Winterizing Your Hens

This post is primarily for our Hens for Rent customers, but maybe it could be useful for anyone going from having easy breezy summer hens to hardy winterized year-round hens. 

HOUSING

The first thing folks tend to worry about is housing. Thankfully the hens don't care about aesthetics so that can be a detail you fill in later, at your own standards. :) The most important thing is having roughly the right sized coop for the size of your flock. Too big and they won't be able to keep warm with their body heat. Too small and they'll be producing too much heat and moisture and you'll have condensation and ammonia problems. I would rather have it a bit too big, not only to compensate for chicken math which inevitably results in more hens in the future, but also because it's easier to warm up a coop than get rid of moisture. 

Frankly, a crappy old shed or baby barn will more than suffice. 

So you want to avoid drafts, but you do want some opportunity for air to cycle, so don't just plastic wrap a whole coop and run. It needs to breathe.

I don't typically recommend a heat lamp over the long term because they are a true fire hazard in barns, especially with dry bedding and hens are much more resilient than you think, but if there are prolonged temperatures below -20 outdoors, we will put one near the nest boxes to prevent frozen eggs. We mostly only run it in the morning, having it on a time to go out by noon. 

Our winter coop is not insulated or heated. We do put plastic up over the drafty windows once deep winter temps set in, but take it off as soon as seems reasonable so that air can cycle. Chickens are really excellent at providing their own heat. 

WATER

Water is probably the most limiting and annoying part of winter housing for hens. It will freeze and there are a variety of ways to deal with it, including the most basic of providing an open, low bucket they can drink from which you'll have to dump the ice out of and refill a couple times a day. They will survive on this just fine. There are also electric-heated watering options that will stay thawed, but I don't know if they run on a thermostat or if they're maintaining a temperature all the time, therefore not cheap to keep plugged in. We opt for heat tape that runs on a thermostat, only turning on as needed. In cold enough temps, even that will not keep water running, especially overnight when the flock are not drinking enough to keep the water moving. So a couple times a winter we are inevitably forced to resort to refilling smaller water vessels a few times a day.  There is no perfect solution so whatever works best for your lifestyle and budget is the best. 

FEED

Chicken's basic feed ration doesn't change from season to season, but in the winter, I tend to offer more treats than when they're out on pasture. This gives them a more varied diet, and also a distraction from the fact that they're cooped up a bit more than they might be used to, relative to summer living. They can pick at a cabbage or a pumpkin for several days. A cob of corn is a great treat! I feed some cracked corn or mixed grain scratch (can be purchased from us) as a late-day treat in the colder temps, which will stay in their crop overnight and keep them warm from the inside out.  Just be sure to always have their main feed ration on hand, to ensure they're getting all the minerals and nutrients they need.

They'll also go through lots of oyster shell over the winter, so don't let that run out or you'll notice thin shelled eggs pretty quickly. 

EGGS

Speaking of eggs, you'll want to keep a tight gathering schedule as they can freeze, as mentioned above. When it's super cold, it's good to gather a couple times a day, just to ensure you don't miss any. You don't want to risk anyone developing an egg-eating habit. 

LIGHTING

We always run a light on a timer to keep egg production going. Left to their own devices, the hens' biological clock runs on day length, so once the days grow short, they take a break laying eggs. Some people like to give them that break, but as a farm that sells eggs, we encourage them to keep going. Have the light come on between 4-6am, depending on the natural day length. Do not try to extend the day length in the evening as the hens need the natural setting of the sun to prepare themselves for sleep (otherwise, when the light clicks off, they just stop where they are and hunker down, rather than gathering on the roost with their warm sisters). 

RECREATION AND PREVENTATIVE HEALTH CARE

We give our hens a large sandbox to play in. It gives them some variety of activity, but more importantly, it's where they dust bathe through the long winter, which keeps them clean and free of many pesky parasites. A hen house can draw in some unwelcome guests and the more we can do to prevent them, the better. 

They will use the sandbox a lot, if you provide one, but they will also poop in it, so either make it large enough that it won't matter, or be prepared to replace the sand over the course of the winter. As spring approaches and temps begin to warm up, I'll add diatomaceous earth and/or wood ashes to the sand, for a little extra prevention against mites. 

