In which we witness an egg being "birthed" and Chubby gets a cheer

Today Lexi and I got to witness the coolest thing. Well, "coolest thing" being relative to whether you like this sort of farm "event" or not. I was opening the egg doors to collect eggs this morning and noticed one of our Buffs, Chubby, to be exact) was standing up inside the nest box with her rear end facing me. I won't gross you out by describing exactly what I saw, but a midst all the fluffy rear plumage that our Buffs are so blessed with, I knew in a split second that Chubby was about to lay her egg! Standing up! Is this common for chickens? Maybe it was too hot in there to sit or something, I don't know.

Anyway, I am beyond thrilled (because I really love this sort of thing - why I have lived my entire life in the big cities - with the exception of a five year jaunt in Capron, IL- and don't live on a real farm I am still trying to figure out) and call Lexi to come see what is happening. I tell Lexi to be super quiet so we don't scare Chubby while we crack open the egg door and peek in.

And slowly, a little at a time, and much like giving birth (almost exactly, actually), the egg starts to emerge from the ovum. "MAMA!!!!" Lexi whispers excitedly (it's actually more like whisper yelling, but hey, she tried), "THE EGG IS COMING OUT!!!!!!"

And then it plops out all at once and hits the floor of the nest box with a small commanding thud. Lexi picks it up. "IT'S WET!!!" she squeals and puts it down. We wait three seconds while it dries and then she picks it up again. "OOOOOOOooooo, IT'S SOOOoo WARM! THANKS FOR THE EGG, CHUBBY! GOOD JOB LAYING IT!"

And the moral of the story is, everyone needs a cheerleader. Even chickens. ;-)

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City yard, barn yard

Our city yard is both play yard and barn yard at the same time. This tends to startle all the neighbors that walk by the front and do hilarious double takes when they glance over and see chickens and ducks hanging out by the fence (much to our amusement - and theirs!). But walking by the back door and seeing a chicken up on the steps looking inside the house and pecking at the door is pretty normal to us by now. (And Lyla was having a dramatic moment, don't judge my pantless child).

What's not normal for us is dealing with life and death on a daily basis. Last week we lost six of our ducklings. We have theories of why six of them suddenly died, but no real explanation. We made some quick changes to their food and water and thankfully, the rest are doing well now, leaving us with a total of seventeen ducklings. Even though the plan is for them to end up on our dinner table anyway, it just doesn't feel quite the same when we are burying them as babies. It's just plain SAD.

Thankfully, there is always something to be excited about, even with the sadness of the ducklings passing. The first thing is that Lexi can't count past four, so after the first one died, she never knew about the other five. The second thing is that several of our chickens are now laying daily, giving us three eggs a day right now. Lexi is OBSESSED with checking the nest boxes all day long and lets out squeals and screams of delight whenever she retrieves one from the nest. 

Our chickens have also become much "friendlier" since they have reached maturity and we can catch and hold them fairly easily now. Lexi takes advantage of this daily, and makes sure to croon original songs and kiss them while burying her face in their soft feathers whenever possible. ;-)

Chicken before the Egg

Eggs! We finally have our own eggs!

Months of waiting paid off today when we stumbled upon a hidden nest of lovely brown chicken eggs in an incredibly hidden and hard to reach area of our yard. We were rescuing ducklings (again) from our neighbor's yard and found seven eggs in a pile back by where a bunch of ferns grow in between our house and our neighbor's fence. Eric has been suspecting for some time that they might try and lay there, but we have been neglecting to go on regular egg hunts.

After a tedious time of herding the rather brainless ducklings back into the coop (where they will remain locked up for the next few days while we come up with a better solution of keeping them from escaping from all the cracks in the fencing), I climbed back into the fern area and gathered all the eggs in the bottom of my shirt and brought them inside.

