Is there anything more joyous than new life coming into this world? Albeit, the planet is a slightly frightening place these days…
Anyway, as many of you have come to understand, I’m a proud bird enthusiast – a lover of the fancy fowl. Following a rather rocky start to the year where we lost the stunner that was Boss (I should never have showed him off in this magazine!), we appear to be back on track, with claws and beaks crossed.
Like sheep, chickens seem intent on death. Either that, or they live beyond their years, as demonstrated by Cedric II who crowed well into his teens. However, it doesn’t take much for them to be dissatisfied and the next thing you know, they’re popping off left, right and centre.
But, as with anything worth doing in life, we persist. So here we are, nurturing seven bundles of feathery fluff in our dining room following a successful round of incubation (thank you Brinsea – other brands of incubator are available). For anyone interested, they’re partridge brahma and as far as poop machines go, they’re utterly delightful.
The first round – under broody hen Bette – sadly didn’t make it, hence these guys are rather late to the party after some electronic help. To be honest, I question Bette’s commitment – she had a diva moment and decided her maternity suite was inadequate, thus the eggs never hatched.
Undoubtedly, the experience has reconnected me with my inner child, which being a rather stoic person, is something I rarely do. The anticipation and excitement as each egg hatched; watching intently as they entered the world. Of course, I found it rather emotional.
The entire thing is fascinating and mind-blowing at the same time, just 21 days and there’s life – it’s magical. I look at them now, the mini dinosaurs that they are, and feel happy. For someone who can struggle to feel this way, I have much to thank the wee bairns for.
Who would have thought hatching a few eggs would bring such unabridged joy to my life? Furthermore, sharing the experience with my friends’ children has elevated that joy even further; it’s been special.
Now, I’m certainly not naïve enough to think we’re home and dry. Experience tells that where any form of livestock is concerned, one should expect the unexpected. So we shall take these chicks one day at a time and remain ever hopeful that we make it through to the spring.
Needless to say, I’m hooked. That incubator was the best thing I’ve bought in a very long time.
This article was taken from the latest issue of CPM. Read the article in full here.
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