RATS, STINK, MANURE

The less glamorous parts of keeping chickens over the winter is just the result of them not going outside as much and their waste collecting.  I opt for the deep bedding method of just adding more carbon (in my case, straw) nearly everyday to counteract the ammonia from the manure. Lots of folks with smaller coops, prefer a regular clean out, which works good too. Shavings are lighter and easier to clean out, but if you have a good straw source, it can be cheaper and just as absorbent (and if it has a bit of grass in it, the hens will enjoy kicking it around and picking through it). 

Lots of people like to point to the inevitability of rats accompanying chickens. This isn't a necessity and bait boxes outside the coop in fall and spring will pretty much eliminate those pests. Rat traps work well but there are some pro tips I'm sure the internet can help you with (leave them baited but unset for a couple days first, until they eat from them and get confident around them. Then set them next time.)

Ammonia can become an issue, even with excellent air flow and decent bedding. There are products out there touted to absorb the smells, and I have used some clay products before that did help, but mostly it's a bedding issue and they just need more carbon to soak up that ammonia. My bedding goes from 2 inches to 2-3 feet deep over the course of the winter. I'm not shy with straw. Opening windows and doors when you can is a big help.  Even when it's really cold out, if the wind is minimal, during the day, it can be helpful to open the windows for a bit to exchange air and freshen things up. 

Now that I've listed all the downsides to hens, I'll share that the benefits far outweigh the negatives. The hens are always so thrilled to see what little snacks you might have brought and love the social time you might be able to offer. They will be so excited when they do get some outdoor time (although some breeds and birds appreciate snow more than others- don't be worried if yours won't go out in it) and they'll continue to give you breakfast through the seasons! And then, come spring, you'll be able to get them back out onto grass and watch Chicken TV again in your backyard. It's really not that bad and you'll figure out specifically what works for you and your flock as time goes on. They are much hardier and adaptable than you might think. And every breed is different, so you know your birds best. Trust your instinct and watch their behaviour.  They'll tell you what they need. :)

Why Wendell Berry Mattered To Me

 As a young idealistic woman coming up in the 90s, there was a constant drumbeat in the agriculture world, meant to dominate our minds to the point of erasing any foolish notions of independent thought; HOW WILL FARMERS FEED THE WORLD?  

It came from every corner of agri-business, which then and now, is the primary driver of broad communications among farmers. Conferences sponsored by ag-chemical companies, speakers paid by fertilizer companies, displays of big shiny equipment at livestock shows, all of it heralding the challenge of this ominous threat of farmers being unable to meet their potential and leave the world in a lurch. Farmers particularly impotent without the miracles of the inputs and intensive management of the agribusiness overlords, offering "solutions" at every turn. 

In grade 12, I remember trying to write an essay for a 4H scholarship, given the topic of coming up with solutions for exactly how we could "feed the world". I don't remember if I won the scholarship but I remember struggling with the idea even then, despite having been immersed in the North American (false) dream of bottomless soils and endless yields if only we bought the right products. 

It wasn't long after that, that I encountered the work of Wendell Berry.  First, his essays and then later, his poetry. But it was his essays on farming that helped form the farmer I became and gave my weary mind a life raft to hold onto in the deluge of conventional, exploitive agriculture that has been the siren song of my upbringing in 4H and Young Farmers organizations. 

He was the first white, southern American, male farmer I had read who so eloquently captured the thoughts in my heart. The first farmer I heard make a sound case for small farms and vibrant rural communities based on respect for the soil and the forests and the wild places and the livestock and the people. He was the first to herald husbandry over science, to question the concept of efficiency over care and intuition. He called for farmers to be conservationists and to let the farm be the judge of its capacity to produce. 

He shook loose some ideas in me that had been tucked away and dismissed as too radical, too Luddite, too foolish and wasteful. He let me shake off this looming threat of letting the world starve, while emphasizing the very thing that had niggled at me the whole time; how we feed the world is the wrong question, the wrong challenge. We should be asking how farmers can feed their communities, their neighbours. And then how we grow more farmers and encourage farm kids to farm. 

