Every year…every year, I have a list of things to build and do as long as my arm. This year is no exception. Although it is still below freezing here, I’ll be starting my cabbage and kale seeds very soon. I’ve got all my seeds purchased and waiting…even the ones I won’t be able to plant for months yet. Two mail order companies I particularly love are Baker Creek and Seed Renaissance. Both stock rare and wonderful heirloom seeds – sometimes ones you can’t find anywhere else.
Besides the seeds, I am making plans for parts of the property that have been neglected for years. The colony meat rabbits will finally be coming this year. It’s perfect timing, because their housing will be paid for by a Victorian costume I sold to a Los Angeles “stylist to stage and screen”! I’m going to build it here, in this shady bit of space behind the old apple tree.
Before I can build this, however, I’m moving the pet rabbits out of the former duck house and into a place of their own. Here, at the side of the chicken coop.
The idea is, they will have a bit of outdoor space to run in, and – if they and the chickens get on together – they will be able to have access to the entire chicken yard, too. We’ll see how that goes…Antoinette is not a great fan of critters in her yard.
She chases squirrels out the coop, and once, when the rabbits were a lot younger and smaller, she jumped on one and attempted to thoroughly thrash it. (I’m not sure the rabbit noticed…)
Once the pet rabbits are moved into their new quarters, I’ll have the former duck coop available again…and this year, I’m getting a few Naked Neck chickens to raise for meat.
I have decided against raising the traditional “broilers”, those unnatural frankenchickens. Instead I chose this traditional meat breed, partly because they naturally have 40% less feathers (and not just on their necks). Less feathers mean less plucking!
Since I will be butchering both rabbits and meat chickens here next year, I decided I need a sort of summer kitchen, with an outdoor sink and a place to process animals. I selected this corner, which has always just been a place to store excess junk.
One bonus, once I put up a new solid fence at the back, it will be very private and out of the way of nosy neighbors.
The frizzle cochins roosters are gone…into my freezer. Probably because of the time of year, I couldn’t find anyone who wanted to take them off my hands. It’s just as well, really. They were massive boys (I called them the “Turkeys”) and butchering them was good practice for what’s to come. The larger one dressed out at just over 5lbs, and the smaller just under that.
I used my new Ballista bolt gun, and I highly, highly recommend it. Easy to use, and I loved how instant and humane the death was. I truly believe the roosters were dead without ever having any inkling anything was happening. Even mom helped with the plucking and gutting. And one interesting thing I noticed while gutting them: they didn’t stink. It’s pretty commonly known that the insides of chickens smell pretty terrible – that was certainly the case with the one other rooster (belonging to a friend) that I butchered. Gah. Nasty. But because my chickens eat a natural diet of grains, bugs, and vegetables (plus some table scraps) their poop doesn’t stink…and so apparently…neither do their insides.
My hens were SO HAPPY to have the roosters gone. The girls generally would not put up with any roostery nonsense from the boys, but my shy little Barnvelder, Josie, was being terrorized by them. The last couple of days, she took to hiding all by herself in the back of the yard, and wouldn’t come to the coop even to eat or drink unless I was there. Even after I saw this happening, and penned the roos up separately so they couldn’t get to the hens, she didn’t feel safe. Poor girl. Today, the first full day the roos are gone, the hens are so relaxed. They are sleeping in the sun, stretched out and purring.
I am, of course, keeping their sister, the blue frizzle cochin Ophelia. She’s such a calm, pretty girl…and she loves having her picture taken. She’ll stand and wait, every time she sees the camera.
My little soulmate chicken, Ellie, hates the camera – but also gets extremely jealous of all the attention Ophelia is getting. She pulls on my pants legs, whining with increasing volume and anxiety, and if I still keep ignoring her, she stalks away and stands in the corner with her back to me until I apologize.
This is my life: fluffy frizzle divas and jealous Welsummers.