So, Now What?

If What’s it like to be back? is the question we get the most, then What are you going to do now? is a close second.

We have a farm.

So we thought we’d try farming.

If looking good on a tractor is what it takes to be a farmer, this should be easy!

I decided if I wanted to be a farmer I needed a pair of boots.

Bruce decided if he wanted to be a farmer he needed a plow.

I bought the boots at the farm store (where farmers shop, I guess!) and after talking to the guy behind the counter (who happened to be the owner) we discovered that he had gone to elementary school with a bunch of my friends from college. That’s what small town living is. Even if you move away, when you move back there are folks who knew you or knew your friends since forever. Probably knew your parents, too.

The boot store was also selling chicks.

Chickens are good to have if you’re going to be a farmer, right?

For now they’re in our garage in town. I feed them chopped up eggs to get them used to me so they’re not so skitterish. I bought 40 hens and so far only three of them have died.

To be completely truthful, two died and we had to euthanize one little chick who had a twisted neck. I’ve never seen this before. She would get what I suppose were neck cramps, and her head would twist completely around. One minute she would be running around fine, her head held up normally and the next it would cramp back behind her and she would run in circles.

I did a bit of research and it seemed that a vitamin deficiency might be the culprit. I went back to the boot store and bought a vitamin supplement. Whenever I was sitting in the garage watching the birds (it’s mesmerizing, kind of like watching the surf or watching a fire) I would pick her up and make sure she drank.

After a week there was no improvement. The periods of cramping seemed to be getting more frequent. She was smaller and lighter than the other chicks, an indication that it was difficult for her to eat and drink. She was obviously suffering, chirping pitifully when the cramps would seize her and scrabbling in the straw bedding.

So we did what caretakers of animals often have to do–made the decision to end her life as painlessly as possible. Bruce, a better animal husband than I, took her outside and quickly broke her neck. Of course she had been the tamest and sweetest of the 38, getting more individual attention than her sisters. So it was a disheartening job.

Here’s hoping the remaining 37 make it to maturity.

Then what?

Wow, I have no idea. Really, I bought the birds without thinking through what we would do with them. After all, we have a whole farm! And we raised turkeys out there already, those many years ago. This would be roughly the same thing, right?

Well, not really. The turkeys were raised for slaughter at Thanksgiving. These girls will lay eggs and will need to winter over, protected from foxes and hawks. We will have to build a predator-proof chicken house and snake-proof nest boxes. We live a few miles from the farm, and the chickens will require daily attention.

Well, we have a few months to figure it out!