Eggs
Spring is here. I know because the chicken egg production has skyrocketed. Through the bitter cold winter, when the hens were freezing their little backsides off in the sub-zero weather, the egg production dropped. Two or three eggs a day was common, sometimes the daily take dropped as low as one, or none.
During the long months of winter, when the chickens were housebound because of the deep snow, they nearly went mad with boredom. A chicken needs something to do, and sitting on the roost all day staring at the wall just doesn’t cut it. So they amused themselves by emptying all the hay from the hutches, scratching around in their own manure, and generally making a mess of things. As long as they couldn’t go outside the chickens would continue to empty out any hay I put in the hutches. Rather than waste hay for their amusement, I left the hutches empty and let the hens lay their eggs on the hard board floor of their cubicles.
Then the cold weather finally broke and the chickens could go outside. With one good day stretching into two, and then more, the chicken flock felt the temptings of spring and was taken by wanderlust. The chicken yard is fairly spacious–large enough that I, somewhat untechnically, consider it free range for two dozen or so chickens. However, in springtime the chickens find their yard constricting. Bugs are a favored food of chickens, and early springtime is not a great season for bug hunting. The search for delicious green grass and juicy bugs brings the chickens to the far corners of their yard. It is at this time of the year that chickens are most keenly aware of the “other” side of the fence, and sundry deficiencies in their lives, real or imagined.
A hutch without hay was on the list of complaints. Some of the hens found this state of affairs so unsatisfactory that two of them habitually flew over the fence and laid their eggs on the patio behind the house. One or more also figured out how to get in the pole shed and started laying eggs behind the DR Brush Mower. This was a sign, I decided, to put hay back in the hutches.
The hens’ satisfaction was evident. The day after I put fresh hay in the hutches the hens made several round nests and filled them with eggs. I now collect about a dozen eggs a day, and the chickens are happy.
Chicks
On Tuesday I ordered chicks from Murray McMurray. The current batch of laying hens still has a year of good production left in them, so this year’s purchase is only meat chickens. For the past 2-3 years Dark Cornish was the heavy breed of choice. They’re hardy, and develop a compact and meaty body. This year I decided it was time to try something different. When I hit on a success I’m loathe to change, but as a meat bird the Dark Cornish breed is not all that heavy and I’ve wanted to try some of the many other breeds out there.
This year I choose Partridge Rocks and Speckled Sussex. The choice was based upon described weight, and the fact that I liked how they looked in the catalog. I must work under a certain criteria, because deep down in my heart I want some of all the breed variations. Like a child in a candy store, or a gardener in a plant shop, every bird in the catalog has an allure. I want some of each, to watch them grow, to see what the chicks are like, and what they become. What is the personality of a White Orpington? Or how do the Columbian Wyandottes behave? Every time I raise a new breed of chicken I’m surprised by the differences in behavior, and just about any chicken is beautiful in its own way.
So . . . I like chickens. This year it’s only two new breeds. I’ll have to wait until June 2nd before the chicks arrive.
The Chicken House
The chicken house was the first unsupervised construction project tackled by Teman and myself. As such, it is excellent. It has stud-framed walls, four windows, (three of them hinged,) and a door. In spite of all the good things about the building, there are certain less than perfect areas which give away the first time status of the chicken house. The foundation and location are two such points.
With a base of 8′ x 8′ the chicken coop isn’t big, and as a chicken house it doesn’t need a lot of permanence. For a foundation we put three 4×6 under the base and set them up on cement blocks. This was sufficient in our minds, at the time. Under certain circumstances the cement blocks would have been sufficient, but we built our chicken coop in an area which is very wet during the springtime. This made a half dozen cement blocks a very poor foundation indeed. In the freeze and thaw of winter and spring of every year the cement blocks shifted and sunk a little further into the ground.
For several years the shifting and sinking of the cement blocks was no big deal. To temporarily fix the problem I would take a long 4×4 wooden post and several old cinder blocks and create a fulcrum. With the weight of two adults this lever could easily lift one end of the chicken coop off the cement blocks. While other family members were keeping the chicken house elevated, I would readjust the cement blocks. As an annual maintenance procedure, this worked for several years.
This year the shifting and sinking of the cement blocks was the worst I’ve ever seen. A simple readjustment was impossible and out of the question. With the march thaw and onslaught of mud season the condition of the chicken house foundation deteriorated rapidly. By the time I got around to dealing with the problem imminent collapse was staring me in the face.
I don’t know if the greater severity of the conditions was caused by the very cold winter and heavy snowfall which melted in March, or if the situation was simply becoming worse every year, and this year was the fateful year of no return. Whatever the root cause, it was clear from my inspection that at least one corner of the chicken house was sitting on cement blocks which were rapidly sinking into a soupy mixture of mud. Simply straightening the blocks would do nothing, because they would immediately sink again. Any solution would involve excavation.
To stabilize the situation I had to dig two drainage ditches–one running from each of the forward corners of the chicken house. I then laid a base of crushed cinder blocks and set the cement blocks on top of that. This porous base allowed the water to drain freely and, I hope, will keep a bog from forming beneath the chicken coup.
The front of the chicken coop required the most work, but I had to reposition every corner. The whole process was a mucky mess that took several hours and left me exhausted. But the project still isn’t finished. The ground in front of the chicken house is draining, but now water is collecting under one of the back corners. As this muddy puddle sits there, softening up the ground, the corner is slowly sinking. This means more work. Soon as there is a break in this rainy April weather I must go out and dig another drainage ditch around the back of the coop and down along side. This should shed all the water away for the coop. With no more water softening the ground I should be able to reseat the back corner and everything should be good for another year. The area will be a maze of drainage ditches, but if it solves the problem I’m not going to complain too much.
The moral of this little story is that you should never build a chicken house in the middle of a swamp. While this fact seems all so very grand and brilliant, it wasn’t like I had a million other places I could plop down a chicken coop. Swampy ground isn’t very good for a foundation, but sloped ground is no better for support. Most of the land around here is on some type of slant, and what land isn’t uneven is–yes, you guessed it–swampy.
About a dozen yards from where the chicken house is currently located there is a small section of ground that is both fairly dry and flat. It also happens to be right out the back window of the house, so if the chicken coop were moved there it would be smack in the middle of our view.
That is if I moved the chicken house. While sloshing around in the mud and trying to keep the chicken house from sliding away into oblivion I contemplated moving the infernal construction to some more pleasant location. The only logical idea was a small shift a dozen yards to the left.
In abstract contemplation this may seem like a brilliant idea, but the reality of the situation is more akin to terrifying. A close analysis reveals suggests this pondering might be one of those brilliant ideas Rundy cooks up which turns out to not be so brilliant after all.
My internal argument goes something like this:
With the use of a fulcrum it is easy to lift one end of the chicken house.
Yes, but so?
Well, my mind says, maybe you could rig up some form of skids and lift the chicken house up and slide it along . . .
Maybe, the other side of my mind says. But a far more likely out come is that any attempt to move the chicken coop will go horribly wrong and you will end up tipping the entire building over. This creates the most sobering vision: “Push, push! It’s moving! Ahhh! Oh no!” And crash. The wonderful chicken house is now lying on its side, splinters everywhere, windows busted. How am I going to use a chicken house lying on its side? I’d be the laughing stock of the street, or at least my family.
I’ve had far too many experiences that run very close to this little nightmare. Much as it frustrates me to create half solutions to this water problem, I’m still not convinced an attempt at moving is wiser. Maybe when I own a big tractor. Or a crane.
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