Once, after I was fully entrenched in his essays, I then learned that farmers could be poets, the most beautiful of poets. He was my agrarian Mary Oliver and I returned to his words again and again, comforted by a kindred understanding of the smallness of our place in the world, but our role as caretakers and stewards of our land, our communities, our families. The real magic of Wendell Berry was his ability to put beautiful words to harsh criticism in such a thoughtful way that it didn't feel harsh at all. It wasn't urgent and pushy and loud, but it was timely, timeless, important, relevant and thought-provoking in a way that we too often miss the mark on these days of quick, snappy TLDRs. 

To me, Wendell Berry's voice was a calm and quiet antidote to the noisy chanting, goading and belittling of Big Ag. Even now, I feel like I can feel him gently encouraging agrarian thoughtfulness with a "Steady on.  Steady on."

Party for Two

                    

When I was in Tennessee last fall, I was generously hosted by an older fella who proudly showed me around his state, his cattle and his business. He was gregarious and warm and lively. He also wore a brightly coloured, large lettered Trump shirt and did not shy away from talking politics with this nose-ringed, organically-minded, east coast Canadian. I love a political discussion so we got along quite well and one thing he said has really stuck with me.

    “There was a phrase I heard that said, ‘If you’re under 40 and you vote Republican, you have no heart. If you’re over 40 and vote Democrat, you have no brain.”

As someone just barely tipped over that maybe arbitrary precipice, I’ve been considering what it means for me. For those lifelong card-carrying partisan party die-hards, the idea that affiliation is so loose as to be influenced by something as passing as age, this concept may be borderline offensive, but I’d suggest that for a large portion of the population, some version of this may be true.  It’s true for me, in that I have grown more fiscally conservative as I age and I do look more critically at some of the social programs that I would have previously vocally defended. 

But given todays global political climate, I think this quirky phrase bears a reconsideration. How to decide when brain or heart should lead is a question we could ask ourselves about any decisions, but especially pertinent now as things feel more unstable and unknown than ever. 

But maybe choosing between the two isn’t the item of importance here. Maybe the real story is acknowledging that both are important and that having a multitude of voices is what makes up a democracy.  Maybe the real moral of the quirky phrase is that surely we can recognize within ourselves that there is value in all perspectives and villainizing one side or the other will only come back to bite us, as individuals and as part of a larger community. 

I know we’re being pushed into corners that want us to choose, corners that say “this is the heart-leading corner. Get in here with the rest of the people who care and have compassion and empathy.” Or, alternatively, “come to the corner of brain-leading. We make the best decisions and in the end, all of this clever strategy will pay and we’ll all be better off.”

And between the corners is a space where lots of people would like to go, but it’s impossible to rest there with all the screaming and yelling from the corners on both sides. “You can’t have it both ways!!! Take a side! Take a stand!”

And as long as we’re all yelling at each other, neither side ends up “winning” and instead global powers slowly grab more power from the powerless and billionaires find ways to grab more money. 

Instead of dividing yourself into a group that is wholly voting against something rather than for anything, try finding a middle ground with your neighbour on the “other side”. Listen with a curious heart and a vulnerable brain and remember that above all else, we’re all just humans who want love, security and good health. And if it feels like the chasm is too wide and deep between how we get there, consider that the other side feels exactly the same. They feel similarly threatened, unsafe, distrusting and anxious. Surely no political opinion is worth breaking relationships over when in the end, it comes down living in the same community, the same family, the same workplace and being there through both real hard times and true joy, together. Don't burn a bridge over a man in a suit when in the end, it will come down to a friend on a porch.  

Our Obsession with a "Good Deal"

Who doesn't love a deal? I spend probably too much time on Facebook marketplace, scouring the Island for good second hand items. I occasionally purchase books or games or craft supplies from Amazon when I can't find them locally. I get all the same ads that everyone else does for cheap clothing and consumer goods from China. And if I work hard enough I can convince myself that I deserve to save a bit of cash as a hard-working, well-meaning person who is noticing a tighter pocketbook and a higher grocery bill. 

Let me interrupt this little celebration of good deals with a seemingly unrelated story. 

The Uyghur people are a minority population in China, mostly of Muslim faith. They have their own language and culture and while they have existed in the north western region of China, Xinjiang, they identify more closely with more central Asian nations.  

China doesn't like the Uyghurs. There have been several human rights groups identify drastic crimes against humanity, including sterilizing Uyghur women, separating children from their families, attempting to break cultural traditions and putting more than 1 MILLION Uyghur people in "re-education camps".

