Tag: eggs

A chicken in the house and other stuff…

~ Crystal Sands ~ 2 Comments

Last fall, we ordered some chickens from a hatchery, which is against a rule I made a few years ago, but Ron insisted I needed some babies to cheer me up. They are the sweetest little chickens I think I have ever seen, but one of them came a little runty and sick. She seemed to hang in there okay though until recently. She got into the sick chicken pose and was sleeping in the corner of coop, so I brought her into the house. Her name is Bernice, and she has made herself quite at home.

She walks around the house, pooping periodically, so I have to go behind her and clean pretty regularly. It’s fortunate the cats sleep throughout the day, as they probably wouldn’t be kind to Bernice–at least I am pretty sure Betty would not be. Bella would be curious, but Betty might be too curious.

I am not sure Bernice is going to get better. I have been able to treat some of her symptoms, but I think there is something deeply wrong. Ron keeps thinking she’s getting better, but I am not as hopeful. I am just resigned to the fact that she seems to be enjoying herself and likes the wood stove and maybe is going to get to spend the last weeks of her life getting pampered. I hope I am wrong about her.

I don’t know if you remember Luna, our runner duck. A little over three years ago, when Bairre was a puppy, he ran over Luna and broke her leg. Luna had to live in the house for months, and I fell in love with her extra. She loved to pretend fly (since she couldn’t walk, I would carry her around and she would flap her wings like she flew where she wanted to go), and when she was resting, she would sit in her bin and watch television with me while I graded papers.

She’s eight years old now and seems to be winding down. I saw her sitting outside alone yesterday and the day before. I have checked her everywhere, and I can’t see anything wrong. I was hoping she had bumble foot, but she doesn’t. I think she’s just getting really old. I was so down about Luna last night (that plus the apocalypse, I think) that I think it triggered another long COVID episode, which is both miserable and frustrating. I’m having a really slow day–hence the time to write.

But it’s not all bad news around here. There are good things, of course.

I finally figured out how to make sourdough bread! It has been a journey, and it took me about ten loaves to figure out how to do it well with my limited equipment. It was worth it! It’s so good and so beautiful, and I am more than a little proud of myself. I will have to write about it more soon.

And the new hens started to really lay this month, and the eggs are beautiful. We have two little Cuckoo Marans, and they lay the most magnificent chocolate eggs. Also, one of them, Genevieve, still lets me pick her up and give her a hug. I adore her. The turkeys also started laying eggs, and the eggs are gorgeous. I am a huge fan of speckled eggs, so I am just so proud of these turkeys and their art.

Oh, and my son, the cellist, won the state high school concerto competition a few weeks ago. I was so happy for him. Interestingly, however, I found myself not only extremely empathetic to him but to the other kids as well. I sat in the front, so I could get a good video of my son for an audition for a radio program. Because I was so close, I could feel all of that energy–like too much. I was especially panicked for the kids who were playing from memory. As I have mentioned, my son also has long COVID, and it causes some memory issues. This makes me just have a kind of terror when he has to play from memory. Somehow, that terror applies to other people’s children as well.

There was one little boy playing who seemed to get a little lost for a second. My whole body tensed up as I did everything in my witchy power to will him to remember his spot. He remembered and pulled it together and kept playing. I was so relieved. I don’t know if I helped him or not, but for real, I was spending some energy on it.

Needless to say, for about three days after the concerto competition, I could barely get off the couch, but I was still so darn happy for my son and so darn happy all the kids played so well.

I hope you are all doing as well during these hard times. Sending love to you all, and I hope to see some of you Sunday morning when I’ll be talking about gardening.

The Misfits (or the Beautiful Diversity in Nature)

~ Crystal Sands ~ 6 Comments

I have a carton of eggs that I keep in the refrigerator just for us. I labeled the carton “The Misfits.” These are the eggs that come out very small or unusually large or with a strange shape or maybe they are a pale color and the poop stains the shell even after I wash them. I have often thought about how much I love these “misfits.”

