I did a very silly thing last fall. On a trip to a farm supply store in a nearby town, I looked into the chick bins. Of course, you know what happened. I came home with 10 pullets. There weren’t enough of a single breed to get 10, so I wound up with eight Red Rangers and two Sapphire Gems.
They were installed in a small coop inside the larger coop and kept warm with a heat lamp for a couple of months until they had grown enough feathers to keep themselves warm. Even then I still turned the lamp on for cold snaps.
Usually, I get Buff Orpingtons. Those birds are docile and seem to enjoy human interaction. Not these new biddies. They were wild as bucks and slightly less friendly than an anaconda. Despite my talking to them, catching them for cuddles and keeping them fed and watered, they were sure I was out to kill them every time I opened the door. You never heard such a ruckus as they ran for the furthest spot from me that they could find, huddling in a corner and vying for the back spot. They didn’t even trust me when I brought bread as a treat. It was as if they had examined my character and found me wanting, or they saw me on the chicken version of ‘America’s Most Wanted.’
Luckily for us, the winter wasn’t too harsh this year and they all survived. Old enough to be released into the hen yard, the little biddies grew and feathered out and became really beautiful birds, most of them red-and-white speckled like the avian sisters to shorthorn cattle.
The real hidden genius in the unplanned plan unveiled itself about a month ago. Those aggravating chicks, bought on a fall closeout sale – because who wants chicks in November? started to lay. And lay. And lay.
Not to be outdone, the older hens also started back into production so that now I am getting around 16 eggs a day.
That is a lot for two people. I do share with my neighbors, and I leave them on my coworkers’ desks weekly. We eat waffles every weekend because they take a lot of egg whites.
I guess next will be quiches and merengue pies. Then I will water glass eggs to keep them stored until next winter when production will drop. Unless I happen by the farm supply store in May and pick up a few more chicks. After all, that is how chicken math happens.