Satellite images show rapid construction of camps in Xinjiang, the home region of Uyghur people. Photo from LA Times.https://www.latimes.com/business/story/2023-06-15/temu-sells-products-linked-to-forced-labor-in-china

The camps are not just housing and detention. Those who have escaped have reported physical, mental and sexual torture. But there are also factories in the camps. The factories produce clothing and consumer goods made for fast fashion retailers like Temu. 

Xinjiang is a major cotton-growing region, but primarily harvested by forced labour. The US even banned cotton from Xinjiang due to human rights abuses related to the labour conditions of harvest in the region but the Chinese companies have figured out various ways to ship smaller amounts (but many of them) to avoid triggering the $800 threshold that requires border protection and investigation. 

Most human rights organizations say that it is not a difficult assumption to make that between the cotton harvest and the slave labour in the factories, China is using the Uyghur people to manufacture the cheaply made goods coming from retailers like Temu. 

So back to a good deal. If we are a global people and what affects us, affects everyone, how good does our cheap deal look now? If we're dismayed at the state of our population, our mental health crisis, our opioid epidemic, our housing crisis and our 'cost of living', does 'saving money' by supporting companies like Temu, really help us as humans?  Does getting that cheap knock off sweater from Shein that will last one season, really elevate our energy in the world, as a human sharing the planet with other humans? 

Not to mention all of the creators on Etsy whose beautiful hand crafted goods are being stolen and remade in China by these "re-education camps" using fabrics that are not safe to wear anyway (so just imagine the conditions in which they're made).

I know, I know, everything is expensive now and we donate to charities and we pray for world peace, what difference can our few purchases really make? Aren't there organizations and government agencies responsible for managing these problems? 

Yes. But also we are responsible for managing how we spend our precious dollars and understanding where our money goes and how the things we buy are produced, grown, flown and shipped. We need to stop chasing the race to the bottom on all fronts.  Cheaper food!! Cheaper clothes!! Cheaper building supplies!! Cheaper furniture!! Cheaper cars!!  We have immense privilege as North Americans that most of us are justifying squandering away in favour of filling our lives with cheap shit at the cost of other people's lives.  

Stop supporting Temu. Our dollars will talk louder than any slow government can.

Brazilla vs Kong

If Brazilian ag was a creature, I picture it as Godzilla, emerging from the ocean, preparing to eclipse a nearby North American city, as seen in the movies. Maybe it's a friendly Godzilla, well-intentioned and not dangerous at all. But there’s no denying its scale and strength. And at this point we don’t even know how much is still hidden under the water. Each year, it’s still growing in production and exports, from 20-40%, depending the commodity.

Before I went to Brazil, I hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about it. I was worried about the Amazon and knew that soybeans and beef were a big deal there and that was about it. None of that was misplaced but there’s a lot more to it, obviously. For scale, Brazil is roughly the same size as the contiguous US, or Australia with equally varied landscapes and growing conditions, although proximity to the equator means they can achieve two harvested crops per year, plus some grazing in between (following under-seeded corn to grass).  It wasn’t unusual to see a combine harvesting soybeans, followed closely by a corn planter. It was also common to see a crop in all its various stages within an hours drive. Soybeans being planted, harvested and at every growth stage in between. The lack of highly varied seasons makes for accelerated rotations that can do a whole lot more than us northern hemisphere folks limited by winter.

While Brazil has historically been through a roller coaster of export-driven markets from brazilwood to coffee to sugarcane to rubber, it’s been a roller coaster that has been steadily climbing up a hill with no great downfall anywhere in sight. Large scale agriculture there really only took off in the 1970s so it’s a relatively young country in the big ag world and it has taken some valuable lessons from those “developed” countries who are now trying to recover from decades of soil exploitation. The ground is rarely bare in Brazil, partly due to those two crops per year, but also because there is an acceptance that cover makes sense. They have put all their eggs in one particular grass basket which seems like a bit of a vulnerability but the Brachiaria variety of grass resists pests and grows well under Brazil’s conditions. It is sensitive to herbicides so requires lower doses in a no-till system and does well as fodder for cattle.  There is quite a robust network of researchers and extension agents for farmers at all scales and the trust and respect between the two seems very strong. 