They are not the perfect eggs from our flock in dark brown or light cream or blue-green with a beautiful shape, so I don’t put them in the egg cartons that I sell to our egg customers. I have the idea that people wouldn’t want to pay for the “misfits” because they are not perfectly-shaped like the ones in the grocery store. They are so beautiful to me, but I have always loved the misfits.

But lately I have been thinking about how the perfect eggs are a big lie. They are simply a lie told to us by a food system that keeps us detached from the reality of our food and where it comes from. And I feel that lie is a part of an even bigger lie about the uniformity of nature. It’s one Americans have told themselves so powerfully and so often that we can’t see the beauty in the diversity in the nature we are a part of.

Nature is beautiful in its diversity. Not all eggs are perfectly egg shaped. From our flock, we get round eggs, pointy eggs, skinny eggs, and we have one hen who just lays the tiniest little egg all the time. Sometimes, there are big eggs with double yolks. A couple of times we had an egg with a shell inside of an egg. It’s all fantastic and interesting. The egg companies take their “misfits” and use them in other products, so people who only get eggs in the grocery store never get to see the beauty in all that diversity. Oh, we miss so much!

When I researched to see what the egg companies did with their oddly-shaped eggs, I read that some people are scared to eat eggs that are oddly shaped. It’s so interesting to me that we are scared of what is different. I guess I can see a human needing to be wary of anything different, as you wouldn’t want to eat a bad egg, but we definitely need education because it’s not necessary to fear something just because it is different.

With all this in my mind, I decided last week to put some of my misfits into the egg cartons for the egg customers. It was just a couple of eggs in the 18 pack but hopefully enough to remind the wonderful humans who buy our eggs that not all eggs are the same size and shape. Goodness comes in all shapes, sizes, and colors.

Eggs are everything, are they not?

This is how many eggs a teenage boy eats for breakfast…

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

I have so many stories to tell because my baby chicks hatched today, but Thursdays are heavy work days, which means I have to wait until tomorrow. I just had to show you these beautiful eggs. It’s egg season right now, and my 6’4″ teen son is in heaven. This is what he ate for breakfast…plus coffee and a bowl of yogurt and blueberries.

Then he ate two more eggs for a snack.

Hopefully, that’s all for today. The girls are laying very well though, so we have plenty. I love this time of year. I feel so rich. I even saw Betty Jr., who is 7 years old, laying an egg today. How is that possible?

Oh yeah, Rooster is her father. He has really good genes.

“Dead Birds Flying” (Another Bird Flu Update)

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

I wish I had better news to share about the bird flu right now. In terms of spread to humans, chances are still low, but in the last 24 hours, another human became infected. This time, it was a dairy worker in Nevada. So far, there is no human to human transmission, but about 70 people have become infected from animals. And, according to research presented in a recent article in Scientific American, the virus is just one mutation away from being able to bind more efficiently to human cells.

And while transmission to humans is a concern as the virus continues to mutate, right now, outbreaks in wild and domestic bird populations are decimating populations. Eggs are so expensive people are stealing them by the truckload. I saw today that organic eggs were $11 a dozen at the grocery store. Maine has now also reported its first cases in York County, and the state has issued a high alert for the virus. I’ll speak to what we are doing and what other chicken keepers can do below, but I wanted to step back for a moment and talk about the devastation this virus is having on wildlife.

This weekend, I read an article at NPR about why the bird flu we are experiencing now is so much worse than the bird flu of the past. I have seen many people in farming and chicken forums skeptical about the dangers of the bird flu, citing evidence that bird flu has been around forever and that there have been outbreaks in the past. These things are true, but there has been an adaptation in the bird flu in recent years that has changed things. Things are not as they used to be. Nothing really is, is it?

