How I Got My Blog Title

One may wonder how in the world I came to have such a crazy title for my blog.  Well, today I am going to tell you.  (Beware, I can turn the shortest of stories into a novel).  To get to the reasoning behind it, I must start at the beginning.

When my husband told me about our future chicken farming, I immediately said, "Well, if I have to be a chicken farmer, I'm going to have the cutest, funkiest, chickens around" and so the search begin.  I started with searching different kinds of chickens on the internet.  I found the ones I HAD to have.  I wanted chickens that laid green eggs and I wanted Silkie Bantams...because they were just plain cute. Then, the search began where to find such chickens. 

I first found the Aucauna's (better known as Easter Eggers).  They laid green eggs. I searched far and wide for some for sale and finally came to a place in Greenville, WI that sold them.  So off, my youngest son and I went to find such chickens and purchase them.  I printed the directions off of Google and we headed out for our little chicken adventure.  We made it to Greenville without becoming lost.  That was a miracle, since I did not have my GPS yet.  We did however drive through Greenville about 10 times trying to find the place that had these chickens.  I kept coming to a massage parlor...and that could not be right.  After driving by it for the 10th time, I finally pulled into the parking lot.  There in the window was a sign...EGGS FOR SALE.  I just shook my head, this could not be right, but I thought, I have looked stupid many times before so why not just go in and ask if they had chickens for sale.  If they gave me a look, well, they would never see me again so who cares what they thought of me.  Sure enough, they had the chickens I was seeking for sale.  Seriously, only I would end up buying chickens at a massage parlor.  I am quite certain I saved these chickens from some sacrificial killing ceremony that would be their future if some city girl did not purchase them and sweep them off to the country.  Really, a massage parlor!! I bought chickens at a massage parlor.  My husband...just shook his head when I told him.

Next, the hunt was on for the fuzzy Silkie Bantams.  Their eggs were small, so they pretty much were going to be worthless but I was going to have cute chickens if my life depended on it.  So a couple weeks later, off to Ahmerst I went with both the boys in tow this time.  My 14 year old was not thrilled nor as excited as I was to be off on another chicken escapade.  Again, I got lost...went to the wrong house first but then after several stops we found the chicken farm. Yes, this time it actually was a farm and boy were my eyes opened to the chicken industry.  It became clear to me what it really meant to be a "cage free chicken".  This place STUNK to high Heaven for starters.  I thought I was going to end up vomiting from the smell and then too because of all the chickens just smashed into cages so tight they could not even move. I might be an animal lover after all because I felt sorry for those cramped chickens.  My oldest was disgusted to say the least.  He did not even want to go into the barn that smelled so disgusting and was concerned then (as was I, if I'm being honest) as to what our chicken coop was going to smell like....and if that smell would venture into my house.  I am notorious for being known as the lady with the house that always smells good.  It may be a mess, but it smells good.  It's a motto I live by. But, I digress, we picked out ten baby fuzzy Silkie Bantams of different colors.  Red ones, white ones, black ones, and multi-colored ones.  Happy again I saved these chicks from a life of misery, and, off for home we headed.

(Really, I am getting to the point of the story).  I offered to share some of these new chicks with my neighbors.  They got chickens a year before we did and my neighbor also wanted some "fun chickens", one for each of her four children aside from their meat and layers.  Her husband always dismissed the idea and of course that's where I said "Since when is he the boss of you....you can have whatever kind of chickens you want".  And so it was settled, they would take four of the cute little fuzz balls. 

We did not know the sex of the chicks when we got them.  Nor, did we know how to tell what they would be.  No one really wanted to get stuck with a crowing rooster that woke them up at the crack of dawn everyday.  Well, I didn't mind if I had one, I can't hear, so wasn't going to bother me.  But with the luck that the neighbors have (quite similar to mine) they ended up with two roosters and I got all the hens. For once, my luck seemed to be where it belonged...on the positive side.

I learned I was not just satisfied with chickens, I wanted A. a turkey to raise for Thanksgiving and B. to hatch my own eggs.  I first tried to buy fertilized eggs and hatch them in an incubator.  Within a week's time I blew up four incubators...NOT KIDDING...well not kidding on the last one I purchased, that one yes, I literally blew up, the other three just died an hour or so after turning them on.  Hatching chickens, turkeys or game hens was not to be apparently.  God was telling me, this is not your calling, and so stop wasting money on incubators.  I gave up.  I still however, wanted a turkey and I still wanted baby chicks. 

