As soon as Jason saw the place we are now living in in Reservoir he immediately decided we were getting chickens. He talked about it while we packed our boxes and I didn't want to shut him down too soon but seriously...chickens were going to be way too much work and we had other things on.
We weren't even close to settled in when we went exploring the old Thomo trash and treasure market. I'll call it this because that's it's real name – even though I usually resist calling Thomastown 'Thomo' – a long story about growing up north side that I won't tell now.
So, we had heard that there were chickens for sale and we were right! (And also soap without packaging and the old school real hot jam doughnuts, so it wasn't a bad day at all.)
The started asking myself loads of questions and feeling really anxious...
How was I going to fit in extra chores?
Would they become the victim of foxes and would I have a nervous break down if I woke up to a blood bath?
What would we do with them if our living arrangements changed?
Would I be scared to touch them?
It turned out that Jason said he would manage all of the chook requirements and he recruited our four year old niece Matilda (currently living next door) as his assistant. They would get them out together in the morning and feed them, let them scratch around all day and Matilda would put them away after kinder. Slowly I realised that if a 4 year old isn't scared to pick up a chicken then I shouldn't be either. After chasing after them a few nights in a row I perfected my 'approach from the back and quickly swoop in' approach and I am fine now.
I have come to realise that chickens are amazing. You don't need to play with them, so they don't take up a lot of time, but they are always there keeping you company while you are hanging the washing out.
We have had lots of friends visit and Ronnie and Emma are super friendly. We have had a least 2 offers to house them if our living arrangements change and I feel sad about the idea of them not being with us one day.
I have forgotten them out one or two nights and come home in darkness to two chickens huddled on my front door step and lots of crap to clean up. I felt like a bad mum forgetting them out there. I started imagining them shivering and counting down the minutes until I got home to save them and put them to bed. Finally I realised I was being dramatic. It's probably unlikely that foxes are out at 9pm (as opposed to 3am) and I just popped them in their coop and they lived another day.
We are getting lots of eggs! So many eggs now that I can start giving them away. At the beginning they were small and looked a little odd, but now they look just the way you would want them to. A great size with a nice fresh yellow yolk.