Last spring I told you guys about the seventy-five (!) baby chicks that we ordered and received via Canada Post. The twenty-five “meat chickens” from that shipment all died peaceful deaths while listening to Yanni. (That’s not the truth; Matthew butchered them.)(Off with their heads!)(They make rather tasty roasted dinners.)
The remaining fifty chicks grew up to be full-sized hens who like to pop out eggs on a regular basis and while Matthew still has a wait list of people who want to purchase them, he’s been able to add a few more people to his weekly delivery schedule. We plan to get some more baby chicks (Whee!) soon and by the fall there will be more eggs. Eggs for everyone! You get eggs! You get eggs! You get eggs!
(Not quite as exciting as getting a car, but I think that some people around here feel that it’s pretty close.)
While I would never have (suggested, or) taken on this endeavor, Matthew loves is all. He is the happiest when he is outdoors, whether he is puttering in the yard, working in the garden, fishing, snowmobiling, etc. Dealing with his “ladies” is something he truly enjoys, be it filling their water or giving them food or treating them to apples from a friend’s orchard. I love to be outdoors as well (See: Running/hiking/skiing) but using a rake to keep the rooster at bay while collecting eggs isn’t something that fulfills me.
I’m happy that he does it all, because we try to eat and live as sustainable as we can, but it can be a lot of work. It’s definitely not a money-making venture but there are some benefits (farm status) that reduce other living expenses and it makes sense from a financial perspective. Plus, did I mention that he loves it? Happy wife, happy life comes to mind but I can’t think of a word to rhyme with husband. Happy Matt, he’s all that?
I do what I can to help Farmer Matt with all that he does (Happy Matt!) and I’ve recently taken over the egg-washing duties. On Sunday afternoon I spent at hour scrubbing chicken poop off of fourteen dozen eggs, which was … fine. More than fine, actually. He was working at the kitchen table, the kids were Just Dancing downstairs and I popped my ear buds in and turned my music way, way up. One hour of being disconnected, of listening to great music, and of decompressing from a busy weekend was great for clearing my head.
I may be a city girl at heart and love weekends in Vancouver or Toronto or New York, but I love our space out here in the sticks. It makes me happy that we’re continually taking steps to a more sustainable life, even if it involves ornery roosters, a scrub pad, and caked-on chicken poop.