Author: Anna & Mark

Planting into the pasture terraces

Pasture mapWith
the
first round of terraces dug
and anchored, it was time to plant some
perennials for long-term soil stability (and eventual chicken
feed).  I’d already established a mulberry and three bush cherries
(which will provide summer fruits) on the natural terrace near the
bottom of the pasture, so I opted to add in persimmons for fall and
winter fruit.  (
You
can read my plans for grafting Asian scionwood onto the American
rootstocks here
.)



In the long run, the
persimmons should have large root systems, but at the moment, they’re
tiny twigs a fraction of the size of a pencil.  Clearly, I needed
some more immediate
Logs holding loose soil in placesoil-holding plants, and I
had lots of
comfrey waiting to be divided. 
I stuck one hunk of comfrey into the ground every foot or two along the
retaining wall on the downhill side of the middle terrace, figuring the
plants will probably fill in the gaps within a year or two.




The next round of
planting will come in the spring when I’ll seed cover crops to cover
the bare ground.  In the meantime, I
hauled
rotting wood out of the forest
to hold the loose soil and
to add humus to what’s essentially all subsoil.  I’ll keep you
posted once I decide what kinds of annuals to plant.



Our chicken waterer is the POOP-free solution
for healthy chickens.

Chicken-shares

Chicken tractor

In a recent
interview
, I was
asked to share stories of early lessons learned on the farm.  I
mentioned our ill-fated attempt to become mule skinners, but I might
just as well have talked about our first chickens.




Young homesteadAlthough I’d
had chickens in the past
, Mark and I didn’t have any
poultry when the time came to move to our farm six years ago.  We
also didn’t have the cash to buy them, so it might have taken us a
couple of years to become chicken-keepers if one of our neighbors
hadn’t stepped in.




This neighbor loved
fresh eggs and had plenty of cash, but as an actor, he had to be ready
to jump in the car to drive to Atlanta on a moment’s notice and
couldn’t take care of a flock.  He suggested a compromise — how
about he pay for the birds, we do the caretaking, and all three of us
split the eggs?




A hundred bucks bought
twenty point-of-lay pullets, and boy did they ever lay.  Our
neighbor ate perhaps a dozen eggs a week, and we hadn’t yet learned the
true joy homegrown eggs, so we did the same.  That left another
eight dozen or so eggs to deal with every week…and we barely knew
anyone in the area to give or sell them to!




Chicken tractor clearing weedsSoon, we’d offloaded two-thirds
of the birds onto my father, which left a more manageable flock (which
we were able to feed on our limited income).  Those birds were the
inspiration for Mark’s
chicken waterer invention and also helped me
learn a lot about permaculture and farm ecology, so they were worth
every egg-filled day.  But if you have plans to follow our lead,
you  might want to do things a little differently.




Actually, I think
chicken-shares are a pretty good idea, as long as you start out with
the right number of hens.  To make economic sense for the main
caretaker of the birds, though, the investor should probably kick in
some percentage of the feed bill as well as paying the startup
costs.  You’ll also need to think ahead to what happens two years
hence when the flock is declining in laying vigor — who will kill the
birds, who gets the stewing hens, and how will new chicks come on the
scene?




Has anyone else had
experience with a chicken-share?  I’d be curious to hear about
your own adventures.

The traditional chicken coop

Chicken jumping out of a traditional chicken coop.Although
we considered trying to domesticate the hen and rooster we saved during
that snowy winter, my first foray into chicken keeping came almost a
decade later.  I was living on the farm owned by Mark’s aunt and
uncle.  The old log barn halfway down the driveway had a chicken
coop attached, and when I showed an interest in livestock, I was
quickly given a dozen or so hens and a rooster to put in the coop — a
mixture of Buff Orpingtons and Australorps.




The coop was large and
airy, and had a large run attached, but before we knew it the ground
was scratched down to bare earth.  This is the way the majority of
Americans raise their chickens, and at the time I didn’t know any
better.  The eggs were still better than storebought, but the hens
didn’t lay much in the winter and the yolks were nowhere near as yellow
as those we get from our hens today.




Emptying out a traditional chicken watererHere
I am emptying out their poopy chicken waterer.  Mark hadn’t
arrived on the scene yet, so I spent a lot of time pounding frozen
waterers against the ground to knock the ice out and lugging buckets of
water down the hill.  Now, of course, we’d install one of our
automatic chicken waterers and at least clean up that
portion of the coop.




Mark’s aunt grew up with
chickens, raised in the traditional farm style.  She told me that
her family always cut a fresh red cedar to put in the coop each
year.  They believed that the cedar kept lice and other bugs away.

This post is part of our Chicken Pasturing Systems series
Read all of the entries: