Birthday Chicken

A year ago today, I was scrambling around my kitchen to finish up potato salad and make cheddar/pepper venison patties for a bonfire that night. I headed out at 12 to go to wine tastings (and wine bottle tastings) with a group of friends. We rode down the road in the Jeep with the top down. I was happy, healthy, and living it up for 25 years of life. We finished up the night with said bonfire, lots of wine and beer straight out of plastic tubs, the Jeep flood lights on for light, fireworks and a styrofoam container of shrimp that the neighbors dropped off halfway through the night.

It was a good time.

This year?

Oh, I will have a great time. It is just so very different from what I did a year ago, though even then I think my mentality was veering off course for what my friends considered “normal.” Tonight will still end with a bonfire, some good food, and likely some wine and beer. I’ll still ride the Jeep to get where I’m going

But my 26th birthday will pan out a little differently.

You see, after we run some errands like picking up chicken feed, clean out the coop and brooder, and maybe even get some watermelons planted, we’re heading back over to Green Hill Farm for Maryland Homesteading Days. And aside from last night’s class on wine tasting, this afternoon’s classes talking about gardening/composting and canning/preserving, we signed up for rabbit processing and raising. I saw the fryers last night and I’m trying not to think about how cute they are.

And we may try to get into the chicken processing class to boot–and whether or not we’re allowed in the class, four of our roosters are going to be dispatched this evening.

Good riddance, too. I’ve caught two of the roosters now picking on my hens.

But, to honor their contribution and especially the one beautiful and quite hen-friendly rooster, some pictures.

The prettiest and the nicest of the four Olive Egger roos. He crows a lot and he’s just beautiful, but I don’t have the space for two breeding projects so he has got to go.
The picker.
The first of all to crow at 6 weeks.
This is the one I always hoped wasn’t a boy. I named “her” “Big Momma” the day before she crowed. I feel less bad now that I’ve seen him attack the smallest Delaware.
Bye bye, boys. Let’s hope I have a few days of crow-free mornings once you’re gone.

2 thoughts on “Birthday Chicken”

  1. Great photos. I’m looking forward to increasing my flock once we get the summer out of the way. Oh, and Happy Birthday – you’re so young! 🙂

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