Well, I did it. Finally. And, none too late. Okay, almost too late by the time I got up the nerve to make the call.

For about a year now, I have been researching chickens. Not to mean I knew NoThINg of chickens, my mom and aunt had chickens. As did my husband. I knew a little, okay, very little. I never bothered to ask and wasn’t around much between 17 and 27. I knew my mom had some mean Rhode Island Reds and that every time I came home she’d send me to get eggs and I swear they all hated me. I think they sensed my fear. Mom said I was being “silly”. Those pecks didn’t feel very silly.

Anyway, I digress.

I did as much research as I could online, tried to find the right chicken w/ the right characteristics. There are a lot of chickens out there. At some point you have to talk to people. Hopefully people in your area. Where do you buy them, which breed thrives well in our colder winter climes and hot summers, most docile, etc… So, I tried to find people to ask questions of that wouldn’t treat me like “those city folk who don’t know nothin’ about the country, and are lookin’ to have chickens, pigs, cattle and gardens, like they wanta be one of us.” Um, okay. That was my husbands comment when I told him that I called the local Farm & Garden and the owner was a bit rude to me at first, until I dropped my last name and bluffed my way through words like pullet and sexing. My instant recall of “Chickens 101″ didn’t immediately pull those definitions to mind.

But, I did it. I found out that the “common” chickens are the same ones that I had narrowed down in my exhaustive search- RIR, Barred Rock, Sex Links and others, and that the “exotic” chickens were a couple of the others I really wanted, Aracauna, Americana, Cornish Cross. Exotics are much, more expensive than common chickens. Oh, and did you know you can get pullets or hatchlings. And that the hatchlings they get from the hatchery aren’t sexed?!? Still working on this one.

The beginning of my conversation w/ the owner went like this:

Me: I heard you sell baby chicks there.

Owner: We don’t sell them.

M: Oh, I was told I could get them from you.

O: Well, you can order them from me.

M: Well, yes, that’s what I mean. Can I get baby chicks from you?

O: You can order them from me.

Aghh… according to my husband, who knows said owner, this was the point, right in the beginning, that I was pegged as being one of those “outsiders, who think they can live off the land like the rest of us”.  Again, my husband. Man, he really needs to get clue. These comments from an educated man who lived in the city with me for 10 years!

By the end of the phone call, I found out you have to order at least 25 of one breed, no mixing and matching and that they were placing the last order the next day by noon. The chicks will be in April 25th, give or take a day or two and when they call we need to show up by 4pm that day or they place them on sale at 7am the next morning. Oh, and they’ll be a day old when they arrive.

My husband to his credit has started on the chicken coop and has cut up the cedar posts and drawn a plan. Just like his family’s chicken coop when he was growing up. I asked him the other day when he was showing me dimensions if he’s ever heard of the bubblegum theory. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want chickens or this life, to me it just seems that he’s really busy w/ his job and keeping food on the table and he figures this is my “thing”. Home stuff, kid stuff- my stuff. And he figures right. But, up to the point of actual ordering and a date of chicken delivery, I wasn’t sure if it was really going to happen or if he had just been placating me the last 2 years to keep me out of the looney bin. 

Too, I suppose I didn’t figure the learning curve on this farming thing  would be so high, since he’s been here and done this. But, maybe he’s bluffing his way through and doesn’t remember a thing. Yeah, that thought keeps me happy until he pulls some completely unknown fact out of his head that shows he really does know what is going on. Or, maybe not. Oh, I don’t know!! Husband have a really great way of coming across dumb when they want to.

Anyway, I decided upon 25 Buff Orpington Pullets. I haven’t completely researched the food area yet and am not sure what they’ll be eatin at first and for how long, but I figure I’ll have it figured out in the next month. If not, I’ll send my hubby to pick up the chicks and feed. Because it will go something like this:

Hubby: Hey Bob, those chicks in?

Owner: Yup. How’s your dad doing these days? Still driving a logging truck? (I hear this query all the time. It’s been over 20 years!)

Hubby: Nah. He sold his rig. Hey, you got something to feed those chicks?

Owner: Yup, I’ll throw it in w/ your chicks.

Hubby: Thanks Bob, have a good one.

Owner: Yup, you too. You tell your dad hi for me.

Go figure…