Growing up on a farm in central Saskatchewan in the sixties and seventies, we never went hungry. The beef and pork my parents raised, the fish and wild game Dad hunted, and Mom's chickens kept our family of seven well-fed. The thing is, I didn't realize how fortunate I was then until I started buying groceries.
Every April, we went on a memorable family trip to Prince Albert. We shopped, ate at a restaurant and picked up the baby chicks Mom had ordered from the hatchery.
Mom usually made or bought our clothes through the Eaton’s or Sears catalogues. Going to the city was rare as it was a two-hour round trip from the farm. Eating at a sit-down restaurant was exciting, and the tabletop jukebox mesmerized us.
THE CHICKEN COOP
When my parents took over the family farm in 1949, the chicken coop was by the bush on the other side of the barn. It was a fair distance from the house and out of sight. The coop was weathered and sagging. Inside was a dirt floor with straw for bedding and nesting boxes for the hens to lay their eggs in.
Dad later built Mom a new chicken coop closer to the house where she could keep an eye on it. It was nestled in a sheltered spot under the overhang of the old maple trees surrounding the farmyard.
The coop had a door on the front and little doors on the sides with diagonal walkways. The chickens could go in and out to the small, attached yard enclosed with wire during the day.
MOVING DAY
On their first night on the farm, the bright yellow Cornish Cross chicks, which fit in the palm of my hand, stayed in the house in their cardboard shipping boxes. When the house grew quiet, they poked their beaks through the air holes in the box and peeped loudly into the night. We could hear them clearly from our upstairs bedrooms. The chicks eventually quieted down, only to start up again early in the morning.
After one night in the house, Mom introduced the chicks to their new home. The coop was equipped with low-slung heat lamps, red and white water dispensers and galvanized metal feeder troughs.
The water dispensers needed to be refilled (the ones you filled and then flipped over, trying not to get wet), and the feeder troughs required replenishing with pellet-style feed from a large brown bag. The chickens also got house and garden scraps when available.
THE PECKING ORDER
Chickens are intelligent creatures; they can recognize familiar people and will trip over themselves running to greet you. There is indeed a pecking order in their society. The most aggressive birds get first access to food and situate themselves in the best spots.
ROOSTERS
I never considered the chickens pets, and the roosters were not my friends. If a rooster has ever chased you down, you know what I'm talking about.
Roosters can be mean, noisy, and fight with each other if there is more than one. A rooster can bite you, beat you with its wings or claw you with its feet.
I was not fond of the rooster, but that doesn't mean he didn't have a purpose. Having a rooster kept the flock safer and calmer, as without a rooster, the most aggressive hens take over the flock and bully the others. From what I remember, you don’t need a rooster for hens to lay eggs, but if you want the eggs to be fertile and hatch, you need to have a rooster around.
If you had a rooster, you didn't need an alarm clock as they begin crowing loudly at sunrise to tell the hens it is time to wake up.
CLEANING LA COOP
There is no way to make cleaning the chicken coop glamorous. It was a hateful, hot, smelly job. My brother was much better at this task than I was, so I let him lead the project.
The new coop had a wooden floor. It was weirdly satisfying to pry up the compressed food, poop, etc., off the floor; it was like pulling up old, brittle linoleum.
I'm sure that's why moonshiners used to stash their hooch in the chicken coop; nobody wants to dig around in there.
GOODNIGHT BIRDIE
The chickens had to be secured inside their coop at night for warmth and safety. I'm not sure what the human pecking order was as to who got the job of closing the chickens in for the night, but the task was often forgotten until dark.
I was scared to walk alone on the narrow path through the long, damp grass at night. I had a flashlight, but still. Once you got to the other side of the barn, it felt like you were alone in the world. I was sure I would meet with an untimely end in the clutches of some forest creature.
Predators like foxes, raccoons, hawks, skunks, and weasels hung around looking for an opportunity to snatch chickens or eggs. Forgetting to secure the chickens provided them with easy pickings.
The chickens knew the assignment and were usually already in the coop, even if you arrived late to close up. Their quiet coos and trills drifting into the night air.
I'd secure the doors and gate and race back to the house. I usually tried to get someone else to go with me or, better yet, instead of me.
