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In 2007, we were living in a 100 year old farmhouse.  It was situated on a 130 acre farm north west of Lockhart, Texas. There were beautiful rolling hills, clusters of mesquite and Spanish oaks, hay fields and a handful of cattle to keep things interesting.  We were renting the house from some close friends who had owned the farm for a few years.  Our kids absolutely loved roaming the fields and fishing in the bass ponds.  They are amazing on bikes now because they learned how to ride on bumpy dirt roads.

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Jude watering the front yard. Barn in background was originally built in 1903.

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Working our first garden. Jude quite possibly eating dirt.

A whole lot of that life felt like we were living back in time. The house was fully remodeled, but creaked and shifted all the time.  We loved sitting on the porch in the evenings and watching the sun go down.  We often would watch huge thunderheads form over the fields and bring much needed rain to the hay fields.  As we sat on the front porch and the wind breathed on our face, our minds would wander back to the folks who settled the frontier over a century ago.  They saw the same hills, animals, and sunsets.  There wasn’t a whole lot that separated us from them. Of course, then we would flip on a light or turn on the ceiling fan, launching us back into the 21st century.  Erica loved living out there and started to channel her inner organic, sustainable living self.  “We need to get some chickens and eat eggs from free range chickens.  The poor chickens we get eggs from are shot up with all kinds of hormones.”  I’m the typical American man. I said, “What will they taste like? If the chickens get exercise every day will they taste better? I’ve heard if chickens are able to eat from the yard, then the eggs taste nasty.”

A couple weeks later, I was building a chicken coop.  That is usually how discussions go in our house.  Erica has an idea.  I don’t understand it and don’t really see the need in changing or fighting the standard way of thinking.  She has read a blog or seen a documentary on Netflix.  That means we need to change our life.  After a few weeks of “discussions” I go along with it.

Our plan was to get six or eight chickens after I built the coop.  I come from a long line of carpenters.  If I am going to build a coop, it is not going to be some little crappy shed. We are going to have the best looking and operational coop this side of the Mississippi! I grabbed draft paper, pencils, rulers and started the blueprints for our chicken coop. This was going to be epic.  We picked out a bright red for the walls and bright white for the trim.  There would be an enclosed yard with a two-story coop with doors to lock the chickens in. We would place small hinged doors on the outside of each chicken bay so that we could reach in and grab the eggs each morning.  It took me around a week to complete the chicken mansion. I was proud.

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Structure is up! Still need finishing touches and paint.

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Tired. Laying down on the job. Showing the roominess!

We took the forty-five minute trek to Seguin and selected the finest chicks we could find.  They were cute and vulnerable. We really didn’t know what we were doing. We weren’t sure how long it would be before we were going to start harvesting our delicious organic, free range, hormone free, eggs (that were not going to taste gross).  We would let the chickens out in the morning and then open the door for them to enter at night. Sometimes, they would simply go in without drama. Other nights they were down right rebellious.  I would try to round them up. Rounding up chickens…yeah not a good idea.

chicks   redcoop

Check out these videos of us trying to get the chickens back in the coop! This was early on (rookies)
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After a couple of months, we started to gather eggs. Honestly, they tasted really good.  The shells were so strong. You could literally drop them on the ground and they wouldn’t break.  They would last a really long time before going bad. In fact, we never really found any bad eggs.  We would give some away when they would produce more than we could eat.  Overall, it was not a big hassle.  We would need to feed them daily, check their water, collect eggs.  We would clean out the coop every month or so.

The biggest challenge was all of the other creatures on the farm that wanted eggs. Who knew that opossums, raccoons, hawks, coyotes, rats, and snakes liked fresh, organic, free range, hormone free eggs as well.  They actually liked eating fresh chicken also.  We were constantly fending off the predators. These animals would dig holes under the coop. They would tear the wire off the frame.  They could pry the door open.  Sometimes, we would hear the noise, run out, and deal with the commotion.  I would go out at night with a shotgun and scare off the ‘possums.  I might have thinned out the population a little bit.  Other times, we would not be at home or the attack was stealthy.  We would come out the next day to find no eggs, a dead chicken, or even a missing chicken.  Those were sad days.  We would have a little memorial service with our 1yr and 3yr old boys.  They were learning the way of life on the farm.  The circle of life.

One night we were putting the dishes up after dinner when we heard a large commotion out in the coop. The chickens were riled up. Really upset. They were calling for Erica to come help them out…please!  Erica grabbed a flashlight and headed out to the coop.  It took a couple minutes to get out there in the dark.  When she arrived on the scene, she flashed the light around the coop to determine what the problem was.  There was nothing outside of the coop, so she walked into the fenced area. She needed a better angle to see inside the coop where the chickens were bawking up a storm.  Once she flashed the light inside, she saw a large black snake in the coop with a egg in its mouth!

“Oh, h@## no!!” thought Erica as she opened the small door to the coop.  She reached in the coop with her flashlight and started beating the snake on the head.  I’m not sure what the snake thought at that moment, but one thing was for sure.  He had met his match and realized that releasing the egg and leaving the coop was a much better than getting beat in the head by this crazy monster.  The snake spit the egg out of his mouth and slithered out of the coop.  Erica harvested the egg, caressed the chickens and reassured them that they were her special babies.  Just call out and we will come to the rescue.

The next day we ate the egg.

Wow! A lot has changed in the last 5 years. We now live in a suburban neighborhood and buy our eggs from the local grocery store.  There are a lot of things about the farm that we miss.  There are a lot of things about our new home that are incredible.  It’s interesting how life changes drastically and we find the resiliency to thrive through the Grace of God, friends, and a little determination (beating a snake with a flashlight).