My husband and I had one of those moments a few nights ago, where a simple discussion over chickens turned into tears. We were having a heart to heart discussion about our life. We were marveling at where we had come from and how far we have went. From two young teenagers who were madly in love, to broke newlyweds, to struggling parents and finally to two successful, responsible people in their mid-thirties. With our life wisdom has come financial wealth. For the first time in our lives, we live on property and we can afford a few extras, a chicken coop being one.
That may seem like a simple, silly and strange desire but I grew up on farmland. I raised chicken, ducks and geese and I was in 4-H. Raising poultry and water fowl was a part of my childhood. In fact, I gave away the remainder of my flock shortly after I became engaged to my husband. I have been dreaming of sharing that experience with our daughters since they were born. Up until now, that simple goal was impossible.
When my parents were growing up, everyone had a flock of chickens. It was cost-effective. They were butchered for food, stocked up in freezers and everyone had an egg business. By the time, I was in the fourth grade, farms were rapidly going out of business in my area and property went up in price. The only people who owned livestock, had money. 4-H was also slowly becoming a business, where your success depended on how much your parents were willing to pay. Backyard chicken coops made from pallets and old boards became elaborate chicken palaces, intended to match your house. I witnessed the tail end of the old form of farming.
My dad built me my first chicken coop by emptying out a closet in our garage, he converted it into a coop with a roost and put a small chicken door leading to the outside. He strung up chicken wire around an old flower bed and I had a perfect set up. Our feeders and chicken supplies were all bought second hand from our 4-H club. Our chickens, all specialty bantam breeds were bought at a small auction held in a school gymnasium. This was an affordable way for a girl who loved animals to be involved in 4-H.
A few years later, my dad built me a gorgeous coop in my families old garden with nesting boxes that opened from the outside and room for at least twenty chickens. He later added a smaller coop for our ducks and geese. I loved it and appreciated the amount of care and money that went into it. The coop was later converted to a garden shed.
I have such wonderful memories of raising my birds that after sixteen years of marriage, without realizing it, I have somehow talked about chickens…a lot. Just a few years ago we were invited to a dinner party. After we had eaten, we were playing a game where everyone had to write down a statement anonymously. Then the group had to guess which statement belonged to which person. There was a crack about chickens and everyone assumed that statement belonged to our hostess. She had a beautiful red chicken palace, the type that wealthy people own and had proudly showed it to us earlier that evening. I thought for sure she had been the one who had written it.
As it turned out, it was from my husband. He had written it about me. I looked at him from across the table, he winked at me as if to say, “See…I’ve been listening to you!”
Raising chickens has always been something completely out of reach for us. Property is expensive and whether you’re buying or building a coop, it’s also expensive. Home owners associations can also make it difficult. I also didn’t want to destroy a small yard, intended for my children to play in with a noisy coop of clucking hens that may or may not get me in trouble with the city.
Now that we have achieved our dreams of owning property and a home we never thought was possible, we’ve made plans for our coop. We originally planned on buying one pre-made but my dad, excited over the idea, offered to help us. He is building a chicken coop for his granddaughters in the same loving spirit in which he built one for me.
So, as my husband and I sat there, discussing the chicken coop and ordering feeders and heating lamps, talking about how our dreams are finally being achieved. My husband looks at me with tears in his eyes.
“I can’t believe it. Do you know what it means to me to be able to buy chickens for my family? Chickens!” He repeats again.
As funny as that statement may sound, I understood his meaning and I felt the tears forming in my eyes as well. It’s a simple thing…It doesn’t make our life wonderful…It doesn’t define us…It doesn’t matter whether we can buy chickens or not…It doesn’t matter what kind of house we live or whether or not we can afford property…but it is a blessing.
When you have grown up with nothing, which is how my husband was raised, you appreciate these small, seemingly inconsequential luxuries. Despite our success, I will always be grateful for everything we have. My parents bought me chickens when money was still tight and in the same spirit, my husband is doing the same for us.
It’s funny and sweet and adorable how a simple discussion over chickens could bring us to tears. This is one of those crazy moments in my life that I will always remember.
