Edensveil Farm

Whew! I thought I had lost one of the chicks last night. Yesterday was the first day they were out in the big pen with the hens. When I came home from playing tennis with neighbor Dave it was about 9 pm. For the readers not from around here, at the end of May that means it is dusk. Still easy to see but definitely getting on towards dark. I saw all five chicks in the big pen but the hens had already gone in to roost. The door into the coop is about a foot above the dirt of the pen. In the morning before I left I placed a board as a ramp to make it easier for the chicks to get in and out of the coop. The hens never needed it, they just hop a little with their wings. But when I came home the board was down and the chicks were are huddled in a corner. I decided just to catch them and put them in the coop by hand as the board was probably too slick for them to climb up anyway. Dave and I chased chicks all over the big pen and got three of them in the coop fine. Two were huddled up against a corner of the fence. Now I need to explain that this heavy wire fence has openings not more than two inches wide. My chicks are about 2/3 size hens so getting pretty big. But, to my absolute amazement, one of the little buggers popped right through that fence. Way too skinny for eating, that's for sure. I got the other chick in and we tried to grab the little one but it immediately ducked underneath the barn and there was no way we could get it.

Dave and I blocked off all the escape routes around the foundation of the barn so that to get out the chick would have to go out through the only exit left which was in the pen. Then we tucked them away for the night and went to the deck for a fire, an after dinner dessert wine and a stogey. This morning I got up and no chick yet. I fixed up the ramp, nailed it to the bottom of the opening and nailed some slats on it so they could come and go easier. Still no chick. I went to do a little watering of the new plants and checked every so often. The four chicks that were left didn't seem to want to go outside. I figured if they were in the pen, the little guy under the barn would get the courage to come out. But they stayed inside. I watered some more. I checked one last time to see if they were outside and all five were in the barn. Five? Yep, she had come out from under the barn, gone up the ramp and joined her friends inside. The five were back together.

What interests me about this is why it matters so much. Why did I worry about that little chick underneath the barn all night, thinking about the coyote sighting, wondering if it was keeping warm enough. I wondered why I was so happy to see it returned to the barn with the others. It reminded me again of chasing the one who got out for a whole week. I told my kids there is a spiritual lesson in all things if you have eyes to see and my sense of that brought the message about the lost sheep to me more than anything else I can remember. The Shepherd could not stand to have one of his flock of one hundred missing. Ninety nine were safe, but the Shepherd never rested until the last one was found and safely in the fold. These are animals, even animals we eat. But when they are in our care and dependent on us, something significant inside happens. And the wonder, of course, is that if it can move us in that way, what does the lost do to the One on whom we all depend?

Yesterday was the first day the five chicks (hardly chicks anymore) were out of their little pen into the main coop. This morning they were with the hens and everyone seemed to be getting along. Wonder when they start laying. Jim?

When I got my Araucana chickens from my brother Jim, he told me they were called Easter Egg Chickens. Right right, I thought. Like I'm so gullible. No, really, he said. They're known to lay eggs in easter egg colors, but his never have. Just the pretty pinkish brown that they've been laying ever since I got them home. Last Saturday was a busy day at Edensveil. Gabe and Ash and little Baron were moving out after living with the old folks for five months. I went fishing with Francis (nope, no luck) and when I came home I went to the barn to see how the chickens were doing before loading up the lawnmower and mowing Gabe and Ashley's lawn. There I saw them in the nesting box as pretty as can be. Two bright green eggs. First, a wave of panic. Did I feed them too much grass? Did some of that weed and feed I put on the grass affect them and turn their eggs green? Then I remembered, these are easter egg chickens. But my gosh, how bright those colors are. I expected maybe a muted tint of blue or green or purple if anything at all. I grabbed the eggs and went quickly into the house. Amy was there, watching tv upstairs. "Amy," look at these. I showed her the eggs. She smiled that big broad smile and I looked at it closely. This could be a trick, I thought. But who on this busy day would take the time, and no one knew what I knew that these were easter egg chickens. But I did see small scratches on the beautiful green color and that didn't look quite natural. "Did someone do this?" I asked Amy watching her closely. She smiled and shrugged a little.

I put the eggs in the fridge and went to Gabe's. I decided to take the assumptive approach. When I saw him I said, "When did you guys have time for that?" without saying what that was. He smiled extra broadly and said, "What?" Bingo. Then I saw Geoff, also mowing the lawn with my old mower. When he stopped I just asked, so who's idea was it? He raised his hand. Guilty.

Good one guys, you almost had me going. And I know Jim will enjoy this more than anyone. What a stupid farmer his younger brother is. First he can't catch the stupid chicken for a whole week, then he falls for the old green eggs trick.

These are my two laying hens. Thanks to my big brother Jim. My first chickens. One got out the very evening I brought it home. That was before I realized chickens could easily fly over a four foot fence. Even though we live right in town, our little farm is pretty well protected from the nearest neighbors by some pretty thick patches of big trees, brush, blackberry bushes and other brambles. I spent every evening the next week trying to catch the little sucker. Following Jim's instructions, I searched in the woods after dark until I spotted it roosting in the trees. Then, he said, they won't move at night so just sneak up and grab their legs. Yeah, right. First of all, they sit on the darn things, they don't exactly stick them out there for you to snatch them. Second, although they don't want to move, I can tell you they move just fine at night. The first night I got her in the net, squawking and cackling like the world was coming to an end. Then, since I was all caught up in the brambles and bushes, as I tried to get my hand over the net to keep her from getting out, she flipped out and was gone. The next night she was sitting in a great spot so I said forget the net, go for her feet. Knowing now she could and would move pretty well in the dark, I crept up super slow. Took about five heart pounding minutes to get so I could almost touch her. Close enough I thought. I reached out to grab her feet from underneath her, more horrible blood curdling squawking and she was gone in the underbrush, me scrambling and cussing after her.

To make a long story somewhat shorter, after several more hairy chases with nets and Gabe in the woods, I finally got the net on the rest of the pen and let the other chicken out. I told my then very very pregnant daughter Ashley (days away from having that hairly little Baron you see on this site) that I would give her $50 bucks if she caught the bloody thing. Well, Mrs Chicken walked in the pen (I had sealed off one end with more fence so the other one could be in that part and leave the gate open just in case she walked in) and sure enough, Ashley closed the gate. I still owe her the $50 bucks come to think of it.

They are now both in the pen and happily giving almost an egg a piece a day.

Then there's the story of the two green eggs, but we'll save that for later.