Fresh Eggs Daily in 3 Detailed Steps

What if, instead of "reinventing" leftovers, you could convert them to brand new food? Believe it or not, it can be done even in most urban backyards with the help of some feathered friends. Here's a step-by-step guide on how to start keeping backyard chickens.

1. Check Local Ordinances on Backyard Chicken-Keeping

I realize not everyone can have chickens, but the urban chicken-keeping movement sure makes it easier to have a couple of hens in a backyard coop. While city ordinances may restrict the number of chickens you can have (check with the city before you go all chicken-crazy), your coop design and whether or not your girls can free-range, kitchen scraps are a great way to keep chickens occupied and recycle those scraps. You give chickens scraps like wilted lettuce, slimy berries and moldy bread, and they'll give you back a protein source that is rich in antioxidants and long-chain fatty acids. That's a trade you can't beat.

2. Select the Right Breed for Your Climate and Needs

Mother Earth News has a great Pickin' Chicken App for iPhone to help you select your breed. Also, Tractor Supply Company stores now carry heritage-breed chicks in partnership with the American Livestock Breeds Conservancy, which I think is a great cause aimed at preserving America's heritage breeds. The stores carry pamphlets with information about all the heritage breeds they'll be stocking during their Chick Days each spring. Select birds that are appropriate for your setup, and do plenty of research and preparation before you bring your girls home. Local feed store owners are an excellent resource for which chicks are the most popular in your area. They're also fantastic resources for local feed and emergency help.

3. Let's Pick Up Chicks

Love them, feed them, and name them George, and in just half a year or so, VOILA! Insert scraps, collect fresh eggs in the morning. It's a win-win.

(Note: Some people think chickens shouldn't eat meat, which I think is crazy since chickens are omnivores. But, your chickens will eat what you give them. It's totally up to you, so do your own research.)

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?