Every once in a while farmette living will put us smack in the thick of a questioning and soul searching about what it is that we are doing here. It doesn't happen very often -- after all, we are not really farmers -- but working the land and watching others work their land nudges us to think deeply about stuff that normally belongs in philosophy 101 textbooks.
Take the wetlands next to us. They provide habitats. And generate mosquitoes. And swallows. What are we doing to survive alongside these creatures? On the farmette as well, we are always talking about land use. The trees we need to plant. The way to destroy invasive without poisoning the water tables. The trees we need to save because maybe they are in communication with their neighbors -- helping them grow. Our own well water: what's in it? It's very hard water -- full of mineral. But we wont soften it. All that salt, going into the soil! So destructive.
And of course -- the things we plant here. Who does it help? Is there harm in planting a flower that properly belongs in another region altogether? I face this all the time as I seed meadows and order flowers online. Ed is an ardent environmentalist and I'm not far behind. Too, he is more respectful of animal life than just about anyone I know. And he backs it up with a steady commitment to organizations that advocate to protect animals. Cats, snowy leopards, you name it.
So how is it that we decided to raise American Bresse chickens for meat consumption?
It's complicated and we have thought and talked a lot about it in the past week. Both of us are pretty firm (and have been for decades) about avoiding meat in our diet, and when we eat it, we'll check on where it comes from, buying only that which we know to have been humanely raised and butchered. We are not perfect in this (sometimes life puts in front of you a dish of unknown meats), but we're pretty good.
But now comes the issue of chickens.
When we started keeping them (some half dozen years ago), it was for the eggs. Too, we're convinced that they deplete the tick population. We let them free range all day and we think of them as dumb but happy birds.
Except for perhaps Java (a wonderful mother hen type that was with us for years, only to be snatched by a predator not too long ago), we are not really attached to any of them. I know people love their hens. We just sort of coexist with ours. Sometimes they make us laugh. Mostly they just poop up my pathway and dig up my spring plants so I grumble a little, clean up the mess and forget about them.
And then last week Ed proposed that we raise broilers. For their meat. Not just any broiler, but the French Bresse chicken -- which, by the way, cannot be called a French Bresse bird here, because, well, you know how the French are about their terroir. It's not champagne if it's not from the French region where champagne is produced and it's not a Bresse chicken unless it was raised (lovingly I'm sure) in the Bresse region of that country. But, this rare bird has now also been hatched in America, only it is called American Bresse. It's the same breed: the red white and blue chicken that mimics the French flag! (And the American, obviously, but we'll let the French keep the commercial selling point.) It has white feathers, a red comb, and blue legs. And it's meat is exceptional. Like no other. A real delicacy.
I wont go into the details of our discussions, but they were long and had a lot of back and forth. I'm still not sure we are cut out to keep broilers. But we can't be hypocritical. We eat chicken regularly. We should be able to raise our rare Bresse chicks for the table! (Especially since you wont find them at your local grocery store. Even in a frou frou grocery store. They are very hard to come by on any side of the ocean.)
All this is just my lengthy introduction to the fact that early this morning, after a very quick walk to feed our animals...
... we drove to a farm that shockingly is only forty miles south of us. And it raises American Bresse chickens. You cannot pass on such coincidence! So close! With pullets for sale!
We picked up four hens (just in case we don't butcher them -- we'll keep them as egg layers). And we drove home and put them in an enclosure outside. (They are about 8, maybe 10 weeks old.)
Because of bird flu, they've not spent anytime outside yet. I'd say they were pretty dumbfounded by the experience. Our existing pack was pretty curious about the whole affair too.
One step at a time. For now, we have 8 hens and one rooster living here on farmette lands.
A pause for breakfast...
And then I drive out to pick up Snowdrop from cartoon drawing class. Did I tell you it's hot outside? By tomorrow we'll be breaking records. Really, really hot.
She is used to us bringing new chickens into the mix. These are especially beautiful I think. We admire them for a good long time.
(And then we pick cherries in the new orchard!)
Inside: read, lunch, play.
Wait a minute, Snowdrop! That book is not quite meant for your demographic! Still, she is curious, so I let her continue for a page or two. It's easy enough to pull her away for a spirited game of camp.
In the late afternoon I take her for her first ever tennis lesson. I know, I know -- it's hotter than hot. Tennis courts are notoriously steamy on such days. Still, she perseveres.
And wouldn't it be wonderful if she learned to love the game! Like skating (which, by the way, took place just steps away from these courts), it requires little equipment and offers a lifetime of beautiful sport. You never know where a kid's interest will take her. So far, she is on board.
In the evening, Ed and I have the job of picking up the four new girls and putting them into the coop with the others. It turns out to be far easier than we had thought. We do wonder -- once they are let loose into the fields tomorrow, will they be equally easy to corral into the coop or will they wander off and hide? Ah the mysteries of raising free-ranging chickens!
Excuse me while I go get a glass of cold water. Did I tell you? It is beastly hot outside. Surely records were set even today.
Good night, with love....
