Portage River Farm
Notes on our struggles and successes on our family farm in rural Michigan.
(Pinckney, Michigan)
13 Jun Sat 2009
Daily Routine
We have not had any more losses since Sean and I fortified the coop. All of our efforts of late have been put into the garden and the coop remains a bit of an eyesore due to its less-than half-built nature. Despite this, it has been holding up well to the rainy weather and nightly probes by predators.
The birds have settled in well to their new routine. At sunset each evening I head out to bed them down with a pail of mixed feed and scratch in hand. As I approach the chicken-yard gate, I always call out saying "chick...chick...chick" to let them know that I am coming. During the day this call will bring them running from all directions to gather excitedly at my feet. In the late evening they will have already gathered indoors. Rather than venturing out, they simply answer my call with squawks and clucks.
Unfortunately they have picked the corner behind the door as their favorite site for their nightly pile-up. It is amazing how tiny of a space twenty one chickens can cram themselves into. While it is inconvenient to get through the door when they are packed so tightly behind it, I can't really complain all that much since I have yet to equip the coop with proper roosts. I actually went to the store a few days ago to pick up the recommended two-inch dowels but upon seeing the price they were asking, I told myself that I would find a way to make something more economical.
After scooping the wood chips away in a few spots, I pour the feed out on the floor. This brings them out of the corner and makes them easier to count. After making sure that they are all present, I leave them to their dinner closing them in securely behind the coop door.
In the morning the routine is similar. I lay out their breakfast outside while they excitedly gibber and squawk to be let out. Once the door is finally open they come charging out in an exuberant race to be the first at the buffet.
The rest of the day the chickens require no attention at all. They wander through the tall weeds in search of bugs, they nibble at plants, they take long luxurious dust baths and stretch, flap and run to their heart's content. From my vantage point as their chef, handmaid and butler, I have to say that they've got a pretty good life.
The birds have settled in well to their new routine. At sunset each evening I head out to bed them down with a pail of mixed feed and scratch in hand. As I approach the chicken-yard gate, I always call out saying "chick...chick...chick" to let them know that I am coming. During the day this call will bring them running from all directions to gather excitedly at my feet. In the late evening they will have already gathered indoors. Rather than venturing out, they simply answer my call with squawks and clucks.
Unfortunately they have picked the corner behind the door as their favorite site for their nightly pile-up. It is amazing how tiny of a space twenty one chickens can cram themselves into. While it is inconvenient to get through the door when they are packed so tightly behind it, I can't really complain all that much since I have yet to equip the coop with proper roosts. I actually went to the store a few days ago to pick up the recommended two-inch dowels but upon seeing the price they were asking, I told myself that I would find a way to make something more economical.
After scooping the wood chips away in a few spots, I pour the feed out on the floor. This brings them out of the corner and makes them easier to count. After making sure that they are all present, I leave them to their dinner closing them in securely behind the coop door.
In the morning the routine is similar. I lay out their breakfast outside while they excitedly gibber and squawk to be let out. Once the door is finally open they come charging out in an exuberant race to be the first at the buffet.
The rest of the day the chickens require no attention at all. They wander through the tall weeds in search of bugs, they nibble at plants, they take long luxurious dust baths and stretch, flap and run to their heart's content. From my vantage point as their chef, handmaid and butler, I have to say that they've got a pretty good life.
John_3
12:00 AM EDT