Tanya's Blog: The Case (or Coops) For Chickens

CINCINNATI - The Case (or Coops) For Chickens

So, I like to think of myself as a wanna-be Martha Stewart. One colleague calls me “Betty” (as in Crocker). In the imaginary world I want to live in, I would wake up, roast my coffee beans, grind them to perfection and brew a delicious pot of Ethiopian Yrgacheffe. While it brewed, I would gather blossoms from my abundant garden to place in beautiful arrangements around my house and then go find the eggs my chickens left behind that morning for me to poach with a piece of fresh baked bread. It would be heaven.

Except it’s not even close to reality.

Okay, so I don’t mind Folgers. My garden isn’t abundant, although it’s not too shabby and I can manage a bouquet on occasion. But the biggest disappointment in my daydream is my utter lack of chickens.

Yes, you heard correctly. I want chickens. To raise. In my yard.

I’ve wanted them for years. Ask me why and I’ll tell you, ‘because I like the idea of having fresh eggs’. Yes, it may be ridiculous. But that doesn’t change things for me.

The idea of going outside each morning, gathering eggs and then actually eating them isn’t so silly. Farm to table right? All the rage? Well, I’ve been dreaming of it for what seems like forever. I have the vegetable garden. I “can” my own beans and pickle cucumbers, so why not have chilckens? I think it’s a great idea.

Mind you, I’m not alone. My neighbor Ted wants them too. We plot and strategize (he also wants a goat, and I’m not as fond of that idea). His wife and my husband poo-poo the idea together and plot against us. Ted and I don’t see what’s so wrong with having some birds “free-ranging” in our yards. Our nay-saying spouses remind us we have dogs who would love not just the eggs, but the producer as well for lunch.

And, I live in the city. Which isn’t a big deal, as long as you don’t have a rooster, as I understand it. But all the convulsions from my husband and Ted’s beautiful bride and it makes me pause. Why is it, exactly, that I feel this intense desire to have my own fowl futzing around my yard? Would I REALLY eat that many eggs? And, really, I don’t even know the first thing about raising chickens except that they eat and produce (and not just eggs).

Ted has a great excuse. He had them as a kid growing up on a decent amount of land by today’s standards. Me, not so much. I grew up in Finneytown with a yard swallowed whole by an in-ground pool. I lived in a cul-de-sac, not on 5 acres. And, I have a nice sized yard now, but no acre to be sure. Virtually every home around us has dogs, which will certainly eat my precious chickens, right?

But it still doesn’t stop me from dreaming of brown eggs from a beautiful bird. I mean, Martha has chickens (and people to “tend” to them, I’m certain).

Maybe I can wear my husband down. He must realize this would mean omelets for breakfast every day, a more nutritious breakfast for the kiddies (no more Chocolate Cheerios, kids) and a dream fulfilled for his wife? Right?

Until the next dream….of, say, having my own beehive! Yeah! Martha does that, too! Home grown honey, what an idea! I gotta do that!