I did a float test to make sure all the eggs are still fresh and good to eat (Lyla did the lick test for me, as you can see), and then scoured the yard for other possible nests. I didn't find any, but will be on the look out. For now, I closed off the area to the back where they had laid the eggs and put some false eggs in the nest boxes inside the coop to help trick them into laying there instead. Luckily we had some Christmas ornaments in the attic that ended up looking pretty great with a light brown paint job. ;-)

It should be noted that when we rescued the ducklings the first time this morning I was unable to get them all back into the coop and had to leave the door open. Confident that I had closed off the area pretty well where they were escaping from, I proceeded to go about my day. Little did I know that I would have to herd them back into the yard FOUR MORE TIMES later in the day before I was finally able to get them all back into the coop without getting brutally attacked by the mother ducks. And good golly, are they vicious Moms or what?! There were ducklings EVERYWHERE. In the front yard, under the front porch, in the alley, in the neighbor's yard, behind the rain barrel, etc. Neighbors continued to ring my doorbell just to inform me of the antics of my ill behaved ducklings.

I finally, FINALLY got them all in the coop. Unfortunately, a chicken was in there as well, who I couldn't get OUT of the coop. Note that all this time I am also trying to parent two wild children who are climbing to scary heights on stacked lawn chairs and drinking dirty water out of the duck pool while Sami the dog is running around crazy trying to bite chickens. No joke. So the chicken in the coop won. I gave up, shut the door, and left them in the coop all afternoon while I did life and tried my best to keep us all alive. Apparently I failed a little since when I returned to check on them earlier this evening, we had a duckling fatality, most likely due to the chicken. Lexi happened to be with me when we discovered the duckling had, very noticeably, died. She has horrified, as was I, and we had a brief talk about life while I ushered her back into the house and made a teary call to Eric, who by the way, is out on business all week (of course).

In conclusion, I DID finally get the chicken out of there. I also took care of the duckling that had died and put up the partition in the coop, along with adequate provisions, which will keep the ducks safely in the coop for the next few days, and away from faulty fences and mean chickens.

To celebrate that I survived (and not without my sister's help with the kids this evening), I cooked up the most delicious free range scrambled eggs for dinner (after the kids were in bed of course), with sauteed garden tomatoes covered in fresh herbs on the side, a slice of fresh whole grain bread topped with cheddar made with raw milk, and a glass of cold, fizzy, home brewed Kombucha to fill out the meal.

To eggs, to chickens, to the survivors. 

To life. 

It's Almost Time

I open my eyes to a grey ominous sky lurking just past my bedroom curtains. A chilly breeze blows in the window and I shrink underneath the blankets so only my nose is showing. There goes the beach plans for the day. Isn't it supposed to be the hottest part of summer right now? Maybe I should start reading the weekly forecast.

I slide out of bed and walk out into the living room. Eric and Lexi are already up. Lexi munching on crackers and sitting in front of the old stereo, listening to her Jungle Jam stories with the volume turned low. Eric sits beside her on the couch, working on his laptop. I decide to take a shower quick before the baby wakes up and I lose my chance.

The water is warm and I am lost in my thoughts. The citrusy smell of my shampoo seems to have that effect. I'm in the middle of shaving one leg when Eric bursts through the bathroom door. "BETH, I HAVE AN EGG!!"
I stop shaving. "A chicken egg?" genuinely curious.
"NO! A duck egg!"
"Wait...to eat? Did yogurt finally lay an egg?" Clearly I am confused.
"NO! One of the duck eggs THAT'S ABOUT TO HATCH!!! Better hurry it up if you want to see it while I have it out!"
"Okay, okay! Wait, I'm coming!"

We have been waiting for this day for what seems like forever! The date circled on the calendar is still a few days away, but we are still within the 32-37 day range. It could be any day now.

I jump out of the shower, one leg shaved, the other one neglected, and with water dripping everywhere I hastily grab the nearest thing to a towel I can find. A bathrobe in a size 12 months. Awesome. I dry the best I can, streak to the bedroom, throw on some clothes and then slip and slide back down the hall and into Lexi's bedroom where the two of them wait breathless.

