The sun rises. The chickens stir. You walk out back, still damp with dew, and lift the coop door. The nests are warm. Brown eggs, white eggs, sometimes blue. You take them in your hand. They are firm. They are real.
Nothing tastes like eggs from backyard chickens. Not the store-bought kind. Not the pale ones in cardboard cartons. These are different. The yolks are deep gold. The whites stand tall. You crack one into the pan. It sizzles.
This is how food should be. Simple. Honest. Alive.
Eggs from Backyard Chickens: Why You Should Raise Them
The world is loud. Machines. Screens. Plastic-wrapped meals. But there is a quieter way. A older way. Chickens cluck in the yard. They scratch dirt. They give eggs. Eggs from backyard chickens. Real eggs. Good eggs.
Here is why you should raise them.
1. The Eggs
Store eggs are pale. Thin shells. Weak yolks that bleed into the pan. Eggs from backyard chickens do not bleed. They stand tall. The yolks are gold. Deep gold. Like the sun at noon.
You know why. The hens eat grass. Bugs. Scraps from your table. No chemicals. No cages. No trucks. The eggs taste like the earth. Like rain. Like things alive.
A man once said, “You are what you eat.” The hens eat well. You eat well. Your children eat well. Protein that builds muscle. Fats that feed the brain. All from a shell you held warm in your hand that morning.
Store eggs rot fast. Backyard eggs last weeks. The bloom—a natural coat—keeps them fresh. No wax. No bleach. Nature’s way.
You crack one. You fry it. You remember: This is food.
2. They Work for You
Chickens do not laze. They hunt. Beetles in the grass. Slugs under leaves. Worms in the soil. They peck. They scratch. They clean your garden.
You plant carrots. Tomatoes. Lettuce. Bugs come. You could spray poison. But poison lingers. It kills bees. It taints dirt. Or you could open the coop. Let the chickens loose.
Watch them. They dart. They stab at aphids. They swallow grubs whole. Your garden grows clean. No toxins. No cost. Just birds doing what birds have done for ten thousand years.
Two jobs. One bird. Eggs and pest control. Simple.
3. Black Gold
Chicken shit stinks. But it is gold. Black gold.
Spread it on soil. Wait. Watch. Plants grow thick. Fast. Strong. Tomatoes red as fire. Corn stalks tall as a man. All because of what the hens leave behind.
Store fertilizer costs money. Chicken manure costs nothing. Just straw. Just time. Let it rot. Let it mellow. Mix it with dirt. The earth becomes rich. Alive.
A woman in Maine once said: “My roses bloom twice. My zucchini could feed a town.” She nods at her coop. “The chickens did that.”
4. It Costs Less
Store eggs are cheap. But cheap is a lie. You pay with your health. You pay with tasteless meals. You pay with pale yolks that leave you hungry.
Backyard eggs cost grain. Scraps. A coop built from scrap wood. A water tin. A feeder. Sweat. Sweat is free.
A bag of feed lasts weeks. Six hens give five eggs a day. Thirty eggs a week. Do the math. The coins add up. You save. You eat better.
A man in Texas said: “I haven’t bought eggs in three years. My hens out-earn my car.”
5. They Teach
A child squats by the nest. Her hand slips under the hen. Warmth. Feathers. An egg. She smiles. She learns.
Food does not come from stores. It comes from life. From care. From dawn checks for water. From scattering grain. From mucking coops in autumn rain.
Children see cycles. Birth. Death. Seeds. Harvest. They learn respect. For animals. For land. For the slow turn of seasons.
A boy in Oregon collects eggs every dawn. His mother says: “He eats carrots now. Because he grew them. Because the chickens fed the soil.”
6. It is Simple
You do not need much. A patch of grass. A coop. A fence to stop foxes. Six hens. No rooster. Roosters yell. Hens work.
Feed them. Water them. Give them grit for their guts. Throw them lettuce gone limp. Apple cores. Stale bread. They do the rest.
Check for rats. Bury poop until it rots. Collect eggs. That is all.
A woman in Spain keeps hens on her balcony. “City chickens,” she laughs. “They give eggs. They eat my scraps. Even here.”
The Truth
Raising chickens is not magic. It is work. But it is good work. Work that feeds you. Work that cleans your land. Work that teaches your son.
The world spins fast. Chickens slow it. They remind you: Life is soil. Sun. Rain. Food that does not come from a box.
