The Minnesota Farm Woman

Shortly after we moved to our little farm, I received a gift from a friend ( a real Farm Woman) of some bantam chickens: Three hens and a rooster. I tried to make them feel at home by painting their  new abode and filling it with sweet-smelling straw.  My friend teased me about hanging curtains and putting a satellite dish on the roof of the coop so they could watch RFD TV. With three hens, I thought I would have a big flock of chickens in no time. Bantys are smaller chickens that (of course) lay smaller eggs. They are also known to be good layers and good mothers. The roosters can be protective of their hens, even fighting a predator to their own death.  I desperately wanted  baby chicks, but first I had to have eggs. After a short period of adjustment, I started getting them. One at a time. Every day for twelve days, I got one egg. Being the City Girl that I was, I did some research on the internet and in my poultry magazine. (Yes, there are magazines devoted to chickens!)  I sat outside in the evenings, watching my little flock in their run. They had straw and food and sunshine, but why were three hens laying only one egg a day? Were they stressed? Were they homesick? Were they showing  a City Girl who was pretending to be a Farm Woman just who rules the roost? Every evening I watched and I wondered, until one evening, the crowing started. Yes, crowing. Not from one rooster, but from one rooster and two hens. I know. I didn’t just fall off the rutabaga truck. Hens don’t crow, and roosters don’t lay eggs. So THAT’S why I was getting just one egg a day! My Farm Woman friend apparently couldn’t tell the boys from the girls, and I followed right along behind her, dumb cluck City Girl that I was. I let Little Mama sit on those 12 eggs. She was too small to cover all of them, so one of the roosters would help her by sitting beside her at night so the eggs would stay warm. Yes, I know that hens don’t crow and roosters don’t sit on eggs, but I saw it with my own eyes.  Maybe he was getting in touch with his feminine side. Maybe he was chilly  and got warm by sitting  next to Little Mama. But maybe, just maybe, he knew that being a father means being a protector and keeping your family safe and warm, no matter what you have to do. I got seven baby chicks out of that clutch of eggs. Thanks, Dad.  We couldn’t have done it without you.