So when my wife asked what I wanted for my birthday this year, the only absolute answer I had was "no more 'things'". Then a few days later I said, "You know, the feed store in Monroe has cornish x birds. I think what I want is to raise a few and try them. Think of it like buying me a chicken dinner about six weeks in advance." To my surprise, she agreed, but wanted to know how many. "Four," I said, "to keep things simple as a trial run. I can brood them in the cage and keep them in the small pen till they are ready to go to camp."
The next day she said "You know, those birds often don't survive. Go ahead and get six." Last night I was explaining my cunning plan to raise meat birds and my wife said "You know, six isn't really enough. What if they are good?" and who am I to argue? So it's ten now.
I love that woman.
As we got ready to leave this morning she said "Remember the animal rules (no animals we don't agree on)?" and I most certainly did. "How many are you getting?" she asked, and I said ten, and then she paused and said "twelve." So I planned on four. I agreed to six. I have twelve in the brooder, doing the normal cornish thing, which to me looks weird - they are doing two of four actions in three combinations:
Food is at one end and the water is at the other, and the proper location of a meaty appears to be right in between the two.
These little ones are about a week old according to the feed store, and they are large for that age - actually have weight to them (not saying they are table material, but your average week old chick is feather light - these guys...not so much). And for week old chicks, they sure don't care much for the heat lamp. My surface thermometer says that they should be nestled just underneath it, but they are bedded down quite comfortably in a 70 degree area. I have an 8x8 area where I intended to raise four (actually, two 8x8 areas, so hat I can move it over and shovel the manure into the wheel barrow. I have the compost box ready to go (with a bunch of compost already in). I have a hundred pounds of feed in the bucket (which is about as much as I like to keep on hand)
What have I gotten myself into?
The next day she said "You know, those birds often don't survive. Go ahead and get six." Last night I was explaining my cunning plan to raise meat birds and my wife said "You know, six isn't really enough. What if they are good?" and who am I to argue? So it's ten now.
I love that woman.
As we got ready to leave this morning she said "Remember the animal rules (no animals we don't agree on)?" and I most certainly did. "How many are you getting?" she asked, and I said ten, and then she paused and said "twelve." So I planned on four. I agreed to six. I have twelve in the brooder, doing the normal cornish thing, which to me looks weird - they are doing two of four actions in three combinations:
- Eating and crapping.
- Drinking and crapping.
- Sleeping and crapping.
Food is at one end and the water is at the other, and the proper location of a meaty appears to be right in between the two.
These little ones are about a week old according to the feed store, and they are large for that age - actually have weight to them (not saying they are table material, but your average week old chick is feather light - these guys...not so much). And for week old chicks, they sure don't care much for the heat lamp. My surface thermometer says that they should be nestled just underneath it, but they are bedded down quite comfortably in a 70 degree area. I have an 8x8 area where I intended to raise four (actually, two 8x8 areas, so hat I can move it over and shovel the manure into the wheel barrow. I have the compost box ready to go (with a bunch of compost already in). I have a hundred pounds of feed in the bucket (which is about as much as I like to keep on hand)
What have I gotten myself into?