I look at Lexi. Her mouth is stuffed and overflowing with crackers. Really? Maybe I was mistaken on the breathless part.
I look at Eric. His eyes are glowing with excitement. He holds a smooth, glossy duck egg cradled in his hand. It is the color of cream and warm, oh so warm to the touch. The room is dark, except for the one small light that we cover with a piece of PVC pipe to candle the egg. We have been candling eggs since the beginning. About once or twice every week, we wait until one of the moms gets off the nest for food, and then sneak an egg out of the nest box. Then the three of us (and sometimes Lyla, but she probably just thinks we're weird) crowd into the darkest room of the house, which happens to be Lexi's bedroom, turn on the small light, hold the egg against the pipe and assess the egg's development.

But today is different. Today is the day we have been waiting for for weeks now.
"Look," he breathes.
I look.
There inside the egg, all illuminated with light, I can see a rough shape and thump of a tiny heart beating.
Miracle.
And there, there in the space of the egg that is filled with light and oxygen, is a tiny beak. It has broken out of its sack and is breathing air, today for the very first time.
Miracle.
Tap Tap Tap Tap
I hold my breath.
Tap Tap Tap Tap
I gently take the egg, cradling it my hands.
Tap Tap Tap Tap
In my hands, I feel it moving. There inside it's creamy white shell, I see the beak tapping at the walls of its confines. I feel it hitting the shell over and over in a steady rhythmic fashion.
I hold it to my ear.
Miracle.
Tap Tap Tap Tap
"It wants to come out!" I squeal like a toddler, overwhelmed with excited. "It wants to come out! It's going to hatch!!!"
Lexi finally swallows her crackers. "I'M SO ECITED!!!" She yells, missing the X and not caring. "THE BABY DUCKWINGS ARE GOING TO HATCH!!! THEY'RE GOING TO HATCH!!!" She dances around the dark room.
"It could still take a few days," Eric warns, "but I would bet this one will be out in around 24 hours. I need to go put it back in the nest."
"I love it so much," I croon, still holding the egg to my ear, feeling like a proud mama. But I'm not the mama this time. Oreo and Cookies & Cream have made that much clear, and I'm find with that, trust me. The last thing I need is 27 ducklings following me around peeping like crazy. But all the same, my heart swells. It might burst.
Miracle.

Beauty today, love today, and joy today is holding an egg in my hands. An egg filled with the movements and the promise of a brand new life within. Miracle.

More to come as the ducklings begin to arrive!

Parenting with chickens

My girls are endlessly creative.

My 14-month-old is especially creative when it comes to food. I think the Hunter-Gatherer in her has begun to come out now that we are pretending to be farmers in the city.

Do you see this face? It's not innocent, let me tell you.

In the past few days, she has hunted, gathered, and eaten (what I wasn't able to scoop out of her mouth) varying quantities of the following:
- grass
- egg shells (fished out of the compost)
- dead bugs
- leaves
- dry chicken poo
- wet chicken poo (she finger painted in it first, then gave it a lick)
- duck feathers
- dirt
- burnt wood
- an old apple core
- fresh oregano (good choice, I must say)
- rocks
- bottle caps
- plastic wrappers
- dog poo
- seeds
- dog food
- cat food
- and the list goes on...although I do think she may have a taste for poo. No wonder she's becoming such a picky eater. Good thing it's organic poo. (LOL)

Just for the moms out there, I DO worry sometimes that she is going to come down with some crazy disease related to her poo consumption. It's not like I encourage her to do this. Like I said, she's endlessly creative. And for those of you who are wondering why on earth there is so much poo in my yard, that's what happens when you turn your city lot into a "farm-yard"?

Lexi is equally creative, like the other day when she thought it would be a good idea to sit on a chicken. Do you already see how this ends? After the sobbing stopped, we cleaned up the three inch scratch on her arm with the slightly obvious, but none the less needed wisdom, "That's what happens when you sit on a chicken." Both the chicken and the girl are doing fine, albeit slightly scarred (pun intended) from the event.