Scientists in the article explain that, starting in 2020 to 2021, the virus adapted. In the past, sick birds would die quickly from the symptoms, which cut down on the spread of the virus. In recent years, the virus has adapted, and infected birds live longer–just long enough to spread the virus to another population. It’s causing the virus to spread differently than in the past, and there are many, many people who are in denial about this, which never bodes well for the prevention of spread.

The author of the article, Gabrielle Emanuel, citing experts who have studied the flu virus for decades, explains:

“The particular virus that causes bird flu — H5N1 — itself is not new. It’s a disease that originated in east Asia, first detected in China in 1996. The virus has mostly terrorized poultry farms and led to massive culling. It has occasionally spilled over to humans, causing some 400 deaths over the decades, but rarely spreads human-to-human. And while it has jumped over into wild birds periodically — killing many birds in many places — it never took off globally.

Then came 2020 and 2021, when the version that’s driving the current outbreak emerged.

The virus evolved so some wild birds are able to migrate just far enough to reach another bird community or mammal population to pass the virus on before dying.”

A scientist cited in the article explains it’s like “dead birds flying,” and the virus is wreaking havoc on wildlife–birds, marine mammals, and, of course, it’s spreading to both commercial and backyard chicken flocks, dairy farms, and some humans.

I guess the question comes down to this: What can we do?

While scientists keep stressing the importance of government preparedness (I read that the UK has ramped up production of vaccines), it’s not hopeful that our government is doing anything to prepare for this. In the immediate, if you live in a state like we do where there have been cases of bird flu, it’s a good idea to take some precautions.

We do not live near water, so that helps us, but it’s no guarantee, of course. We studied the migration patterns of birds and see that our greatest risk in our part of Maine is from the first of April to the middle of June. If we start to see cases in our area, we will have to lock down the flock. To make it possible to lock down the flock, Ron plans to build two covered high tunnels that he thinks will be able to withstand the wind. I’ll definitely keep you posted on Ron’s plans because he thinks his plans will be affordable and effective, and he’s usually right on such things.

In the immediate, we are keeping food and water away from wildlife. We are only feeding the chickens in the coop, and they are barely leaving the coop right now anyway because of all the snow. Last year, when we realized we had better not get new chicken babies and work on naturally downsizing the flock, who knew it was going to be so important so quickly?

It’s also important to keep people away from the flock, and we are using designated shoes for the coop, but we always do the latter. I have also not been letting the flock have driveway time this winter, which makes everyone sad.

Our ducks have also been locking themselves down for the most part on their own because of all the snow, but we do keep their feed and water outside, so I am making a canvas tent this week to connect to their duck house and put food and water in. My only worry is that those skittish runner ducks won’t stand for it. I’ll keep you posted.

If you have chickens, this site from the University of Minnesota Extension office is very helpful. I have also been following the altCDC on social media. It seems like a good idea.

Please take good care, everyone. There is so much to follow in the news that we can’t keep up with it all. It’s just exhausting. I’ll do my best to keep you updated on bird flu.

photo credit: Edouard Gilles, Unsplash

Silver Saved Hector

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

It has been many days of bad news. I know overwhelming us with bad news is the point, but I feel so down nonetheless. But there are good things too, and I have the best story to tell about Hector.

Last year, we lost Silver, and I was heartbroken because it was partially my fault. She had water belly in a bad way. It had come on quickly, and I kept researching and researching on how to drain her. I was so scared to poke her with that needle and drain her belly. I finally did it, but I was too little too late. Perhaps because I had go buy the equipment and perhaps because I kept watching the same videos and reading the same instructions over and over, we lost Silver.

I as devastated, but a reader and a friend said, “Now you know how to do it, and it will save the next one.”

The next one came pretty quickly. Last May, Hector, who has never had the greatest health, developed water belly. I was still terrified, but I had the equipment, got my son to hold her, and I drained her. I did everything right, I had thought, but the liquid that came out was not a normal, clear color as it should. I looked it up, and it was infection. Everything I read said that the draining would help but that something was seriously wrong with her and that she didn’t have much time.