You stand in your yard. The hens cluck. The eggs wait. You breathe. You think: This is enough.
And it is.
What To Consider Before Getting Chickens?
You want eggs from backyard chickens. Good. But first, you must think. Chickens are not tools. They are alive. They eat. They shit. They die. Plan or fail.
1. Years, Not Days
Chickens live long. Five years. Ten if lucky. Wild ones die sooner—foxes, hawks, cold. Yours will not be wild. You lock them in at night. You feed them grain. They rely on you.
Ask: Can I do this for a decade? Mornings with frozen water tins. Summer days hauling feed. Nights listening for raccoons. If you tire in a year, what then? You cannot quit. They cannot live on regret.
A man in Vermont once said: “Hens outlasted my marriage.” He laughed. But his eyes were graves.
2. Space Matters
Chickens need room. Three square feet per bird. Five is better. Crowd them, and they fight. Blood on feathers. Pecked combs. Bullying in the dust.
Build a coop. Tall enough to stand in. Nest boxes for laying. A run outside—fenced, roofed. Let them scratch dirt. Let them flap wings. Let them be chickens.
A woman in Tokyo keeps six hens on a rooftop. “They have less than the books say,” she admits. “But they are happy. We dance when it rains.”
3. Air, Light, Heat
A coop is not a shed. It must breathe. Damp air kills. Mold grows. Lungs fill with rot.
Cut vents high up. Let wind pull out stink. In winter, block drafts but keep airflow. Hens shiver. Frostbite turns combs black. Hang a heat lamp. Red glow. Not too close.
Light tells hens to lay. Eight hours of sun? Good. Fourteen? Better. Short days in winter—eggs stop. Hang a bulb on a timer. Sixteen hours of light. Eggs return.
A boy in Alberta forgot the lamp. His hens slept through January. “No eggs,” he said. “Just snoring.”
4. Clean or Die
Chickens foul their beds fast. Straw turns to sludge. Poop piles like wet cement.
Clean weekly. Shovel shit. Scrub perches with vinegar. Burn old straw. Mice come for crumbs. Rats come for eggs. Keep it tidy. Keep it sharp.
A dirty coop smells. Flies swarm. Neighbors complain. A man in Florida ignored the mess. His hens got coccidia. Blood in their shit. Half died. The rest limped.
“Clean,” the vet said. “Or bury them.”
5. Blood and Feathers
Chickens die. They break. They bleed.
A hen leaps, lands wrong—leg snaps. Another pecks vents raw. Cannibalism in the flock. You see red flesh. You smell infection.
Prepare:
-
Find a vet. Not all fix chickens. Call now. Before the crisis.
-
Keep antibiotics. Know doses.
-
Have a knife. Sometimes, mercy is sharp.
A girl in Iowa found her hen limp. She called seven clinics. No answer. The hen died at midnight. She writes: “Have a plan. Have two.”
6. The Work
It is daily. It is dull.
Fill water. Scatter feed. Check for mites under wings. Collect eggs. Sweep dust. Lock the coop at dusk. Unlock at dawn. Repeat.
Holidays? You need a sitter. Snowstorms? You dig paths to the coop. Heatwaves? You hose the roof.
A couple in Arizona left for a weekend. The automatic feeder jammed. They returned to silence. Five hens dead. One ate the rest.
“Chickens don’t care about your plans,” the man said.
The Choice
You want eggs from backyard chickens. You want gold yolks. You want the pride of self-made food.
But first, ask:
-
Can I give years?
-
Can I build space?
-
Can I clean, heal, and wake at dawn?
If yes, dig post holes. Buy wire. Bend nails into a coop.
If no, buy eggs. Eat them. Wonder what you missed.
Choosing The Right Chicken Breed
You do not pick chickens like apples. You pick them like bullets. Each breed has a purpose. Each has a cost. Choose wrong, and the eggs taste bitter. Choose right, and the mornings glow.
Here is how to decide.
1. Climate: Heat or Cold?
Chickens are not all the same. Some thrive in desert sun. Some laugh at snow. Your land decides.
A man in Texas bought Silkies. They died in August heat. Feathers too thick. A woman in Maine chose Leghorns. They froze in January. Combs turned black.
Know your weather. Then choose.
