Chickens

Every year or two we would grow our own chickens to be raised for meat.  We loved going with mom to pick up the chickens for the first time.  They would come in a few big boxes, with spots for a few chickens at a time separated out. Mom would make us wait in the car while she checked that the chicks were healthy and the right count.

Then we would drive them home and put them in the chicken coop.  They would be so cute and little and yellow. They would huddle all together under the heat lamps.  We loved to watch them and could be in there for hours holding them and feeding them food out of our hands.

It was always hard when they were young. We would go out to check or play with the chicks and often you would see one that was hurt, or just not thriving.  Sometimes they would get little scabs on them and all the other chicks would not leave them alone.  I remember running to tell mom when there was a little hurt chick and she would often come and check to see if he was really ill.  Mom always got the worst job and would have to step on the little chick's head to put it out of its misery.  She was/is so tough!

The chicks would quickly grow into the "teenage" stage.  The yellow feathers would start to fade and white ones would come in.  One or two years we had laying hens and they were a different color at birth.  We always thought it was fun to take a laying hen and pretend it was our pet and bring it out in the yard.  Often the laying hens would roam the yard and eat during the years.

When it came time to butcher the chickens it was always a lot of work.  We had to put them all in the shed and then let out five or so at a time.  Grandma always came to help, and it was much needed.  Us kids helped a lot too.  Mom would get the best job again of actually killing the chicken and plucking it with the plucker.  Then we would get the excess feathers off and gut them.  We had a whole line of what you were in charge of.  I remember getting off the bus a few days and knowing I ended to change to go and help with the chickens.

I have never tasted a better chicken than what we use to grow.  It took a lot of time and effort but it was well worth it.  Not only was the meat worth it, but the whole experience we gained from the hard work and caring for something other than ourselves at such a young age.

Lauren