I never took myself for a "poultry person" until the first time I brought home day old chicks from the local farm supply store. 

I've been raising chicks from one-day-old every spring and summer since, both laying breeds and meat breeds, and even trying my hand at hatching out our own (although as luck would have it, we got 10 out of 11 roosters that year!).

But it was my first bunch of Blue Slate turkeys from Cackle Hatchery that really sent me head-over-heels in love with poultry and especially, with turkeys. 

And what an odd love affair this has been.  

Turkeys have an undeserved negative reputation.  Far from being stupid, (and no, turkeys will absolutely not stand out in the rain and look up and drown, so if you've ever said that, please stop it immediately) I have found them to be the most social, the most curious and the most gregarious of all of the domestic birds on our property. 

Their faces are divine studies in theatrical performances, as their heads and necks turn from a pale pink to vivid tones of blues and reds whenever they are near an object of attention - either the hens, or more often, us. 

The names of the parts of their heads are also delightful - from the snood hanging over their beak, which stretches and elongates when they strut, to the caruncles on their head and necks, which also engorge and turn brilliant red during a strut. 

{And yes, for turkeys, snood length does matter, with longer snoods winning the hearts of hens and usually determining the dominance level of the tom.} 

An adult turkey has 5,000-6,000 feathers, from the long proud tail feathers to the tiniest of tiny feathers on the tops of their heads, which appear like an angelic halo (look closely at several pics on this page to see this).  These beautiful feathers are not just for looks, either, as a turkey can fly up to 40 mph and in the wild, naturally roosts in trees. 

Their big brown (or blue) eyes are keenly sharp, as any hunter with a goal to bag one can attest to, their field of vision encompassing 270° and even seeing in color.  

But it's not the many fine attributes that I fell in love with, although they make it all the more justifiable. 

It's the essence of the turkey personality, the "turkeyness of the turkey," so to speak. 

It's the way the babies are so calm when you put your hand into the brooder, coming up in serious earnestness to investigate your fingers, and their escalating peep, PeeP, PEEP! when excited. 

It's the hens that will curl up in my lap for a snooze, or fly up and roost on my head, or sneak up behind me to steal the gloves out of my pocket, darting away in an exuberant game of "keep-away."

Mostly, turkeys are just darn good company. 

And that, my friend, is good enough reason for me to fall in love. 

Cheers - 

There are two sets of constant companions on our farm. One is the cats, especially Karma, who seems to feel it her duty to oversee every detail of our tasks.

The other is our small flock of Sweetgrass turkeys, who strut about each one trying to outdo the other and impress us with their talents. 

Today we had the pleasure of both as we advanced our "replace-the-turkey-townhouse-floor" project. 

A few weekends ago we removed the rotted out floor. Last weekend a layer of rocks and dirt were hauled in, and today hardware cloth was put down. Next weekend, with any luck, new boards will top the wire. 

The jakes like to chase Karma whenever they can, but since she is close to fearless, she stays within close range despite the likelihood of a chasing. They don't seem bent on real damage, and with a couple of bounds they give up the chase. In turn she chases the Sweetgrass hens whenever she can. 

Mojo tempered his fear of the turkeys by overseeing from within the trailer, safely outside of the turkeys' vision. 

Cheers -

The peeps are about 5 days old now, and as always I am enjoying them immensely.

Despite their diminutive size, they are full of personality and curiosity. 

They bring the spirit of new life, and hope, to a part of winter that I often struggle with, the part that seems to drag on forever, spring a distant memory. 

My daily dose of cheer, these babies. 

In case you're curious about what breeds we got this time, in Papa's hands are a Wellsummer (brown), a Black Sex Link, and an Ameraucana.

Wellsummers are a breed from Welsum, Holland, best known as the rooster on the Kellog's box. She will lay dark brown eggs.

Black Sex Links are a cross between a Rhode Island Red rooster and a Barred Rock hen. Differences in color of the newly hatched chicks are gender related, allowing for easy sorting of pullets and cockerels. She will lay light brown eggs.

Ameraucanas come in many colors, from light to dark. They lay light blue or green eggs. 

