Cluck, cluck little biddies!

One of the great things about California is it's long held interest in local and sustainable agriculture.  Being my number one social issue, this is something I can celebrate. There's always someone to talk to about how evil the industrial food system is and where to find the most innovative (wacky) and committed (idealistic to the point of impractical) farming operations.  I kid!  I kid!  In all seriousness, I really respect anyone who knowingly invests in one of the most challenging careers out there.  I hope to be that crazy myself someday.

But while I'm waiting for that garden gate of opportunity to swing wide, I want to have my fingers in the dirt any way I can.  When we lived in South Dakota, we rented a plot at a community garden and packed as many plants into is as possible.  It was totally fun, even if we had some strange results due to overcrowding and the wind blowing our tomatoes to tatters.

As much as I love to garden, I'm really crazy about animal husbandry, and have long wanted to try my hand with chickens.  Growing up, they were not allowed on the farm, being too dirty.  Dalan would say, "I don't want those nasty things crapping all over my tractors."  We are fortunate enough to have these wonderful Portuguese landlords who have given us free rein of our spacious, grassy lot, and were supportive of my backyard chicken ambitions. We chose a plan to build a coop from, and used Christmas money to get started.  Due to Michael's busy work schedule and frequent travel plans, it was going slower than I hoped, so I went out and got some chicks to keep us motivated.

So here we are, with a completed coop (all except for the paint job) and three chicks, Bertie aka Burt (a barred rock), Stella, and Starla (black sex-links).  This week I'll be getting my last three chicks, a buff orpington and my bling bling chickens, two golden laced wyandottes.


My reasons for wanting backyard chickens are two-fold. Mainly, I was interested in having them as pets.  Not very urban-homestead-y, but it's the truth.  The eggs were just a big, "I'm growing my own food" bonus. Of which we will be up to our eyeballs in with 5 hens that lay each will lay over 300 eggs in a year.  Quiche, anyone?