Alright friends, this is part two in our guide to incubating and hatching out your own eggs. Earlier we talked about collecting eggs for hatching and choosing your incubator. Now that you have your hatching eggs patiently waiting on standby, and your incubator cleaned and ready to go.. just sitting there, watching you. Whispering to you as you walk by. Taunting you. Begging to be plugged in, allowing you to bask in the soft glow of a dimly lit lightbulb. It’s time, kemosabe. Time to warm up that incubator and anxiously wait three weeks for a tiny crack in an egg. Part two in our beginner’s guide to incubating and hatching eggs is all about setting up your incubator, setting the eggs and things to do to help you pass the time so you don’t drive yourself crazy staring at a glowing styrofoam box.
There comes a time in every farmer/homesteader’s lives where you fall victim to peer pressure and you break down and buy an incubator so that you can hatch your own chickens. It’s ok, you made the right decision. Hatching out your own eggs is the funnest! Hatching out your own eggs and watching that first baby chick pip through the shell is truly a farming/homesteading miracle. The first time can be intimidating, but don’t be nervous! I’m here to hold your hand through it. We’ll get through it together, and then you’ll be hooked. Here’s the first installment of our beginner’s guide to incubating eggs and hatching out your own baby chicks!
Last week I started a new series all about my adventures in cooking for boys. Last week was all about beef and blue sliders, this week I’m giving you a recipe for the morning after. You know the drill, everyone comes over in the afternoon, drinks well into the evening. Maybe the party moves from the porch to the swimmin’ hole and we gather around a giant bonfire. Maybe there’s another beer run. Maybe a push-up/arm wrestling contest. Maybe that’s followed up by a real wrestling contest. Maybe everyone strips down to their skivvies and jumps in the creek. Maybe an entire handle or two of Jim Beam is consumed. Maybe some Jagermeister as a night cap. Maybe some folks don’t make it back to the house. Maybe they just sleep wherever they fell down. I mean…maybe. No matter how the night goes, the morning always ends up the same… the kitchen is trashed and all of the boys are slowly starting to wake up, and crave bacon like zombies craving brains.
When we first got into raising chickens, we researched many different breeds. We knew that we wanted to get buff orpingtons because they’re a great utility breed. Then we were gifted three Easter Eggers and immediately fell in love with them. But we knew we wanted to raise a whole flock of one specific breed to keep in a dedicated coop. A breed that was really special, unique or rare. It wasn’t long before we discovered the marans breed. They’re a rare breed that lays a coppery-chocolate colored egg, which is really badass. They’re also James Bond’s favorite egg… mega badass. We had to have them.
I really wanted chickens. I wanted them really bad. The farm already had a great coop on the property inside a large, fenced in chicken run. All I had to do was insert chickens… and learn how to take care of them. One Saturday in May, our good friends John and Lanette brought us over five chickens and the rest is history. I had chicken fever. Here’s a looksie around our coop.