Hot-Tolerant Breeds
Breed | Traits |
---|---|
Brahmas | Heavy feathers, calm, slow |
Orpington | Fluffy, friendly, dual-purpose |
Sumatra | Lean, wild, needs space |
Campine | Active, forages well, noisy |
Plymouth Rock | Hardy, reliable, brown eggs |
Rhode Island Red | Tough, prolific, rust-colored |
Cold-Hardy Breeds
Breed | Traits |
---|---|
Silkie Bantam | Fluffy, gentle, broody |
Delaware | White feathers, fast-growing |
Salmon Favorelle | Bearded, quiet, pastel eggs |
Wyandotte | Thick plumage, bold, speckled |
Australorp | Shiny black, lays daily |
Ameraucana | Slate legs, blue eggs |
Arizona sun? Pick Brahmas. Minnesota frost? Wyandottes.
2. Eggs: Numbers and Sizes
Eggs from backyard chickens should fill your hand. Some hens lay small. Some lay giants. Some lay daily. Some save it for Sundays.
A family of six needs more eggs. A couple needs fewer. Count mouths. Count weeks.
Egg Sizes
Size | Weight (grams) |
---|---|
Extra Small | <40 |
Small | 42-45 |
Medium | 48-50 |
Large | 53-56 |
Extra Large | 62-65 |
Extra Extra Large | 70-75 |
Egg Machines
Breed | Eggs/Year | Starts Laying | Egg Color |
---|---|---|---|
Red Star | 300-360 | 22 weeks | Brown |
Australorp | 250-300 | 16-20 weeks | Light Brown |
Leghorn | 300-320 | 18-20 weeks | White |
Rhode Island Red | 200-300 | 18-20 weeks | Brown |
Orpington | 200-280 | 22-26 weeks | Pinkish |
Chantecler | 150-220 | 20-24 weeks | Brown |
Ameraucana | 180-220 | 20-24 weeks | Blue |
The Red Star works like a machine. The Brahma naps. Choose speed or patience.
3. Temperament: Gentle or Wild?
Chickens have moods. Some peck children. Some sit in laps.
A boy in Georgia fed Faverolles. They ate from his palm. A man in Bangkok kept Thai Game Fowl. They drew blood.
Family-Friendly Breeds
Breed | Traits |
---|---|
Australorp | Calm, curious, follows feet |
Cochin | Fluffy, slow, broody |
Faverolle | Bearded, silly, quiet |
Sussex | Bold, friendly, follows sun |
Aggressive Breeds
Breed | Traits |
---|---|
Lakenvelder | Nervous, flighty, sharp claws |
Thai Game Fowl | Muscular, fights, territorial |
Dorking | Dominant, noisy, pushes flock |
Brahma | Bossy, guards food, stubborn |
Children? Pick Cochins. Lonely farm? Pick Dorkings.
4. Egg Color: White, Brown, Blue
Eggs from backyard chickens can be art. White. Brown. Blue. Green. A basket of them looks like the sky at dawn.
A woman in Vermont collects blues and greens. She says: “They taste the same. But the colors sing.”
Egg Colors by Breed
Breed | Egg Color |
---|---|
Leghorn | White |
Sussex | Cream/Pink |
Ameraucana | Blue |
Marans | Dark Brown |
Orpington | Light Brown |
Easter Egger | Green |
Bielefelder | Speckled Brown |
The Marans lays chocolate. The Ameraucana lays sky. The Leghorn lays snow.
The Choice
You stand at the feed store. Chicks chirp in boxes. You think: Which ones?
Ask:
-
Does your winter freeze?
-
Do you need eggs daily?
-
Do you have soft hands or calluses?
Then point.
Take the Australorp for eggs. Take the Silkie for kids. Take the Leghorn for simplicity.
Raise them. Feed them. Collect eggs from backyard chickens. Crack one. See the yolk. Taste the truth.
Various Breeds: Chickens That Earn Their Keep
You do not raise chickens. Chickens raise you. They test your land. Your hands. Your patience. Choose breeds that fit like a worn boot.
Too tight, and you limp. Too loose, and you fall.
Here are the ones that work.