GATHERING EGGS
In the early years, mom kept laying hens to provide eggs for home use, so the old coop had nesting boxes. The new coop didn't, as we had started buying cases of eggs from the local Hutterite Colony.
If you hear someone calling a chicken an old soup chicken, they are referring to a laying hen. Producing eggs takes a physical toll, so these hens aren’t tender anymore; motherhood is aptly described.
Gathering the eggs was a chore done every morning. I was apprehensive about reaching under a sitting chicken when collecting eggs. Most chickens didn't care, but some could be cantankerous when you got in their personal space. There was something so rewarding about finding eggs and bringing them back to the house, though.
THE DAY OF RECONNING
My parents didn't keep chickens over the winter so there was a butchering day every fall, something I dreaded. This was why I didn't get too attached to the chickens.
In the days before refrigeration, it was common for people to butcher one or two chickens at a time. My parents did all the butchering in a day or two.
Farm kids see lots of things, and the image of Dad lopping a chicken's head off with an axe on a chopping block lingers.
We had a small building called a summer kitchen where the plucking, gutting, and washing of the chickens was done. Any stray feathers were removed with a blow torch during the final inspection.
It was an assembly line process with all available hands on deck. I couldn't get past the smell of wet feathers, though; that was more disgusting than shoving my arm inside the chicken to gut it. Checking out the organs was fascinating. Singed feathers have a memorable scent as well.
Holding a butchered chicken by the feet and plunging it into boiling water made it easier to pluck the feathers off by hand. Dad eventually got an electric plucking machine, which made the task less arduous.
When the birds were gutted, the hearts, livers and gizzards were kept for eating. Some people cooked the chicken feet also, but Mom didn't, thank God.
Butchering was an all-day affair. Eventually, I secured the head chef job, so I got to stay in the house to cook and do dishes instead. This arrangement suited me fine, and Mom liked it as well. She was very particular, preferring to participate in the butchering day work. Having any feather or pin feathers left behind was unacceptable.
CHICKEN ON THE MENU
Chicken is a very versatile meat. You can make many recipes: roasted, fried, or barbecued, wings, kabobs, pot pie, fingers, nuggets, soup, etc. Eggs are an essential ingredient in baking. I also enjoy bacon and eggs and egg salad piled high on fresh bread.
SOCIAL MEDIA STARS
I didn't find any pictures of me with the chickens; people barely took photos of their kids back then, let alone the chickens!
I don't see raising chickens in my future, but if that's your jam, good for you!
In recent years, raising chickens has once again become popular. You see videos of chickens all over social media. Check out the 2023 Chicken Wars on TikTok.
References to chickens are prevalent in our society. Every generation has a famous chicken or rooster character like Foghorn Leghorn, Chicken Little, or Chickeletta.
References
· walking on eggshells
· no spring chicken
· rubber chicken
· chicken feed
· you crack me up
· what came first, the chicken or the egg
· chicken out
· fly the coop
· don't count your chickens before they hatch
· bad egg
· hen party
· egg on your face
· henpecked
· madder than a wet hen
· handwriting is chicken scratch
· nest egg
· don't put all your eggs in one basket
· strut your stuff
· ruffle your feathers
· not what it's cracked up to be
Jokes
· Why was the chicken so funny? She's a real comedi-hen!
· What do you get when you cross a chicken and a ghost? A poultry-geist!
· What do you call a great chicken? Im-peck-able!
· What movies do hens like? Chick flicks!
· How do chickens send mail? In hen-velopes!
· Why did Mozart hate chickens? All they say is, "Bach, Bach, Bach!"
· Why did the chicken go to the seance? To get to the other side!
· What do chickens say when they burp? Eggs-cuse me!
· What happens to chickens who misbehave at school? They get eggs-pelled!
· What does an evil hen lay? Deviled eggs!
· What do you call a chicken crossing the road? Poultry in motion!
· Why did the chicken cross the road? This groaner is a part of popular culture. It is an iconic joke that goes back to 1847 when it was first referenced in a New York magazine. The joke was then shared around the country by travelling performers. Of course, the original answer was to get to the other side. I also like; why did the duck cross the road? Answer: because it was the chicken's day off.
Ok, ok, enough chicken jokes!
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