Adventures in Poultry

Throughout our married life, Michelle and I have pointed out things that show we are "established." The day we got a bed frame, instead of just having a mattress on the floor, was a big one. And the day we bought our first shovel. The last major one was probably at Christmas, when we finally strung lights from the top of the house instead of just in the windows.

Well, it's time to put a big, fat check in another "established" box - the one labeled Chickens. Yes, we are now the proud and clueless owners of a chicken coop, chicken run, and six chicks. From the way we latch onto nostalgic back-to-the-farm ways, you can tell that Michelle and I are both several generations removed from actually having to survive off the family farm. But we are excited to teach our kids more about where their food comes from and to give them a chance to take some responsibility for other living things. (Yes, I realize they are 4 and 2, and we're undoubtedly setting ourselves up for frustration.) And if you're one to worry about carbon footprints or the unhealthy and inhumane practices of industrial agriculture, you can't get more sustainable and humane and healthy than eggs coming from happy chickens in your own backyard. 

We got a screamin' deal on the coop and run on KSL Classifieds (it's not just for illegal gun trafficking anymore!) and the fellow was kind enough to haul it to our house when it was too big for the truck we had borrowed.

Then Friday after work, we went down to the IFA store, elbowed our way to the front of the bazillion people crowded around the chick cages, and without any mishap, snagged ourselves six chicks. OK, the "without mishap" part is a lie. While I was in the zone grabbing chicks, Addison was staging a chick jailbreak in an adjacent cage. And Bryn may or may not have been lying spread-eagle on her back at the time. But all 10 of us got out of there in one piece, which I say is a success. Side note: The box you take chicks home in looks an awful lot like a Happy Meal box.

The only other mishap before we tucked the chicks into their Tupperware apartment for the next 6 weeks was when Add got ahold of the Happy Meal box and gave those chicks a case of Shaken Poultry Syndrome. But overall, he and Bryn are doing really well with this new endeavor, and they are thrilled about it all - though not nearly as thrilled as Michelle and me. Next check in the box? We can't decide between getting a garage and beekeeping.

We're banking on the absentee landowner next to us not noticing the chicken coop is on his property.

It's a fancy double-decker henhouse.

Based on expert advice from coworkers and neighbors, we got three white leghorns and three Rhode Island Reds. Both are "above-average egg producers" and together will make for an aesthetically pleasing and culturally diverse brood. We all chipped in to give them names, though we haven't yet assigned them, since they all look the same. The names are:

• Foghorn
• Chicken
• Owl
• Buzz Lightyear
• Barbie Island Princess
• Velociraptor

I rest my case. It's a Happy Meal box.

Huddled under the heatlamp, before they discovered the food and water and spread both all over the bin. In case you're wondering, they will be fully feathered and ugly as sin in 6 weeks, and we'll have eggs come August.