I kept watching Hector and spoiling her, thinking any moment could be her last, but so far, that moment has never come. I don’t know why. I definitely pulled infected fluid out of her. The ONLY thing I can figure out is that maybe, by some bit of luck, I got enough of the infection out of her that her immune system was able to help her fight off the rest.

Hector continues to be one who is a little slower than the others. I figured out pretty quickly that she did not have the best genetics because she started to develop struggles at a VERY young age. In fact, she will be just three years old this spring. Still, she is still with us and doing well overall. I am thankful because she is the sweetest little thing, and as she has gotten older, she has developed a little bit of sass, which you just have to adore.

The most interesting thing to me is that last week, Hector started laying again! I have no idea how she could be that sick last year and recover enough to be laying again, but I know her eggs. She is a Black Copper Maran and lays a beautiful chocolate egg. Faure lays an egg that is pretty close, but hers are speckled. Hector’s eggs are the only ones that are solid chocolate eggs, so these are definitely her eggs.

The chocolate egg on the left is definitely Hector’s, and the dark egg on the right is Faure’s. I put in two cream-colored eggs for contrast. Aren’t they all beautiful?

It feels a little bit like a miracle. My sweet Silver saved my sweet Hector, and I am learning all the time. I don’t know how much longer Hector has, but she got more time in a place where she is loved and respected. That seems pretty good to me.

Two eggs per day–sometimes one

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

Right around Thanksgiving is always the worst time for egg laying in our flock. Since we do not add light to the coop, our girls rest this time of year, and it’s always a little disheartening when I go collect the eggs. I have been getting two per day most days this week, but this morning, it was just one.

In our efforts to reduce our flock size naturally over time, we did not have any new baby chicks this summer, which means no one is just starting to lay eggs this fall. It’s been awhile since we have not had any new layers, so I have a feeling that this year is going to be extra tough in the egg department.

There is a good chance I am going to have to buy some eggs this week, and I am interested in seeing how much they cost. I will only buy free-range, humanely-raised eggs, so they are already quite expensive. But I was just reading yesterday that egg prices were up 30% in October due to issues with bird flu nationwide and increased demand. I don’t know why demand would be higher, unless all the chicken keepers all over the country, collectively, are having to buy eggs right now like I am about to do.

I’ll have to keep you posted on how much they cost. Vital Farms are my favorite eggs that taste most like our eggs. I hope they aren’t sold out. I have been having a very, very hard time finding organic, grass-fed milk at our grocery stores. I can still find organic, but because of my son’s liver issues due to long COVID, he can only drink grass-fed milk. There is. a dairy here in Maine that I can buy milk from sometimes, but they are often just sold out. This milk shortage makes me a bit nervous.

Anyway, hopefully, I can find the eggs I want tomorrow. Maybe next year we’ll have at least a few baby chicks in the summer, so I don’t have to buy eggs next Thanksgiving. I really want to get some heritage breed chicks. In the meantime, I have dread for the day I go out to the coop and there is not a single egg for me. I think it’s coming.

In My Hands

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

On Monday, I was picking strawberries in my apron and was struck by how beautiful the freshly-picked berries looked against my apron. Of course, I had to take a picture. Later, I was kneading dough for dinner and thought it was so beautiful too, so I took a picture. I ended up deciding it would be cool to take pictures of the amazing things in my hands on an average day here on our little farmstead. I hope these make you smile!

These were the very first strawberries of the season, and they symbolize so much hope and joy for me. They are the most beautiful to me!

I was making tortillas for dinner and thought about how beautiful dough is. I have large hands, which used to bother me when I was young, but now that I work on our farmstead–and am learning to play cello–I am thankful for large hands.

The first radishes! There have been no worms this year, which is kind of amazing! The snails have eaten the green beans and carrots, but the radishes have been spared the worms!

The spinach and lettuces have been excellent this year. I thinned them early and have been working hard to give them space all spring. It has worked. Look at this lettuce! And that’s Saint-Saens in the background really wanting some. She got some, of course!