The Breeds
Breed | Weight | Temperament | Egg Color | Climate | Lifespan |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
Orpington | 6-10 lbs | Docile, Friendly | Light Brown | Cold-Hardy | 5-8 years |
Australorp | 5-7 lbs | Gentle, Calm | Light Brown | Adaptable | 6-10 years |
Isa Brown | 4-6 lbs | Quiet, Sweet | Light Brown | Moderate | 2-3 years |
Sussex | 7-9 lbs | Curious, Calm | Cream/Pink | All Climates | 5-8 years |
Silkie Bantams | 3-4 lbs | Gentle, Kid-Safe | Cream/Tinted | Mild Winters | 7-9 years |
Red Ranger | 9-11 lbs | Calm, Forager | Light Brown | Spacious Areas | 5-7 years |
Rhode Island Red | 7-9 lbs | Bold, Active | Brown | Tough | 6-8 years |
Silkie | 3-4 lbs | Friendly, Broody | Cream/White | Sheltered | 7-9 years |
Brahma | 10-12 lbs | Gentle, Cold-Hardy | Medium Brown | Frost-Resistant | 5-8 years |
Welsummer | 6-15 lbs | Busy, Intelligent | Dark Red-Brown | Adaptable | 6-9 years |
Ancona | 5-6 lbs | Social, Active | White | Heat-Tolerant | 6-8 years |
Leghorn | 5-6 lbs | Noisy, Curious | White | Warm Climates | 4-6 years |
The Details
Orpington
Big. Calm. Feathers like snowdrifts. Lays light brown eggs even when frost bites the coop. A child can hug them. A fox thinks twice.
Australorp
Black feathers shine like oil. Lays eggs daily. Doesn’t fuss. Doesn’t fight. Survives heat. Survives snow. Survives neglect. A farmer’s ally.
Isa Brown
Lays like a machine. Dies young. Two years of omelets. Then silence. Good for quick eggs. Not for legacy.
Sussex
Follows you like a dog. Eats weeds. Eats bugs. Lays cream eggs in rain or sun. Adapts. Always adapts.
Silkie Bantams
Fluff-ball. Kid’s toy. Lays cream eggs the size of a fist. Freezes in cold. Needs shelter. Needs love.
Red Ranger
Big bird. Needs space. Hunts grasshoppers. Guards tomatoes. Lays brown eggs. Ignores drama.
Rhode Island Red
No-nonsense hen. Rust feathers. Tough claws. Lays brown eggs like clockwork. Outlives storms. Outlives doubt.
Silkie
White ghost. Gentle clucks. Broods eggs like a martyr. Lays cream pebbles. Dies in rain. Keep dry.
Brahma
Feathers on feet. Walks like a king. Lays brown eggs in snowdrifts. Eats little. Gives much.
Welsummer
Dark eggs like chocolate. Forages hard. Thinks harder. Needs puzzles. Needs sky.
Ancona
Speckled. Social. Lays white eggs in heat. Lays them fast. Friends with dogs. Friends with cats.
Leghorn
Loud. Bossy. Lays white eggs like a factory. Hates cold. Hates cages. Loves sun. Loves trouble.
The Truth
Eggs from backyard chickens depend on the breed. Choose wrong—you get regret. Choose right—you get gold.
The Orpington feeds a family. The Leghorn feeds a town. The Silkie feeds a child’s wonder.
Your land speaks. Listen.
A man in Montana keeps Brahmas. “They shrug off blizzards,” he says. A girl in Florida keeps Anconas. “They lay in hell’s heat,” she laughs.
Pick your fighter. Build your coop. Collect your eggs.
Raising Baby Chicks: The First Days Decide All
Chicks are soft. Chicks are fragile. They die fast if you fail. They thrive if you care. Here is how to turn fluff into feathers. Into eggs from backyard chickens.
1. Watch Them Like Hawks
Chicks do not raise themselves. You must stare. You must act. Leave for an hour? They pile dead. Assign a guard. A wife. A son. A neighbor with sharp eyes.
A man in Idaho left chicks alone to fix a fence. A rat came. Two chicks gone. “They scream,” he said. “But I was too far.”
2. Heat is Life
The brooder is their world. Make it warm. Make it safe.
Week 1: 95°F. A heat lamp hangs low. Red glow. Chicks huddle under it. Sleep there.
Week 2: 90°F. Raise the lamp an inch. They wander. Peep.
Week 3: 85°F. They grow wings. Stretch.
Week 4: 80°F. Feathers replace fuzz.
Week 5: 75°F. Ready for the coop.
A girl in Nevada forgot to lower the lamp. Chicks baked. “They smelled like burnt bread,” she said.
In summer, balance heat. Lamp on one side. Cool shade on the other. Let them choose.
3. Water is Blood
Chicks drink twice their weight in water. Give it clean. Give it fresh. Change it hourly.
Use a quart jar for twenty chicks. Add apple cider vinegar—one spoon per gallon. Keeps guts clean.