The rules around deforestation are clear but enforcement may be spotty and it depends on who you talk to when it comes to the perception of fairness. The policy makers are clear on the rule being 20% of any private land holding must not be cut down, which is to say that 80% can be cleared.  Within the bounds of the Amazon, those numbers are reversed and it is 80% of any land holding must be maintained and not cut down. The governor claimed that penalties for breaking these rules were very severe, from large fines up to jail time.  But this also means that 20% of deforestation in the Amazon region is perfectly legal.  More than one farmer, when pressed about international pressures in regards to deforestation in Brazil said, “Bah, all the rest of you already cut your forests centuries ago, it’s our turn.”  One cannot help but be simultaneously dismayed and empathetic with this perspective. 

As a country that can grow a full sized hardwood tree for timber in 7 years, compared to our 45 years, can harvest two cash crops in one year and is still continuing to increase exports and yields year over year, Brazil could be the biggest ag-Godzilla the world has ever seen. But with great power comes great responsibility and to turn a blind eye to the crisis of the Amazon in favour of focusing on productivity, no matter how successful, is to ignorantly accept the “if I’m going down, you’re going down with me” adage, to detriment of us all. 

In a world convinced that it will be unable to feed itself soon (totally false but propped up by the “science” and the deep pockets of chemical and fertilizer companies), Brazil is doing its damnedest to fill the gaps and as it stands today, will continue to grow in leaps and bounds for years to come. By that measure, Brazil will soon reign supreme but by failing to recognize its very strong dependance on tenuous inputs and economies of scale that are exactly as efficient as they are vulnerable it will be very interesting to see what it looks like in a couple decades from now. Will Brazilla (see what I did there?) become the force that dwarfs King Kong (the other major producing and exporting countries)  or will they fall on their sword of currently-justified hubris? 

(Not Godzilla, just an ANACONDA that was in the same river I snorkelled in!! Glad I didn't see it while I was in there with it!!!)

'Nuffin' to see here

 I thought I had worked through all my insecurities when I primed myself up to apply for a Nuffield Scholarship. It took me several months of thought and internal debate. Months of trying on the idea of travel and time away from the farm. It was the inspiration for my solo bike trip to the Maggies, proving to myself that I could do scary things. I filled several pages of a couple journals, working out all kinks in my confidence, convincing myself that I was worthy, clever enough, experienced and not just doing it to prove  to everyone, but especially me, that I am a legitimate farmer. 

That was 2022, 2023. Yet here I am in the early days of 2024, making real travel plans to places where I'll be sitting down with folks who might ask me questions that I probably should know the answers to and I'd rather crawl under a nice wide tree canopy and stay there. 

As a young woman, in the final days of waiting for my first baby to arrive, for some reason I became fixated on having enough receiving blankets, those soft flannel, rectangular burp catchers and baby wrappers.  My recurring nightmare in those last days was coming home from the hospital to not having any receiving blankets. Laughable even then, in the tornado of hormones and insecurities. 

And now, in the final days of making plans, spending money, booking flights, finalizing connections here I am, worried about not knowing the answers to questions like :

PEI's average annual rainfall, our farm's soil type, the variety of clover in my pasture mix, seeding rates for everything, the number on the side of our grain drill, how many horsepower our tractors are, the current price for beef on the commodity market, average yield for grain corn in the Maritimes, going price per bushel for every crop, organic acres on PEI, and on and on. 

The kind of easy, friendly chatter that creates a comfortable bond, a reciprocal sort of agreement between farmers that we're all in this together. But I don't know those things, not off hand. I'm not great at farmer small talk at all.  I could easily find the answer to all those things in a matter of minutes, mostly by mining the mind of my very legitimate farmer husband. He sits comfortably in a room of farmers, able to chit chat with any of them. 

And yet, I know both of us would claim I'm the people person. But farmers aren't regular people are they? They carry a library of facts that they've built over generations of working with the elements and they carry a certain reverence for those in the same boat, and a very quiet surprise that there are those who don't carry the same library. 