Ruby is broody, as she does. Because we cannot have any baby chicks this year, I keep taking the eggs from her, and she keeps pecking me as much as she can over it. One day, I saw she was on nine eggs. On this day, there were just three.

And this one is a very long story. A couple of weeks ago, my teenage son rescued a baby mouse that had blown into our driveway after a storm. It was nearly dead, and I thought it was definitely going to die. However, my son stayed up with that mouse, who still had its little eyes closed, and fed it every two hours the first night. Somehow, that little mouse made it, and now we have a mouse friend. I know the risks of rescuing a wild animal, and I am generally opposed to this kind of thing. It’s a long story that I hope to tell soon that this little mouse, named Jeremiah Benjamin von Kangle Wangle (because he kangles and wangles and also seems to be able to teleport), is with us. He’s very, very sweet.

Good News and Bad News

~ Crystal Sands ~ 1 Comment

I am going to start with the good news because it’s really good news. On Saturday, Mary Jane celebrated her 7th birthday! Mary Jane is a giant Freedom Ranger meat chicken who was pardoned the day Tom Petty died in 2017. There were so many times I thought I was going to lose her, but mostly, I thought she was surely going to pass when the entire flock came down with a terrible respiratory illness in the fall of 2019, but she just keeps going and is doing quite well overall right now.

This is Mary Jane front and center with Kate next to her and then Hector on the left. That’s Eleanor on the right.

In fact, I just the other day saw her settle down a rowdy broody hen. The broody hen (it was Marshmallow) tried to attack her because broody hens attack anyone who accidentally comes near them, and Mary Jane just bonked her on the head and gobbled a bunch at her. When Mary Jane talks, she really does kind of “gobble” like a turkey. I wish so badly I could get it on video because it’s so cute. I am so glad to know that bird, and I am so glad she made it to 7. I am pretty sure that has to be some kind of record for a bird with her genetics.

Sadly, I have some really bad news too.

The morning of Mary Jane’s birthday this Saturday, when I went to the coop to open the little door to let the flock out into the big chicken yard, I thought people were acting a little strange. Rooster seemed upset, but I think he’s getting some senility in his old age, so I didn’t think too much about it. However, when I went around to open the big coop door, I walked in to find Poe Jr. Jr. had passed away fairly recently. I was heartbroken on this one.

Poe Jr. Jr. was Poe’s grand baby and was such a great girl. She didn’t fit in too well with the flock and had struggled with her lack of feathers because she didn’t molt for two years, which was really strange. I have never seen it happen to another hen. But, finally, last fall, she molted and grew the most beautiful feathers. She was mostly black, but there were brown and green feathers in there. I remember how proud she was when she final molted and grew her feathers. You could tell she knew. She let me take so many pictures of her even though she had always been so shy.

This was little Poe Jr. Jr. right after she grew her new feathers finally. She was so proud of them. She knew she was beautiful, and I was so happy for that little hen.

It feels like such a tragedy that she passed away. She just seemed to get things figured out, so I am devastated by her loss. I thought I wasn’t going to cry very much anymore about the loss of our girls, but I cried hard for Poe Jr. Jr.. I couldn’t even understand why I was so broken down over losing her. She was not sick and so did not suffer. I checked her over carefully when I picked up her little body. She was a good weight, looked healthy, had no sign of mites. She just passed. She was only 3. It happens sometimes. It just happens. Her father was Poe’s son Edgar, but I do not know her mother, as she came to me in a hatching egg from the farm where Edgar lived.

I think I cried extra because my younger brother is very sick. Very sick. I am very worried about him. Very worried. But I haven’t been able to cry. Maybe it came with some with the loss of Poe Jr. Jr. I am crying again as I write about her. Catharsis, right? The only good thing about it was that, I swear, she looked so peaceful, like unusually so.

There is more bad news though.

