The Minnesota Farm Woman

When I first started raising chickens about eleven years ago, I named each and every one. One year, they were Blanche, Dorothy, Sophia, and Rose, aptly named for The Golden Girls, because they were all Buff Opringtons and a lovely golden color. Another year, I named all the new chickens after female singers, and enjoyed a few years with Pheobe Snow, June Carter Cash, and Mother Maybelle Carter, just to name a few. Lucille was a friendly red chicken who would come when I called her, and I know many of you remember my sweet little Banty, Old Mum, who lived nearly nine years. Sadly, most chickens are not so long-lived, but I try to give them a happy life during their time here on earth, and in return, my egg basket is full. Last year, looking toward retirement, I decided that when these chickens pass on to that big coop in the sky, that would be it for us. By “us”, I mean “me”. HE was never too interested in raising chickens, and in fact, if I remember correctly, I was hearing the words “No, we don’t need any chickens around here” shortly before I got my first flock. Last spring, I was down to 16 hens, which was enough, although I missed picking out and raising some cute fluffy-bottomed chicks under a heat lamp in my laundry room. I missed feeding and watering and cuddling them until they got big enough to get smelly and scratch chicken poop all over the floor or until it warmed up enough to move them to the coop, whichever came first. I no longer name my chickens , because each year, there were more and more, and with that many, it is too hard for an old Farm Woman to remember all the names and faces and fluffy bottoms. Wait. I take that back. I do name them, and they are all called “Mama”, and they all come running when I call. Surprisingly, because some are quite elderly in chicken years, all 16 made it through winter and all are thriving. Spring is here, and although I am once again feeling the itch for baby chicks, I will remain strong and steadfast in my plan. If you do happen to be near the farm store and see me hovering around the brooders and giving each baby a name, please buy them before I do. HE will thank you for it.