A farmer in Kentucky used dirty water. Chicks slumped. Died with swollen joints. “Water kills,” he warned. “Or water cures.”
4. Feed is Muscle
Chicks eat protein. Eighteen percent or more. Crumbles, not pellets. Sprinkle it on cardboard. Watch them peck.
Add bugs. Grind mealworms. Mash hard-boiled eggs. They grow fast.
A boy in Maine fed only corn. Chicks grew slow. “Weak legs,” the vet said. “Feed them right.”
5. Bedding is Shelter
Line the brooder with pine shavings. Four inches thick. No newspaper. Slippery legs splay. Chicks cripple.
Change bedding daily. Dust breeds mold. Mold kills.
A woman in Arizona used hay. Mites came. Chicks scratched raw. “Burn the hay,” the vet said. “Start over.”
The End Goal
Raise them right. In six months, they lay. Eggs from backyard chickens. Brown. White. Blue.
Crack one. The yolk stands high. The shell does not bend. You did this.
A man in Vermont said: “The first egg made me cry. Like holding gold.”
Do the work. Earn the eggs.
Where to Buy Chickens: The Honest Truth
You want eggs from backyard chickens. First, you need chickens. But where? The wrong place sells sickness. The right place sells gold. Here is how to choose.
1. Hatcheries: Online or In-Person
Some names are good. Some lie.
Online Hatcheries That Deliver Life:
-
Cackle Hatchery – Old. Tough. Ships strong chicks.
-
Murray McMurray – Fancy breeds. Good boxes.
-
Meyer – No-nonsense. Healthy stock.
Beware Of:
-
Cheap prices. Means cheap chicks.
-
No vaccinations listed. Means death comes fast.
A man in Ohio bought “discount” chicks online. Half arrived dead. The rest died coughing. “The price was low,” he said. “The cost was high.”
Local Hatcheries:
Drive there. See the pens. Smell the air. If it stinks, walk away. If it smells clean, buy.
A woman in Georgia visits her hatchery every spring. “I watch the chicks run,” she says. “Weak ones stumble. I don’t buy those.”
2. What To Look For
Health Records:
Ask: Are they vaccinated? Against Marek’s? Coccidiosis? If the seller hesitates, leave.
Breeds Matter:
-
Need eggs? Buy Leghorns, Rhode Island Reds.
-
Need meat? Buy Cornish Cross, Freedom Rangers.
-
Want beauty? Buy Silkies, Polish Chickens.
Male or Female?
Pullets (females) lay eggs. Roosters crow. If you buy “straight run” (unsexed), expect half roosters. Too many roosters fight. Blood on feathers.
A boy in Texas ordered 10 “assorted” chicks. Got 8 roosters. “They woke the county,” he said.
3. Delivery: Life or Death in a Box
Chicks ship in cardboard. Holes for air. Soft bedding inside. Good hatcheries mark the box: LIVE BABY CHICKS – OPEN IMMEDIATELY.
Signs of a Bad Shipment:
-
Box crushed.
-
Chicks silent.
-
Dead ones stuck to bedding.
A farmer in Kansas got chicks in summer. The box sat on a hot porch. “Opened it to soup,” he said.
What To Do When They Arrive:
-
Open the box fast.
-
Dip each chick’s beak in water.
-
Put them under heat.
-
Count the dead. Demand refunds.
4. Local Farms: The Best Choice?
A neighbor’s hens hatched chicks. Buy those. Already tough. Already used to your weather.
A man in Vermont traded a shovel for six chicks. “Local birds,” he said. “They outlived the store-bought ones.”
Farm Checklist:
-
Hens look bright.
-
Coop smells clean.
-
No limping birds.
The Decision
You stand at the computer. Or at a farm gate. You think: Which chickens?
Remember:
-
Healthy chicks cost more. But sick chicks cost everything.
-
Local chicks survive better. But mail-order chicks offer rare breeds.
-
Roosters are loud. But hens are quiet gold.
Choose. Buy. Raise them right.
In six months, you’ll crack an egg. The yolk will stand tall. You’ll smile.
A woman in Maine said: “The first egg tasted like victory.”
What to Feed Chickens: The Straight Truth
Chickens eat. You feed. What you give decides the eggs. Bad feed means weak shells. Good feed means gold yolks. Here is how to do it right.
1. The First Weeks: Protein is King
Baby chicks need strength. Give them power.