Last week, I noticed Silver was sleeping in the nest boxes instead of on the perches, but I thought she was maybe just going broody. She tends to go broody every summer. I just did a health and mite check last Wednesday, and she was on the perch then and seemed fine.

But, this morning when I was leaving for my cello lessons, I saw her standing in the sick chicken pose. When I got home, I found her, and I knew things were bad because she just let me catch her.

She is in very, very bad shape. Very bad. Her crop is bad, and her belly is swollen. I was barely able to give her a bath and get her cleaned up. I ran to the store to get her some medicine, though I wasn’t hopeful.

When I got home, I couldn’t get her to take it, and I thought I had better research and get more information about this, as I have never had a hen be this sick. It was as bad as I thought, and it seems she has ascites or some kind of tumor blockage. Either way, there is nothing to be done. Silver is going to pass, and because she is struggling so much, if she doesn’t pass by tomorrow morning, Ron will have to cull her. I hate for Ron to have to do this, but he knows how to do it quick, very quick and with no stress to the bird. This is the hardest part of keeping chickens, and I can’t believe we are dealing with this. But we do not want Silver to suffer more than she already is.

I have been pretty good in my breeding program here on the farm to make sure we don’t have to deal with ascites. I haven’t seen it in some years, though it was common in our first flock we got from a production bird line. Silver’s father is Rooster, who obviously has the best genes, and her mother was Schubert. I got Schubert from a very reputable breeder her in Maine, but she ended up passing last year when she was just 5 years old, which is not bad at all but not great. This is a hard day.

Silver has such unique coloring. She is Welsummer in the front, like her dad, and gray in the back like her mom. In the sunlight, she just always looked gold in the front and silver in the back. You just knew she might lay a golden egg. She didn’t, but it was a beautiful green.

Silver is like her father and so noble. She has never liked to be touched but has always been smart and curious. She has always been more serious, anxious for treats when I bring them–but never too anxious. She would never get into a fray over anything. She just kept her distance if necessary.

I am going to miss her terribly. When she was born, she was so shiny and silver. I wished so badly for her to be a girl, and she was. Now I wish for more time with her, but unless some kind of miracle happens tonight, this will be her last night.

I didn’t know what to do but drop everything and just sit with her this afternoon. I played Tom Petty’s Time to Move On for her. I couldn’t even hold her. She is too swollen for it. So I just held her little foot while we listened to the words. We love this song around here. My son, the musician, says it’s magnificent because the music sounds like it’s time to move on before you even hear the words. It’s a good one. It’s the best I could think of for a magnificent bird like Silver.

I hope she moves on to something great, something magnificent like she deserves.

Which way to love land?
Which way to something better?
Which way to forgiveness?
Which way do I go?

Yeah, it’s time to move on, time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing
It’s time to move on, time to get going

~Tom Petty

Ruby & Tuesday Eggs

~ Crystal Sands ~ 1 Comment

Almost every day, I see this in the dog crate I leave out for Ruby and Tuesday as they run around outside of the chicken pasture. The crate right by the garage, so every time we go out for a walk in the evening, I see their little eggs, side by side. I have no words for how happy this makes me. The green one is Ruby’s; the cream one is Tuesday’s.

In memory of plain Jane and sweet Charlotte

~ Crystal Sands ~ 1 Comment
That’s our sweet Charlotte right in front.

In the last week, we have lost two members of our flock. One was a bit of a surprise, and the other came suddenly but was a very old girl.

First, last Saturday evening, I had just been out giving treats to the flock and all had been well, but when I went out to close up the chickens, right in the front door I saw a dead hen. It was a big girl, and in the dark, I panicked and thought it might be Mary Jane. I went inside to get the flashlight and came back to find that it was Jane, Mary Jane’s daughter. She was only four year old, so it was hard to lose her. I am not sure why she passed. I could find nothing wrong with her. It looked like it was just that her heart had given out.