I know by the time this is over, those questions will feel as silly as a deficiency of receiving blankets but right now I'm entirely caught up in the minutiae of human relations at a farm level. I thought maybe putting this out in the world, it would help get it out of my mind and set me free, but maybe writing down just a few of those questions that so many farmers just unconsciously learned as barefooted kids only highlighted my foolishness. What am I doing on this adventure? How did I think having the Nuffield name to open doors would also lend me credibility when it comes to relating as farmer to farmer over a kitchen table? They'll see through me so fast, know that I love cattle, but don't understand the cost of production like I should, don't appreciate the depth of the current reliance on synthetic fertilizer in our globalized food system, don't know the first thing about equipment maintenance, am as debt-averse as it comes, am often confused by the lingo at annual accountants meetings, etc. 

How did I fool Nuffield Canada so thoroughly that I'm at this point in the game?  

And don't worry, I know I've got lots going for me, and that these things won't matter that much. It's more of a sign of this becoming real, this hyper fixation on foolish, irrelevant things.

Mostly I'm posting this so that future scholars who get themselves to this point, can see that they're not the only ones.  And for me, to read later on and remind myself how far I've come. I'll probably never remember the model number of every (any?) tractor we own, but I can talk to anyone and my Mom always said I've got the kind of smiling face that makes people feel comfortable, so I'll just rely on that I guess? *laughing/crying/mostly laughing I think*

Quite a post for my first Nuffield one eh?? Inspired to follow along or WHAT!? :)

When The Opposite of Popular is Depopular.

 Renting hens is far from central to our business, but it is the most profitable thing we do. And even at that, it's not a make or break part of the farm.  But it does fulfill a value I have of promoting food awareness and food security. It brings agriculture to those who would otherwise not know where to start, not have the opportunity. It builds confidence in people to try things like gardening, canning, try other livestock, start to notice the difference in the quality of food. It gets people thinking about the food their food is eating, which is something most people don't do. 

Yes, renting hens is a cute story and a cool side hustle, but last year we opted not to do it because of the new threat of avian flu. 

I had decided that this year, I would give it a go, on a smaller scale. Partly because the demand was SO high and because there haven't been any cases of the flu here in domestic birds. There were lots of wild bird cases in the sea around the Island last year, but none managed to infect the thousands of poultry that live here. So I felt like maybe it was ok to give it a try again. 

Until we had a little visit from someone representing the perspective of the egg producers board. It was a very cordial visit and ended on good terms but it was clear that how we're farming is a threat to the livelihood of others, farming differently.  We're within a couple kilometres of a couple egg farms who would be affected if my farm was affected. Although, similarly for me, should they get it. 

And when I say affected, they could be forced to depopulate (euthanize) their flocks. Same as me, should they get it. Or similarly, if one of my rental hens should get it, it could be decided that my flock is a threat, even if the rental hen is in Souris and then we're all 'depopulating' (what an odd euphemism). 

While renting hens may not be a cornerstone of our farm profitability, making feed is, and that business could be halted if avian flu is found here due to vehicles being unable to move on and off the property. Kind of hard to sell feed if it can't leave the grounds. Let's not even begin to talk about all the folks who come here to get their feed for their backyard hens. 

So here I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. The pressure and risks of avian flu which may or may not happen and the potential to introduce the love to hens to a bunch of new folks this summer and foster a love of real food connection. 

I lean more and more into libertarianism as I get older and if I lived in the states, I'd likely be laughing in the face of something like the egg board, renting more chickens than ever just out of spite. But I want to be a good neighbour. I want to ensure we keep our feed business going. I don't want to feel like a threat to an entire commodity. I also want chickens to live lives outdoors. I want folks to experience cracking a still warm egg for breakfast. I want kids to train a chicken to follow them around. I want folks to ask what's in their chicken feed and care about the answer. 

I can't help but wonder if our egg and chicken industry in North America is so incredibly vulnerable to a disease because we've built it around breeding of chickens that are designed for one purpose and have no ability to cope with exterior threats? So much so that the barns are airtight, light-tight and so biosecure that workers have to change clothes to go in. What a surprise that they might be vulnerable to different pathogens. 

I suspect that Avian Flu will become like Covid is for us now. Always in the background, a real threat to some and less concerning to others. Does it mean I will never rent hens again? I'm sure some would hope that would be the case. 

So what do I do?  Forego the few thousand dollars and share my values in other, less effective ways? Or snub my nose at the 'guidelines' and my neighbours and send my little hens across this sandbar, spreading the chicken love, one feather at a time?