And she shall be called "Beady Eyes!" Taken in early June, both the chickens and the gardens are now much more plump and full.

Thankfully though, when it comes to food she has a more sophisticated pallet that prefers goat cheese spread on toasted crackers and cherry tomatoes dressed in balsamic vinegar rather than animal poo. Love that kid. She is crazy, though. One minute, a room in the house will be tidy and have that "just cleaned" satisfaction, and thirty seconds later, I look in and can't see the floor. This morning I was watering the garden and came into the house to find that my kitchen had been turned into an imaginative space, where Lexi was mixing up her own concoction of leftover green smoothie in my salad bowl, and picking greens to put in it from off the floor....
Yes, the kitchen floor was now growing grass.
Kidding.
It was just covered in freshly picked grass and oregano leaves.

You might be wondering why she was in the house alone? You can ask her the same question. Clearly it's way more fun to be creative when Mom is distracted with something else. This happens, um, a lot.

I can't get this pic to turn for me. Either way, she's an alive one!

In farm news, Ice Cream is continuing to woo the ladies with his manly waddle and swaggle, and Oreo and Cookies & Cream are continuing to lay eggs. I believe in the two nest boxes, we now have a total of 12 eggs. By the looks of things, we should have ducklings by the first week or so of August! And speaking of babies, LOOK AT MY CUTIE BABY PEAS!!! In a mere handful of days, they emerge from their flowers and dangle on their vines like little green Christmas ornaments.

Also, this steaming beauty came out of my new bread machine (yay for Craig's List!) today. One more check off the list to make Real food a daily reality. Love.

It's what's for breakfast.

Last weekend, on our way home from our weekend away in Door County, we stopped at a quirky farm in Lake County, which Eric had found on Craig's List. We were after one thing (well, four, as it turns out): Muscovy Ducks. 

A funny looking breed of ducks native to Latin America, these ducks don't really need swimming water, barely make any noise at all, live peacefully with chickens, lay eggs, and make an excellent meal (when that time comes).   

We purchased four adults, one drake and three hens, put them in cardboard boxes, set them in the trunk of our car and drove an hour home (yes, this is inevitably how our romantic weekends end...purchasing fowl and pretending to be farmers in the city. I love us.).

So far, the ducks seem to love it here. 

Two of our ducks started laying the other day. We are planning on letting at least one of the Mamas hatch a clutch of ducklings, and see how that goes (plus my daughters are already ecstatic about the thought of baby ducks running around the yard...as am I, who am I kidding?!), some of their eggs are also destined for our tummies. This one we found outside of the nest box. Voila! Breakfast.

Compared to a chicken egg, the yolks in duck eggs are HUGE! 

 Duck eggs, it turns out, are thick, rich, and SO FLAVORFUL. I have never eaten a more delicious egg in my life. Granted, I've really only eaten chicken eggs from the grocery store, so I don't have much to compare to, but really - they are SUPERB.

 I ate my egg with some homemade whole wheat toast and fresh strawberry jam (not made by me, but still lovely). Eating a whole foods diet (or Real Food as some people call it) takes extra time and effort, but it is SO WORTH IT. Food tastes better, because it IS better. And you can appreciate what you put into your mouth so much more because not only do you know where it came from, but the extra effort to prepare/grow it adds to that appreciation as well.

Meanwhile, outside in the coop....

Meet Cookies & Cream, one of our Mamas, who has been hovering around the nest box all morning

Ice Cream, the big white one here, is our drake. He takes full advantage of his harem quite often. And still the ladies won't leave his side. Machismo in duck fashion.

Ice Cream is in the back, herding two of his ladies, Yogurt and Oreo back into the coop since it started to rain (btw, my three-year-old claimed naming rights. Don't you love them?!)

Silly chickens.