When I was in, oh about the second or third grade, my class incubated chicken eggs as a class project. Once they were hatched, we were allowed to take the chicks home if it was OK with our parents. I remember being very surprised that my parents said yes, and brought home two chicks, one for my sister and one for me.

I suspect it was my mother who built the coop out of plywood and chicken wire in the back corner of the garden. I know dang well it was she who took us to a farm and came home with some more chickens. I had several particular pets out of the chicken project, which lasted for years and years. I had at least two Araucanas, the hens that lay the green eggs, and a Bantam rooster named Rooster Cogburn that used to ride my shoulder. My sister had a fantastic Polish Crested hen named Mrs. Polowski. No idea where she got that name from, but that hen was the tamest and longest-lasting hen of all of the chickens.

There were losses, of course. The dog tore apart two of the birds, which was a shocking sight to come home from school to. A neighbor objected to the crowing hen, so that one went back to the place we got the Bantys from. And my dad wanted to kill one, a rooster that nobody particularly liked. I was a much softer-hearted child than I’ve grown to be as an adult, and that killing was traumatic. I wouldn’t be too surprised if it contributed to my sister’s stint of vegetarianism, but I got over it.

I’ve wanted to keep chickens ever since, but hadn’t ever had a place to do it. And in keeping with my hobby of growing my own food, I’ve wanted to keep them not just for the eggs, but for the meat as well. We supply a fair amount of our own meat through hunting, so why not through livestock? Besides, it would be nice to do something with that Animal Science degree that I so painfully acquired twenty years ago.

So when we bought this place that seemed to have a yard that was split in half, I suggested that the far back corner, beyond the garden, would be a great spot for a chicken coop. To his credit, Junior agreed. And when he asked what kind of coop I wanted, he took my suggestions and ran with them. He’s fenced off a good section for chickens and another pen for sheep – that’s another entry – and we got to building. I’m the dumb end of the labor, of course.

He took plans for a garden shed and modified them to be a little bigger and to use pre-cut studs. We’ll add a few things to make it habitable for chickens, but if it turns out that we hate raising poultry, we’ll still have a nice garden shed, and made stronger and for less than the commercial Tuff-Sheds cost.

My initial plan was to have a flock of about 20 birds, and to slaughter half of them. I wanted to raise some of the breeds from my childhood, and looked around here for sources without much luck. But did you know that you can buy fertile eggs on eBay? I didn’t, but I sure do now! And my little flock may have grown to as much as my incubator (which I already owned) can hold. Oops. But that’s OK; I’ll process most of the roosters and freeze and can the meat. I’ll have way more eggs than I need, so we may have to give them away daily. It’s a hobby, not a business, and I’m already enjoying it. Seamus may even join the poultry club and show a chicken at the fair next year; we’ll certainly be equipped for that.

But for now I’m obsessing about chickens when the eggs haven’t even shipped yet. And I don’t even eat eggs. I’ll keep you updated.