small holding | Country NikNaks Blog

Hens. There is something so charming about them, so quintessentially country. I am sure most people who muse about country life imagine a beautiful feathered gal flouncing along a cottage border, delicately picking out a bit of rosemary here and a spot of sage there. Eeeek! Nope. Reality check required. Lovely yes they are, and if you did have two seconds free, as a smallholder (and mother) it would be wonderful to while away an afternoon, watching their merry ways, picking and scratching the earth for bugs, and lounging in dust baths in the sunshine. So … lovely, yes but delicate they ain’t. They could churn up a manicured garden quicker than a JCB.

And oddly enough it was hens that drove our house making decision. A big garden, lovely as the ones we’d viewed were, just wouldn’t really do. The little ladies could massacre it in no time at all, and let us be honest, we would all like free range to be free range. While looking gorgeous, they are also quite mucky, for want of a better expression, pooping everywhere, continuously … nearly as much as they breath in air. Quite hilarious really, reminding me of the ladies at court in days yonder, in their great layered skirts going wherever they please! In essence, we needed a bit of scrub-land that could handle the onslaught. So great luck that we found our 1.5 acre plot. We started by bringing 10 White Sussex home to at last start our live-stock family. (Light Sussex as they are dual purpose, good layers but also good table birds – thinking like small-holders from the off). We decided to house them in the stable, building them a tall perch, hopefully too high for Mr Fox, chicken meshing the windows for safety and adding mobile nest boxes in a corner. They settled in, providing us with beautiful creamy, proud, bright, golden yoked eggs.

Our plot is surrounded by fields, and neighbours had dutifully warned of fox and badger attacks over the years in the village. With this in mind, we initially let them out of the stable (which is light and has good free-ranging space in it’s own right) only when we were in the field to ensure they got used to their housing accommodation while we acted as guards. Over-time as things went well we soon let out the gals early in the morning, they enjoyed the full field all day long, eating merrily the bugs worms and ticks! (I will write more thoroughly on the subject of ticks in future posts).

After months of chicken bliss, one darker afternoon, I roamed up as usual to plant some vegetable plugs from the greenhouse. The hens were looking somewhat startled. I could see nothing out of the ordinary, but my two labradors, Rhys and Thom thought otherwise. Despite their age they immediately started to sniff the long grass and appeared on a mission to ‘find’ something. Alarmed by their concern I hunted too alongside them, till alas I found a white trail of feathers. Heart racing I followed the feather trail … leading me to the edge of the field where it bordered with our neighbours land by a stone wall … right up to a fox den – or at least I think that is what is was drawing on my extensive knowledge of The Gruffalo with my two 3 year olds.

I shan’t repeat what I called Mr Fox, but drastic measures had to be taken for their safety. We locked them in the stable fearful that he or she should strike again, in broad daylight! Cheeky so-and-so! But what about the free ranging? Something major was needed. Something courageous and brave to protect our poor gals 24/7. After some considerable thought we came up with a plan. What about Alpacas? 🙂

Verm X Layers pellets, 20 kg for hens, great for continuously creating a non-friendly for worms gut environment day in day out, available from Amazon

Fancy Feed mixed corn for hens 20 kg, available from Amazon

Snowflake Dust Extracted Bedding 20 kg, available from Amazon

Light Sussex hen dust bathing

Our Light Sussex hens with growing chicks

Light Sussex hen in the sun

Jumping ahead a bit from the last post and to the present day, I have to share our turkey tales. The hot summer is at an end, the autumn crisp air is starting to return. A month before, despite the intense heat of 2018, we felt keenly the small-holders dream, of growing our own Christmas dinner! Quick Google search, best turkeys for the table … Norfolk Bronze, how many weeks would it take from egg to table? 20 weeks, ok we can just about fit this in (please note I’d say you would need longer and most turkey farmers start in June).

We bought the incubator and heat lamp and eagerly awaited the bronze turkey eggs. Via the post, they arrived promptly in a very well packed polystyrene box. 6 eggs. We popped them into the incubator, 28 days to go. We adhered to the rules for the correct temperature and humidity throughout the process.

Day 26: I began talking to them, and even singing – 2 rolled in response, I kid you not, even a turkey egg moves to cover it’s ears. Then nothing, not a pip. We are getting worried now, where are the turkey babes? Where are the cracks? Day 28 came and went.

Then hoorah!, day 29 one small crack appeared, followed by … a tiny hole in one of the eggs.

But alas, time ticked on and nothing followed. Back to Google. The golden rule is … don’t interfere. However, many people have and saved a bird’s life. It’s a fine line to tred and timing is key.

Well our little fellow had now been panting at the hole for days and getting nowhere, we decided to break said golden rule and start a rescue mission, we took out the egg and removed carefully some of the shell, then popped him back in. Still nothing, we repeated the process … still nothing. He continued to pant and struggle. We then helped with the membrane. This was so thick, akin to heavy duty polythene. Poor fellow couldn’t break it and not for the want of trying.

We left him overnight, thinking, hoping he would break on through. Breakfast next morning, alas, nothing at all. We’d reached the point of no return. We took the egg out and slowly, carefully helped the baby turkey from it’s shell. He was alive, just, exhausted by his journey. We made him a little nest from kitchen roll and let him rest, poor soul.

We checked the other eggs, as it was so late in the day post due hatch date. 3 had nothing at all, not even fertilised, 1 possibly had started but failed very early doors. 2 left, our little fellow and another. The another I guess was the 2nd sing song egg roller. He hadn’t made it bless, too weak to crack the egg open. OB1 was our only hope.

Step by step, he started to drink as we dipped his beak into water. We kept him warm in the incubator. He fluffed up. The little man had other issues. Very crooked feet and splayed legs. He couldn’t walk at all and kept rolling over and collapsing. Back to Dr Google. The answer? Scandals. We made a pair of lightweight cardboard bird shoes, and lightly taped his toes in the correct position with medical tape. We also made a fine tape loop around his legs to keep his splayed legs in position to give him better stability. Finally a sandpaper floor for traction. By now he had eaten turkey crumbs so we stayed optimistic. Off he and we went to bed overnight. We all kept our fingers crossed, not toes, under the circumstances.

Morning came, he looked quite perky. We removed the footwear, low and behold his feet looked much better. And wait for it, he stood on them! He wasn’t moon-walking yet but he looked pretty good. Throughout the day his legs grew stronger, and he exercised on his toes, stretching upwards. Turkey Pilates. Later on, about 5pm we removed the splayed leg brace and unbelievably he could walk with his legs together.

Our little man is now in the brood box under a heat-lamp.

Good news, he’s doing well and we are all agreed he’s not for Christmas (or Easter husband), now all we have to do is find him some turkey friends!