I heard there was a clamor on the Internet for these photos ...

Yes, everyone's been waiting to see what the chicken tractor looks like!


Dave made it completely from scrap lumber and parts, with the exception of the wheels ($6), the chicken wire, and the hook-and-eye closures I made him get after I scratched myself on the wire closures we had before. He had to learn to weld to get it done, too -- the base 6x8 frame is welded rusty metal bars with wheels attached. Then he arched hog panels over the top of that to create the shape. He built the front end from plywood, and then I helped him stretch chicken wire over the whole works, and put an apron of chicken wire on the inside along the bottom to discourage Fantastic Mr. Fox and whoever else thinks chickens are tasty. (We did have an attempted break-in the other night -- something had put a paw on the chicken wire and managed to rip a few staples. That's as far as it got, though.) A quick door, and a tarp over the top, and it was ready for mobile chicken containment!

It adds that lovely hippies-live-here touch to the farmyard, I have to say! I am just happy we finally got our little chicken chain gang out to work.

The chickens have been in it for about three weeks now, weeding, tilling and fertilizing the garden at the rate of one 6x8 foot rectangle a day. We move it once a day (well, to be honest, Dave moves it once a day -- it's awfully heavy, and I can't get it to move over the ... let's just say overgrown parts of the garden), and in that time, the chickens make a noticeable difference in the amount of weeds in that spot. Go, chickens! Get that garden spic and span!

Dave kept saying they aren't really earning their chicken feed until they start laying, too. I told him he'd better stop wishing for them to lay before he had their nest boxes built! (There are some icky parts about raising chickens -- one of them being that if you aren't vigilant about egg gathering, some chickens start eating eggs, and once they get in the habit, it's tough to get them to stop. Ew. A rollaway nest box is the best way to ensure the chickens don't get started down the wrong path, but Dave didn't feel like building anything that complicated at this point -- a plain old box with a slanted, hinged lid helps, too, in that the egg is out of sight, out of mind.)

Anyway, Dave, Sofi and Erik went to check the chickens last night after supper, and what did they find?

One smallish brown egg!

Yes, our little chicks have become full productive members of society. Almost makes you teary when you think about it.

OK, not really. And actually, it's only one chicken, since we didn't find any more eggs out there today. But I'm sure the rest will step up to the plate (one with a side of bacon on it, preferably) and start laying soon!

Dave took that one egg as a sign and made two nest boxes last night after the kids went to sleep. I did not observe a chicken in one of the boxes yet today, but that doesn't mean much. They aren't very adventurous chickens -- it takes them a while to warm up to new things.

So there's the chicken tractor. The Internet clamor can settle down now!

Guess what we have!

It is sometimes clear to us how new we are to this whole chicken-raising business.

As we watched the chicks grow, we noticed that none of the chicks had any kind of a cock's comb when they were tiny, but that they all started to develop one as they grew. None of them had anything that resembled the traditional silhouette on the top of the weather vane -- but there was one that seemed to have more of a cock's comb than the others. And each day it had a little more, and a little more ... "I'm suspicious of that chicken," I told Dave one day.

And then, one morning, Dave came in and said, "Guess what I just heard!"

There could no longer be any doubt: We had a rooster. Or a morning alarm clock.

And boy, does he ever act like a rooster! A person understand better just what "cocky" means now. He's always the first to run forward to investigate things; when we were working outside near his house today, he started crowing regularly -- just to show us he was the rooster, it seemed like. And he really struts in there. Dave said it's like he's saying, "Yeah, I have eleven ladies!"

We are actually happy to have a rooster. Having one rooster in the bunch means there's no question about the pecking order, so there's no need to fight to establish it. And my aunt Lillian told me that the eggs have less cholesterol with a rooster in the flock.

Sofia has named him "Cock-a-Doodle-Doo." Dave says that's better than the name he was thinking of: "Soup of the Day."

Local Food Challenge: Days Two and Three: A new definition

Sigh. I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to redefine what I can expect of myself on this local food challenge: It is a work in progress.

The tagline the challenge had on some of the early posters was “How LOCAL can you go?” Well, for some meals, pretty local! For others? Not very.

Read more from that entry here. A recipe for a squash and apple casserole is included!

Local Food Challenge: Day One: And we begin!

All sorts of successful bloggers have discovered this wonderful fact of the Internet: Why post your writing in just one place when you can post it in two?

So, for the month of September, I'll be cross-posting here the articles I'm writing on the Frederick blog. This is all for the Three Rivers Local Food Challenge that Frederick Forward is sponsoring -- check out the website for the challenge to get all the details.

Here's a bit from the first blog entry:

7 a.m.: Push the snooze button.

7:20 a.m.: Jump out of bed, remembering I need to put gas in the car before I go to my sister’s to babysit. Shower, make coffee, pack bags, etc.

8:04 a.m.: Rush the kids out the door and into the car.

8:15 a.m.: Remember, as I’m driving and eating one of the whole-wheat bread and Nutella sandwiches I made for the kids and myself, that it’s the first day of the Local Food Challenge. Groan. Console myself that coffee and Nutella were on my exemptions list anyway.

8:45 a.m.: Get gas.

8:55 a.m.: Get to my sister’s house. Discuss what I’ll fix for the kids for lunch; wonder why in the world I didn’t bring any vegetables from our house! For a brief moment, believe the only local food in her house are a few sliced tomatoes. Eventually unearth corn and apple slices in the freezer — along with some local liver sausage. Realize that this “eating adventure” looks like it’s going to start with liver! But not for the kids. They get meatloaf and potatoes (not local).

Read the rest of the entry here.