wasn't the cheapest, but this concession was worth it to me. I mean, have you ever tasted a fresh egg? No way would I ever buy store-bought eggs again. I am such an egg snob now.

So a few months passed, and sometimes the feed store had eggs and sometimes they didn't. I kept cruising Craigslist's free postings, and came across an ad for two free chickens. Aha! We loaded up and drove 40 minutes to see these chickens, which were what was left of a classroom hatch that a teacher was giving away. She had one of those nifty chicken tractors that allow chickens to free-range just by moving it to new grass every day, and when I complimented it, she said, “Take it.” She gave us feed, feeders, waterers, the chicken tractor, and two young chickens, and that's how we moved into Phase Two of the egg project.

The free tractor coop, with chickens snugly in the upper level during a freak Texas snowstorm.

Our first egg was cause for celebration; we took it to my parents' house, fried it up and everybody had a bite. It was unbelievably awesome. Before long, I found a big coop (free) and raised my own baby chicks that I bought at the feed store when I bought eggs one day (Enter: Phase Three). We've had lots of chickenish adventures and chicken poop on the front porch every day, but the best part is having so many awesome, free-range eggs that I've been giving them away. (We've also had a couple of tasty roosters, but that's another story.) And yet, we're not done: we have 15 new chicks in the brooder and – wouldn't you know it? -- a broody hen sitting on 11 eggs in the coop. Time to find a new free coop or two...