NEW BABY CHICKS!

SUNRISE AT HOME :)


Aren't these girls sweet? It’s time to start a new batch of chick’s. Over the years, after moving from the suburbs to 5 acres in the Sonoran Desert – think pioneering out west – I discovered the circle of life up close and personal. Our property abuts state land giving us the feeling of living on acres and acres of uninhabited desert and there is a lot of wild life out there.



My children, only 5 and 6 at the time we moved named each and every one of our first 14 chicks that were put in our first pen. Over the years we have battled the coyotes, wild dogs, owls, summer heat, and forgetting to lock the chicken house, to maintain a decent flock. Things we learned: Too many chickens equaled way too many eggs and not enough friends to give them to. Owls can pick up a chicken. The heat of an Arizona summer can kill a chicken. Our chickens actually have a mist system in their “enclosed” yard to keep them cool in the summer heat of 116 F sometimes. Dogs and coyotes can dig under a fence. We learned to dig a fence at least a foot into the ground, and eventually we built a concrete footing and enclosed the whole thing. Our dogs like chickens as much as any one. (I couldn’t bring myself to tie a dead one around their necks, like I was advised, so they would never kill another chicken.)

You can’t check under the little feathers to find out if you have a rooster or not. Imagine my surprise one morning, a few months into my pioneering waking up to some strange gurgling of a young rooster crowing to the dawn –also a misnomer, they will cock-a-doodle-do at 4:30 in the morning every 60 seconds for an hour sometimes -- and 3 roosters is a Bad thing. Also one bad ass Rooster – spurs are much bigger and nastier than I had imagined –named Rocky had to go –-- (my children used their large water guns and trash can lids to go feed the chickens in the morning and fend off Rocky – they were true warriors to behold!) The four of us had to catch him and put him in a pillow case to give away – this was a comedy someone should have caught on tape.

Also found the reason for sayings like “hen-pecked;” they will peck off the feathers on the back of another hen till the feathers are gone- gross –I’ve still yet to hear a good explanation for this one. And “Chicken!” Lordie, those things run from their own shadow! Most of the first batch lived to lay eggs – 8 months by the way- to an egg, and they are small at first, such novices we all were.

Collecting eggs was like a Easter egg treasure hunt for the boys every morning-and me too. Different chickens lay different color eggs, from tan, brown, to blue and teal and speckled, also your garden variety white. After the first and second batch and the massacres by wild dogs, our dogs, coyotes and the Owl the size of a large cat- which came to be known as – “The Great Chicken Massacre of 1995” and so on, the boys learned not to name them anymore - it was bad luck.(ya get superstitious after awhile about such things) We buried Miss Mary who lived through the first and second and third wave of baby chicks. Eventually we learned the hen growing and thriving ropes. We had a really varied batch of good laying hens and couple of Bannies for fun, small little things with feathers all amuck and on their feet. But alas, we went on vacation and the boys forgot to close the hen house door – feathers everywhere the next morning we heard– sigh – started again, but this batch had a couple of hens that would not stop pecking open the laid eggs. Some one said put golf balls in there and they’ll stop – they didn’t. There are two left plus a pretty white Banny who’s eggs are teal. She won't lay anymore because the other two will peck them.

The new chicks, I’m hopeful for. The feed store I buy from gets two different kinds every Friday so my decision is buy two every week for five weeks. I always buy more than I need because of casualties. This week I bought four because they needed numbers to stay warm until they feather out. (I never used to know stuff like that!) The two with the white on top of their heads are Barred Rocks and the other two are Black Sex Links -- Okay – I’ve always been too chicken ☺ to ask why.

One day I’m going to write a book called “Chronicles of a Mountain Woman” and share all the crazy, funny, heart-breaking stories of moving out here. The tarantula caught for show and tell – OMG! That was a first, and the Rattlesnake Summer.

When the developers found this area and a bunch of city folk moved out here some wanted to turn this area into a town, they called us who lived out in the San Tan Mountain region and rejected the idea “the Mountain people,” which most of us found hilarious as it conjures up something in the Ozarks, hence the title. Some of the night stars disappeared with the light pollution. Heard our first siren in 15 years. But still can here the train in the distance. The people that wanted to get away from the city just acted like they were still there, and the waving at your neighbor, even if you didn't know him, you just knew we a were all out here together, stopped. Cars started honking at the people in pick-ups pulling water wagons cuz they were slow --we learned patience out here; I learned who ever you might honk at or pass rudely in a cloud of dust you would meet at the the one and only tinee market for 30 miles. We had to sink a well for water.... but I digress.... yeppers, there is a book there.

Wish these gals luck! And the two older ones that literally will be put out to pasture.