Week 1 to 6:
-
22% protein chick starter crumbles
-
Ground oats
-
Mashed hard-boiled eggs
-
Tiny mealworms
They eat little but need much.
A man in Alabama fed chicks cheap grain. They grew slow. “Legs bent like bows,” he said. “Now I pay for good feed.”
Amount per chick:
Week | Feed per day (pounds) |
---|---|
1 | 0.15 |
2 | 0.30 |
3 | 0.60 |
4 | 0.80 |
5 | 0.95 |
Too much protein kills. Too little cripples. Measure.
2. The Growing Months: Less Protein, More Bulk
Pullets stretch. Feathers grow. Eggs come soon.
Week 8 to 20:
-
17% protein grower feed
-
Cracked corn
-
Sunflower seeds
-
Chopped kale
-
Worms from the garden
They eat more but need balance.
A woman in Oregon fed only scraps. Her pullets stayed small. “Eggs came late,” she said. “And were thin.”
Amount per pullet:
Week | Feed per day (pounds) |
---|---|
6 | 1.2 |
7 | 1.3 |
8 | 1.5 |
3. The Laying Hens: Calcium for Shells
Now the eggs come. Feed must be tough.
For layers:
-
16% protein layer pellets
-
Crushed oyster shells
-
Grit for their guts
-
Pumpkin seeds
-
All kitchen scraps (no onions, no avocado)
They work hard. Pay them well.
A farmer in Maine forgot calcium. His hens laid eggs that cracked like glass. “Now I keep oyster shells in a dish,” he said.
4. The Free-Range Truth
Chickens hunt. It cuts your feed bill.
What they find:
-
Grasshoppers
-
Slugs
-
Tender weeds
-
Fallen fruit
But winter comes. Then you must feed full.
A man in Montana lets his hens roam. “Summer feed costs half,” he said. “But winter eats my wallet.”
5. The No-Feed List
Some foods kill. Some sicken.
Never give:
-
Raw potatoes (poison)
-
Dry rice (swells in crops)
-
Chocolate (kills fast)
-
Citrus peels (sours eggs)
A boy in Texas fed his hens orange rinds. “Eggs tasted bitter,” he said. “The hens stopped laying for weeks.”
The Rule
Good feed means good eggs from backyard chickens. Measure. Watch. Adjust.
Crack an egg. The yolk stands. The shell is thick. You did this.
A woman in Vermont smiles at her hens. “They eat better than I did as a kid,” she says.
Feed right. Eat well.
Chicken Feeders: No Waste, No Fuss
Feed costs money. Chickens waste it. A good feeder saves both. Choose wrong, and grain scatters like rain. Choose right, and every bite goes where it should.
Here are the facts.
1. Automatic Feeders: For Those Who Trust Machines
Pros:
-
Fill it once. Works for days.
-
No morning rush to scatter grain.
Cons:
-
Power dies. Chickens starve.
-
Rats chew wires. Then nothing works.
A man in Ohio bought one. “Worked for a month,” he said. “Then lightning hit the barn.” Now he uses a tin can.
Best for: Big flocks. Men who love gadgets.
2. Wooden Feeders: The Homesteader’s Choice
Pros:
-
Build it from scrap. Costs nothing.
-
Holds enough for twenty birds.
Cons:
-
Rot sets in fast.
-
Mold grows in cracks. Kills chicks.
A woman in Vermont made hers from old fence posts. “Lasted two winters,” she said. “Then it stank like wet dog.”
Best for: Handy men. Small flocks.
3. Metal Feeders: Tough as Nails
Pros:
-
Rats can’t chew through.
-
Rain rolls off. Grain stays dry.
-
Lasts ten years. Maybe twenty.
Cons:
-
Costs more than wood.
-
Hot in summer. Burns combs.
A rancher in Texas swears by them. “Had mine since ’99,” he said. “Only replaced the screws.”
Best for: Hot climates. Rat country.
4. Tray Feeders: For the Little Ones
Pros:
-
Chicks can’t drown in it.
-
Easy to clean. Just wipe.
Cons:
-
Big hens tip it over.
-
Waste piles up fast.
A girl in Maine uses pie tins. “Cheap,” she said. “But I replace them monthly.”
Best for: Baby chicks. Broody hens.
5. Hanging Feeders: The Clean Solution
Pros:
-
Chickens can’t scratch grain out.
-
Stays clean. No poop inside.
Cons:
-
Weak birds get bullied away.