Jane was not supposed to be with us. During the start of the pandemic in 2020, there was a chick shortage, so I used our incubator and hatched quite a few baby chicks for people, probably about 100 in total. Some were given as chicks; others were raised by us until they were ready for a coop. We gave them to people and never charged money, but sometimes, people gave us gifts in return. We got a whole cord of wood from a couple of guys, so that was really nice. Jane was supposed to go out to those guys, but in the end, we decided to keep her.

I had tried really hard not to get attached to all those babies because I knew they were for other people, but Jane was a stand out. She was so curious, always checking me out. One day, Ron said, “There’s one hen in out there I think I’d like to keep.” As he began to describe her, I knew it was Jane! I was so excited that we agreed on keeping her, and so Jane, named so because she was the plainest hen in terms of looks, became a part of our flock.

She fit in so well, and in 2021, when I drove up north to get Poe grand baby eggs, it was Jane who went broody first and raised those babies. Jane raised Cora, Bertha, and Poe Jr. Jr. She did a great job–really too good of job–because Juliet was also raising a clutch at the same time, and Jane bossed Juliet around so badly that Juliet and her babies could barely move around with Jane’s permission.

Interestingly, Juliet had two hens she raised during that time. One was Ophelia who Juliet ended up rejecting early for some reason, and the other one was the only and only Ruby. I feel like Jane may have caused a lot of stress during Ruby’s upbringing, which goes a long way in explaining Ruby.

I am going to miss Jane so much. I assume she died a bit on the young side because she was a big girl with meat-bird genes, but she had a very, very good life in the flock, and I am so glad she stayed with us, especially since every single chicken we gave to those guys for the wood ended up being eaten by a fox. I think a lot of people got chickens during the pandemic, even when they weren’t quite ready for them. I quit hatching chicks for people after that because you know how I am, and the fox stories made me very sad.

This is Jane when she got to be a mama–a fierce mama. That baby chick next to her is Poe Jr. Jr.

Our sweet Charlotte died yesterday in the evening. It was also very sudden with no signs of illness at all. She was just old; she was out in there in the pasture with her people and then just died. She has been with us for a long time. She was a Buff Orpington I bought from a man in early 2017. He was selling them because his daughter had bought too many chicks, and as they grew up, she was overwhelmed. I bought Charlotte and Emily from him and immediately fell in love with them. I don’t know if they were sisters, but when you get a pair of hens, you just have to name them as if they are, so I named them Charlotte and Emily, after the Brontes.

I had hoped I was buying from a local breeder but was too naive to ask. I was more than a little disappointed when I found out they came from Tractor Supply, but it turned out to be okay. Charlotte was seven years old when she passed. Emily is still going, though I expect we won’t have her much longer. Still, that’s a pretty good run for some Tractor Supply chickens.

Emily and Charlotte were very close. They were inseparable for years, and in later years, still hung out a lot. Saint-Saens is either Emily or Charlotte’s daughter, and she always hung out with them as well. It’s one of the most fascinating things to me about chickens, but they tend to hang out with the people who look like them.

It was also interesting to me that both Emily and Charlotte got grumpy in their older age–a little mean sometimes. Buff Opringtons are such a docile breed, and those hens were so sweet most of their lives. Still, about two years ago, I noticed they were both just pecking everyone on the head like they owned the place. I guess they did. They were officially a part of the old guard in the coop, and I am so sad to have lost Charlotte.

But she was out pecking and scratching in the pasture and doing what she loved when she passed. She lived a very, very good life.

Last night, I tried to show her to Emily, to make sure Emily understood, but Rooster was too out of sorts about it. So, this morning, when Ron was about to take Charlotte out to the deep woods to feed a fox or someone in need, he held her down and showed her to the flock. He said the flock got very quiet and that Emily looked for a long time.

For various reasons I hope to write about soon, we can’t get any baby chickens this year and maybe next year. We also have several older hens. I am coming upon a time of loss–death without any new life–in this cycle of our farm as we try to downside our flock.

It’s going to be hard on my heart.