Pullet Palace I used to think people regarded me as a little odd, dreaming as I was for 15 years of moving to the country and having chickens. Granted, I could have become a "backyarder" in the city. My neighbor down the street managed to get a variance and permission to have 4 chickens in the city limits. But that sounded like a tease to me. I wanted the whole boat: land, a big old house, chickens, a large garden, and hopefully other animals. In 2008 we found this place, just 13 miles out, on 5 acres, with a beautiful old farm house. My husband agreed to look at it, we both fell in love, and put an offer in two days later. We even missed a music concert we had paid hefty ticket prices for because I wanted to meet with the realtor at the earliest possible moment. I just couldn't risk someone plunking in an offer ahead of us!
We moved in on May 30, 2008. The following spring we worked like little bees converting a garden shed into a coop, and plowed up the side yard for a garden. We ordered 25 pullets and anxiously awaited chick arrival day. They arrived May 11 and I thought there was some mistake -- the box was no bigger than a shoebox. I asked the postmaster if I could peek in to verify all were alive. There were 26. They were alive and well. I raised them up for a few weeks, then gave 7 to my brother, including one rooster, leaving us with 19. We are now swimming in eggs. Our co-workers and neighbors love buying our eggs. We love eating them too, but the chickens are really it for me. They beat T.V. anyday.