-
Ropes fray. Then it crashes.
A man in Georgia hung his too low. “Hens roosted on it,” he said. “Woke to spilled feed and fat rats.”
Best for: Small breeds. Neat freaks.
The Truth
Eggs from backyard chickens start with good feed. Good feed needs the right feeder.
Ask:
-
How many birds?
-
How much rain?
-
How many rats?
Then choose.
A woman in Kentucky uses an old boot. “Holds enough for three hens,” she laughs. “Ugly. But it works.”
Your feeder doesn’t need to shine. It needs to last.
Eggs from Backyard Chickens: The Complete Guide to Collection and Storage
The sun rises. The hens cluck. You walk to the coop, basket in hand. This is where real food begins.
Eggs from backyard chickens taste better. They last longer. But only if you handle them right. Here’s how.
Collecting the Eggs
Timing is everything
Go at first light. The nests are warm. The eggs are fresh.
Go again at noon. Some hens lay late.
One last check at dusk. Never leave eggs overnight.
Why?
Rats come. Hens peck. Eggs spoil.
A Wyoming rancher forgot once. Dawn showed five eggs gone. Just broken shells in the straw.
Weather matters
-
In heat: Collect fast – warmth rots eggs quick
-
In cold: Collect faster – frost cracks shells
Check each egg. Wipe dirt with your thumb. Cracked ones go to the dogs.
Cleaning Eggs Properly
Most need no wash. Those that do:
-
Use warm water only (100-120°F)
-
Cold water sucks bacteria through pores
-
Warm water pushes it out
-
-
Scrub gently with soft brush
-
No soap
-
No bleach
-
-
Dry immediately with clean towel
-
Damp eggs mold fast
-
A Texas woman learned the hard way. “Lost two dozen to cold washing,” she said.
Storing for Freshness
The right way:
-
Cardboard cartons (always new)
-
Mark dates in pencil
-
Store in fridge (35-40°F) – not the door
How long they last:
-
5-6 weeks chilled
-
10 days at room temp
An old Vermont farmer keeps his on the counter. “Eat them fresh,” he says. “Or don’t bother.”
Hatching Eggs
Two choices:
-
Broody hens
-
Natural way
-
Only in spring/summer
-
Hens do all the work
-
-
Incubators
-
Year-round hatching
-
Needs constant watching
-
Machines break
-
A Maine boy uses both. “Hens are easier,” he admits. “But machines make more chicks.”
Predator Protection
They come. Always.
Signs of attack:
-
Feather trails
-
Egg shards
-
Blood spots
Best defenses:
-
1/4″ steel mesh buried 12″ deep
-
Automatic coop doors
-
Motion-activated lights
An Idaho man lost his whole flock. “Now I double-check locks every night,” he says.
Dogs and Chickens
Some dogs kill. Some ignore.
To train:
-
Start young
-
Reward calm behavior
-
Use leash at first
If they won’t learn:
-
Build separate runs
-
Use livestock guardian dogs
A Colorado rancher swears by Great Pyrenees. “They sleep with the hens,” he says.
Common Chicken Diseases
Disease | Signs | Prevention |
---|---|---|
Marek’s | Paralysis, tumors | Vaccinate chicks |
Coccidiosis | Bloody diarrhea | Medicated feed |
Newcastle | Twisted neck | Vaccinate regularly |
Fowl Cholera | Sudden death | Clean coops |
An Alabama vet’s advice: “Clean coops don’t get sick.”
The Truth About Eggs from Backyard Chickens
Good eggs demand:
-
Dawn patrols
-
Clean hands
-
Sharp eyes
Do this right. Crack an egg. The yolk will stand tall. The shell will resist thumbs.
That’s how you know.
Final Words
The sun sets. The hens roost. You stand with a basket of eggs—warm, brown, blue. Real food.
Eggs from backyard chickens are simple. Good. But not easy.
Chickens test you. They demand dawn checks. Clean coops. Sharp eyes for predators and sickness. Fail them, and they die fast.
But care for them right? The reward comes in golden yolks that stand tall. Shells that don’t crack. Morning meals that taste like the earth itself.
Remember:
-
Choose breeds for your land
-
Build strong against foxes and frost
-
Feed clean, store wise, collect often
Do this, and the eggs will prove it.
A man in Vermont once said: “The first egg from my hens made store-bought taste like paper.”
Your coop waits. The hens cluck. The choice is yours.