Every time I tell someone I have a couple chickens they invariably ask me if I got them for eggs or for-- nudge, nudge, wink,wink--meat. In all reality, I got the chickens because I'm a pushover and several second graders asked me if I would take some home. I wound up with three, one of whom turned out to be a rooster, again because I'm a big pushover. I did draw the line at the rooster once he progressed from croaking every morning to full blown crowing--I just couldn't have it. Luckily, he found a home even better than mine, leaving the two hens to grow up here. They hatched in May so I expected eggs some time in November. It never happened. Then it was Christmas, and it was cold, and I left to go see family on Christmas Day. I figured there would be no egg action until it warmed up. I talked to my partner on the 27th, and he said that eggs had been laid. Yee Haw!
I was surprised to detect a thread of self-sufficiency in myself, imagining a world where I was depending on my chickens to barter my way to a better station in life...curses the departure of the rooster. Here's what they looked like when they first got here, but they changed quickly and dramatically.
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