Last night, I moved our group of twenty 10-week-old chickens (from a McMurray batch delivered back in November) out of the small coop into the big coop with the rest of the flock, which brought the flock size up to around 85. Time for some thinning. The roosters from a batch of chicks we hatched from eggs I bought up in Amish country, as well as the ones from a bunch of chicks we got at the flea market, were just starting to crow and feel their randy hormones kicking in. It took me four hours today, but I processed fourteen young roosters this morning. I left one of the flea market ones alive because they're so pretty. We think they're Icelandic chickens, or very closely related. It was so cold when I got to the plucking part that my water cooled down too much after just two. Plucking the third one wasn't going well at all so I got ticked off and just skinned them. As tiring as it is to do them all at once, it's nice to know we're putting away enough chicken that I don't have to do it again for a couple of months (when the McMurray ones will need thinning). Dead roosters on my tailgate, which I use as a table. The pretty multi-colored ones to the left are the ones we think are Icelandic. They're a gorgeous breed, whatever they are. Inside for the washing and gutting at the kitchen sink. My wife really appreciates me when I do this. The bottom of the kitchen fridge is loaded with fresh meat. Spillover into the laundry room fridge. Our LGD George, taking his job with the rest of the flock very seriously.