In the top photo on the page, two Buff Orpingtons exchange peep news. One of our all-time favorites, buffs are sweet tempered and curious. They also lay light brown eggs.

This is the earliest we've ever started pullets (young female chickens). It is our hope that they will be laying well before our older girls molt in the fall, a natural process that takes so much energy from the hen that she stops laying eggs for up to 3 months.

These little sweeties are our guarantee for non-stop eggs throughout that period. 

And non-stop entertainment for the next 9 months as they grow in feathers, size and individual personalities.

Cheers- 

The newest batch of peeps has arrived from Cackle Hatchery!

One of my very favorite days of the year on this farm, right up there with hatching turkeys, new lambs and new crias. 

Hard to believe these tiny little fluffs traveled for two days inside this cardboard box.

Mother Nature has given them the gift of being able to absorb nutrition from their yolk right before they hatch, giving them 2-3 days worth of sustenance before they need to eat and drink.  

In nature, mama hen would stay on her nest with her hatched and unhatched babies for a couple of days, waiting for the rest to hatch, before bringing the chicks out of the nest for food and water. Absorbing the yolk allowed the babies who hatched first to wait around with mama until her siblings hatched out and they could all go out for a bite. 

Hatcheries have learned to take advantage of this little window of time in order to mail the birds to new homes.  

At about 8:00am this  morning I got the call from the local post office saying they had my chickens, and off I ran to pick them up and bring them home. 

And then the fun begins. 

After opening up the box and making sure they look OK, I take them out one-by-one, say a little "welcome to our farm" and dip their beaks in the water and food dishes. 

And then I sit and watch and sit and watch and occasionally think about all the other things I should be doing,... then sit and watch some more. 

All of these little cuties "should" be pullets, a term for a young female chicken before she starts to lay eggs.  Occasionally we do get a rooster in the mix.  The sorting method is not 100% accurate. 

I purchase new pullets every spring, because in the fall, all of my chickens will molt their feathers, a process that takes a lot of energy from the hens, during which they stop laying eggs for up to 3 months as they focus on regrowing their feathers again. 

If I can time things correctly, these new babies will be laying eggs by then, filling in the gap while my older hens molt. 

At least that's the plan.  I'm still tweaking the number of birds I need to buy each spring to get the right number of eggs for what we need and what people would like to get from us. 

I think we got it right this time with twenty new chicks.  

Then again, can you ever have too many peeps?

Cheers - 

I visited Nordic Fest in Decorah, IA last weekend, revisiting a place I have not visited for over 30 years a very long time.

A place that I have been able to trace my obsession with chickens all the way back to.

I have only 2 memories of the Nordic Fest - one, that it was always bloody hot, which meant that me and my sister, with our North Shore of Lake Superior cool climate bodies (read: a hot summer day would be, oh, 75 degrees) wanted nothing to do with the outside events, opting instead to meander from store to store in seek of A/C; and two - one of the stores that had A/C and also had baby chickens was the Decorah Hatchery.

Therefore, most of my Nordic Fest memories revolve around spending hours in the hatchery ogling the racks and racks of baby birds and eventually winning the trust of the shop keepers enough to be allowed to take them out and handle play with them.

Which of course led the way to my current collection obsession.

Naturally.

Cheers -

There are so many simple things in my life that make me furiously happy.

3-day old broiler chicks exploring a clump of grassy sod in their kiddie-pool brooder.

Spending an hour at dusk capturing light with my new 50mm lens.

A surprise sun shower and a rainbow that ends over our Aistream camper.  (No pot of gold though, I checked).

Farmer's market flowers in the last light of the day.

Grapes on our grapevine.

A thermometer large enough I can read it from the kitchen window and can stop obsessively checking weather.com to see just how hot it is every other minute.  (We had a 3-day reprieve from the excessive heat when I snapped this photo, but the heat is baaacccckkkk).

A new rain gauge.  It's bone dry, which does NOT make me happy.  But having one makes me feel like I really belong in the country.

Sleeping cats, especially their paws.

A frozen peach after moving electric netting in 90-degree heat.

Making silly shadows in the back pasture.

Wet bandannas and a fan.

Crazy looking chickens.

A gathering of friends.

Happy sheep.

What makes you furiously happy?

Cheers -