As far back as I can remember both my sister and my mother had the desire to own and raise chickens. Up until recently, they were forced to go without. That is until one of them purchased some land in the country where owning chickens quickly becomes a reality.
I never understood my family’s desire for owning chickens but now that I see them run to and from, free range in the yard looking for bugs and other delicious meals, and chase each other in hopes to steal the other’s newly found piece of food, do I now see the appeal. One could watch them play for days. And they supply you with eggs and cut down on the insect population around your house, which is very nice.
I also spent some time helping my sister build a chicken coop to house the chickens. Much was learned. Many fingers were injured. We took a corner of an old garage and turned it into a chicken pen. We built a nesting box and perch out of the scrap material giving them a place to sit and a place to lay eggs. Which should start happening soon. But for now, the age-old question was answered for us; the chicken came before the egg.
We still need to paint and seal the outside door and put a few more finishing touches to everything. I would like to add shingles to the top of the nesting box and perhaps add the names of each chicken to the pen somewhere.
The chicks were purchased at the beginning of spring, and they doubled in size with every visit I made. I guess I should have taken pictures of the progression. I’ll have to do that with the next batch.