So, off on another adventure we went at the very beginning of spring.  I called my friend (who is from Seattle Washington and NOT a farm girl in the least either) and asked her if she wanted to go turkey shopping Sat. morning.  She quickly said yes....knowing it was going to be quite an adventure since it was A. me she was going with, and B. who would turn up the chance at turkey shopping????  I awoke that Saturday morning, and got ready, a little disheartened at the fact it was raining ice that morning, but I was determined to go to the Weyauwega Poultry Swap.  No, I had never been to a poultry swap and had no idea what to expect when I got there.  A fact I quickly pointed out to my city friend so that in case it was a complete disaster, she knew I did not know what I was getting us into, nor do I ever, when I am heading off on such escapades.

I woke my four year old early that morning to get ready and head out.  I said "we are going to go turkey shopping today! Won't that be fun??".  He looked at me and replied "MOM, you don't BUY a turkey, you SHOOT a turkey!".   A little too much education for a four year old? Maybe, but might as well train him right from the start, since he is the son of an avid hunter, but I said "Not today! We are going to buy one".  And off we headed to the fair grounds.

Sadly, there were no turkeys for sale.  BUT, there was a pair of the most adorable baby pygmy goats I had ever seen.  THANK GOODNESS for my husband's sake they were $300.00 or he would have come home from work that morning to our "farming establishment" to being more than just chickens....I am a total sucker for anything baby and cute....but, we left empty handed and it was decided I would just buy a baby turkey from the Feed Mill.

I still, however, have not given up hope for the baby chickens that I would raise myself from the egg and decided I needed a rooster to put with my cute Silkie Fuzzy Chickens and watch them sit on and mother their eggs as nature intended.  Now, where would I get a rooster? 

OH YEAH...the chickens that I gave to the neighbors ended up being roosters....so bright and early Monday morning on my way home from the school I decided I was going to chicken-nap the roosters.  Just stoop to a new low and steal them right out of their coop.  So I pulled into their driveway, knowing no one would be home, and jumped out of the van headed for the coop. I grabbed a pull-ups box out of my van and grabbed one rooster and stuck it in the box and quickly closed it and put it into the van.  But, how many roosters did I need?  I wasn't sure, so thought, well, I'll just take them both and back to the coop I went.  Grabbed the rooster and realized I did not have a second box to put it in. Oh, well, I'll just hold it I thought and jumped into the van.  A chicken is not like a cat or a dog....they don't just lay in your lap and they don't calm when petted whatsoever.  What was that I saw them doing at the poultry swap?  They would get a chicken from the cage and hold on to it by it's legs and turn it upside down and it just hung there peacefully....THAT was what I was going to do.  I think that only works for chickens....roosters...in a minivan...not so much. There was skwacking, feathers flapping, beak trying to peck me....but I was going to bring this rooster home and so I rolled down the window held it upside down by it's legs and drove the short distance home with the poor fellow flapping in the wind.  I wonder what it looked like to the cars passing by as I drove across the road to my driveway with a rooster hanging upside down out the window.  OH DANG, now I had a witness to my thievery...

Well, what does one do when they kidnap (or in this case rooster nap something...they leave a ransom note).  So after getting the roosters in the coop, I needed to write a ransom note and thought about it all day....crafting the perfect note. (I am a bit of a joker...).  So, I sat down at the table and used a crayon (I didn't have time to cut the letters from newspapers and magazines, to make it a true ransom note, they would be returning home soon).  So with a bright red crayon, I wrote:  We have the boys!! Come up with the dough or BAWK off with their heads".  (I laughed and laughed....I'm kind of funny....)

I don't know if it got a laugh out of the neighbors or not, but I did get a text saying "I'm not paying for roosters...keep them".  They didn't call the cops on me, and so far have not stolen anything of ours yet...I can't believe they don't want a dog or two.....but they haven't but I'm sure the day is coming soon when I will feel the wrath of payback.  This isn't the first time I have played a joke on our neighbors....I did put a pile of white rocks at the end of their driveway which supposedly signals the world they are swingers (who knew???)....I'm sure payback is coming...when I least expect it, and well, quite frankly, I say BRING IT!

So now, I have my roosters, the chickens I want and so far...no chicken mothering is going on yet.  In fact, I have no idea if the roosters are even doing their job...I don't have any idea how to tell.  My husband did say, that he walked down there and saw a hen on the back of a hen though....leave it to me to end up with lesbian chickens!